"This is disgusting," Tattletale said.

"Yup." I took another bite. Disgusting, but not in a bad way. Like greasy-ass fast food after a long day.

In the weeks following Leviathan, fresh food had been relatively hard to come by. With the occasional exception, most of the PRT—heroes included—subsided on bulk military rations and granola bars. Today, though, was taco day. Not even Leviathan or Shatterbird could vanquish taco day. They could, however, make it worse.

"Seriously, I'm not a picky eater, but this?"

"If you're not going to…" I reached out a hand for her tray. She yanked it away.

"I didn't say that."

"Taco day is a PRT tradition. Every week, rain or shine, taco day will be there. Tradition is good." I took a sip from my bottled water. "At least the taco meat is semi-fresh today."

"Probably made of dog," she grumbled.

Before I could defend the honor of whoever in the kitchen was in charge of dog meat procurement, we were interrupted by a newcomer. "Hi, this seat taken?" Necator asked, sitting down at our table.

"Go for it," I mumbled through my taco, at the same moment Tattletale said, "It's taken."

They listened to me over the supervillain, thankfully, and remained sitting, poking at one of their tacos with a plastic fork. Suddenly they looked up at Tattletale, smiling. "Oh! Hi, I'm Necator." They offered a hand.

"Tattletale," Tattletale said simply, leaving the hero's hand hanging as she choked down a bite of taco.

"Are you a new recruit?" Necator asked. They continued speaking, but their tone was different, for some reason. Quieter. "Haven't seen you around."

"Tattletale is one of our supervillains," I butted in. "Bosses decided she'd be more useful outside a cell."

"Oh," Necator whispered, looking between Tattletale and myself. "Why don't you have your mask?"

Oh boy. "I can't eat through my helmet, and my mask is downstairs. She's a Thinker and I don't care enough to pretend she doesn't know who I am."

Tattletale rolled her eyes. "Clockblocker is exaggerating… slightly. Powers don't care about that sort of thing. Contrary to the name, I keep that to myself."

Necator set down their taco, blinking a few times. I sighed. "Didn't your gang out, like, half the Empire a month ago?"

"That wasn't us," Tattletale snapped. "We don't—didn't—play that way."

"Oh dear," Necator stammered out, their tone changing yet again. What the fuck was their deal?

"Right, it was the other gang fucking with the Nazis that had the high-rated Thinker. My bad." I rolled my eyes, taking a bite of taco. The shell crumpled, and ground beef cascaded down my armor, leaving trails of orange grease and yellow nacho cheese. "Fuck."

I left to grab a stack of napkins and a bottle of water to get the cheese off my armor. By the time I'd reduced it to a barely-visible splot of orange and returned to the table, Necator had left, leaving Tattletale by herself. An angry-looking Assault was walking away as I sat down.

"What did you do," I said flatly.

"Nothing," Tattletale replied innocently.

"Tattletale…"

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "Assault asked Necator 'what sex' they were, they slunk off, so I told him his wife only puts up with his bullshit out of a sense of duty to the Protectorate and a growing case of Stockholm syndrome."

I blinked. That as a lot to take in. "Uh…"

"Battery's a sweetheart and deserves better than him."

"Tattletale?"

"What? We can be on opposite sides and still respect each other."

"Okay but… don't." I sighed. "The Slaughterhouse Nine are here, it's really not a good time to be pushing people's nerves."

"Have you met me before?"

"Try? Please?"

"Fiiiiine."

"Thank you."

We finished in silence, tossed our trays with the pile of others in the dishpit, and headed out…

"So what now?" Tattletale asked, smirking at a PRT guard that was staring her down.

"Nothing. We sit around and wait for the Nine to finish us off."

"Ooooor we could head out."

"Can't leave the PRT building."

"Are you sure?" She was grinning.

"…Yes…"

"You were only told to babysit me and stay away from everyone's favorite mass-murdering tourists. That means a lot of things are still on the table."

"Okay, and?"

