A/N: Over on the Spacebattles thread, I've done a bit of commentary on my thoughts going into this series. I hope it can answer some questions people here on FFN may have.

Stasis 2.1

That night, my mom let me stay over so I could begin training with Miss Militia. Apparently, the sooner I could defend myself, the better. I also liked the time without a huge crowd watching, and it was better than another night reading alone.

Plus, one of the best ways to learn martial arts for me involves watching cheesy old movies!

We'd retired to a smaller training area with padded walls and an array of training weaponry. Miss militia had gotten the projector and screen from earlier, and we were watching some Bruce Lee. I was dutifully taking in every moment of action, letting my brain learn the basics of dozens of forms. Meanwhile, I was asking Hannah (we had unmasked by this point) some important questions.

'What's it like to never sleep?' was my first, most pressing question. She took a minute, then responded, "Do you remember… them?"

I was reminded of the things at the beginning of my dream. She knew about them? I thought they were part of my worlds, and put them out of mind. 'The things in the void?' A sharp intake of breath. "You are the first cape I've ever asked that could remember them, besides myself. Everyone else looks confused." She reached out, and paused the movie. "Michael, I'd like to tell you about my trigger event."

She told me about her happy village in the jungle, her family and all her friends in the village. She talked about being taken from her home, knowing her family was dead, and being forced to be a human minesweeper at gunpoint. Hannah told me about the moment she knew she couldn't step forward, how she saw the beings in the void, how she forgot afterward, how she stopped the men. She told me that she had perfect memory, and could sleep if she wanted to, and when she slept, she relived it all. That she only remembered the godlings because she remembered her dreams perfectly, and how she knew she wasn't crazy, that it was everyone else who had forgotten, and couldn't talk about it.

It was heartbreaking.

I told her about my life in return, in jilted, robotic snippets. I told her how my dad wouldn't visit, how my mom was quietly broken inside, how my brothers each had their own issues with anger and depression. I told her how little I had known about the world, how little say I had in my life, and how it had left me in a school of kids who didn't want to talk to me. How any attempt to find friends was shot down, how any attempt to succeed was met with ridicule for being too smart, but how they never did anything you could confront someone about. How my life had fallen apart in the last half of second grade, leaving me with nothing from the good days except my own family.

I told her about the realization over the summer, the jokes I had never gotten making sense, hurting more in the remembering, and the loss of innocence as my new viewpoint was only confirmed over the year. How I lost hope, lost sight of everything important, just knew I couldn't do another few years of this. I described the attempt, not a call for help; I had really climbed up there to kill myself, and had waited for my family to see, to let them hurt. How the moment I fell, I regretted it all, and how the last thing I felt was pain.

I told her how I dreamed of the two creatures spiraling, how I could hear their thoughts, how they were so different in intent. I remembered a flash as 1 piece hit another, and then I was in the dream worlds. I finally told Hannah how the worlds were each the greatest thing I had ever seen, like waking up in Yellowstone when the stars were like a river in the sky, and the moon is bright enough to see by, but you knew that the entire world was that beautiful. I told her how every time I went to one, I was reminded that I could escape, that nothing could touch me there. I told her how I wasn't afraid of villains, I would fight Endbringers if I was able, but I was scared I couldn't be strong enough to resist my own powers.

By the end of it all, I was crying as I typed, and she had me in a half hug so that I could see my phone. I was tired, and sad, and relieved to finally get it out there. I had confronted these feelings a bit when I learned how to call my fire, but this was the first time I had told anyone the full extent of my issues. I needed that, and couldn't thank her enough for letting me talk about it for a while. I set down my phone and leaned into the hug, and we just sat there for a time.

Finally, I dried my tears, gave a weak smile, and grabbed my phone, typing, 'You think we can get some ice cream or something before we start the movie again? She laughed a little, nodded, and we donned our masks. Their cafeteria didn't have much selection in ice cream, but chocolate would do. We hurried back, nodding at the night guards as we passed them in the halls, and returned to the sparring room to finish our entertainment in more companionable silence. Ice cream was had, and it was the best thing I'd ever eaten, plain chocolate soothing all the little problems for a little while longer.

