The graveyard had a certain kind of peaceful stillness to it, I decided.

It was never easy coming here. It brought too many memories of Mom. Too many memories of better times. Still, right now I needed this. Needed to see her, even if it was just her grave.

It's not like I thought she was actually listening. Our family wasn't really all that religious, after all. But, I suppose this wasn't really about her in the end. It was about me, about letting myself have some measure of peace after all the fucked up shit that had been going on in my life.

I let out a slow breath as I slowly sat down, just staring at the slab of rock, not quite sure what I should say.

I'm not really sure how much time passed like that. Just me sitting there, staring at the headstone, the world silent and still around me.

I finally got up and left.

In the end, I hadn't said anything.

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

I idly tapped a pencil against the paper and scowled. Truly, Algebra II was the most perfidious of school subjects.

Okay, so it wasn't that bad, really, but I was still annoyed with having to work on it at the moment. It's not like a teacher was even expecting me to turn it in or anything. It was just busy work that I had saddled myself with. Still, there was a good chance of having to take placement tests if my Dad managed to get me a transfer, so it was probably better if I was prepared.

It didn't make it less annoying though.

My eyes drifted across the desk, my attention span spent for the moment. I had ultimately decided to tell Dad to turn down the settlement, to fight things out in court. I'm not sure it was right decision. By all rights, if the system was in any way Just, we should be able to nail the school for what had happened on their watch.

But when had the system ever proven to be Just when I was concerned?

Even if we won the suit, it would take months at the minimum, and Dad had to figure out how to pay off both my hospital bills and whatever fees the lawyers charged him in the meantime.

I bit down on my lip. Was I being selfish by insisting on this? Dad was already stressed enough without me making him fight for his bullied daughter on top of everything else.

My eyes wandered to the corner of the desk, where a picture sat. Me, Mom, Emma, and Anne, all together. All smiling. I'd put almost all of my pictures of Emma into a shoebox that I'd stuffed into the back of my closet, but this one I'd kept out. I'd told myself that it was because it was a picture of Mom.

For a brief second, I wanted nothing more than to smash the frame it was in and tear both it, and every picture in that shoebox to shreds.

Then, the second passed and I pushed the impulse down. I wouldn't let Emma control me. I wouldn't give her that sort of satisfaction, not even in the confines of my own mind. No, even if it puts some strain on Dad, I would fight her and the school for what they had done to me.

We were still broke, but maybe I could look into getting a part time job or something to help out? It was worth looking into, at least.

I let out an aggravated sound and threw on a jacket. I'd spent enough time brooding this morning.

I got a full blast of cold, January wind as I stepped outside. I grimaced, locking the door behind me. It'd been a relatively warm January this year, which is to say that the dusting of snow we'd gotten over the weekend had mostly melted by this point, and there was only the occasional roadside puddle or smattering of salt to show for it.

It was still colder than I really felt comfortable walking about in, but I pushed past that annoyance and set out at a run. This is the other way I'd been spending my time since getting out of the hospital. I'd decided that I was tired of getting pushed around by Sophia, so I was working on getting stronger. Right now, that mostly meant running, but I figured I could ask Dad about getting self-defense lessons in the future.

It was honestly a lot easier than I thought it would be. Sure, the first day I was a sweaty mess and my heart felt like it was trying to rip it's way out of my chest. Despite having been so terrifically out of shape though, I'd shaped up surprisingly fast. It'd only taken a few days for me to run the distance the library comfortably, and I'd quickly been expanding my range.

A small part of me wondered if maybe I was getting in shape too quickly. It's not like I was upset with the results though, and maybe I'd just been pushing myself harder than most people did. I had more reason than most people, after all.

The library came into view across the street on the left and I ignored it and kept going. A fierce grin stretched along my face as I sprinted into the wind, my hair flowing out behind me. I'd never really been much into exercise of any sort before, but right now I could understand why people like Sophia joined track. There was something freeing about just focusing on the here and now and letting your cares fall away as you run.

