Chapter Forty-Two: Debrief
April 15, 2011
Jason waited for the city bus after sixth period, glad that the week was finally finished. With all the craziness over the weekend, the last two weeks had blurred together into one long, twelve day stretch. That didn't even touch how weird it was to go back to school after they'd stopped Coil. On Saturday night, Jason was playing an undercover role as a potential vigilante, and trying to mentally prepare himself in case they had to go to "node four."
On Sunday morning (and afternoon and evening), he had been debriefed over and over again. He'd only been released when his mom showed up and threatened to call the Youth Guard, unless the PRT was holding him on suspicion. They weren't, and he was let go with a warning not to discuss the events until the investigation was complete.
From the tone of the interrogations, the general PRT was just as unsettled by the extreme measures Fi and Armsmaster had come up with as Jason himself had been. Of course, Jason couldn't tell them much about those plans beyond the broad strokes, which seemed to worry the officers even more. Jason was completely honest, but it was still exhausting to have to repeat himself over and over.
At school on Monday, Taylor had told him she went through an equally detailed debriefing. Though she hadn't known anything about the bigger picture of the backup plans, Fi had tasked her with making a number of supply drops around the city, since Taylor could ensure that no one was watching her by using her bugs. She didn't tell Jason exactly what Fi had asked her to hide, but she seemed a bit shaken. Jason didn't tell her everything either, but he did say that Fi and Armsmaster had had a few backup plans, just in case things had gone badly.
The rest of the week dragged by. The Wards were officially off duty until further notice, except for a few patrols with the Protectorate. The hours of the whole team had been weird since the Endbringers were killed, and no one had made a big deal out of it, but his mom's threat of the Youth Guard seemed to have made Renick nervous. Or perhaps Renick simply didn't want to tempt the Wards to talk to each other about events that were still technically under review.
School was still easy, more or less, which meant that Jason ended up with a lot of time to think. He tried not to dwell on the events of the weekend, but it wasn't easy. He kept turning everything over and over in his head, working himself into a terrible fury, and then having to stop and breathe.
He didn't have all the relevant information, he knew that, and yet he felt he knew enough. What had previously seemed like isolated incidents had solidified into a solid pattern of behavior for Fi, and he didn't like the picture that was painted.
Fi wasn't the hero he'd thought she was. She completely disregarded the unwritten rules, ignoring the mutual protection it offered to all capes. Months ago, when she'd revealed herself to Taylor and potentially put him in jeopardy as well, he'd assumed it was a one-time mistake, sparked by her belief that she had no other choice and no trusted allies. The events of the previous week had proven that incorrect.
Fi's resistance to cape branding and instance on going out in public half-dressed had gotten her and Taylor recognized and put them both at risk. Fi hadn't apologize for that, as far as he knew, and he didn't think she would. Her willingness to violate the rules and go after Coil in his own home was chilling, and made worse by the plan to pin the blame on Coil.
Jason had capitulated to that plan for the sake of catching Coil and saving Tattletale's life, thereby protecting Taylor's identity and possibly his own, but it didn't sit well with him. The rules only worked if everyone abided by them, but Fi apparently hadn't thought twice about throwing all of that away.
Worse, Fi hadn't asked for his opinion. While it was good that she had worked with Armsmaster, she'd completely shut him out. She'd issued imperial orders all weekend, treating him and Taylor and Tattletale like they were her underlings and not people capable of their own thoughts. He'd been playing the role of a loyal dog, but Fi's condensention, casual disrespect, and dominance plays had been consistent whether they were in contact with Coil or not.
It was a stark change from the easy friendship and partnership that had been growing, and yet she showed no discomfort with the roles. Which was the false face? Did Fi really think he was willing to be blindly loyal to her, no matter what she decided she wanted? Was she naturally controlling and superior, and had been suppressing that instinct up until then? How well did any of them really know her?
A week ago, Jason would have been quite willing to follow Fi over the Protectorate. He'd already chosen her over the Triumvirate, without regret. And yet now the idea of even continuing on the same team sat uneasily with him. Things that he'd accepted about Fi were harder to swallow in the face of his doubts.
As much as he tried not to think of it, not to get wrapped up in his thoughts, he kept returning to the moment he'd seen Coil lying in his own blood. He'd been sure that she'd killed him, as she had killed the men who raped her. The twisting in his gut in that moment kept haunting his thoughts.
And the worst part was that it would be a least another week before he could talk to her about any of it. He knew he needed to - he needed to get all this out in the open before it became even more tangled in his own thoughts. Stewing in the hurt and confusion would only make any future reconciliation more impossible, if it wasn't already.
