A/N:

Yes, this is an early update. (Early by one day, but let's not be pedantic.) I became a little inspired when one of my favorite fics was updated this week, and as I was writing the next chapter I couldn't help but give you an early Easter present. Or late Spring equinox.

Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews Drako90451, Doctor Mercurious, firemaster101, ShadowCub and moon so bright! Whether they be compliments or questions, pure, spitting hatred or a cluster of typos, they seriously brighten up my day like you wouldn't believe. It truly means a lot. (:

Drako90451: Thank you for your lovely words! And no, I'm the same way. I think part of the reason why I like Worm so much is because of Taylor's struggles. Her cynicism is endearing, which makes it more fun to mess around with her. Horrible people unite!

The first thought that came to mind upon waking up was, I need a bath.

'Crusty' was an adequate word for describing how I felt. I hadn't washed myself off last night, and I was regretting it now. I scattered the bugs that blanketed me, relishing in the soft light of dawn that unfolded as my swarm dispersed.

I sat up and stretched carefully, wincing at the pop of my joints. I had slept with my armor on, which I'd never done before. Worse, it was on the hard ground with poorly set armor to boot.

Short cords of silk, about three inches in length crumpled from my body. It was as if someone had been making a quilt and decided to use me as a table for their patches.

My passenger? It was helpful, if a bit useless in their current form.

I picked up the cords and set to weaving them together with my spiders to use as bandages later. Or, I looked at my feet, extra padding for my makeshift shoes.

My range picked up nothing that rang the alarm bells, so I shifted my swarm to the back of my mind and drank in what I could actually see.

Vista was wedged between Clockblocker and Kid Win, her head supported on the former's shoulder. They looked asleep, and a check with a few bugs confirmed the slow, even rise and fall of their chests. The bulk of Kid Win's armor didn't budge, but I didn't want to risk waking him by having bugs crawl over his face to check his breathing. I had a funny feeling he wouldn't be thrilled.

Miss Militia and Weld sat further back towards the tree line, my movement drawing their attention like flies to a light bulb.

I rolled a crick out of my neck and stood, making my way down to the stream to dunk my head in and let the current work through my hair. It was a tangled wreck, and I combed my fingers through it as best I could and until I gave up and let it fall half-knotted across my shoulders. There wasn't much I could do about bathing, unless I reduced myself to splashing around in a shallow stream while Miss Militia and Weld watched.

I'd been wrong last night. Even if the stream had the current of a rapid, I'd doubt it could sweep any of us away. It was only as deep as my forearm, if that, which made me question the purity of it. But what did I know of clean water? It looked clear enough to me, and the nearby birds seemed to agree.

I sat back on my haunches and replaced my mask, staring down at my reflection. The top layer had been scanned away by the Simurgh's gun, and now the mandibles and forehead piece were worn halfway. It looked like my face was pulling inwards, and I couldn't decide if the effect made it look creepier than usual or just plain ugly. I took it off.

Miss Militia and Weld watched me.

Dragonflies delivered me the single silk cord made from what my spiders had crafted, and I attached it to my mask like I would a key to a lanyard. From there I loosely wrapped the cord around my waist. It wasn't thick enough to qualify as a sash, but the silk would hold. If I needed to, I could easily withdraw my mask from my waist where it hung from my side, but for now I would keep it off.

Though my eyesight was bad, I could see well enough with my swarm. My time spent blind gave me more than enough to work with.

I stood. This was my olive branch. They'd already seen my face, if not in person then on TV, but hopefully they'd recognize this for what it was.

I approached Miss Militia and Weld. I took in the pale pallor of Miss Militia's skin and gathered she wasn't in the best form. I could count on my hand the amount of times I'd seen her give any sign of discomfort, and that was counting the time Regent had her vomiting on her hands and knees.

That wasn't the best thing to remember right now. "What's our plan for the day?" I asked, mildly irritated at myself.

"Recuperating," Miss Militia answered. Despite her appearance, her voice came out strong. "We need time to lick our wounds, gather our breath from yesterday's travel. I'd like us to make our way further down the stream to where I believe it'll join a river, but that depends mostly on the others once they awaken." She took in my appearance. "Are you up for traveling?"

