A Side DH
Danny checked his mirrors first. The reporters had backed off the house, but they remained relentless. They followed him to work and to his friends' places. Even bars. Danny had been doing his more controlled drinking at home to avoid any headlines declaring Newtype's father a drunkard.
And if it wasn't the reporters, it was the groupies. Danny remembered being popular with girls in college—back when he had hair—and this many women hadn't pursued him since then. Most of them also happened to be crazy and half his age.
All because Taylor had the brilliant idea of outing herself to destroy the Empire in one spectacular display.
Danny blamed himself more than Taylor.
When she told him outing was inevitable and she wanted to make use of it herself rather than let Teacher do it, Danny didn't really try to stop her. Sometimes he wondered if he wanted to punish himself. He ignored Taylor and things spiraled, so this was what he got?
Coast looked clear at least.
"I think we lost them," Danny said.
"They are still looking several blocks north-east," Veda informed him.
"That was dangerous. Cutting off traffic like that could cause an accident."
"Chasing a private citizen through the streets is exceedingly dangerous and highly illegal in several jurisdictions. In comparison, a minor traffic violation is much safer."
Danny wasn't sure he'd call running a van through a red light a minor traffic violation.
"You don't like reporters, do you Veda?"
"Not particularly."
"Why?" Not that Danny particularly liked them either, but he knew a few and they were okay. The tabloid vultures chasing him gave them a bad name.
"They were disinterested in this story when it would have made a difference in Taylor's life. Now it is exciting to them, solely because it is dramatic."
Danny nodded, though he doubted Veda could see him in the parking garage. "If they'd done something early, you probably wouldn't exist."
Veda said nothing at first and Danny wondered if maybe he shouldn't have said that.
"I didn't mean—"
"I had not considered that… It is a strange thought."
"I wasn't trying to upset you."
"I am not," she assured him. "I still do not like reporters. Those following you at least are very inconsiderate."
"Fair." Danny sat for a moment. He didn't feel entirely ready to get out. That was his main problem he supposed; facing his daughter. "How have you been, Veda?"
"I am well. Why do you ask?"
Procrastination. "Just curious. Taylor's been busy lately. There have been some days where the two of you barely seem to talk."
"Is that odd?"
"I guess I find it uncomfortably familiar."
Danny found it strange to think of a machine as a relative, but if Taylor was essentially Veda's mother that made Danny the closest thing she'd have to a grandfather. He'd hate to see Taylor and Veda become a repeat of his own relationship with Taylor.
"I am not sure I mind it? I am young but I am comfortably self-sufficient? Taylor has been very busy with school and various legal matters. I do not mind. I am pleased to see her… Dragon called it 'branching out' I believe."
Danny did like seeing her back in school. He knew she didn't need it. Watching Taylor do math problems reminded him of college professors and their giant chalkboard equations he didn't remotely understand. She was more than smart enough to graduate and start college.
But school was more than just a piece of paper certifying that you learned things.
School taught relationships and friendships that influenced your entire life. Taylor had good friends. Lafter brought her out of her shell in a way only Emma had previously been able to. Dinah and Taylor seemed able to spend hours talking about books between themselves, and other things. Veda was the most loyal soul Danny had ever met and Murrue? Well, no one could ever replace Annette. Perhaps it was old fashioned, but Danny liked that Taylor had someone to fill that roll.
He'd rarely seen her interact with the likes of Dragon, Armsmaster, Trevor, or Orga, but they all seemed respectable to him. Orga came especially surprising in that regard. Where Danny dedicated himself to the Dockworkers, Orga stood willing to do anything for the boys who followed him. He reminded Danny of himself in that regard.
All of those relationships revolved around being Newtype, though. He knew they were the same person, but Danny found it hard to reconcile one with the other. His Taylor was a chatterbox, inquisitive like her mother and energetic like her father. That's the image he had and no amount of acceptance that she'd grown up and changed seemed to shake that image from his expectations.