"And I need information if I'm going to take them down. Information you're going to help me get." She started walking away.

"Hold on. Hold on!" I said quickly. "So, what. We're gonna go wander out there looking for clues? That seems like a great way to get ambushed."

"If they wanted us dead, they'd come here. Trust me Clock, you're just as vulnerable here."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"Okay. I know you're not this stupid. You want to fight them, but can't directly. This is how."

"It's a great way to get picked off, too," I said, shaking my head. "Listen, you would've been dead if we didn't stumble on you, and so would Vista and I if we hadn't gotten lucky."

Tattletale glared at me for a long second before replying, her voice flat. "This is fighting them, that's what you want."

"Going out there by ourselves is suicide!" I shouted, exasperated. Why didn't she understand that?

"Okay. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I like living, so yes!"

"Are you sure?" I gave her a what the fuck are you on? look and she continued. "Any family close enough to be family is gone, your best friend was reassigned, your boss sees you as nothing but a liability… from my view, you have nothing left to risk losing."

I was quiet for a long minute, glaring at her behind my helmet's HUD. Who the fuck did she think she was? She wanted to go out so badly she'd blatantly dig at shit like that to try and persuade me? Seriously, I'd thought she was supposed to be more subtle than this?

Tattletale being a massive cunt aside, it was clearly a big fucking deal, at least in her opinion. Why she couldn't just bring it up or ask like a normal goddamn person was beyond me. Whatever.

Honestly though, all that aside, a glorified patrol would be a better use of our time than console duty or standing around… If she was such a mind reader or whatever I had to wonder why she didn't lead with that.

"Fine."

"Thank—"

"Shut the hell up."

We borrowed one of the PRT motorcycles, the older ones that were built to survive an apocalypse. The electronics were fried, but the engine still ran which was all that really mattered. The streets were emptier than usual, the few people we saw ducking behind corners as we passed by.

Eventually we made it out of the downtown area, into the suburbs around the city. The land was higher here, the flooding having receded weeks ago if it had ever been inundated at all. There was less fear in the air here, relatively speaking.

I pulled over by a deserted park, across the street from some sort of shopping center. Tattletale slid off the back and stretched her legs.

"Anyway…" I muttered, looking around. "Why are we here again?"

"Because the Nine stopped by just before they showed up. I think."

"You think." I looked around. Park, clothing outlet, boarded-up Chinese food place, grocery store… and no corpses or horror scenes. "Sure we know the same Nine?"

I glanced back at her just in time to see her finish an eyeroll. "They don't murder and pillage everywhere they go. Even Jack Slash can see the benefit of keeping a low profile."

"At a strip mall."

"Ugh, just… come on."

Why am I doing this?

We walked side-by-side across the street, Tattletale looking every which way as if the smallest thing would be some sort of clue to unlock whatever mystery she was looking for. It wasn't the first time I'd been stuck as the Watson to someone else's Sherlock Holmes, but somehow at least Chris managed to make me feel like I totally wasn't useless.

We wandered into the clothing store, the kinda place I imagined middle class people who pretended they were rich would shop at. There were only one or two customers inside, and a clerk who looked up from her phone as we entered. Eyes went wide at my sight and then wider at the sight of the supervillain I was hanging out with. "It's fine," I said quickly, putting up a reassuring hand. She hesitated for a second, and that was when Tattletale took the moment to be helpful.

"He's cheating on you with your roommate," she said with faux cheer in her tone.

Oh for fuck's sake.

I grabbed her arm and hurried her along until we were safely hidden in the men's shoe section. "Was the fun fact really necessary?"

"Listen asshole, if you spend every waking moment with fun facts invading your mind you'll get tired of keeping them to yourself too."

"The name suits you, Tattletale."

"Thanks. Clockblocker doesn't work for you."

"Thanks?" I wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, but okay. "Listen, why are we—" she'd already started walking away.

"They were here a couple days ago. Jack and Bonesaw. I need to know why," she said, hardly paying attention to me as she wandered around.

"Maybe they wanted to buy some clothes?"

