Interlude: Daniel Hebert
Daniel Hebert hated that, when it came to the things that were most important in his life, he could fail so completely and utterly.
When men at the dock came to him talking about too few work opportunities, the gangs pressing in, an injury on the job, he could deal with it. He could walk across the docks and and solve the problem with an envious ease brought on by familiarity.
But when it came to his own child…
The list of failures far outweighed the triumphs.
He knew Taylor was a good girl, he knew in his heart that what had happened in the prison wasn't her fault. That she'd never ever willingly kill so many people.
He knew what Master influence could do. What became of Sphere after the Simurgh got into his head was evidence enough alone. Knew that there was little to no chance for someone to resist those hateful powers.
He knew that, no matter how angry or betrayed she may have felt over learning about that Sophia girl that she wouldn't have it in her to maul her so brutally, or hurt Armsmaster, or Kid Win.
He knew all these things…
And yet he was filled with nothing but regrets. Regrets and what ifs.
What if he'd dug deeper into the situations with Madison, Sophia and… and Emma when he… when they were assured they'd be taken to court? What if he'd gotten Taylor to talk to him more about what happened at Winslow? What if he would have stopped her from going to the Prison that night instead of staying here and getting word from a legitimate hero? What if he would have asked to speak with Director Piggot? What if he would have grabbed her before she could run out the door?
What if he'd managed to fight off that bullshit PRT agent faster and go after her?
There were enough regrets in him to fill the graves of the men and women she'd…
...
The first time he'd heard about her being sighted near downtown… he'd been at work… story of his life. And just yesterday when she was spotted at 2:00 AM hitting the Merchants' base he'd been asleep.
He'd been the last fucking person to know both fucking times!
There was a list of injured people. Squealer was in the hospital. Ripped out of one of her monster tank cars.
He wanted to throw his phone against a wall every time he realized that her phone was still here in her room. Every time he found a missed call he felt his hopes rise only to feel them crash into the ground all over again when it was someone else, anyone else that wasn't Taylor.
The one time he'd gotten a call from a number he didn't recognize he called it back twelve times in an hour.
He didn't even know who answered. When it turned out to not be Taylor he shouted into the receiver like a lunatic.
His co-workers didn't know what was wrong. Not exactly. They just thought Taylor was missing. Not that Taylor was missing and had killed more people in a single night than what Brockton Bay could lose to murderers in six months.
Now he was sitting here, watching yet another news report, he'd downed the bottle yesterday… didn't go out to buy another today. Hadn't left the house in two. Too scared she'd come by and he wouldn't be there.
His phone hadn't been more than two feet away from him in three weeks. When he did leave he drove around town. Literally looking city street by city street, block by block for any sign of her until the sun rose up or until he fell asleep at the side of the road.
So here he was, unfortunately sober, going through the motions of life in his house while waiting on a hope and a prayer that his daughter would just come home. Everything else could be dealt with after that. After she was home and safe.
He'd fight the whole goddamn world if he had to after that.
He saw the lights of the car pulling up to his driveway first. The faint growl of the engine reaching him as he paid a bit more attention, followed by the soft crunch of gravel shifting under tires.
He stood up and looked out towards the driveway from the window. PRT car.
His heart wasn't sure if it wanted to skip a beat in his chest or drop down to his stomach.
The door opened and Miss Militia stepped out, marching towards his front porch.
He heard the knock. It took him a second to walk over, opening it and finding her sombre eyes staring back at him.
"What do you want?" He asked as politely as he could. The knowledge that this woman had sat across from himself and his daughter, to do nothing but deliver bold faced lies about how everyone who harmed Taylor would be brought up on charges while she was actually working on covering up the whole thing because one of the people that had tortured his daughter was one of her Wards, was something that had diminished his respect for her to something nearly non-existent.
The only thing that kept him talking with her, or anyone from the PRT with any semblance of courtesy, was the fact that they were the best chance he had of finding his daughter. The best chance she had of being saved.
"There's been some developments… I thought I should do you the courtesy of talking personally about them rather than do this over a phone call. You deserve that."
He stepped free of the doorframe, allowing her inside. Whatever was going be said it wasn't going be said in the middle of his front lawn.
She walked in and he closed the door behind her. She folded her hands behind her back, military position. Rest or parade rest he guessed it was called.
"What's up?" He asked immediately.
"Two things." She answered. "The first is that there's been another sighting of Taylor."
His heart leapt into his throat before plummeting back down. "You haven't found her."