If nothing else they'd help her in their own ways. Taylor would be okay and he appreciated that she was trying. Really, it felt more like his failure that things kept drifting between them. He couldn't get the words out and no gesture seemed like it wouldn't anger her, so he barely tried. It's a strange thing, knowing what you're doing is wrong but being unable to shift course.
Maybe he could if it were anyone but Taylor.
"I have been thinking of doing the same," Veda said.
"Hmm? The same what?"
"Branching out. Exploring other possibilities for myself. Not to brag, but time is a vastly different constraint for me than it is for you or Taylor."
Right. AI. Veda thought faster than any human did. She could do dozens of things at once with ease. Taylor had her running a factory, pretending to be two or three different capes, building tech and developing simulations, and she ran Dungeons and Dragons games on the side. Most people could do all those things in a day, maybe. Veda did them all in an hour, minute to minute.
"Are you bored?" Did she get bored?
"I am uncertain if bored is the right word. I think curious is more appropriate. I have never stretched far from Taylor's side and have been content in that for my comparatively short existence. With Taylor's return to school however, I have observed that leaving one's comfort zone is difficult but potentially rewarding."
"How so?" She got attacked by a monster. A paradoxical thought given his feelings on seeing Taylor in school, but father's prerogative.
"She is learning basketball. She will not admit to it, but last night she was watching videos on dribbling while awaiting the results of a simulation. I have never observed Taylor showing much interest in such a thing before."
"She likes it?"
"I believe she does."
Danny nodded to himself. "What would you do?"
"I am not sure," she admitted. "I will see what happens. It seems to work for the rest of the world, in its own way." A very down to Earth approach for the world's first living machine. "Are you ready to go in?"
Danny flinched and after a moment smiled. She would figure it out. Plenty of time to think, and her maker was very smart.
"Yes. Thank you, Veda."
"You are welcome."
Danny pushed the door open and stepped out of his truck. He knew his way around from three prior visits. Elevator in the north corner to floor fifteen. From there he needed to cross the top of the old building the tower stood on. He remembered the work that went into expanding the structure in the late nineties. It was the last big construction project in Brockton Bay that wasn't road related.
Over four hundred men and women spent nearly thirteen months setting steel and pouring concrete. It wasn't particularly fancy, if anything the whole effort looked a bit ramshackle, but it had a charm to it. It fit Brockton Bay in an odd way.
If he needed to put words to it, Danny would call it a 'make do' attitude.
He found his way to the next elevator and stepped inside. The law firm on the twenty-third floor, Flecker-Harper-Dallon, handled all of Taylor's contract needs. They were technically the only law firm in the city that did contract law and partnered someone specialized in parahuman law. She didn't exactly have a lot of choices.
Danny worried about how Taylor would pay for it but Mrs. Yashima was being very generous. The company wanted Taylor's business and was willing to give her enough money to hire proper lawyers as a down payment. Sixteen and already making her first multi-million dollar deal. Danny would be sitting proud if not for all the complications.
The zeros involved technically made his daughter management, but Danny considered that more of an amusement than a real problem.
He expected more money soon if the PRT came through on the settlement Taylor negotiated before the lawsuit even began. Danny wondered if they'd renege on that now. Blue Cosmos clearly had its own plans and Taylor's efforts turned out to be long and fruitless. He guessed they wouldn't. Screwing Taylor over now would only make the lawsuit worse. It made no sense not to settle with her when she offered to take whatever they offered.
Some losing hands cost less than others.
Danny stepped out of the second elevator and started to turn toward the law offices.
"Dad." He stopped and turned.
Taylor rose from a bench by the wall with a hood over her head. She rarely wore those anymore. She wore nice shirts and slacks, occasionally a tie or a jacket. Since the Butcher, she wore a sleeveless version of her bulletproof costume beneath those. The appearance made her seem professional, and she looked more like Annette than ever.