"Sure," I said. Most of the blood is yours, I almost added, then thought better of it. "Did you have anything in mind for food or a fire?"

"A fire would be fine, I think. As for food, we can live off the land. I'll show you all as the day progresses." It was the sort of sentence that would usually be followed by a smile, but her face remained tight.

Further in the woods, my bugs found their catch and set to reeling it in. Now that our water problem had been taken care of, the knot in my stomach was making itself painfully aware. I rubbed my hands without any real need to and scouted for dry wood.

It was summer here, of that I was certain. I didn't know what country, but if I had to guess I'd say we were still in North America. I felt like I had seen the scenery before and recognized it now as being from those cheesy American postcards and T-shirts. I'd say we were a right turn from nowhere.

I gathered a good amount of old branches to get a fire started and headed back just as my bugs came into view. Two rabbits, noses clogged with ants. I sent them over to Miss Militia who accepted them with a small amount of surprise. I couldn't help there; summer camp taught me how to build a fire, not flay a rabbit.

I stacked my wood far enough away from the trees and grabbed dry leaves for kindling. I arranged the logs as I remembered we were taught, then stopped. What would I use for a spark? I didn't see any flint rocks laying around.

Weld approached from behind me. "Need a hand?" he asked.

He knelt down before I could answer and began to rub his hands together furiously. Sparks jumped from between his fingers at the friction. Surprised, I leaned back. My little stack of wood caught fire and he stopped, looking back at me with a tight smile.

Only when he left did I realize he made a joke. Olive branch, I thought.

Clockblocker stirred awake and roused Vista in the process. He shushed her as she mumbled, and maneuvered her over to Kid Win's side before rising in the same fashion as I did: brutally slow and stiff.

After returning from the stream where he had checked twice that I wasn't looking, he said, "Wow. I don't know whether to be hungry or nauseous."

I felt distinctly offended before I saw that Miss Militia was in the middle of sliding the rabbits' skin off. She was halfway towards its legs when she rose a brow at him.

"Decide quick. I need you to get me a stick I can impale these on."

I couldn't tell if he recoiled at that, but he nodded and headed towards the tree line. He paused in his stride when he saw me. Unsure, I rose a hand in greeting. He nodded once, short, and disappeared into the trees.

Not knowing what to make of that, I added more branches onto my small fire and watched with satisfaction as the flames greedily ate them up. I built a fire. I may be from the city, but I wasn't completely helpless in the woods.

Kid Win and Vista stirred awake by the time the rabbits were cooking over the fire, Miss Militia turning them slowly on a large stick. Vista looked… about the same as yesterday, minus when she collapsed. Not dehydrated-exhausted, just exhausted. It was an improvement.

I grabbed my portion and took my place away from the group without having to be asked, a burning rabbit leg clutched in my bare hand. I was playing an impromptu game of 'hot potato' when Weld joined me on the ground.

The question must've been written on my face, for he said, "I don't have a secret identity to protect. I think I've mentioned that before?"

I found it hard to believe that was all he was here for, but shrugged off my curiosity. "That makes two of us."

"It's hard," he said. I nodded in agreement.

It was a little awkward eating around someone who wasn't, but my hunger outweighed everything else and I hastily embarked on devouring my portion. Weld didn't look bothered. He was probably used to it.

Those were the drawbacks that I had thought about yesterday. No taste, no smell, no touch. I wondered what he did in his free time. Not that the only things to do in life were eating burgers or smelling flowers, but could he even die? He survived being melted to a puddle, so it was hard to believe anything could bring him down; I doubted he aged. How often did he think about that, outliving his friends and team?

God, that got depressing.

I realized I had been staring into space with the rabbit leg clutched in my fist, grease sliding down my wrist. I didn't know what Weld expected when he walked over here, but I wasn't about to add to the bad vibe that already accompanied me. I hastily tore off the last string of meat and swallowed it whole.

"It looks like it'll be a warm day," I said after an audible gulp, grasping for a safe topic.

His focus shot to me from where it had settled on the group. My bugs picked up the low tones of Miss Militia as she muttered to the Wards.

"…take breaks. A river could either lead us to the ocean or other people, and we're heading down…" she was saying.