She shook her head. "No… she hit another Merchant hold-out. Went after Skidmark this time. With Mush behind bars and Squealer in the hospital soon to be behind bars herself, he was their last remaining cape. Based on this we feel that she's targeting villain capes specifically for some reason. Skidmark escaped so she might hit the Merchants again if she can find him, or move on to another gang."
Another gang.
Only two gang's left in this city.
His fist clenched. "What-what about those others? The ones that helped attack the prison that she fought the first time?"
"Undersiders? Gone underground. If she finds them, likelihood is that she'll go after them given that they were her first targets... Its also very unlikely that she will find them. Tattletale is rated as a Thinker seven. She could probably figure out Taylor's coming before she would be close enough. Its how they ran from her the first time. Its also why we even caught sight of Taylor at all. After some analysis and reading of the captured Undersider's cell-phones Tattletale was the one that called our emergency lines. Told us exactly where to go before Taylor had even engaged them. Taylor's style with the Merchants has been to hit with overwhelming force and then fleeing before the PRT agents arrive. The Boston division captured Gregor the Snail trying to sneak down to New York. He's being transferred up here as we speak to be interrogated. All likelyhood is that Faultline's crew is splitting up to try and hide more effectively. They'll be difficult to track down, especially if they don't use their masks until they feel its safe. Gregor and Newter are the only easily identifiable out of them. And the Travelers haven't been seen since the prison break."
He shook his head, brushing past her to make it to the kitchen. He needed something to drink. He felt like he was going to throw up.
He took one of the glasses that was still clean and poured himself as much water as it could take. Should have gone out to buy something stronger…
He chugged it down in one go, breathing heavily.
E-88 or ABB. The two most powerful gangs in the bay. One with a virtual army of capes at its disposal, the other with a psycho-murderer, a dragon that repelled an Endbringer, and some tinker bomb maker terrorist.
God…
He took a deep breath, wringing his hands over his face. "What's the second thing?"
"I'm sorry?"
"The second thing." He didn't want to talk about this anymore. "You said you had two things to discuss. What's issue number two?"
She paused, and he heard her take a breath behind him.
"Emma Barnes triggered yesterday…"
He started, slowly standing straight from where he'd been hunched over the kitchen sink.
He turned to look at her, bewildered and confused.
Why was she telling him that?
Why the hell would he even care what happened to the Barnes?
He opened his mouth to speak when he caught the look on her face and it all clicked into place.
Emma Barnes triggered.
She wasn't telling him looking for his concern. She was telling him as a notice.
Emma Barnes was going to be offered a place in the Wards.
His face darkened, and that angry, boiling rage in his gut churned to life again. His daughter's life had gone to hell because of these people. Because of Barnes, Sophia, Winslow, the fucking PRT trying to cover everything up.
"Get the hell out of my house." He hissed.
"I'm sorry Daniel-"
"I said get out!" He snapped. "You come in here and you- you tell me that Taylor's off hurting people, gonna get herself killed at this rate because once she's finished with the Merchants, she will target the Empire and Asians next! You just tell me you're sorry and that's supposed to what? Make it all better? What the fuck good does your sorry do me, huh!?"
He was trembling, he could feel tears forming at his eyes as he struggled to hold them back, sniffing. "Now you're… standing there. Telling me that Emma fucking Barnes just triggered… for… for what? For what?! Tell me that you've got a new cape? Gotta sweep this under the rug like you people did with that Sophia girl? Bribe me off and tell me to keep my mouth shut!?"
"It's nothing like that!"
"Oh boy, this another lie? Fraid I can't keep track at this point- You-you haven't even told me what the hell you've done about Coil, how close you are to finding this Master. You don't tell me anything about what you're doing to save my daughter but Emma Fucking Barnes is on my need to know list!"
He shouted. Shouted and raved. At some point he slammed the glass in his hand back down on the counter. It cut him when it broke. He didn't even notice, his vision was a haze and his thoughts nearly incoherent. He would be surprised that no one had called the cops at a later date.
Miss Militia stood in his house, hands clasped behind her back her face etched out of stone.
When it was over, when he'd calmed enough to actually breathe again, for the pain in his cut up hand to register and the fact that he was currently bleeding all over his kitchen tiles with a shard of glass cutting into his palm, he turned back to the sink, washing the blood free so he could see the jagged piece in all its gory sharpness.
He sniffed and cried, trying to compose himself as he pulled the glass out.
