3.3

I was in Arcadia's cafeteria. I was with Chris. Carlos and the others too.

I…

Is this a dream?

Strange...aren't you supposed to wake up when you recognize you're in a dream?

We seemed to be having a good time. But...I don't remember getting here...What was the last thing I did?

I heard whispering and hushed voices and I saw my friends look up. Their faces are...strange. I turn back around to see what the deal was.

It was Victoria walking alone and holding her backpack as she was rushing through the cafeteria at a brisk pace. I stand up but felt an arm grip my own, pulling me back down. I look and see Aisha.

"Don't Tay." She hissed.

"Killing a normal." Said a voice I didn't recognize. I looked around, searching. I don't find it. Don't see anyone speaking. They just...stare.

"Just because the guy was a Nazi doesn't mean a parahuman can get away with that!"

"They tried to cover it up too. Just as bad.."

I blinked, the voices hammering away at my senses as I try to focus. I looked at Victoria. She's stopped in the middle of the cafeteria, beneath all of these accusing eyes.

"She's a loose cannon."

"Glad she got taken down to size."

I stood up again, and this time I pulled free of the hand that tried to hold me back.

I tried to trudge through the faceless crowd. Trying to get to the retreating Victoria, now dressed in jeans and a jacket, her hair is uncombed.

I reach forward

My hand brushes her shoulder.

Then she's not there. She's not there and the eyes are on me now.

And I'm the one they're glaring at now, the one standing isolated in the center of the room.

'Look at her. Can't control herself. Should have seen that on her first day.'

'She burned down the whole school. Nearly killed all the students. Probably wanted to kill them.'

'Psycho Carrie Bitch.'

'Tore off a womans arm. What would she have done to some normal causing too much trouble?'

I shook. My hands had risen up to my head, gripping at my hair. 'Its just a dream...its just a dream.' I hissed, shaking my head. 'Its not real...I just have to wake up.'

I tugged at my hair, feeling no pain.

Its just a dream...Its not real...I just have to wake up...its just a dream.

'Let me go. Let me go!'

Its just a dream!

"What's wrong Taylor?"

My eyes snapped open and right there, right in front of me was Emma. Smiling that little grin of hers. That little...goddamn smile that just told me she just wasn't done quite yet.

Then my hand was wreathed in flame.

And my whole world was on fire as they all screamed as they burned. The smell of burning flesh hit me. Their skin blackened and charred.

Ash danced around me.

And then I felt her grip on my hand. Tugging me free of this place, the flames dying.

Then it was quiet and there was...dark…

Peace.

Dulcet laughter as beautiful as it was reassuring. I felt her arms coil around me, a warmth spreading across my thoughts. The fear, the pain, the anger. It all...melted away.

I looked up. But her face was hidden in shadow...I could see nothing but her smile…

It was…

I hugged her tight.

"Mom?"

Her hand caressed my cheek...

(X)

I awoke with a start and a gasp, still in bed and sweating. I stared up at the ceiling. My old ceiling with chipped, off color white paint.

I'm panting, eyes going this way and that way before I finally felt myself calm down. My heart was thundering in my chest.

"Just a dream." I muttered sitting up swiveling around so my feet touched the ground. "Just a...really weird dream…"

I sat there for a while before I finally pushed myself onto my feet and went to the bathroom. I washed my face. And gripped at the sink. Half feeling like I wanna throw up.

I stay there for minutes. Quiet. Thinking. That dream was...but so vivid I could almost feel mom's arms around me like they were actually there…

I could still smell burning flesh in my nostrils...

I shook my head. Opened the bathroom door and looked across the hallway to the clock we had hanging on the wall.

I blinked. It was a little later than my usual wake up time actually.

I closed the door opened up the faucet and washed my face again trying to wash away the sleep as much as the strangeness of the dream itself.

I got out, went back to my room and picked out some clothes to shower. Now that I was a bit more aware of myself, I could hear Dad down in the kitchen making breakfast.

When I'm finally ready to head down, Dad is scraping some eggs out of the skillet with the spatula.

"Morning Taylor." He greets, not looking away from his task.

"Morning dad." I shifted from foot to foot. "Dad. I'd rather not go to school today."

He turns from his cooking, looking at me. "I think I know the reason but I wouldn't mind hearing it."

I took a breath. "I want a clear head to decide this. I want to know what I'm doing is right either way. I don't want Vicky trying to convince me again, or us ending up arguing to throw me on one decision or another. I want to decide, not jump into something I'll end up regretting and I don't think I can do that if I go to school today.