-Shangri-La-

Hannah was a tough, but fair teacher. Her perfect memory meant she could see every little thing I had gotten wrong with the last kata, and point it out to me, but repletion was the only way to make sure my body knew how to do the motions correctly. We realized that the main problem I had was that any motion I saw was intended for a more adult body type when she asked me to do a grab and I grabbed down, instead of up. By the time I was a teen, I might be able to learn martial arts just by watching, but I couldn't afford to wait that long, and to be honest, I could afford to lose some weight.

So repetition and correction was the way to go. I quietly thanked Amy again for the tune-up, because I was already tired, and the only reason I wasn't sweaty was because I was taking it straight to the floor with my powers. It felt like cheating, but keeping my clothes clean and practicing with my powers was a win-win. I offered the same to Hannah, but she declined, citing wanting to work up a sweat as her reasoning. We worked on the forms well into the early morning, then hit the showers before heading up for an early breakfast. The kitchen staff were busy at work, cooking up a storm of sausage and biscuits for the departing night shift and arriving day shift, and we helped ourselves to some as well.

Last night had been a good thing. I really felt like Miss Militia understood me now, and that I could trust her both as a member of the team and as an adult. I was glad to have helped her out, too. I literally couldn't imagine spending so many years remembering something perfectly when nobody else remembered it at all. Neither of us had any idea what it meant, but at least we knew there was someone like us out there, and that they were close to home. I looked forward to more grueling training and movie nights in the future.

Speaking of which… 'Before I get taken home, can we go over my team's powers?' I had just realized that we had forgotten that little detail, while we were going over my powers. Miss Militia nodded, taking a moment to swallow before saying, "I thought you had met the other Wards already?" I shrugged, typed 'We forgot to talk about their powers,' and gave her an expression like 'what can you do?'

After breakfast, she took me back to the training room, which was surprisingly not smelly; I would have expected a smallish room full of sweat would get a bit musky, but maybe they had something to deal with that. Hannah pulled down her scarf, and went to the laptop next to the projector, pulling up a file onto the projector screen. A picture of Triumph popped up, and she began with the rundown of powers.

I found out a few interesting things over the next few hours. Gallant could see emotions, and shoot blasts that affected them as well. Aegis could adapt his own biology. Clockblocker didn't just freeze people, he could freeze anything in place, and nothing seemed to affect the thing until his power ended. I had so many ideas for that, not the least of which was a counter-prank for that handshake he tricked me with. Stalker had, in short, a ninja's dream powers, and Kid made friggin laser beams. Vista and I would be training together in the future, as even I got starry-eyed at the sheer synergy in battlefield control we had together.

Triumph was moving up to the Protectorate before Christmas, but regardless, he seemed to cover areas that had gaps. He added wide area attacks, was strong enough to overpower normal people, and healed better than normal, too. Assault could redirect kinetic force through his body, including his own hits, and teamed with his wife Battery, who charged, then basically became amazing for a bit. Armsmaster was a Tinker with an absurdly useful specialty, and a talent for melee combat.

Dauntless was rather confusingly a Trump/Tinker who imbued items with powers, slowly adding layers of ability each day until they would (hopefully) become godlike in power. This confused me more because it had nothing to do with tinkering, but I guess everyone makes mistakes. Velocity had super-speed, but could only affect the world a little as he gained speed, and had to exert more effort to bring things heavier than clothes with him. He made up for it, though; to him, it was the world that seemed to slow around him, giving him super reflexes, insane battle awareness, and time to think about problems.

"… and of course, I have perfect memory, never need sleep, and can create any weapon I've ever seen, save more complex Tinkertech. I don't just mean guns; anything that can be loosely classed as a weapon, my energy can become." She demonstrated by turning the knife she had at her waist into a gun, then a garrote wire, then, with a smile, a solid rubber chicken, then back to a knife. "That's all of the Protectorate and Wards. You'll be briefed on the other teams in the city another day. For now, we need to get you home. I believe we'll continue training tonight, if that's okay with your family. Give your mom my card, have her call me if you can't make it tonight." She handed me a card, then gestured toward the door. "Let's go."