I turn a corner. The pedestrian signal up ahead is blinking, a warning that it would be unsafe to cross soon. There should still be enough time for me to make it if I hurry though. I rush into the crosswalk and-

- A car flies through the intersection, running the red light. I notice it too late, I'm too far into the intersection. I manage a scream as three thousand pounds of metal crash into me -

- I stop, a few feet into the crosswalk, and a car flies through the intersection, running the red light. I notice it, but it's still moving too fast, and I'm not sure I'll be out of the way in time and - I fall and hit the sidewalk, the car barrelling past. A moment later, I hear a siren as the police follow on the driver's heels.

I stare at the intersection for a long moment. What had happened there? By all rights, I should be dead. I'd seen myself die. I let out a small, shuddering breath.

"Hey, you okay there?"

I look up at the voice - a young girl, clad in green, a visor protecting her face. Vista, one of Brockton Bay's Wards. I scramble to my feet, trying to ignore the heat suffusing my face and the bruises on my ass. "Uh. Yeah, I'm alright."

Real smooth.

"Glad to hear it. I was worried for a second that I might not have gotten to you in time. It was a pretty close call, even with my power." She smiled and stuck her hand out. "I'm Vista, by the way."

"I seem to be having a lot of those these days." I try to hold back my grimace and instead take her hand. "Taylor. Do you need to go catch that guy, or…?"

"Nah, the BPD's already got him, it sounds like." She paused and then carefully asked, "Hey, so where were you off to in such a rush? Shouldn't you probably be in school right now?"

"Er. I was just sort of running. For exercise, you know." I glanced away, the blush in my cheeks returning full force. Could there be anything more humiliating than having a Ward catch me for truancy? Maybe if it was somehow one of the Trio who did. "I'm sort of in the middle of a transfer between schools, so I'm still waiting for that to go through."

"Oh. So… what school are you transferring to?"

"Arcadia." Vista looked like she was holding back from asking the obvious question. I didn't really want to talk about it, but… Well, I'm sure it'd be over the news soon enough. "You'll probably hear about Winslow getting hit with a criminal negligence case before long."

"Er. That sucks, I guess? For you, I mean." Vista floundered for a moment before settling on the safe choice. "But hey, I'm supposed to start at Arcadia in the Fall. So I guess I'll probably see you there? Except, I guess, you won't know it's me, secret identity and all."

I couldn't resist sporting a small smile at Vista's babbling. "I suppose I'll just have to keep my eyes peeled for a cute Freshman then."

Vista's visor concealed the upper half of her face, but I could still feel the rolled eyes. "Yeah, sure, if that's enough to give me away you probably deserve to know my identity. Anyways, I've got to get going, but feel free to shoot me a message on PHO sometime if you want to talk."

I managed to get out, "Sure, talk to you later," before space warped and she was standing on the roof across the street instead. She waved, and then space warped again and she was gone.

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

The graveyard sat still and quiet once again.

I wasn't entirely sure why I'd come here in the wake of running into Vista. Maybe I just needed some reassurance. Regardless, I closed my eyes and leaned against the headstone.

"Hey Mom."

She still wasn't there to listen. I still didn't know what I wanted to say. So instead, I just sat there, listening to the wind. It shuddered through the trees in uneven bursts, kicking up and then dying down.

Wild. Still.

In. Out.

My breathing matched the wind, and I moved in time to it. Or maybe it moved in time to me. I was a part of the world, but it was also a part of me.

I smiled slightly. This sort of pseudo-philosophical thing wasn't like me. But right now it felt right. Right now it felt as though the entire world were some vast lake, and though I was but a drop of water in it, my movement would cause ripples that affected everything else.

Or perhaps, instead of a lake, it was a web, a tapestry of threads all connecting to one another. Tentatively, I reached out and pulled on one of those threads, feeling it vibrate. It was a fascinating, if somewhat meaningless feeling. This was, after all, just some picture my mind had cooked up while letting it drift.

I opened my eyes.

A small pebble was floating in front of me.