There was nothing he could do, now. Either Fi was the girl he'd thought she was, his friend and partner, or she wasn't. She was the anti-hero or the Ward, and there was no way to tell the difference now. Not until the gag order was lifted and they could talk.
Then he'd just have to hope she didn't play him as she'd played Coil.
Jason shoved the thought away and climbed resolutely onto the bus, scanning his school ID to pay the fare. He pushed his way past the crowded front seats, toward the less-filled back of the bus. The driver pulled away while he was still walking, and Jason leaned out and caught a pole before he fell, his backpack swinging slightly with the change in momentum.
"Sorry," he mumbled to the girl he'd nearly fallen on.
"It's okay. You going to sit?" She gestured to the empty seat beside her, and that's when Jason realized he was looking at Fi.
Numbly he glanced up and down the bus, but no one was paying them any attention. He sat heavily, then muttered, "I didn't expect to see you today."
"Gag order was lifted an hour ago. I felt I owed you explanations, first thing."
That warmed Jason a little - it was a good sign. On the other hand, now that the moment had come, he didn't feel ready for the confrontation. "I can't come into the base today. I've got stuff I need to do for my mom."
"We can go to your place and I'll help. Please, Jason, I want to make this right."
Jason didn't answer her immediately.
"Please. At least hear me out."
Jason reached up and pulled the cord to signal for his stop. "You promise to answer my questions?"
"Yes."
Jason nodded, but didn't speak again. They both got off when the bus stopped and walked to his house in silence. Jason used his key to unlock the door, then dead bolted it behind them again and led Fi up to his room.
As soon as he set down his backpack, Fi was talking. "I'm sorry, Jason."
"No, you're not," he countered. "You're sorry I got mad." A moment later, Jason wondered if she was actually apologizing about preparing to unmask Coil; if she even knew why he was upset.
She shook her head. "I'm sorry I put your family at risk," she insisted. Jason tried not to be satisfied that they had understood each other. There was a long, difficult conversation in front of them. Avoiding miscommunication would help, but it still wouldn't be easy.
"If that were true, you wouldn't keep doing it. It's not like this was a one-time thing, Fi. You told Taylor who you were as a test, and in doing so you risked exposing me as well. And when you introduced us, you didn't even give me warning that we walking into a situation where your identity was compromised. Clock told you that was dangerous, and you said then that you'd try to do better, but you didn't!
"It's not just about Coil and this weekend, it's about the fact you've been playing loose with your identity and ours from the beginning."
Fi didn't answer him right away, which Jason took for assent. Now that he'd started talking, he found he couldn't stop. "It's like you enjoy flaunting the rules. You barely wear a cape, you won't let yourself be marketed, you waltz around town in full dress except your mask, daring people to recognize you, and guess what, Lisa did! You put us all at risk!"
She opened her mouth to answer, but Jason wasn't ready to listen yet. His thoughts had been turning this over and over for too long, and he wanted to get it all out. "What is it? Do you think you're too good to be a cape? What's so important that it was worth putting Taylor in harm's way?"
Fi was looking down now, not meeting his eyes. He saw her swallow heavily. "I'm sorry." She sounded sincere, but she'd also sounded sincere when she told Coil she didn't have a problem kidnapping a little girl. "I didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Either situation. It didn't occur to me, that Taylor might have guessed your identity based off of mine. I wouldn't have risked your family like that, if I'd realized.
"As for the Boardwalk, I went down there regularly before the Simurgh. I never would have gone out with Taylor if I thought it would put her in danger. I wasn't looking for trouble; I just wanted to take her out and get her some new clothes to help with her confidence."
"And Coil?" Jason demanded. He wanted to believe Fi, but there was just so much to answer for, and she'd proven to be an accomplished liar. She'd had six days to prepare for this conversation. Could he still trust her?
"It was an accident. I swear to you, Jason, I didn't go looking for him. I was trying to find the PRT spies, and I stumbled across… I didn't even believe it, at first."
"How do you go looking for spies and end up finding Coil's civilian name?" She didn't answer him, but she didn't need to. "Are you telling me that Coil himself was a PRT employee?"
"A seconded contractor, technically. But he was in the PRT's paperwork system."
This realization battled against his anger at Fi. That was a pretty blatant disregard for the rules, too. If Coil had broken the rules first, it made Fi's response easier to swallow. Not easy, really, but easier. "Did he know my name?" Jason asked, his worry temporarily overpowering his anger.
"Not officially. He probably saw your face, but he didn't have access to your file unless one of his spies did. That part is still under investigation."
