Chapter 2-3

Convincing my father to let me join the Wards wouldn't be easy. My dad was about as overprotective as a father could be and it was common knowledge that the Wards put themselves in danger a lot. Then again, all superheroes did. It kind of comes with the territory. Inevitably, my father's first thought would be to say no. Since I'd need his permission to join, I'd have to find a way to get past his need to constantly protect me. I needed information.

I started looking up the Wards in the public library. What I found were pages of smiling teenagers in colorful costumes looking sickeningly happy. It reminded me a little too much of some of the pictures my dad showed me when I was about to enroll in Winslow High. As I learned the hard way, looks can be very deceiving. I shook the thought out of my head. It made sense that an organization would try to sell itself, after all. I'm not stupid enough to think that life in the Wards will be all sunshine and puppies, but it can't possibly be worse than going back to Winslow.

From what I was reading so far, that seemed to be the case. I read several 'a day in the life of' articles, including an old one from Brockton Bay's very own Triumph before he graduated to the Protectorate, and they made the superheroes sound…almost normal. They went to school, did homework, practiced using their powers, and occasionally stopped a crime. The story seemed to especially hammer on about how combat was strictly voluntary and how rarely anyone ended up in a hospital. It was nice, clean, and as kid-friendly as it could be. Showing this to my dad would be a good start.

One forum mentioned that the PRT could be a little overbearing, but that didn't bother me that much. After months of having to deal with apathetic teachers and nearly killing someone because I didn't know my own strength, having someone watching my back might actually be a good thing. If nothing else, they'd be an excellent bully repellant. Not that bullying would happen much if I ended up in a good school like Arcadia. Arcadia had a reputation to keep.

That said, I knew the internet would give me an unrealistically rosy picture of what life was like in the Wards. Sure, Wards aren't required to join the Protectorate when they turn eighteen, but they almost always did. Sure, Wards don't have to join Endbringer fights, but it happened anyway. The more I read, the more I found myself wondering what they're hiding. There was no way that the Wards were all fun and games. What weren't they telling me?

Great, now I was having second thoughts. How would I convince my dad if I couldn't even convince myself?

I sighed. The funny thing about paranoia is that you'll always find 'proof' that someone's lying to you if you look hard enough. I have been lied to and disappointed by so many people that I automatically assumed everyone was out to get me. Right now, I probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash if I found out that one of my bullies had been a Ward all along. It was probably stupid, but the doubts still niggled at me. As much as I wanted to think that the system was perfect, or at least functional, I've seen too much evidence in the past two years that it wasn't. That left the million-dollar question: Was I right to be paranoid? The internet kept saying how great the Wards were but I'm not stupid enough to believe everything the web tells me. I've never actually met any of the Wards myself outside of publicity events and had no idea what they were really like. What if they turned out to be a bunch of jackasses with a god complex? What if the PRT is run by a maniac who thinks all parahumans are villains waiting to happen? How badly could I screw myself over if I go down this path?

Memories of Winslow came back. Months of near daily pranks. The locker. A thousand other small humiliations. Whatever the Wards were like, it'd still be better than what I already had. There's no way in hell the PRT would let a parahuman with Emma's, Madison's, or Sophia's mindset run around unchecked. Besides, for all I knew, the Brockton Bay Wards could turn out to be really nice people. I might have friends again. Real friends. People who care about me that aren't named 'Dad'. It was hard to have hope again after everything I'd been through, but if I was wrong...

I squashed that train of thought. Nothing would change if I kept convincing myself it would all end in tears anyway. God help me, I needed things to change. I spent another thirty minutes or so in the library taking notes before heading home. As I got closer, a pit of dread opened up in my stomach. Dad and I didn't talk much, especially about the important things. Even with all the information at my disposal and my notes backing me up, there was always the chance that he would say no. If he did, what would I do? I couldn't join the Wards without his permission and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I went out at night against his will. On the other hand, I couldn't soldier on like this forever.

I got home at about 5:30 and went to my room, still pondering how I was going to break it to him. Right now, he didn't even know that I had triggered, let alone that I wanted to join the Wards. Should I just tell him? He probably wouldn't believe me without giving him a demonstration and my flashier powers don't work without my suit. Should I transform right in front of him? If it looked as painful as it felt, I might just end up traumatizing him. Maybe I should just put on my armor and hope for the best. Then again, I've had a lot of experiences with plans that involved the phrase 'hope for the best'…

Six o'clock. Dad would be home soon. I had to make a decision.

Fuck it. Fortune favors the bold.

I took off my clothes, called, and gritted my teeth as the plates tore through my skin. Yeah, Dad would kill himself if he ever saw me doing this. Funnily enough, the damage from yesterday had almost completely disappeared. Well, that's convenient. I took a deep breath, calmed myself, and waited.

"Taylor! I'm home!"

Time to face the music. I hesitated as I got to the door. I could still turn back. Banish the armor and pretend nothing's wrong. But if I did that, I'd never be able to muster the courage to talk about this again. Still, the prospect of outing myself to Dad terrified me. Funny how I threw myself at Lung without a second thought but that I'm too scared to talk to my own father.

I opened the door and walked down the stairs. Dad was already cooking when he saw me.

"Dad." I said softly. "We need to talk."

His eyes widened. "Taylor?" I didn't know what to make of his expression. Was it shock? Fear? Horror? "Is that…you're a cape…"

I nodded. "Yes."