Danny sighed. Then he nodded. "Alright...I get it. But Taylor. This is just for today. If you don't decide today then you are going to class tomorrow come hell shit or high waters okay?"

I nodded. That was fair.

He turned back to his cooking. "Well. Now that our pressing need to be early for your classes is over with I can make something a little better than sunny side up eggs."

I laughed. "Like what?"

Dad smirked. "I remember its been a while since someone had those blue-berry pancakes that they like so much."

"Don't you have work?" I asked, smiling at the back of his head.

"I've been clocking so many overtime hours out of boredom without you kiddo that they'd still owe me money if I missed a whole week."

"Its good to be the boss huh?" I laughed.

"Damn right."

(X)

We got into the car over an hour late and he began driving.

It was quiet really. It wasn't...awkward per-se. But we could both notice that there was a subject we were choosing to ignore. Me still contemplating what to do. Him allowing me to do so.

Either way by the time I got back to PRT HQ I'd decide one way or another.

I barely even recognized when my dad started talking. "-adio says an accident on the 95. We'll need to make a detour unless you wanna be stuck in traffic for an hour..." His eyes went up, trying to think of the different ways he could make it to the PRT HQ from here.

I smiled "There's an app for that." I got my phone out and began looking on my Sig-Alert app. I almost reeled as I saw some heavy traffic a couple of intersections up ahead.

"Hey dad, we can get to the 103 if we cut through Concord Heights. Intersection on the other side is clear. We can also go through Vess road but its estimating ten more minutes driving time."

"You know I remember when we had intuition and deduction to figure things out. We can take the thirty eight. Its early so most of the businesses there are still closed." He chuckled.

"Thirty eight has twenty more minutes." I smiled.

"That phone's just plain old wrong." I noticed he did take the road to go to Concord Heights regardless.

Few minutes later we were at the nice part of town. It was hilly and there was climbs and drops, but still, lots of great houses to look at.

My phone began to ring and I looked down, it was from "Unknown"

I picked up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Yes would this be the correct line to call about chimney cleaning services?"

I cringed. Honestly. I get that they have to use code-words to avoid someone else picking up the phone and the guy on the other side just blabbing out more information than what would be prudent. "Ashburn this is an emergency Lung is burning down the-oh wait...you're not Ashburn...I'm so getting fired for this."

But still Carlos' job was "Personal Trainer" Kid Win was "Computer repair". Vista had bloody Photography. And I have cleaning chimneys? Does anyone even have chimneys in Brockton bay?

Still. Time and place. "It is" I answered.

"Ashburn, there's a situation. Bay Central Bank is being held up. Undersider Gang." I perked up. The Undersiders are robbing a bank?

The operator kept talking before I could get a word in edgewise. "There's a quick response truck already en route to your location. ETA is three minutes. We need you to stop there and get in when they arrive. All Wards are being called in for would have brought you out of your classes too but you're not present in Arcadia."

I ignored the accusation, choosing to focus on what didn't make sense to me right now. "All the Wards? What about the Protectorate?"

"All Protectorate personnel are currently out of the Bay"

Out of the Ba- Oh crap. That thing was today of all days?

The Undersiders have an absolutely fabulous sense of timing. Or there's a mole somewhere in the PRT…

Something to bring up later, for now I nod, then nearly slap myself for doing that over the phone. "Right we'll be waiting on your arrival" I hang up.

"Three minutes." The man repeats.

Dad was looking at me. "What's up kiddo?"

"Dad we need to-Stop the car!"

Dad's foot slams on the break at the sound of my voice, tires squealing, the seatbelt digs into my shoulder and chest as I lurch forward, almost hitting the dashboard with my face before I jerk back into my seat.

I hear a thud against the hood and feel my heart drop. Dad hit someone!

My eyes snap upwards, and I realize, no, Dad didn't hit someone. The person is hitting the hood with their hands.

It's a little girl.

"Help me!" She screams. Tears are streaming down her face. She's still wearing her school uniform.

She rounds the car and Dad is still getting his bearings when she yanks open the car door beside him, crying, grabbing onto his jacket and Dad just grabs her, as confused as I am when the girl starts muttering. "Eighty-seven point three percent chance. Eighty-seven point three percent chance!"