Before me, Weld said, "Yeah. But luckily we have water now, so we're better off than we were yesterday."

"Yeah, true," I replied. What to say? "Where do you think we are?"

Weld took a needless breath. "I'm not sure. Wherever we are, it's not tropical." The corner of his mouth twitched in what might have qualified as the world's tiniest, most pitiful smile. Better than I could've produced. "But I was never one for geography," he said.

"I was thinking North America, still. I recognize most of the insect population. Maybe Europe- a good part of our bugs are actually foreign, and if my memory of their forests is accurate, this could fit the bill."

Weld shrugged. "Could be. We'll know more as we walk around."

"Yep," I said. Silence.

This conversation was ridiculously hard. Every topic that came to mind was either dangerous territory or just plain uncomfortable. How're the Irregulars working out, assuming they're still alive? Are you mad that I killed your former boss? How badly do you want revenge on Cauldron?

It would be easier if we were complete strangers. I knew next to nothing about him barring what was on the internet, yet I'd fought against and alongside him numerous times. He'd been the deciding factor in situations that were life-or-death for me, and I for his teammates. But at the end of the day, I was a villain and he was a hero. We had a history that already painted each other's characters, and being stuck out in the woods together wasn't going to change that.

Except-

"Have you ever been to Europe?" I asked.

-being stuck out in the woods and trying to change that could work.

I had been ready to turn myself in two days ago to give our side, humanity, a fighting chance against the true monsters: The Endbringers and Slaughter House Nine. Obviously, that plan didn't work out.

But now I was given a new chance, an opportunity to show the heroes that I was as much a person as they were. I'd been trying to tell them the past months that it wasn't as black and white as the hero side liked to believe, after all.

And they had to believe that a little now, if they hadn't before. Else they wouldn't hold such high standards for me, a villain.

I already took off my mask, literally. I was willing to extend another olive branch.

Weld looked taken aback. "No, have you?"

"I haven't, but I've always wanted to," I answered. I had more than enough money to travel there now, but the chances of me traveling abroad legally were laughably non-existent. "I've heard Norway is beautiful."

I might've figured out my gameplay, but I was woefully out of my element here. Small talk was only used with Bitch because that was all that worked with her. It didn't matter that I was poor at it. Here, though, it was painfully obvious to the both of us that I sucked at it.

His eyes turned sharp, no doubt inspecting me for a hidden motive. I did have one, per say, but it was probably better than anything he was thinking of.

I could see the moment he made up his mind. "I'm more of a city kind of guy," he said.

"So you'd be more into London or Paris?"

He shrugged. "I never had the time to think about travel. After this, maybe."

After we get out of this forest and figure out if we're crazy, fix this mess with the Endbringers and Cauldron. After we stop Jack Slash from ending the world.

Suddenly, my small talk sounded a whole lot worse. Should've kept the mask on, fuck olive branches.

"What about you?" Weld asked. I blinked and he elaborated, "After this, what are you going to do?"

I paused, swallowing a lump that wasn't there before. Miss Militia chose that moment to appear.

"The others are ready to move out," she said. I didn't miss the look she sent Weld after I turned away.

I washed off the rabbit bone and my hands, digging a few holes in the stream bed to filter the water before drinking. There was enough room in my utility compartment to stash the bone for future use. I couldn't say what that use would be, only that it felt like the smart thing to do. Better to be prepared than not.

Miss Militia headed off our group as we carved a path by the stream, I bringing up the rear. Weld wasn't glued to my side as he was before, which could've meant any number of things. Kid Win walked in his place, and I couldn't help but make the calculations to take him down if he turned hostile.

We hadn't had much one-on-one interaction aside from the fight at Arcadia, if he against my swarm clone counted. Judging by his body language, I honestly couldn't say if there were any hard feelings. But I hadn't gathered any personal hostility from Clockblocker until he waved it like a banner.

A drop of sweat from his chin splattered onto the red metal of his armor. Though we had been tossed and dragged not two days ago by the Simurgh, there was hardly a scratch on the surface.