Of course, she lost her hair. A whole gaggle of women tried to salvage it over the weekend before Taylor declared it a lost cause and cut her hair down to something almost boyish in length. She wasn't happy about that.
"This way." She walked in the direction opposite the law office.
He followed quietly, not entirely sure where the office they were going to was.
Following his daughter had become a difficult to reconcile exercise. Some might call the feeling emasculation. There was a bit of that to it, he thought. He was her father. It shouldn't be her leading him around.
That's the routine they'd fallen into the past few months though and for that too Danny couldn't blame Taylor. He'd failed to protect her after Annette died, and she'd done what anyone would do; she started protecting herself. He responded to that poorly and she didn't trust him, her trust already shaky after two years of neglect.
Which was why they were here, he supposed.
Taylor raised one hand to her head and rubbed at her temple.
"Headache still?" It had been a week.
"Just a small one," she huffed.
Annette's mother got bad migraines from time to time, but Annette never suffered from it.
She led him to the stairwell and up two flights. The silence felt wrong but Danny again found himself struggling to find the words. He didn't want to make things worse, but he also hated how they were.
So yes, emasculated did fit his mood a bit, and while he didn't think he was so caught up in himself that he considered that some grave and terminal failure, Danny found himself uncomfortably helpless. Like a drowning man in the ocean waiting for fate to save or kill him. A bit dramatic, but life is such. He just didn't know how to talk to her anymore, and that seemed to go both ways.
Ironic.
He thought of the speech she'd given, which was still being played in bits and pieces on the news. She sounded a bit like Lustrum at points and he wondered if that had somehow passed to Taylor from Annette. Quoting Sam Stansfield was something he didn't expect either, and surprises tended to be what made a speech memorable. Taylor could talk when she wanted to, and she talked well.
Just not with him.
Taylor led them to a plain and uninteresting door in the middle of a mostly barren hall. The big office building had a lot of empty space. Business had been dying in Brockton Bay for years and while lately Danny saw the Docks returning to life, that was mostly smaller and more local business. Real small business, not multi-millionaires with only a handful of employees. Though, the city would need more of the latter to fully return to life.
Beyond the door lay a small waiting room with a few chairs on either side of the wall. One door led to a bathroom and the other to an office.
A woman rose inside from a seat and smiled. "Taylor and Danny, right?"
"That's us."
Danny glanced at Taylor and he noticed for the first time how uncomfortable she was.
She always switched to being Newtype when she didn't feel safe.
Straight back, eyes forward and focused. It disturbed him how easily and quickly she could shift between those personas. More so because he honestly didn't recognize the old Taylor in either of them. He refused to think of it as 'his Taylor' because she was still and always would be his Taylor. It was still hard seeing so little in her he recognized, while still seeing how much of her hadn't really changed.
She still looked so uncomfortable, despite the session being her idea. Not a pleasant reminder of his last attempt to help. Annette would know how to handle that. She always knew how to be her best self for Taylor. Sad to say, being a father had never been his strong suit even before he spent two years not even trying.
The woman stepped forward and held her hand out. "Amy Dylandy. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She was a pretty woman, mid-to-early twenties with long brown hair, sharp features, and an attire right up Taylor's newfound alley.
"Right this way," she said. "I cleared my schedule an hour before and after your appointment. Figured we might as well do our best to maintain some privacy."
The room beyond the next door looked comforting. An office, with several bookshelves, some plants, and three big seats. One faced the door, while the other two faced the window.
"No one can see through the glass," Amy said. "I got that treated after New Wave started dropping by."
New Wave? "You're a friend of Carol Dallon?"
"Friend is a stretch." Amy took the seat facing the door and motioned Danny and Taylor to the other two. "Without being too in breach of professional ethics, I'll just say the family and I know each other. Have for a few years."
"Vicky said they started seeing you after Fleur got shot," Taylor said.
"Not all at once," Amy said with a smile. "And I've never quite managed to get Carol to sit down. I guess you could say I'm a friend of the family."
Taylor nodded and looked around the room. "Are you related to a detective?"