I leaned my head against the wall, letting the hot water wash over me, easing the small aches and pains from the morning. I'd started incorporating push ups and crunches into my morning routine, and while my body was quickly adapting, it was still in the stages where I felt mostly sore afterwards. Still, it was nice to see the subtle tone of muscle building on my legs, the small paunch I had slimming into flatness. If it was happening abnormally fast, well, maybe it was a side-effect from having powers now? You didn't see very many fat superheroes, after all.

I felt my lips curl up into a small smile. I had powers now. I hadn't figured out how to do much of anything with them yet, but I had powers now. I wouldn't be useless anymore. I wouldn't be helpless anymore.

I closed my eyes, focusing on that feeling I'd felt back in the cemetery. A ripple in the lake. A web of threads, running through everything, connecting everything together. But it was more than that, wasn't it? It was energy, pure and untamed. It was motion and light and life itself.

It was Power.

I knew it instinctively. Even though I hadn't managed to do anything with it yet, I knew there was so much potential there. And there was more there than I even saw. I could feel it, like it was on the tip of my tongue. The tip of my brain. Variations on a single theme. Different expressions of a single form.

Sighing, I shook my head, pulling away from the contemplation of whatever it was that my powers let me sense, and shut off the water that had long since gone cold. Gooseflesh pebbled my body and I quickly pulled a towel around myself to ward off the shivers running through me. Right. I'd have to try and avoid getting that immersed in things while in the shower. Especially in the middle of January.

I stepped out of the shower, drying my feet off as I went, before moving to the sink to plug the blow dryer in. Idly, I looked up into the mirror.

A stranger looked back at me.

I recoiled, a shout escaping me as my back hit the wall. I sat there for a long moment, breath escaping in short little gasps, before picking myself up to look at the mirror once again. My face looked back at me. The same thin face, too-wide lips, and large eyes as always.

A strangled laugh escaped me. I really must have been distracted to panic over nothing like that. It was a mirror. Who else would ever be in it other than me?

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

The graveyard laid quiet and still, as it had each time I had visited previously.

I wonder why it didn't see more visitors. It wasn't like the place was run down. Maybe death was just too common in Brockton Bay. People were too inured to it, to spend time thinking on the deceased. It's not like I could blame them. It took my near death to start visiting again.

Maybe I should invite Dad to come here with me.

I settled down next to Mom's grave, closing my eyes. It came a bit easier to me each time I did this. I saw that energy, that motion, that force that drove the Universe just a bit faster, felt it react just a bit quicker. I reached out, tugging ever so gently upon it, and opened my eyes.

A pebble floated in front of me. I pulled on it. Left. Down. Up. Right. I tried to keep it's motions smooth, responsive to my touch, but each movement came in little bursts of speed, jerking about before coming to just as sudden a stop.

I frowned and tried to focus on making it move in a slow circle. The pebble slammed into my forehead.

I let out a yelp of pain, slapping a hand to my forehead, and the pebble fell to the ground. I glared at it for a long moment before slowly making it rise once again.

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Private message from Vista:

Littleowl BB: Hello there. This is Taylor. We ran into each other the other day and you said it would be fine to message you on PHO?

Vista: Oh! Hi!

Vista: Honestly, I wasn't sure you would take me up on that.

Littleowl BB: I hope I'm not bothering you?

Vista: Not at all.

Vista: How've you been though? Everything with the transfer going okay?

Littleowl BB: I've been alright. I'm supposed to be taking placement tests on Wednesday.

Vista: You'll have to let me know how you do. :)

Littleowl BB: I should hope that the results will be halfway decent with the amount of preparation I've been doing.

Vista: Well, you should have your English essays down at least, if that's how you normally write.

Littleowl BB: What?

Vista: "I should hope that the results will be halfway decent"

Vista: It's a very… fancy way of talking.

Vista: Taylor?

Littleowl BB: Should I try to tone down how I write?

Vista: No! It's a little unusual, but there's nothing wrong with that.

Littleowl BB: Okay.

Littleowl BB: Do you mind if I ask you a cape related question?

Vista: Sure? Why wouldn't I?