Now that I was actually paying attention, I noticed that he had more or less reclaimed all of the armor he had to drop yesterday. When would he have found the time to do that? And how? It wasn't as if any of us were in the right state to travel, except for Weld. But from what I gleamed of his power, he would've absorbed the metal, so that ruled him out. Unless my knowledge of my enemy's powers wasn't as vast as I liked to believe.

I recognized my mistake a second too late. Former enemies, for now, I corrected, then shot another appraisal towards Kid Win.

I didn't like that I couldn't connect the dots here. I prided myself on being able to find answers, and the fact that I hadn't woken up while a part of our group gallivanted off stirred enough unease in my stomach that I had to swallow to make sure I wasn't going to vomit. My stomach was already shaken as it was.

And that, there, was another concern to add to the list of our growing problems. Cooked rabbit would only do so much underneath this type of sun and travel. There were more nutrients that we needed besides protein.

Problem was, I had next to nothing in wildlife survival skills. I could hunt and locate water well enough, but there was a difference between picking off a few animals and living off the land. Miss Militia dressed like she fit the bill, but that in no way made her Bear Grylls. I sighed, drawing a guarded look from Kid Win. I guessed this was as best a time as any to learn.

Morning turned to afternoon, and evening swiftly followed on the backs of hounds. The forest had taken a surprisingly rough path as we trailed along the edge of a sharp slope, and I couldn't see any sign of progress from our teensy stream.

While Miss Militia informed us that our best bet at finding civilization would be to travel downwards, we were taking the slow and safe way.

The bottom of the slope was easily thirty feet down with pine trees crowding the drop, and sharp boulders and cascading ferns lodged in the dirt like stair steps. The ground was barely detectable past the sheer amount of foliage. Any one of us could've scaled it on a good day, but a look at our state deemed the fast way down a bad idea.

And with our light slowly dwindling, we were going to have to stop soon. My throat was dry at having said nothing all day, Kid Win providing no form of conversation and the others too caught up in their own for me to interject.

They weren't talking all that often, either. Aside from a few muffled exchanges between Clockblocker and Miss Militia, the urge to talk was sapped out of the group. There was tension, a restless energy that buzzed on the outskirts of everyone's minds, and I think we were all hesitant in doing something that would cause the dam to break.

Miss Militia slowed to a stop and turned to face us. The warm light of the sunset filtered through the leaves above and left a splotch of light across the bridge of her nose.

"Let's-" she began, and the ground slipped away.

It was as if God had taken a broom and swatted me down the hill along with the dirt, shrubs and rocks. There was no time to scream, no warning except for the awful clap of breaking earth. I had enough mind to cover my head, though it did nothing for my arms and legs as I tumbled down. The entire ordeal had to have only lasted seconds, but it felt like an eternity had passed before I skidded to a stop, rocks trickling a few feet after me, marking the air with their clunking sounds before stopping, too.

It was quiet.

I had squeezed my eyes shut when I slipped, and I opened them hesitantly, half-expecting a bucket of dirt to be poured over my face. Instead, darkness reared its ugly head. For a moment I panicked, thinking that I had hit my head on the way down and managed to blind myself again. But as my eyesight adjusted, the darkness evolved into a tangle of branches and shrubs. Only a sliver of gold peeked through the cover.

"Skitter?" Miss Militia's voice called out, far enough that she had to have been spared from the fall. My pained grimace transitioned into a frown as my bugs took everyone else into account. Weld stood beside her, Vista and Clockblocker clutched in both of his hands. Even Kid Win had managed to steer clear of the slip, Clockblocker gripping the back of his armor, freezing him in place.

Of course, no one had thought to grab me.

"I'm fine," I replied, speaking through a gathering swarm. To their credit, no one jumped at the sound. At least, I think I am, I added as an afterthought. My skin stung, and my body had an all-over ache that was becoming unfortunately familiar.

But a quick account of my limbs, wiggling my toes and fingers experimentally, judged that I was alright. Scraped, bruised, but intact. My armor had even stayed in place, and my lanyard-band had proven to be as strong as my other silk.

I grunted as I got to my feet, and took a moment for my eyes to adjust and the world to stop spinning.

The light was pretty dismal down here. The tangle of branches above all but tied away the sunlight; except for a sliver of gold that peeped through the mess, it was black as night. The sun was bound to set in an hour or two anyway, and I didn't really need to see. Still, I donned my mask and blinked in response to the suddenly clear, albeit dark view of the area.