"Two actually, though Neil likes to pretend he's semi-retired. You've met them?"
"Lyle," Taylor said. "I remember his name from a drug bust."
"That's probably him. I warn you, he's taken." Taylor grimaced and Amy laughed. "I'm just kidding."
Danny moved toward his seat, but took a moment to glance at some of the books around the room. One stood out; DSMV. He stared at the book, finding it a strange thing. He'd never been to therapy. Looking back, maybe he should have after Annette died. Perhaps a little help would have set things down a completely different course.
He never had anything against therapy. It was like a doctor's visit or a trip to the dentist, but for your mental state. The world can be stressful. Sometimes it can be too much, even for the toughest of tough types. Sometimes especially for them, something Danny knew very well from years with the Dockworkers.
He didn't want things to keep going as they were.
Somehow, that didn't make his skin crawl less. Nervousness, maybe. If this didn't go well, what then? Would Taylor just leave and never come back? Would she storm out if he said something stupid? Talking to her could be a small minefield in itself.
"You can stand if that makes you more comfortable," Amy offered. "I'm not picky."
Danny did take a seat, casting his eyes toward his daughter. "Do you work with capes often, Ms. Dylandy?"
"Not particularly," she said. "My primary employment is with the BBPD and the PRT, but I talk to duty staff, not capes. Work stress mostly. Everyone needs someone to vent to at the end of the day. Pretty sure New Wave drops by mostly because I'm in the building register and Sarah happened to notice."
Sarah—Ah. Sarah Pelham. Lady Photon.
"I can recommend you to someone more specialized if that's something you want, but most of those in my line of work who specialize in capes work directly for the PRT in some capacity. My brief conversation with Taylor implied that she preferred not to go to anyone affiliated with the Response Team for this."
"Yes," Taylor said bluntly.
Amy smiled. "Do you want to talk about why?"
Taylor stiffened.
Danny knew the answer, but it didn't seem wise to speak for her.
"I—" Taylor glanced to Danny and then away. She fidgeted for a moment, in a way she often did before everything changed. "I don't trust the PRT."
Given what she suspected about the PRT's real leadership, it was no surprise. She wouldn't want to hand potential enemies ammunition to use against her later.
"Why not?" Amy asked.
"Because…" She trailed off, her shoulders tense and her hands tight. That was different. Not nervous or uncomfortable. It seemed more fearful, but why would she be afraid? "You know what trigger events are?" Amy nodded. "You've seen the news, right?"
Amy nodded again, but said, "I think it's best to let people have their own say."
Taylor turned her jaw. She inhaled, and after a few false steps said, "A Ward caused mine, because the PRT couldn't be bothered to keep an eye on an absolute psychopath. I don't want to go to them for anything about this."
Or that? Was she obfuscating? She'd tried to avoid dragging in anyone she could keep out. She never told Trevor about the PRT's secret cabal, and Danny suspected she still kept things from him.
She tried to protect people at her own expense far too easily.
"I won't ask for details," Amy said. "I know those moments are very difficult for capes to talk about and you're probably disinterested in the fascinating academics surrounding the topic. I can understand that. The PRT are supposed to be the responsible heroes. They're not corporate teams trying to turn profits or reckless vigilantes pursuing justice at all costs. They failed and it changed your life."
Taylor nodded.
"There's nothing wrong with feeling that way," Amy continued. "What's important is balancing yourself and not letting things swing into negatively impacting your life. I have watched the news since you first appeared. There have been times it seems like you hate the PRT."
"Sometimes."
"You still work with them?"
"It's not really something I can avoid." Taylor frowned, then added, "And they're not all bad."
"It sounds like you've managed to come to terms with your trigger event a bit better than some capes. You should be proud of that, Taylor. Which isn't to say you wouldn't benefit from talking about it further, but I think for the moment it's something we can set aside. Trust is very important in therapy, and while you're here and willing to talk I think we can both agree it's more you stepping out on an uncomfortable limb than trusting me."