Littleowl BB: I kind of figured that you probably got enough of that without random internet friends pestering you as well.

Vista: Oh. Well, go ahead and ask. I can always tell you to stop if I do get annoyed.

Littleowl BB: What made you decide to join the Wards after you discovered that you had powers?

Vista: Honestly? I didn't.

Vista: I told my parents about my powers and they decided that the Wards were the best place for me. My opinion at the time didn't factor in much.

Littleowl BB: Would you have rather stayed as an Independent?

Vista: Or maybe a villain. ;)

Littleowl BB: Well, that's a terrifying thought.

Vista: Haha. But really, I always wanted to be a Hero, so I probably would have wound up here anyways. It just would have been nice if it had been my decision instead of my parents'.

Littleowl BB: I think I get that. Do you like the Wards at least?

Vista: Yeah, they're pretty great. Well. Mostly.

Littleowl BB: Mostly?

Vista: I probably shouldn't talk about it. PR doesn't like when we say anything that could reflect badly on the Protectorate.

Vista: Have to present a united front and all that.

Littleowl BB: That sounds really annoying.

Vista *New Message*: It definitely can be at times.

...

I turned away from the computer screen and drummed my fingers on my desk. I had hoped that talking with Vista would help me what to do, but it ultimately just left me with more questions.

Should I join the Wards?

Vista didn't outright say it, but it sounded like there was still a good bit of teenage drama involved there. Besides, more than wanting the title of 'Hero,' I wanted to make a difference, to actually help people. If I was constantly being hamstrung by the Protectorate's PR department or being sent out for photo shoots, then how much would I actually be helping?

Should I tell my Dad that I had powers?

Vista had told her parents and they had taken the choice away from her. I'd like to say that Dad would be different, but I could see him forcing me into the Wards as well, if he thought it would keep me safer.

I let out a frustrated breath, glaring down at the World History books sitting on my desk. I suppose the two decisions were connected. If I wanted to join the Wards, then I would have to tell Dad. If I didn't want to join the Wards, then I couldn't tell Dad.

A knock came from downstairs, interrupting my brooding. It was probably for the best. I wasn't really getting anywhere like this. I pushed my chair out, ignoring the sound as it scraped against the floor and headed downstairs.

The knock came again, a bit quieter this time, and I yelled out, "Coming!" as I jogged my way down the stairs. I wondered who it could be, really. It was too early for Dad to be off work, and I couldn't think of anyone else who would come visit. Maybe it was the mailman with a package for Dad or something. I undid the lock and pulled the door open, only to stare as I saw who it was.

"Hi Taylor."

I froze. I think I might have even stopped breathing. For a long minute I just stood there inside the doorway before finally croaking out, "What do you want, Emma?"

"Can I come in?" Emma Barnes, my once best friend smiled tentatively up at me, her red hair catching the afternoon light. She wore just enough makeup to accentuate her features, tight clothes hugging close to her curves. She was beautiful in every way that I wasn't.

I try to reach out, to feel my powers, to try and feel if this was some sort of trap, if Madison and Sophia were just waiting around the corner somewhere, but all of it kept slipping away from me. My thoughts were too scattered, unable to focus in the face of Emma suddenly showing up at my house. I do my best to glare at her, and I think I manage decently from the way she flinches back for a second, before asking in the firmest voice I can manage, "What do you want, Emma?"

"I just… Can we talk, Taylor?"

I felt my body tremble. With rage, I told myself, not terror. I almost even believed it for a second. Emma was here, invading my last sanctuary. "No."

"Please? It won't take long."

I wanted to tell her to get lost. I wanted to slam the door in her face. Instead, I bit out, "Fine. You have five minutes."

I stomped my way back to the kitchen, shoving the door open and letting it bang off the wall, before yanking out a chair to drop down in, only to nearly miss as I hit the corner of the seat. My bruised ass complained, but I wasn't about to show weakness. A moment later, I heard another chair scrape along the floor as Emma sat across from me.

The silence stretched. Twenty seconds. Forty. A minute. It was awkward, but if she wanted to waste the time I had given her, I wasn't going to stop her.