Ahead, a mound of loose dirt was spread at the base of the slope. A landslide? There wasn't anyone in my range to suggest it was the workings of a cape. I steered clear, backing up despite myself.

My ears picked up the mumble of water, and my first impression was that it was the stream above. But…

This was too close. I turned towards the sound, and the stream was near enough that I could probably see it in the daylight despite the sheer mass of brush down here. By tracing the edges of it with mosquitos, I followed it as long as my range went.

It was easily twice as wide as the small stream above, and my mouth widened into a smile that only grew as I measured its depth with water beetles and worms below ground. It had to reach my knees, at least.

"We… leave her down there?" Vista. I couldn't read her tone, but she was the only one with a voice as high as hers. My stomach dropped.

"It's too dangerous to go down now. It's late, dark and we're exhausted," Miss Militia said. "We can get her in the morning."

"I could scale down it," Weld suggested, but Miss Militia's head shook in reply.

"The ground is unstable, and we can hardly see. No, we'll wait."

"You don't think she'll try to escape?" Clockblocker asked. He shuffled on his feet, restless.

Again, Miss Militia shook her head. "She's tricky, but smart. She knows she can't survive on her own out here."

A bit of spite filled me at that. My bugs on Kid Win popped back into existence and picked up the strangled gasp that left his lips as he stumbled back from the edge. "What happened?" he asked, swiveling to the others.

"The bug got stuck under the rug," Clockblocker said.

"Skitter fell down the slope," Miss Militia clarified. "And we're getting her in the morning."

I was beginning to wonder when she'd say that to my 'face' when she spoke normally to my swarm, "What's your position?"

I debated against telling her before deciding that would be stupid. "Lots of trees down here," I replied. "Another stream, too."

Miss Militia paused, and her weapon shifted several times before settling on something I couldn't make out. "Alright, stay where you are. We'll come for you at sunrise."

"Right." They walked from the edge. Kid Win lingered the longest, chancing a lean to get a better look at the wreckage before joining the others.

Damn them. I felt tempted to strike out on my own, gain enough headway tonight that I could try and outpace them so they wouldn't find me tomorrow. I caught my own food, I could figure out how to create my own spark, I-

Disastrous thoughts. That was the last thing I should do, and certainly not what I wanted or what we needed. I breathed deep, relishing in the fresh air that billowed into my lungs before spilling out of my lips and skimming past my face with a feathered touch.

I still had something to prove, and a lot of things to protect. Heroes and villains, I thought. Good and evil.

I was tired.

Above, Miss Militia sat with her knees loosely bent in front of her, resting her elbows on her knees and her back against a tree trunk. A fire must have been deemed too dangerous, for no one went to collect fire wood.

Vista settled on the ground not far away, keeping her space. Her face was tilted down, away from sight. She was covered with sweat, which hinted at how much longer she'd be able to keep pace on her own.

"How… doing?" Clockblocker said, almost too low for me to pick it up. He lowered himself beside her and she shifted.

"Good," she replied.

I drank several mouthfuls of water from the stream, wishing not for the first time that I could dunk my whole body into it. But I couldn't afford to become ill, and drenching myself in water at night with no towel or change of clothes would do that to a person. I fantasized a hot shower instead, fatigue melting off my bones as the scalding water poured down. It wasn't enough to tide me over.

Above, Clockblocker offered to help her over to their stream above so she could wash off, but she declined. I couldn't read their voices, but from the way he tensed I figured her tone wasn't pleasant. A gust of air left the front of his mask, a sigh. "We'll reach civilization soon. Miss Militia said so," he said. Hard to say he believed that, if his words to Kid Win the day before were any indication.

"Sure," Vista replied. I frowned, and Miss Militia interrupted with something I couldn't make out. Clockblocker left, moving to sit in the middle of the clearing they were in. I envied him; plush moss was underfoot, a world different from the knotted roots in my bundle of trees.

Kid Win sat apart from the group, much like how I'd seen him do the other times we'd stopped for breaks. His tool kit was out and being put to full use, various parts of his armor laid out. I had no idea how his progress was coming along, and I wasn't sure how to tell. It all looked the same to me as before, so I guessed it wasn't worse.