"Yes, but why here?"

"Because… this is where you buy clothes?" I sighed. "Listen, I think you're overthinking this. It's—"

"There's no such thing as overthinking things, Clockblocker." She looked at me pointedly. "There's just being too dim to see between the lines."

"Riiiight." I was getting a little too used to her casually insulting me, but if we were stuck together… I had to make it work, or the other option was sitting in the growing black mold infestation that was the PRTHQ, at the console listening to more teammates die. "Okay, sure. So what's between the lines?"

"That's what we're here to find out," she said, wandering into the ladies' section.

… "So you don't know."

"No, I said that's what we're here to find out," Tattletale replied as if that wasn't exactly the same fucking thing. Whatever. No wonder her teammates got chosen by the Nine, I'd dealt with being on her "side" for barely a day and I was about halfway to going on a spree.

Tattletale paused at a rack with a selection of dresses. The cute ones, made of light fabric that looked really twirlable.

"Jealous?" she asked with a smirk, holding one up. Sunflowers printed on white.

"Not really?" I said awkwardly. It was mostly true. Sure, boys had far more boring fashion, but that was just how it was.

"Hmm." Tattletale put the sunflower dress up and grabbed another, sky blue with white dots. It didn't really suit her, not that I was an expert on the subject. She held it up against me, the smirk turning into a grin.

"I don't think it goes with my armor to be honest," I quipped, glaring at her behind my visor. Ugh, my cheeks felt hot. Was I…? No, god no, she was pretty and all but after what the Undersiders had done… nope. Why did I feel so awkward then?

Tattletale had already moved on while I was lost in thought, one arm loaded with assorted clothes as she browsed. "Sure you aren't just here for a shopping trip?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Two birds one stone. I can't exactly walk around in-costume all the time if we're going to be together. Imagine what they'll say in the papers!" Her smirk faded after a second. "All my clothes were at our HQ."

"Oh… yeah that's fair," I said lamely, looking away. Way to go, Clock.

"Listen, it's fine," she finally said, three skirts and a pair of heels later. I'd been relegated to holding her shopping, which wasn't embarrassing at all after I'd spotted one of the other customers taking photos. Jesus Christ, the Image department was going to murder me for this. Probably worse than they'd done for the Clockblocker stunt. At least then it was funny, this was just… sad.

My radio crackled, reminding me of the very present threat in the rest of the city. PRT squad got hit by the Nazis, who of course were taking advantage of the chaos in the city. "We should get going," I said quietly.

"Oh? Oh. Yeah." We made our way to the front, Tattletale paid for her shit, I pretended like that money hadn't come from breaking probably a million laws. And of course she didn't carry any of the bags, leaving them for me to carry. People were looking, and here I was being made her bitch while she—

While she stopped in the middle of the parking lot to stare at a moving van.

"You okay?" I asked. Tattletale didn't respond, so I nudged her with my foot, making her jump. "Hey, you there?"

"Yeah… Just reading between the lines."

"Oh?"

"We should go."

"What? Wh—"

"Don't worry about it. It's just the next piece of the puzzle," she said quickly. There was a hint of… was it surprise in her tone? Or maybe fear?

"Fine," I said after a long pause. So fucking done with trying to figure out what she was on about. Later, I'd ask.

I put it in the back of my mind.

We got back just as the sun was starting to set. Hot water was back on, so after a short debriefing with Miss Militia ("Tattletale needed civ clothes, we went out, saw nothing, yes we were careful.") I took what felt like the first shower in weeks, even if it had been just a couple days. It took a good hour to get rid of the old blood and sweat and ugh facial hair. Because what I really wanted more than anything else was to look like a ginger neckbeard. Just kidding!

Finally, I stepped out of the bathroom and into the commons, my costume's bodysuit thrown over my shoulder and a PRT-issue towel protecting Little Clockblocker from the sinful gaze of any of my teammates. It was just Glory Girl and Shadow Stalker, chilling on the couch five feet apart doing their own things. Neither even looked up as I walked across and shut myself away in my room. Cool. I tried the light switch, and to my surprise it actually turned on! I would've thought that the Wards' bedrooms would've been low on the totem pole of—

It was sitting on my bed. Sky blue with white polka dots. The dress Tattletale'd bought.