Finally, Emma spoke up. "I'm sorry."

My lips thinned. "For what? Finally doing something that you couldn't just cover up, Emma?"

"No, I - You weren't supposed to get hurt, Taylor. Sophia said she would go back and let you out after a couple of minutes. It was just a stupid joke."

I felt something inside of me go still. I'd heard a lot of people talk about 'seeing red' or burning up with rage, but if anything, I felt cold right now. A sort of crystal clear clarity had sharpened my thoughts. "A stupid joke." My voice came out flat, but I couldn't bring myself to care about being more emotive for Emma right now. "You put me into a coma for a week, Emma. The doctors said I came close to dying. What about that is a joke to you?"

Emma bit down on her lip. "That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

"I just - Look, that's not the point! I didn't want to actually hurt you, Taylor."

"Really? Because you've spent the last two years finding ways to hurt me, Emma."

I saw her wince at that. On some level I wanted to believe it. That even if the locker was what it took, I would have my best friend back again. But I knew it was too good to be true. Oh, sure, she might feel guilty right now. That would fade in time though, and then we'd just be back to where we were before.

I cut in before she could try to come up with an excuse. "Why did you come here, Emma? Why now?"

"I... I heard that you were getting a transfer to Arcadia."

"Yeah, I am. Why should it matter to you? How did you even find out?"

"Uncle Danny's been over talking to my Dad about the lawsuit. Trying to get advice."

My blood ran cold at that. I hadn't told Dad who was responsible for me being in the locker. Dad had been going to Alan for help because I told him to fight the school instead of taking a settlement. If I told him now… Dad would storm over to yell at Alan, Alan would fight back to defend his daughter, and we would probably lose the lawsuit.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "You do not get to call him that. Not anymore, Emma."

She frowned at that, her brow furrowing for a second before smoothing itself out again. "If you say so Taylor. Look, I heard about how bad off you were in the hospital, and that you were transferring away, and I just… I knew this might be my last chance to try and talk to you. To not leave things the way they've been."

I stared at her for a long moment. She hadn't been happy that I had put that distance there and had immediately moved to say something that she knew I would want. Slowly, deliberately, I replied, "You mean, you didn't want to risk that I would escape you."

"No! God! Why are you always so difficult?! I meant what I said! I'm trying to apologize, but you always have to make everything into a fight!"

I flinched, something instinctive in me shrinking back at the sound of Emma yelling. Like I was just waiting for something bad to happen. That didn't make sense though. Emma had never used yelling to hurt me. Her barbs were always more targeted than that.

She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's the same thing with Sophia! If you'd fought back against her or submitted like a good little minion, she wouldn't have given you a second glance! But no! You always have to pull this stubborn bullshit where you act like you'll just weather out the storm, and that makes you a target for her! Something she has to fix!"

I saw red. So she wants to blame Sophia, does she?

How dare she? How dare she? Sophia wasn't the one who went around telling the school I was a bigot, a whore, and a druggy every day. Sophia wasn't the one who turned things around and got me in trouble every time I tried to report the Trio for doing something to me. Sophia wasn't the one who knew how much my Mother's flute mattered to me or how I cried myself to sleep after she died. Sophia didn't use twelve years of friendship against me.

"Get out."

"No, just listen to me-"

"Get. Out."

My heartbeat drummed in my ears, drowning out whatever Emma had to say. My body shook, and I was certain that it was rage this time, as the house shook with me. Cabinets and drawers rattled, opening and slamming shut. I squeezed my hands tight, my nails biting deep into my flesh, and I heard something shatter behind me.

"Taylor? What's going on?!" Emma's voice shook, eyes wide in sudden terror, and she stumbled backwards, her chair falling to the ground. "Taylor? Please stop, I didn't mean to upset you, I didn't mean-"

A plate flew and shattered against the wall, near Emma's head this time and she finally stopped talking. That was the final incentive she needed as she ran for the door, tearing her way out of the house.

I let her go. I didn't care anymore. I just drew my legs up to my chest and lowered my head to cry into my knees.