-Shangri-La-

I was feeling sore all over, and there was still much to do. My mother and I had several extracurricular activities that needed cancelling. I was a member of a local swim team, a Cub Scout, and my school needed to be notified of my new disability and 'necessary tutoring' that would begin taking place each afternoon. The new 'tutoring' was the excuse for any patrols or other events in the Wards, and most of the time it would be actual tutoring, learning sign language, and attending a Parahumans 101 class alongside Missy. Yay.

Much driving was had that day, and I got the feeling that emotional trauma and subsequent muteness made for a great excuse for cutting all manner of ties, and lent itself to sympathetic looks and well wishes. It hurt, seeing the looks of pity and realizing I would probably never see my fellow members again, except in passing. But, it had to be done. The Wards program was understandably time-consuming, and I had it even worse off than most Wards. I would need extra classes, to keep up with my team's education level in the more important areas; PR classes, and building a heroic persona from the ground up; nightly martial arts with Hannah; sign language and tap code classes, briefings to bring a non-cape-nerd into the loop, more briefings on rules and regs, even more briefings on who knows what else, and Monday therapy sessions.

I was never, ever, ever going to have free time again, was I?

I sighed, still wishing I had a voice as I did so; it was so odd, how many little noises I could no longer make. A sigh wasn't the same without a little vocal hum to it; a laugh was a huffing, raspy thing without some HAH behind it. I stared out the widow of the car, watching the people walk by as we waited for the light, wondering if it was a brain thing, or if I had just forgot how to use my vocal chords, or something. I listened to the radio, some pop song playing, and hoped being a hero had been the right decision, not just for my powers, but for me.

Of course it was, brain! I might be missing out on swimming, but now I could control water. Why would I need to learn how to gather wood when I could throw fire? Who needed a tent when you could summon a palace on a whim, and who cared about medals or belt loops when you could put people who deserved it in prison? I would miss the people, but that was nothing new. People left my life all the time. I would be fine.

We pulled up to another stop, and a part of me noted a black van pulling up next to us at the light. A Toyota, maybe? I didn't really care. The driver was a gruff looking man with sunglasses, and he glanced around, maybe looking at me and my mom, then on to the traffic in the intersection. The light changed, and he pulled away from us, turning right. I returned to my thoughts, my mom keeping her eyes on the road.

I was going on about all the downsides, but at the end of the day, I was now absurdly powerful, and I had a duty to others to help the city. I enjoyed most of the other Wards' company, and thought Armsmaster was a good leader and that Miss Militia was a good person. Even Deputy Director Renick was a nice person, and that wasn't easy for someone who was in charge of stuff. The only person I had had any real problem with was Stalker, and that was a bad day for her.

Another intersection.

I studied the brown sedan next to us with boredom, noting the Lords Elementary sticker on the side. Hey, we went to school together. Great.

I had no friends at school.

I hated school.

Lots of kids hate going to school. I didn't. I wanted to learn, often felt driven by a need to know. I was a Ravenclaw, regardless of the fact that that was fiction. I liked my teachers, and much of the administration. I didn't hate school for being school. I hated it because the students going to my school were selfish, and exclusive, and judgmental. I hated it because the way grades are measured gave me a disadvantage, focusing too much on busywork without measuring learning ability.

I hated school, because school seemed to hate me.

We pulled into the lot, and I let the scowl drop off my face. Wouldn't do to look upset with being here, even if it was a Saturday. We walked into the front office, and were directed to the Principal's office. He closed the door behind us, and he and my mom exchanged pleasantries as we sat.

Principal Louis was an imposing man, but a jovial one. Slightly overweight and wearing square glasses, he looked like the picture of a dad who took you fishing on a lake, and was generally very kind as he interacted with the students. I didn't blame him for not noticing my problems, either. He was in his office most of the day, or wandering the halls like it was his home. My struggles passed in silence beneath his watch, that was all.