Dad's hands seem like they don't know what to do with themselves, stuck between grabbing at the distraught girl and gripping the steering wheel for dear life. "Ok, Ok what's-"

There's a sound, I don't rightly recognize it, but the next thing I know the front windshield is shattering over us and a wave of heat hits me with the shards of glass.

Dad's hands finally find what to do with themselves as they grab the girl and pull her into the car across his lap, draping himself over her.

I look up where I've ducked down, and I find eleven men in what looks like Tinker-tech gear circling us…

I'm about to tell Dad to put his foot on the gas when I notice that our hood currently had a hole melted straight through it, about the size of a fist.

Guess we're not going anywhere…I unclick my seat-belt.

I need ash...something to burn.

"Secure the package." I heard one say in a tech-scrambled voice. I wouldn't have been able to tell which had he not moved his hand and one of his men stepped forward to do as asked.

"Eighty-seven point three percent...Eighty-seven point three-" The girl kept muttering to herself, shaking like a leaf in Dad's arms. Dad himself was looking around now, like a deer caught in a couple dozen headlights. His head whipped to and fro, taking in the whole scenery.

One of the men stepped forward, circling around the still open car door. He reached in towards the girl and grabbing her by the back of the school uniform.

Dad finally seemed to catch onto what was happening.

My dad cocked back his foot, then kicked the armored soldier in the face.

The merc reeled back and the rifle he'd swiveled around onto his shoulder on its strap was once more in his hand, pointing at my dad as he grabs at his ankle and half pulls him out of the car.

He's pointing a rifle...at my dad!

I don't know if he's going to shoot, I don't wait long enough to find out one way or the other.

My hand rises, over my father and the crying girl, and then there's a stream of bright, impossibly hot fire streaking out of my fingertips towards him.

I catch what must be surprise behind the lens of his visor as he tries to dive away.

Its a second too late.

The flames hit him, the force of the attack pushes him back and the next second I hear him screaming as he writhes on the floor

Its a horrible scream.

It doesn't take long, perhaps three to five seconds for him to go still.

It was the longest five seconds of my life.

There's crackle of voices over radios and helmets, surprised, angry.

"Shit!"

"Cape!"

"Take her down! Center mass!"

I'm lucky the dead guy pulled Dad a little out of the car. I could never do this otherwise.

With a thought, all my clothes, the seat directly beneath me, and the carpeting on the floor the plastic and foam of the car door and armrest on either side of me are all on fire.

Rifles come alive with clacks, snaps and whines of charged tinker tech power cells.

I don't have enough ash. Not nearly enough. I haven't burned enough!

I use the lever at the side of the seat to lower the back, now I'm laying down, my hand grips the back seat, lighting it up and then drifting down to the floor to set the whole thing on fire.

Then they start shooting.

I dive into the floor of the back seat, using the flames now swallowing the car to cover my movements, leave them shooting at the empty front seat.

Then my mind goes blank with pain as I feel what must be a jagged wire lance up my calf, shooting from my leg up my spine and straight down again to my foot with raw burning agony.

I bite down on my tongue to keep from screaming and giving myself away.

I've just been shot!

Dad is shouting my name, only his side of the car is still 'intact' but that's changing fast, he's gotten out of the car, the little girl is screaming.

I lay there for a second, breathing fast as I try to gather my wits, try to remember where they were standing, how far dad is from them.

A thought comes to my head. The Car is probably gonna blow up soon.

The fires burn, they're raging hot, I can barely draw a breath, the fire's just eating up the oxygen.

I make it burn hotter, eat up their fuel faster burn it all into ash and cinders.

At that point I discover with my power, something's already been consumed, there's more ash than what's in the car.

I realize it's the man I burned.

I don't care, I pull his remains towards me with a thought, hear the snaps and cracks of bone fragments and clinks of tinker metal and tech splinters getting dragged across the ground as the ash slips into the car to join the rest I'm creating around me right now.

I can't wait anymore. My lungs are burning with an entirely different fire. I gather the ash around my torso, my arms and legs. As much as I have. More of it every second. My head is bare, most of my back as well.

I stand as best I can in the back seat, and my eyes see the silhouettes through the fire, standing in front of the car and beside it.

I grip the front seats and lunge.