"You're angry." He heard her behind him and had to stop himself from barking out a scathing reply. "I can understand your anger, and I know that there is nothing I can say that won't simply sound like some platitude to you. I could say that I was following orders. That there was nothing I could do. But… that would be a bit of a lie. There were things I could do. I knew those orders were wrong at their core. I knew what we were doing was wrong. I didn't want to, but I ultimately went along with it."
She paused and took a breath, he found a paper towel to grip his hand, putting pressure on the wound as he turned around, looking at her.
"I did not come here to tell you Barnes triggered as… any of those things you suggested. I told you so you wouldn't be caught off guard again. So there would be no more surprises, no more secrets, no more lies. When we find Taylor again I do want to make this right Daniel. As for Coil, the two Undersiders we captured are under fairly heavy guard, random assignment details, including one hero or Ward member. They've given us some good information. I can't…" She sighed. "I can't disclose specifics. The risk of security leaks is still too high… but we'll find him Daniel. I guarantee you we'll find him. And when we do… I will make him pay for all he's done."
He swallowed, the acid at the back of his throat still burning as he blinked away the last remnants of his tears. He squeezed his hand tighter, releasing it to look for a moment, then squeezing again as it immediately kept bleeding.
She tilted her head. "I can help… or call an ambulance if you'd rather I didn't."
He shrugged. "I can keep pressure on it til it stops."
"It'll work better if you stretch out your hand." She stepped forward, putting his four fingers together and straight, then pulling his thumb out as far as it would go. "That way you don't tear it open later when you open your hand."
He winced trying to hold the position as he tightened his grip with the other hand. "Feels kinda strange."
"Yeah. Hence why I asked if you needed help." She said, staring down at his hand as she held his fingers open. "Its also why I stayed. You've got quite a mouth on you."
He grunted when she applied pressure, her grip far stronger than his own, bordering on pain. Partly in payback he guessed. He wasn't sure what he said… probably better to say what he hadn't said. It had been years since his temper got away from him like that.
It was pride that kept him from apologizing. Pride and a bitterness that reminded him that her lies had made this possible. Made it so his little girl was now a… mass murderer… and a fugitive.
Far as he was concerned she got off easy just getting cursed out by him.
"I know its a poor consolation. But we are trying. Taylor is one of many issues we're juggling right now. Legend's presence has stifled the Empire and ABB from doing much, but that can only do so for so long before Kaiser decides a show of force is in order or Lung actually gets himself to care. With Taylor taking on vigilantism, things are only getting worse on that end. Catching her is only half the equation. We also have to keep up a presence, a significant presence, in both ABB and Empire territories if we don't want the situation to degenerate into an all out war."
"None of this would have happened if you people hadn't lied in the first fucking place..." He shot back. He wasn't sure how true it was, if it was true at all. But he needed something. And blaming them was so much easier… than thinking of the alternative.
She turned her eyes to him, looking at him dead on. "Listen to me. As much as it hurts me to say it this was the better course of action in her joining." Danny felt anger rise within him and jerked his hand away from her sharply and said nothing, storming off to the bathroom where he kept his first aid kit.
"Would you prefer the Empire to have come after her with a sales pitch?" She called after him. "Because there's a very strong chance that that is what would have happened if we hadn't recruited her ourselves."
"And so that gives you the right to lie!?" He shouted as he opened the bathroom cabinet, finding the seldom used kit.
"I haven't known Taylor for that long, but even I would know that she has more than enough self respect to not join a team that had a member that hurt her for so long." She said as she walked up to stand at the doorway of the bathroom. She did not meet his eyes as she said the next part. "Given her reaction after discovering Sophia's identity, its more than clear she'd never have joined us if we'd have told her the truth." She paused and this time did look back at him. "What we did was wrong. I won't say it wasn't. But… given what we knew then and what we knew now… I can't say with all honesty that it was the wrong call."
"And you don't think that this, all of this… goddamn mess could have been avoided if you'd just been honest with us?"
Her eyes grew sad. "I… can't know how different things would have been. None of us can. What's happened is something I… but… no one can know how much worse things would have gone in the alternative…"
He could feel tears of frustration in his eyes again. "So that's just it then huh?. 'Oh well. Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda.' Lets get on with our lives?"
She winced. "The way you put it makes it sound so much worse." She admitted.
"It is! Goddamnit it is that bad!"
