Interlude: Daniel Hebert
The computer screen was bright white, almost glaring at him as his eyes panned over the words.
"So what would be the best case scenario in that situation?"
He adjusted the phone on his neck, keeping it tight between his shoulder and cheek as his fingers moved over the keyboard to type in another name.
"Alright. I see. Thank you for the help. Can I call this number again? I see. Thank you." He settled the phone back on the receiver.
Two months since Taylor joined the Wards and Danny was becoming something of a PHO freak. He still didn't have an account to post; but he was reading up on every known cape in Brockton Bay.
Truly, an exercise in self flagellation if ever there was one.
Sure everyone knew about the famous two. Kaiser and Lung. The former, naturally brought with him some familiarity with his bodyguards, Fenja and Menja.
But that said nothing about everyone else.
Hookwolf had a seventy-three page long record of crimes. And those were only the confirmed crimes. Oni-Lee was a known lunatic. That's not even going into Night or Fog or this new rumored Tinker; Bakuda.
A tinker bomb maker? Really? As if the gang's weren't already packing enough stuff to wage a small war.
Two months and he was all but turning himself into a nervous wreck. Sure they said Wards rarely fought but two months and she'd already gotten in two fights.
As far as he was concerned that was two fights too many.
She never told him about the specifics for all that he asked. So that, naturally left his mind to do what it does best:
Namely kill him with worry by thinking up the worst possible scenarios.
By the time he was done she'd gone and fought the entirety of E88 plus Lung in that first patrol with no back-up, with three hours sleep while wearing nothing but some spandex while her powers were failing.
These were the helpful thoughts of Daniel Hebert...
Did he regret putting her in the Wards?
That answer was twofold. The first being of course: Fuck. Yes. She wasn't living with him anymore. His little girl was out in the middle of the night fighting the worst thugs this city had to offer. Off in a strange apartment with boys. With people maybe a hundred times more powerful, at the very least more experienced, gunning for her. Sleeping somewhere other than beneath his roof where he could watch out for her. Any one night he could wake up to a phone call or worse a knock on his door.
It'd be worse because then there'd be the very real possibility of him going to jail for killing the messenger-as a start.
And she wasn't living with him anymore.
The second of course being a very resounding; No.
Parahumans, he'd learned rather quickly, needed to use their powers. It was almost taken as a scientific truth. If someone got powers and didn't use them then they were bound to just snap eventually. Many people theorised such a thing had happened to Nilbog. Taylors power was fire and ash. Her abilities were centered towards combat. Removing her from the wards would just push her to the path of the vigilante, or worse, villainy.
He wasn't the best father in the world but neither was he that obtuse.
More importantly though Taylor was happy. Happier than he could remember her being in a long long time. She was out of Winslow, making friends, smiling again. When he'd last seen her he realized just how long it'd been since he'd seen his own daughter smile. (Which just sent him into all kinds of knots of further self flagellation.) She was getting training, a career, people that supported her and her long time dream of being a hero coming true for her.
She was happy and that was enough to make him happy for her.
That didn't stop him from dipping into his bank account to buy a computer and internet connection for his house to keep himself appraised as much as possible. Or buying a cellphone plan which he never thought he'd do for a wide variety of reasons. To hell with the damn bills. If Taylor had to call him she'd find him while he was on the moon as far as he was concerned.
Another locker wasn't going to happen. She was not going to be trapped, literally or figuratively, unable to call him for help.
It also didn't stop him from reading up laws and old cases. Or making a few phone calls to recommended attorneys. Incase she ever decided she wanted to leave the Wards.
The door to his office opened and he looked up, over the computer screen.
"Danny?"
He blinked, bringing his glasses back to his eyes to look at the owner of the voice he recognized. "Jim?" He blinked.
"What're ya doin here Danny?" The older, overweight man looked at his wrist watch. "Its Sunday. Its been three hours since your shift ended. I mean, I get doing extra overtime, but ain't this like, the fourth day you've been clockin' it?"
Danny blinked then turned his head up and to the left towards the wall clock.
8:22 pm...
Oh…
"Sorry. I just got caught up." He quickly shut down the computer before he tried to read "Just one more article"
"Honestly that thing is gonna end up eating your eyes. I've been tellin ya this for years but you don't listen and just keep leaning in and buying thicker glasses.
He chuckled. "Guess we all have our stubborn side." He grabbed his jacket off the wall and began making his way out of the office. Passing Jim by, he placed a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the older man's grousing and half lecture about getting enough sleep.
He made it outside to the cool night air. Getting into his car, he started thinking about the two or three stops he had to make before heading home.
Scratch that. One stop. Sunday, eight oclock. Other two places are closed. He'd have to head to the convenience store to at least get some eggs, milk, and bread for his breakfast tomorrow morning. He never could start his day without a hardboiled egg.
Starting up the car, he backed up, driving out of the lot and beginning the fourty minute drive home.