I settled in my own nook underneath a bush, a sort of leafy growth from the base of a pine tree. Spiders bloomed out of their hidey holes and webs at my bid. The patches of silk from this morning turned out to help, but I wanted them to create something I could actually use off the bat instead of having to perform altercations. They gathered in formation and began to weave, and I closed my eyes.

The only one who hadn't moved since they left the ridge was Weld. He stood guard outside of their clearing, back abnormally straight. His face pointed east.

It was disconcerting how still he was; if I didn't know better I'd say someone had left a statue in the middle of the woods. I leaned back and folded my hands behind my head, and scar tissue dragged across my ribs and spine, stretched along with my armor and arms.

Human and monster, I mused. With that, I fell asleep.

Morning was an interesting affair.

I woke up at the sensation of my silk strings breaking, my sentry spiders draping along their lines like clothes in the wind. I shot up and nearly faltered, thinking it was an enemy before my mind caught up with the present.

Once it did, I went twice as fast leaving my bush. Part of the branches left with me in my hurry, but there was no way I'd be caught curled beneath the shrubbery, looking as tired and small as I felt. I walked into view of the slope, rolling a crick out of my neck just as Weld finished his descent.

His legs were sharpened into points as long as he was tall, but he still sunk knee-deep with each step. Though there wasn't as much sunlight down here as there was above, I could easily make out the destruction of last night. Luckily, no trees had collapsed under the minor landslide. But the sheer amount of dirt and dislodged boulders were enough for me to warily eye the wreckage, ready to bolt in case he triggered something.

When he scanned me head to toe, I met his gaze unflinchingly. "Skitter," he nodded. He didn't change form once he cleared the wreckage, instead remaining elongated. A bit spider-like, now that I had the chance to view him in person.

"Miss Militia sent you to retrieve me?" I asked, and he nodded.

"That's right. Are you ready to go up?"

"Yes. No- wait," I said, shaking my head rapidly. Wake up! "You need to see something." His eyebrows rose as I spoke, and came to rest a good way up his forehead once I finished.

He looked ready to disagree, and the embarrassing image of him plucking me from the ground and hoisting me over his shoulder crossed my mind. But then his face smoothed out, and any uncertainty was replaced with indifference. He shrugged. "Lead the way."

I lead him through the brush and trees, having to stomp through several unforgiving branches to reach the second stream while he cut through with irritating ease until he stopped short once the water came into view.

"Miss Militia said that finding a river would be our best bet, lower elevation our second. I'm willing to bet that this is our answer," I said before he could speak.

My bugs picked up a slight hiss as his metal eyeballs slid against his lids, eyeing the stream. "I think you're right," he said, facing me. "I'll go and report this to Miss Militia."

"I already did," I told him without missing a beat. "She wants to see it herself before deciding if the rest should follow." I had relayed the information as I was fumbling in my answer to Weld. He frowned but nodded and left, cutting through the forest with the same effortlessness as before.

I followed him away with my bugs, taking the opportunity to remove my mask and hook it at my waist. I splashed my face awake, and washed out my mouth as best I could in place of a toothbrush- I missed mine more than words could express- then carefully followed the path Weld had made to my bush.

My spiders had done as well as I could've hoped. The silk band was only an inch wide, but it was a good start. A great start, I thought, and tugged it up my wrist. Spending my time out in the woods made me appreciate sleeves in a way cold never did. Scrapes and tiny cuts littered my arms, last night's fall only adding more grime and pain, so the sooner I could make sleeves, the better.

I stopped once I took sight of a furry leg peeking out from the leaves. My bugs already confirmed my suspicions, but I still hesitated before moving the branches away.

Five rabbits, each with their noses clogged of ants and spiders. I looked away as an ant crawled out from one's mouth.

How the hell was I going to explain this? Murdering fluffy little rabbits in my sleep by asphyxiation, choking them as I snoozed away; it wasn't the most endearing characteristic. And yet food was food, and I couldn't just waste them.

Weld returned with Miss Militia held in front of him, his arms folded underneath her own. I emerged from the brush with the rabbits as an afterthought. I could've hidden one or two, but I had horrible luck with secrets and this one wasn't worth keeping.