My Dad found me there hours later, shivering in the cold. The front door still hung open, and broken plates still lay scattered about the floor. I told him the story about Emma coming over in halting sentences, though I explained the plates as my having physically thrown them.

I'd certainly been angry enough.

Through it all, a cold worry wormed its way through my gut. Emma knew I had powers. Emma of all people. If I ever tried to debut as a cape, she'd be able to hold my identity as her own personal blackmail. Hell, even if I didn't become a cape and just kept to myself, she could still sell my identity to one of the gangs if she felt like it.

I was fucked, plain and simple.

I debated telling my Dad that I had powers now, but then he pulled me into a hug, let me cry into his shoulder, and I could feel the guilt and anxiety rolling off of him. He thought it was his fault for not being here. He thought it was his fault for not noticing that Emma and I had become distant. He thought it was his fault for not noticing the bullying.

Telling him about my powers would just make him worry more. It would just add to his burden. I couldn't do that.

I eventually pulled away from him. "Sorry Dad. I just - she said she came to apologize and to try and help out with everything going on, but I just got so angry with her."

"Shh. It's okay. I don't blame you for being angry at her, she probably deserves a good yelling at, all things considered." He paused, and then his voice turned wry. "I probably would have preferred if you hadn't broken our plates though."

A hiccuping sort of sound escaped me, half laughing, half crying. He still didn't actually know that Emma was responsible for everything. He probably just thought that Emma had grown distant and was blaming herself for not protecting me or some bullshit. "I'll try to avoid breaking any more in my future rampages."

"Future rampages? I'm not sure humanity will last." I gave a small grin in response and my Dad went quiet for a moment. It gave me the chance to simply relax into his arms, to stop worrying and simply allow my mind to slowly turn over what had happened.

I needed to get better at using my power. I needed to actually be capable of controlling it.

And if Emma did use my secret against me?

A strange knot untied in my stomach as I planned how to deal with my once best friend.

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

"And time's up."

I stretched, setting my pencil down. With this, I had finished the last of my placement tests.

"If you bring your test up, I'll take it and you can be on your way, Taylor. Or, if you'd prefer, you can wait a few minutes while I grade it, and hear your score ahead of time."

I handed my paper off to the teacher that had been assigned to proctor me and quietly said, "I'd prefer to wait, if that's okay, Mr. Harrison."

"Of course. Just a minute then."

I nodded and sat back down, the class going quiet apart from the quiet scritch of Mr. Harrison's pen and the occasional shuffling of papers. I suppose I had been lucky that my last test was almost entirely multiple choice - it made it quick to grade.

Finally, Mr. Harrison shuffled the papers back into order, and looked up at me. "Alright, that's that. You've done excellent in just about every category, Taylor. I don't think you have anything to worry about regarding your placement."

I was safe. I'd had a hidden fear that I would somehow screw this up and end up back at Winslow. That tension unraveled and I smiled in response.

"One more thing before you go. The teachers weren't exactly briefed about you, but rumors do still have a way of getting around. If anyone bullies you the way they did at Winslow, I want you to know that you can come to us. We will listen."

"I um." I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, trying to ignore how my eyes went blurry. "Thank you."

"Please enjoy the rest of your day, Taylor."

I smile and nod in response. Maybe things really would be different here.

Author's Note:

Whew. I think the reaction to this one should be interesting. I originally wrote a version of the Emma scene for the aforementioned Blind!Taylor version of this fic. Emma having an actual legitimate moment of remorse is probably easier to believe when she's permanently crippled Taylor in a way that outright reminds of her time in the alleyway. That said, this Taylor came out of the locker a lot worse off than she did in canon, so it's still somewhat plausible, I think.

Assuming, of course, that you believe her when she says she is legitimately remorseful and it isn't just an act.

During the shower scene, I used a few descriptions of the Force that were inspired by Peace is a Lie, by inwardtranscience. It's a pretty good one-shot of a Sith Inquisitor. My use of Darth Occulus differs quite a bit from theirs, but it's still a good read if you care to take the time.