Why was it here.

I looked around. Nope, she hadn't repurposed the room. Nope, nothing was missing. Nope, nobody hiding in the closet for a prank.

What the fuck?

I tossed the bodysuit over vaguely next to my armor and hung the towel up on its hook. I wasn't stupid, she had to have put it here deliberately. It was the only thing on the bed, not the eight million other things she'd bought and I'd had to figure out how to carry on the PRT bike. Nope.

I picked it up, fingers running through the soft silky fabric looking for bugs. Electronic or otherwise—even if Skitter had died weeks ago it was still a good idea with the Undersiders. Nothing.

Why?

I sat down on the bed, still holding it in my hands. Why could I feel my heart racing? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I set the dress down, walked over to the door. Was I… no, that was stupid, she was just fucking with my head. Tattletale being Tattletale right? Yeah.

I flipped the lock, then froze the door for good measure.

Deep breath.

It was actually made of two layers, the blue fabric and then a sheer white layer underneath that made me shiver as it ran over my skin. I wasn't sure it was fitting quite right, awkwardly tight in my shoulders and loose-ish elsewhere. A minute or so of awkward reaching behind me to do up the little ribbon-thing that cinched it above my waist.

I was wearing a dress.

The fuck?

And it didn't feel… weird? Okay well it felt a lot weird but in different ways. Good ways. Oh god.

Listen, Dennis. It's fine. You're just into crossdressing. That's cool right?

I stood shakily, and did a spin. It twirled around me oh god it twirled! and then settled back on my hips. Why did that feel so good? Fuck. What the fuck?

I looked down at myself. It looked… mostly right, actually. I'd have to deal with Little Clockblocker but that was a problem for later. Ugh. Whatever. Wait.

I'd never been bothered about that before, why was I now?

I mean, it was always something I'd avoided, even given the cape name. But… blah. I didn't want to think about that. Maybe Panacea would…?

Shut the fuck up Dennis.

No, that was a terrible idea. She'd start asking questions, and I'd have to admit it was because I wanted to wear dresses, and… and I wanted to be pretty? Was that normal?

I slunk back to my bed, laid down on the edge of it, my fists balled up in the hem of my—of the—dress. Not mine, nope. If it was mine then that meant I owned a dress which meant I was a freak or something. I was a teenage boy. Boys didn't get to own dresses or be pretty or cry, this was just a weird phase. Tattletale fucking with me. Right?

Why was I trying so hard to convince myself?

I remembered a conversation Chris and I had awhile back. He'd asked why I always picked a girl when character customization had come up in a video game. I'd never had an answer. It was just… a thing. Or was it?

Fuck, fuck! No, this was dumb, why was I thinking about this, I was a guy, with the exception of that one time in the shower with Carlos I was straight, this was stupid.

I was a guy.

Boy.

Male.

Ugh.

What if I… could be a girl instead? I'd looked it up on a whim once, there were pills and surgeries and shit. Alarming surgeries with helpful animations showing what happens.

Jesus fucking christ, the animations.

I mean I guess I'd be a girl? Like if it was all the same, I liked the idea and I couldn't say why. Jealousy? I wasn't sure.

I realized I was shivering. I was still sitting on the side of the bed, hair damp from the shower, in a dress, and at some point the air conditioning had kicked on. Hesitantly I pulled myself under the covers. Would it get wrinkled? Probably. I still wanted to keep it on, while I figured out what the actual fuck was going on with my head.

What the fuck had Tattletale done to me? And why? Sometime… tomorrow, or later, or whenever… I'd have to ask her what the catch was, why she'd do this to me, and just… hope the answer wasn't bullshit?

I didn't get much sleep that night, but when I finally let my eyes close, I was smiling.