Taylor looked a little surprised by that last sentence. "Yeah…"
Was that good? Asking her about the PRT seemed to diffuse Taylor's tension somewhat. She was still defensive and uncomfortable in her seat, but not afraid.
Danny took a moment to appreciate that.
He regretted how he tried to get Taylor to talk to a professional before. He'd regretted it long before Charles drove her home and she told him she'd resent him for the rest of her life for what he did. Part of him liked to hope that wasn't true anymore but he knew it was.
She resented him still. Things weren't the same though. They'd never really been the same since Annette died and had gone down hill progressively ever since. They'd probably never be the same.
"Do you prefer Danny or Mr. Hebert?"
Danny looked away from his daughter, shifting attention to Amy. "Oh, Danny is fine."
"Mr. Hebert was your father?" she asked.
He smiled weakly. "I think dad jokes are more my territory."
The woman gave him a small laugh. "Why are you here Danny?"
He paused, rolling those words about in his mind. "Because I don't want things to stay like they are."
"How are they?"
He glanced at Taylor nervously. She wasn't looking at either of them, her eyes set on something outside the window.
"We don't talk," Danny said. "And when we do it's about work or… It's awkward."
"Is there a reason for that?"
Danny grimaced, and Taylor spoke up. "He tried to surprise me with therapy."
Danny felt himself shrink slightly. Not his proudest moment.
Amy didn't react. She maintained a warm and approachable smile, hands folded in front of her. "Is there a reason you did that, Danny?"
Yes.
He didn't think she was crazy, but he did worry. He worried she was too reckless with her life. That she took risks simply for the sake of taking risks. He worried because Veda had all but confirmed to him months ago what he feared.
Taylor wanted to die.
Not in a bathtub or a closet or in an overdose. Nothing like that and he didn't think Taylor really realized it about herself. She wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, like a hero.
He felt responsible for that. He ignored her when she needed him most. He didn't even notice when Emma stopped being her friend and left her all alone to be ignored by every adult who should have protected her. It made a sort of twisted sense, and maybe that said something about him. Lord knew he'd considered it more than once right after Annette passed, bottle after bottle.
The world ignored her in her worst moments, and now she took every chance to be as impossible to ignore as possible.
He couldn't stop her from being a hero. He acknowledged that. Surely he could do more to keep her alive than just mope about what he knew. She'd almost died last week when her own sword went right through her chest.
That was the most pathetic thing of all.
His daughter—some part of her at least—wanted to die, almost did, and he still didn't do anything about it. Not couldn't. Didn't. Did. Not.
"Danny?" Amy gave him a slightly concerned look as the silence drew out.
"I'm not a very good father," he admitted. "I wasn't there when Taylor needed me, more than once. The one time I stepped up and really tried to be proactive I made a mistake."
Amy nodded, asking, "If I may ask, what was the context?"
"It was right after that thing with the Merchants, early in the summer?" Danny thought and said, "With the big tank."
"Ah. That. I remember."
"I became worried after it was over and I asked one of the PRT's doctors to talk to her. Dr. Yamada."
"I know of her," Amy said. "She's very good. Probably the foremost expert there is on parahuman psychology. I think she would have warned you that springing therapy on someone isn't advisable. It can backfire horribly."
Danny smiled, but it wasn't happy. "She did. Taylor didn't come home that night."
"I stayed with a friend," Taylor said. Danny appreciated that, and that Charles and Mary were the kind of adults who would support her rather than turn her away. Those were the adults Taylor had lacked for too long. "We had a fight when I went home."
Amy looked between them. "And this struggle to communicate. You've both experienced it ever since the attempted therapy with Dr. Yamada? Months ago?"
"Yes," they both said.
Amy nodded and reached for her pocket. She produced a phone and started tapping at the screen.
"Are you calling someone?" Taylor asked.
"I'm just rescheduling a few things. We're going to need more time to get this ball rolling."