Miss Militia greeted me with a nod, one that I returned. "Where's this stream?" she asked, and I was thankful that she got right down to business.

Her reaction was much the same as mine, and she sent Weld to collect the rest of our group from where they were waiting. A quick check showed them along the edge, Kid Win replacing his tool kit in his armor last second.

As we waited, I felt more than saw her twitch. A pinch of dread filled me as she had finally noticed the rabbits, and I waited for her response.

She said nothing.

I buried my surprise under a healthy dose of suspicion, waiting for her to broach the subject, but she remained silent.

Once Weld had finished ferrying the rest down the slope, they met Miss Militia and I at the edge of the stream. None of them responded with the amount of glee I thought my discovery merited, but I didn't mind. I was still pleased. I'd only discovered it because I fell, but they let me fall. Therefore, I felt like it was close enough to call it a personal victory. I had to take those as they came.

As we set off once more, I was both disappointed and proud of my progress.

I had proved my usefulness outside of fighting, showing that I could provide for our group and with a little help, build us a fire. I didn't think they would abandon me- Miss Militia's short speech rang fresh in my mind- but it would be better if they saw that I had more abilities beyond ruthlessly incapacitating my enemies.

And yet I didn't miss the way Miss Militia never let her eyes stray from me for too long. It didn't escape me that I'd had a designated guard since two days ago when I'd first awoken. I hadn't had a lone moment except when I left to relieve myself. Weld was no further than an arm's reach at all other times, and I even caught Clockblocker more than once stray towards me. Deliberate or not, it worked to set my paranoia on fire.

I garnered from the sun that managed to sneak through the cover of the trees that it was close to noon, which meant the heat would only rise. My skin already glistened with the beginning of what promised to be buckets of sweat throughout the day, and I fought the urge to distance myself further from the group.

Disregarding the stench of blood and smoke that was quickly becoming my trademark, I felt and smelled grungier than ever. We all probably stank barring Weld, but that didn't stop me from feeling self-conscious.

Clockblocker fell back from his place beside Kid Win to join me at the back of the group. I tensed, but he remained curiously silent. Miss Militia's work, no doubt.

His costume was scratched and marked with dirt, bare of the animated clocks that usually covered it, yet he walked with a straight back and squared shoulders. He didn't acknowledge me, not so much as glance my way, but I felt his eyes regardless.

I withdrew to my bugs. Birds flew above us, drawn to my swarm and I had to disperse it to dissuade a rather persistent sparrow. Water brought life, attracted it, and overhead were nests and hidey-holes that chirped from occupation. I smiled as I registered a doe further away hidden amongst the foliage, grazing on a patch of grass and wildflowers.

Though there wasn't much chatter save for the occasional check-in, we didn't walk in complete silence. There was a great deal of buzzing- my fault, but I couldn't help it. Birds sang their songs in the thicket, accentuated with the percussion of the rustle of leaves where a stray wind blew. It was high enough in the tree tops that we couldn't feel it, which was a tease under the blistering sun.

But despite its beauty, I couldn't ignore the uglier side. The ground had started to twist underfoot with roots, making it a maze to find the right footing. Coupled with the shroud of branches that obscured our view of the sky, and this forest was becoming downright hellish.

"How are we doing?" Miss Militia called out. The stream had begun to widen considerably, but I wouldn't call it a river. It was shallow enough that I could spot fish darting across the stream bed.

A variety of "fine" rang out, accompanied by a thumbs up from Clockblocker that was a little too enthusiastic. Miss Militia spared Vista a longer glance than the rest of us. The girl was standing straight but her exposed skin was tellingly pale. She didn't say anything, though, and we continued on.

By the time we reached an overhang, the bottom masked by more crowding trees, Vista was on Clockblocker's back with her mouth drawn into a taut frown. Sweat marked her upper lip, and my mosquitos picked up her shallow gasps whenever Clockblocker fumbled in his steps.

But then the trees cleared away after we managed to untangle ourselves downhill, and we paused to take in the sight.