For a minute, the two of us just stood there. I don't think either of us really knew what to say, so I did what I normally do: I kept my mouth shut. "Since when?" Dad suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"Couple of months. I think I triggered in the locker."

Dad just stared at me with a sad look on his face. "I…I don't know what to say." I haven't seen my father look this lost. Not since Mom died. "So…what's your power, then?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. He didn't scream or burst into tears. I guess that's a good sign. "I can control sound. I'm stronger and faster than a normal." Dad slowly set himself down at the table. It felt nice, just talking about my powers like it was a homework assignment. Made me feel a little more human. "I have super-hearing too. The neighbors are arguing. Mr. Graves brought the wrong type of potatoes again."

Dad snickered. "Well, they all taste the same anyway." He sighed. "You're had…this for months. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

I winched. How was I going to put this diplomatically? "I needed to know what I could do. Figure out what my options are."

"And by 'figuring out', you meant 'sneak out the house in the middle of the night and play superhero', didn't you?" I twitched. How the hell did he know that? "I'm your father, Taylor. I can tell when something's up with my daughter. I'm just glad it's not drugs."

The two of us sat in silence for a while. "Thank you. For not freaking out, I mean."

"Freaking out? Oh, I'll probably freak out in a few hours when the shock wears off. Right now…right now, I don't know what to think. When I said that I knew something was up, you being a parahuman wasn't what I was expecting." Dad shook his head. He looked very tired. "So, what happens now?"

I took a deep breath. Time for bomb-shell number two. "I was thinking of joining the Wards…"

Suddenly, life returned to my father's eyes. He looked up so fast I thought he just gave himself a whiplash. "No. Absolutely not. I won't have you running around the street in the middle of the night. You could get hurt, or worse." He grabbed my hands and looked me straight in the eye. "I love you, Taylor. You're all I have left. I can't lose you to some punk with a gun." It was sweet, how much he cared about me. I almost felt selfish just for considering going to the Wards. Still, I needed this, more than I could ever explain.

"Dad, I looked them up in the library. Wards aren't child-soldiers. They're never put in serious danger. The worst I'd be fighting would be C-rate villains and the occasional mugger."

"And if one of those muggers has a gun?"

"My armor's a lot tougher than it looks and I have a shield that could take several of Lung's fireballs before it went down." I reassured him, before my brain caught up with me and I realized what I'd just said.

Dad hadn't missed it either. I recoiled when I saw his face go red. "Lung…YOU FOUGHT LUNG! YOU…" Dad visibly tried to calm himself. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't…Christ, Taylor, what were you thinking…"

"He said he was going to kill kids…" I said, weakly. "I had to stop him."

He laughed, mirthlessly. "You…you're just like your mother. People could yell at her for hours and she wouldn't bat an eyelash, but God have mercy on your soul if you touch a child when she's around… You won, didn't you?" I nodded. "Heard about it at work. I don't know if I should be proud of you or ground you for the rest of your life." In a way, hearing that was even better than getting Armsmaster's approval.

"Dad, if I join the Wards, I'll get training, equipment, back-up…I could be a real superhero."

"And if I said no, you'd go out on your own." I didn't want to admit it, but I probably would. Dad knew me too well, I guess.

"If you don't want me to do this, I'll stop. I'll never use my powers again."

"But you'd resent me for it."

I didn't answer him. He was probably right. I didn't want to say it out loud, but he was probably right.

"I need this, Dad." I pleaded.

"Why?" Dad grabbed my hands. "I know you're unhappy at school, but to go this far… There's got to be a better way to feel happy than to take a swing at the biggest supervillain in town." My father wasn't stupid. We both knew that if it weren't for the bullies, I'd never have taken the risk of fighting Lung.

"I need…I need to prove to prove to myself that I'm not just a victim. That I'm better than them."

"You're still being bullied." He said, flatly.

"They never stopped."

"You should have told me."

"You couldn't have changed anything if I did." I could practically hear Dad's heart sink at my admission. He would take it as a personal failure to protect me, but that didn't make it any less true.

"What about Emma? Maybe you two could have reconnected?"

My blood began to boil at the mention of that girl. "Dad, she's the one who started it all."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know! The summer break before high school and she just decided to turn on me for no reason and her asshole friend stuffed me in that locker and she gets away with everything because her dad's a lawyer." Here I was, rambling again.

"Oh god, Taylor…" He sighed, running his hands through his thinning hair. "I am going to kill Alan."

I really hoped he wasn't serious about killing Emma's father, even if the bastard did deserve it. "Dad, if I stay at Winslow, I'm going to lose it. When I do…I have powers now, and I could do something I'm going to regret later."

He nodded. I think he was beginning to understand. "And you think joining the Wards will make things better?"

"I can't get any worse. If I join the Wards, I can convince them to move me to Arcadia High. I get a fresh start away from the bullies and I get to do something that makes me feel good about myself. I need this, dad. Please."

Dad looked at me for a few minutes before softly saying: "All I ever wanted is for you to be happy…" He hugged me. The touch of his skin felt cold, as if there was some distance between us with the armor on. Still, it felt good to come clean. To cry on his shoulder, even if I didn't have tear ducts in this form. "We're both going to take a day off tomorrow. If you still feel the same way about this then, I'm calling the PRT. That okay?"

I nodded. Yeah, it was okay.

It was all going to be okay.