I can only imagine what I must have looked like to them, raw brute strength making me explode out of the flaming wreck of my Dad's car, clawed fingertips lancing into Tinker tech armor to cut into the Merc's shoulder while my other hand crunches and cracks his helmet metal helmet. He's trying to shoot me with his tinker tech gun, but its too long. I'm too close.. He gets off three shots somewhere behind me before I bring him down to the ground. His cry of alarm is abruptly and brutally cut off as my hand smashes the back of his head down into the pavement.

I look to my left, to where Dad is still holding the girl

"Run!"

Dad is looking at me, shaking his head, refusing as he clutches at the little girl.

A bullet slams into my elbow, the paper thin layer of ash makes it feel like a sledgehammer rather than a paintball shot like it normally did.

I turn and I drag my victim with the movement, placing him between myself and his team members to the right of me.

They're shouting now, a half dozen voices all screaming over each other. I feel warm blood trickling down my leg. Whatever adrenaline I had couldn't fully block out the pain now that I'm putting my full weight on it and I don't have enough ash to form one of my statues.

I see more of them, circling around the car, moving to get behind me where I don't have any ash to protect me.

I look at the man in my grasp.

I feel nothing as I burn him with my flames, armor and flesh coming apart beneath my fingers in seconds, the remains gathering over my skin to become another piece of my armor.

Then I feel like I'm hit by a freight train.

It takes me a second to realize I've been knocked on my ass, that I can't breathe; that my chest and lungs must be wrapped in barbed wire because it just hurts that bad.

I struggle to stand, hearing the girl screaming, and my Dad struggling.

Dad…

I get my hands under me just managing to get up onto my hands and knees when my arm feels like its just snapped in two and I'm falling flat on my face again.

"The hell is that thing!"

"Shoot it!"

Like a warm salve I can feel the warmth flowing through my limbs, the pain ebbs and melts away.

I move to stand, and whatever hit me before hits me again, the top of my shoulder this time, the blow shoves me back on my ass and I hear the clink of a bullet hitting the ground a second before I see it.

Sniper. They've been shooting me with a sniper!

I finally bring my eyes up, the men are retreating, the girl is with them, Dad's on the ground, bleeding…

He's not moving.

Dad isn't moving.

Those men…

My father…

My father is not moving!

Its a insidious whisper through my mind, a swell of some...vile, twisted madness burning through my thoughts to swallow everything as I stare at my father who is not moving!

I shake my head crying as I stumble onto my feet, running towards him. "No no...nononono!

His glasses are broken, there's a hole in his chest the healing aurora should work. It should work The wound should be closing!

No no no no nononononononononononono!

"We've got the package. Returning to base."

My eyes snap up, and later, I can only imagine the expression that must have crossed my face as my eyes find the backs of the retreating soldiers.

I hear her voice again then...mom's voice…a loving, soft whisper I can't help but be aware of...

I listen...

(X)

Coil snapped the timeline closed, eyes wide in mild alarm at the sheer destruction had just been unleashed on the center of Brockton Bay. "Unbelievable…" He muttered in alarm. He was not...expecting that.

Miss Hebert had, evidently, been holding far more back than what he or even the Protectorate gave her credit for.

His men had seen that first hand. They'd certainly had plenty of time to scream.

Sir, your order?

His men were still standing by, in this reality waiting on the fringes of the street, still out of sight from the occupants of the car as Dinah cried into Daniel Hebert's chest, screaming about her visions, the numbers, about the men coming after her as the Heberts sat there, trying to calm her hysterics.

He could try to go for it. Could order his men to refrain from trying to kill the Heberts this time...to not kill the father as they had.

But no. Not worth it at the moment. This was a cape in her civilian identity, he risked too much if he tried to breach the rules. Even from his own hired help. The Undersiders, Faultline. New Wave alone would make it their mission to hunt him down. The situation would remind them too much of Fleur, that's not to mention the PRT response. With a full investigation and perhaps the villains looking into it as well due to a breach of the unspoken rules, it wouldn't take long for the link of the mercenaries here and his own forces, which mostly consisted of mercenaries, to be drawn to him.

He pressed the button so his men can hear him. "Fall back captain. Miss Alcott will be headed to the Protectorate. For now at least."

Understood. Package unsecured. Returning to base.

Coil rested his chin on top of his interlaced fingers, scowling at his computer as he let out a sigh through his nose. Tattletale and the Undersiders had held up their end and were already escaping with the money. They'll be getting a paycheck for a diversion that was ultimately successful but bore no fruit.

A setback...but a minor one. Infact, this just may have laid out the most effective use he could soon give Miss Hebert.

He picked up the phone.