Our little stream was no less than the arm of a very large body of water. Miss Militia had been right. The river was calm where we stood, but the low thrum of a drumming current rolled farther down, out of sight. Across from us, mountains shyly peeked over the treetops, unhindered by the now inconsequential branches, and their frosted tips glowed blindingly in the sunlight. It was breathtakingly cliché.

Miss Militia recovered first and followed where our stream poured into the river. She balanced her way across the jagged rocks that made up the top of the river bank. They were loose enough that it made crossing them a dangerous game of hopscotch when they wobbled, but after the immediate jumble the rocks lessened in size till only smooth, gray pebbles sprinkled with larger stones remained.

"West coast," I spoke up from the back of the group.

Miss Militia turned her head to where it had been focused on a handful of pebbles. She regarded me for a moment, then the mountains that loomed over us. "I'd say you're right," she said.

"West coast? As in, America?" Kid Win asked, slightly breathless. On Clockblocker's back shifted Vista, her face buried into his armored shoulder.

Miss Militia nodded. "Yes. I'd suspected it from some of the plants, though I'm no expert on botany. If anything, these mountains confirm it." The pebbles trickled to the ground with a tilt of her hand. She stood. "The largest forests are in the west. Depending on where we are, it could take weeks to reach civilization. However, if you don't mind a blind guess I'd put us in the Northwest." Her face softened into a smile, however slight it was. "That's a good thing."

I suppressed a frown. I've never been on the West coast, but from what I knew about the Northwest, it rained. A lot. I could see from a practical standpoint that rain meant fresh water, but with a river as our guide it was going to cause more trouble than it was worth. We had no shelter, and if it rained hard enough to produce some sort of mudslide or flooding, we'd be screwed.

"That's a good thing," Miss Militia repeated, "because while the forests in the Northwest can be large, they're definitely better to be stranded in than those of Alaska or California."

We all adjusted to the new information. If Miss Militia's blind guess was correct, we had a chance. Maybe a small one, but it was a fighting one. Like a crippled boxer, I thought. I could work with that. But if she was wrong…

I guess I'd have more time to prove that the heroes needed the villains.

"In any case, all we can do now is focus on the present." A bowie knife holstered itself against her thigh. "I think some bathing is due. We'll rest here, take our time until we're ready to move again."

Miss Militia softened her voice, her tone motherly as she reached out to lift Vista off of Clockblocker's back. "I think we'll go first. If you would all go back into the forest?" she asked. It wasn't a question.

Weld, Kid Win, Clockblocker and I made our way back to the tree line. The low branches and tangled roots were claustrophobic compared to the open air, and I focused on a trail of ants marching in the sun to distract from the sensation.

We stopped before burying ourselves too deep into the forest. I sat on the ground, a rough trunk against my back, resigned at the fact that I couldn't outrun the smell of pine. Beyond the stench of my own body, I was beginning to take on the scent of an air freshener.

Kid Win sat further away, already unloading various pieces of his armor to work on them with his small tool kit. Weld crossed his legs, making his lack of a groin obvious to the world.

Clockblocker set himself down in front of me, and I stared at the smooth face of his mask, waiting for him to speak.

He didn't disappoint. "Miss Militia doesn't want me talking to you without her around. Gave me an order, said she'd add it to my record if we return to Brockton Bay." I noted the 'if'. "But I just want a few more answers before we get too deep into this alliance. I don't know how long we'll be in it. Then I'll leave you alone."

Weld sent him a look I couldn't identify, but he didn't step in.

"Are you sure you want to risk it?" I asked.

He chuckled humorlessly. "What, are you worried? Or is that some genuine concern for my pristine record?"

"I'm worried you're not going to like what you'll hear."

He tilted his head, watching me for a moment. Kid Win paused in his tinkering and spared us an uncertain look. Then, "Sophia Hess."

A/N:

This chapter was an incredible, but enjoyable pain. I probably began this chapter towards the middle-end of February and made huge alterations several days ago. I ended up taking a good 3,500+ words out and moved them to next chapter. So if the writing style seems to change halfway through (which would be devastating), that would be why.

Let me know if everyone is in character! I found myself continuously adding snarky little comments from Taylor's perspective, which I then removed most of in horror because it seemed just a bit OOC. I'm a little worried that that continued over to the next chapter, so let me know if it's still weird.