"What would you have me do?" She asked, standing straight, arms crossing in front of her. "You're not the only one hurting from this Daniel… I let your daughter down and now she sees all of us as liars and betrayers… But what the hell are we supposed to do besides what we're already trying to do?! Solve the problem and help her! I've literally spent every last waking moment of the last month going over everything we could have done, or that we might have done or not done. And where the hell has that gotten anyone!? Nowhere! Absolutely nowhere!"
He opened his mouth to shout back then… stopped.
What would be the point?
She was right in a way. It was a problem he always had when it came to his family. Recent and not so recent events made that abundantly clear.
He worried, and he regretted, and he thought and he regretted and thought some more. For years after Annette died he'd done nothing but regret. Blame himself. Think over and over again all of the what ifs.
What did he have to show for it? Couple of years of saved phone bills since he gave up on cell phones. A distant daughter who had thought she couldn't come to him with her school problems, even more distant friends who he hardly ever saw anymore because he was wallowing in his own misery.
She was right.
But he wanted someone to keep thinking about it. Be haunted about it like he was. Wanted someone else to at least go through a modicum of his own pain. It wasn't fair that everyone else in the world could just look at Taylor's situation and say "Oh, so bad, so sad" and then change the channel to something else less dreary than the situation he had to live with day in and day out.
She sighed. "Look… I have to go. I promise I will keep you updated on anything regarding Taylor and her activities. You'll be the first to know."
"What are you planning to do?" He asked as he applied pressure on his hand again after washing it off with alcohol. He ignored the hiss and sting of the white little bubbles.
"Regarding what?"
"Regarding Emma and that Sophia girl. You already came here to tell me Emma's triggered and I know Sophia's still alive. What are you going to do about them?"
"Emma is being taken to the PRT HQ for power testing. Likely, she'll be offered a place in the Wards as you suspected, but due to her past she will be on probationary status. Also she seemed… unstable. That will also likely cause some complications. She'll be monitored by a Ward or Hero near her at all times to make sure she doesn't cross the line like with Hess. Legend was discussing keeping her on base. House arrest but in a different house so to speak. Given the instability I mentioned it's likely she'll have mandatory therapy sessions for quite a long time. Couple that with her serving off another eight months of suspended juvenile time and she's going to be on a very short leash."
"As short as Sophia's?" He wanted to snipe back but decided to drop it. At this point it'd just seem petty even to him. "And Sophia?" He asked instead, sighing to relieve some frustration.
"When Sophia wakes up, more than likely, she'll be sent to prison under the assumption as if she has been tried as an adult, she violated her probation. She'll be sent to serve out her sentence at juvenile. When she turns eighteen, she will be sent to prison to serve out a further sentence if its extended due to bad behavior."
"How long?"
"Two years as it stands." She answered. "She has given us enough trouble and has to pay for it, I'm fairly sure Legend is behind me on this." She paused, started to pace a bit. "Clements is still in prison upstate though. Has her full eight months of the year sentence left if you wanted to know about her. At least for now. If the prison population issue bleeds over up north then she might get out same as Emma did. That's beyond anyone's control here."
Danny said nothing. "Right then…"
They perked up when they heard a ringing sound and the heroine went to her watch, clicking on something.
"This is Militia." He could see her eyes widen.
"I'm on my way." She looked at Danny and pressed another button on the techno-watch. "It's Taylor. She's been spotted again." Danny perked up.
"What?"
"She's just hit the E-88. Stormtiger was injured." Miss Militia spoke. Danny stood up. "I don't have specifics but I'll call you and let you know." She turned and immediately began marching towards the front door, swallowing the distance with long strides.
He scrambled to his feet, moving to follow after her.
"Where was it?"
She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing before he heard her curse under her breath. "If I tell you you'll just follow and get yourself hurt." She spotted his car keys on the dining room table, before he could move she grabbed them and walked out the front door. "I'm sorry Daniel."
"Militia!" He shouted, running after her, cradling his hand.
"I'm sorry Daniel." She tossed his keys into the front lawn, in the dead of night, he didn't see where the hell they landed. He all but shouted in inarticulate rage as she hopped into her car without another word. He was about to run over and see if he could bodily block her exit but she was peeling off the driveway and down the road before the thought could even fully form in his head, let alone be taken to action.
He stood, breathing heavily through his nostrils, standing in his own drive through with his heart thundering in his chest. It was good that she left. If he saw her or any PRT agent within the next five minutes...
Eventually he ran back into his house, turning on the TV and flipping through the news channels, searching for some kind of story that could tell him where the hell they'd seen his daughter.