Around ten minutes later he was pulling into the convenience store. He got off, finding the E88 gang colors spray painted on a building across the street.
The bell chimed as he walked in, he saw the usual clerk reading a magazine now. Big Black guy, heavy set.
He's been coming to this store for last minute, late night purchases for almost twenty years. Doesn't know the guys name. He probably doesn't know his either, though they recognize each other he's sure.
He marches through the chest high aisles. Quickly finding the most important purchase on his personal list; the eggs, and then picking out the bread. He hates how bread expires so quickly. A week at best. One loaf of bread per week is too much for one person. Taylor always liked toast in the morning.
He marches over towards the refrigerators, grabbing a litre of milk and, after a moment's thought, decided to grab some of those cold coffees to stick in his refrigerator and try out tomorrow morning.
He gets to the clerk, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet when he hears the door chime again.
He looks. Years of living in Brockton bay have given him a healthy respect for looking at the people that walk into a room, especially at this hour. In this city thirty percent of the population, or near enough had open gang affiliations. And almost 100% of people knew at least one gang member even if they never participated.
To his surprise though, he recognized the person walking in right now.
She wasn't a gang member.
"Miss Washington?"
She blinked, looking at him as the door closed behind her. "Mr. Hebert?" She smiled. "Huh. Small world I suppose."
"I guess so." He said. "What're you doing here?"
"Same as you it seems. Just picking up a few things before I head back to my apartment." She answered as she marched through the aisle to pick up some items.
"Ahh." He nodded. "How's Taylor doing?"
He was embarrassed. First thing out of his mouth and it goes straight to Taylor, her work. She probably got questions like that all the time from the parents of the other Wards.
Still, his fears seem to be unfounded. She smiled and it seemed genuine to his untrained eye. "You got yourself a hell of a girl there Mr. Hebert."
Despite himself, Danny felt his chest puff up with pride. "What makes you say that."
"She's a fantastic Ward so far. Fairly smart for her age, always wanting to help. She interacts well with the other wards and is always trying to improve herself. Did you know she asked Miss Militia for hand to hand combat training?"
"No. She hadn't told me." He admitted.
"Right after the fight near downtown a few weeks ago. You remember it was on the news?"
"Yeah. Taylor said she was there? Did she fight?"
"A bit." Hannah said. She was looking at the expiration date on the bread. Danny had the distinct impression she was doing it more to avoid his gaze than anything.
She looked up smirking. "Don't take it personally that she didn't tell you. Everyone was to stay fairly tight lipped at the office. Miss Militia wouldn't even have been able to tell me with the difference in rank." The smile on her face was strange. "Specifics are strict need to know."
"I see." He said. Clearing his throat he spoke again. "So. You live near here?" He found himself asking.
She nodded, gesturing with one hand "Down the block."
His eyes widened. "You live in E88 territory?" He was hoping she'd say ten blocks in the other direction. ABB territory.
She smirked "Mr. Hebert, this is Brockton Bay. We're all living in either E88, or ABB territory." Her smile became mischievous. "At least its not Merchant grounds. Don't think I could take the smell."
Not the point at all. E88 gave minorities a hard time. A very hard time. There were still news reports every once in a blue moon of the E88 invading someone's home and beating them half to death or worse. He remembered just a year ago four E88 members had been arrested when they killed an interracial couple in their home. Their kid had hid and was the only person able to ID them.
"That's not...I...if you ever need any help or anything- I live about twenty or thirty minutes from here."
She hiked up her eyebrow, the smile tugging a little more. "I'd need you to actually give me your number for that Mr. Hebert."
He blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Its 387-4282."
She nodded a chuckle in her voice. "I'll be sure to make use of it. You'll be sick of me soon enough." She held up her items. "Hey Mark, put this on my tab, I get my check tomorrow."
Mark (so that was his name) nodded.
Hannah waved at him before marching out, numbly Danny waved back.
"You know." The, now identified 'Mark', began. "The other half of the equation is; You get her number too, buddy."
Daniel's mind came to a sudden, screeching crash.
Wait. What?
"C-Come again?" Danny asked as he looked at the heavy set man.
"Did I stutter? You should have asked for her number. Girl likes ya." He mentioned, looking down at his sports magazine. Daniel's mouth was open and closing.
"I uhh...I have her card…"
The utterly flat look Mark gave him was answer enough. He rolled his eyes. "Now you gonna pay for that or what?"
"Oh! Yeah." Danny went into his wallet and paid for his groceries. "By the way be careful. 'Cross the street there was-"
"I saw the sign. Don't worry, Hannah gave me a first response alert." He tapped under the counter. "And I'm packing." He reached down and pulled what looks like the barrel of a shotgun.
"Well. Good for you. Night!" Danny gave him a thumbs up and walked out of the store. He heard a mumbled "Night" back as he walked to his car.
As he started the engine and began his drive home, the question nagged at his head.
He shook his head. No. No way jose.
"Way outta my league anyway."