My mom handed him the Wards notice, and he looked it over with surprise. Not every week one of your students gains powers. After a few minutes reading it, he nodded, finally acknowledging me. "Mr. Vanderbilt, we're happy to have you join our tutoring program, and will of course take steps to protect your identity while doing so. I trust you realize that you will still have to keep up with your schoolwork, but considering your already present accommodations, that shouldn't be too much of a problem, right?" I didn't respond. My accommodations were patronizing at best, because they were designed less for intelligent students and more for the other end of the scale.

My mother took my silence to be assent, and said, "About that, Mark. Michael lost his voice when he got his powers, and will be learning sign language to compensate. Until then, he will be writing or using his phone to communicate, so please notify the teachers about that. If the school has any decent recordings that include his voice, we would sincerely appreciate it if you could loan them to us. There is a chance we could at least give him an approximation of his old voice back."

The principal nodded. "We'll give it a look Ms. Vanderbilt. I of course can't promise anything, but we'll try." He opened his hands. "Is there anything else we need to be aware of?"

I pulled out my phone. They looked at me with surprise, moreso when the phone said in its robotic tones, 'I want you to crack down on bullying.' He gave me an appraising look. "Michael, we have a no-tolerance policy on bullying here at Lords Elementary. If you have had a problem with bullies, why haven't you taken it to the staff?" I bristled. Furiously typing, the phone failed to convey any indignation as it said, 'I did tell the staff. No evidence of bullying found.' 'Rules fail to help with isolation and verbal bullying tactics.' He nodded a little at that, but asked, "What do you mean by isolation?"

'Nobody will be my friend. Last pick in everything.' 'Sit alone at lunch. Nobody talks to me.' He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry to hear that, but the school cannot help you make friends. If you can record the verbal bullying, we can use that as evidence to punish those responsible." He raised a hand at my mother's rise to protest. "I do not like hearing that a classroom environment has become so toxic that a boy can be bullied without consequence. I will be scheduling additional training for all teachers, as well as directing them to have a special classroom discussion, and perhaps, with the cooperation of the PRT, an appearance by the Wards to talk about the problem. I must stress that while the classes for teachers will start as soon as I can schedule it, any major improvements will not be immediate, and major events like assemblies must wait until after winter break. Is this satisfactory, Mister Vanderbilt?"

I thought about it. I was not surprised the school couldn't directly help. The fact was, even if this didn't work, it was better than I had expected. I wasn't happy with it, but he was right, in the end. I nodded my assent.

"Good. If that is all for today?" "I believe so." "Good. Michael, your accommodations will be updated, and from now on you will be excused from school following recess, to attend special tutoring. A full list of instructions on where to report and what to say will be passed to you with the morning announcement sheet. Have a nice day, and I'll see you Monday." With that, we were shown the door, and he went back to typing on his computer.

My mom and I walked across the lot in silence. I was never one for conversation, and I got the feeling today was one of her bad days. My thoughts were confirmed when we drove to the nearest Sonic and she ordered three shakes and a malt, and we headed home.

There was much rejoicing as we came in with the shakes, and we were quickly coerced into a new game of Monopoly, which, when combined with sugary goodness, did much to recover my good mood. I did pretty well for myself, but in the end, David threw the game because Jordan had accused us of cheating on our dice rolls and was pouting. The traitor sold half his properties at a pittance, leaving my youngest brother with almost no money, but half the board. Since he had just gone, he reaped huge amounts out of us, and we basically had to bankrupt ourselves each turn. Stupid brotherly love.

Afterwards, we scattered once more. I went to my room. I fed my fish, then turned to the bed. It was just a stupid window. I wanted to read on my bed, and I wouldn't be stopped by some silly hole with glass in it. I grabbed a book.

Actually, the armchair in the living room sounded good.

Hours of sky-swashbuckling later, I set down the book. Dinner was ready, and we ate in silence, nothing to talk about between the four of us. After it was cleaned up, I changed into some comfortable clothes for exercise, and we headed back to the Rig, to drop me off for the night. For work. What a strange thought. I, a tiny little kid, now had a minimum wage job.

Hiegh Ho, Hiegh Ho.