Jason sat on his bed, but Fi didn't join him. Instead she stood, head still bowed, like a plaintive before a judge. "You know how incredible that sounds, Fi? You accidentally found Coil's name? And not just accidently, but fast. Immediately after we told you not to."
"I know it sounds bad. I barely believed it." She breathed in and out. "Jason, you need to know… It looks like I probably used that information, or would have if things went differently."
Hesitantly, she looked up to meet his gaze. "He called me Sophie. When Armsmaster and I agreed that we would use his name if we had to, I made a private resolution. If circumstances required that I confront Coil in his civilian life, I would tell him that my name was Sophie. Under no other circumstances would I give him that name, or any other that could contradict it. If forced in any other circumstances to tell him a name, I'd give him the PRT cover of Elizabeth Mason but not Sophie. Sophie was only for an unmasking of Coil. The fact that he knew that name… We don't know exactly what it means, because we don't understand his power, but it's not good."
"Why are you telling me this?" Jason asked.
Fi looked back down at her hands, which were clutching each other in front of her. "You deserve to know. I asked for your trust, and you gave it." She clenched her jaw and raised her eyes again. It was hard for her to keep eye contact, but she was trying. "If I ask for trust from a friend, I have to be willing to give it, too. You have every right to judge me."
That surprised Jason, but she didn't look away. After the way she'd treated him that weekend, he hadn't expected humility from her. He wasn't sure he he'd ever seen her willingly submit herself to anyone, before. He'd been half-afraid that Fi believed the lies they'd told Coil, believe he was blindly loyal to her, believed he was a faithful lap dog.
But one didn't submit to judgement before an underling. You didn't throw yourself on the mercy of someone beneath you. Fi did value him, did understand that his loyalty to her had its limits.
Assuming she wasn't just faking it. As much as he wanted to trust this, wanted to let all the hurt fade into the background, he had to test her sincerity. She was submitting for judgement? Well, Jason would oblige her. "Would you have killed him?"
"Absolutely. If it came to that? Yes. From the moment he said Sophie, your life and your families' lives were potentially in danger. He would only have known that name if I was forced to confront him, or if he somehow foresaw me doing so, and that means he might have known about the planted blackmail, and therefore your identity. He demonstrated himself willing to break the unwritten rules by going after Dinah. I wasn't willing to put your family at risk. That kind of threat deserves a response in kind."
Jason swallowed heavily. He would come back to the very disturbing idea that she was willing to kill to protect his family, but the answer felt rehearsed. He wanted her to tell him something because he asked for it, not because she wanted him to hear it.
"Whose idea was it to escalate at every node?"
"Armsmaster and I both came to the same conclusion independently. We were in agreement from the beginning about what might become necessary."
"Even on the secrecy?"
"Mostly. I convinced him that you should be the one we told about the nodes. Armsmaster wanted it to be Clockblocker."
"Why me?"
"I trust you. I trust Clockblocker too, but I trust you more. And the Triumvirate were more likely to listen to Clockblocker, so it was better if he was ignorant so that he didn't have to try and lie to them."
"You advocated telling me?" Jason double checked.
"Yes."
Jason felt exhausted and the conversation had barely begun. This wasn't what he wanted, what he needed from his friend. He needed a confession, an admission of guilt, but this just felt like a prepared explanation. "You were very convincing when you spoke to Coil." For once, she didn't answer right away, so he pressed the issue. "What you said. How you said it. You played the role extremely well."
Fi sighed, and sank down to the floor, sitting cross-legged before him. Looking down on her, Jason still felt like she was begging him for something, which she essentially was. She was begging for forgiveness.
"I used as much truth with Coil as I could. Until very recently, I was prepared to split from the PRT if it became necessary. I was willing to become an independent, a rogue, a vigilante, or even a villain depending on the circumstances. I would never allow drugs or prostitution if it was in my power to stop it, but… I am… not unfamiliar with the idea of the lesser evils. If the PRT had been more corrupt, and if Coil was less dangerous… in other circumstances, if the PRT proved to be the greater evil, I would have done whatever I must."
Her halting speech came to an end, but Jason didn't speak. She hadn't apologized, but her tone wasn't prideful anymore. She wasn't justifying herself, but she wasn't repenting, either. He didn't know if that was enough for them to rebuild their friendship.
"Jason, I… I don't trust easy. I don't trust the government just because they're the government. I need… more than that. Anyone can call themselves a hero. In New York, I already knew that Legend was corrupt. I hated Eidolon for what I thought was abuse of his power. I had… reasons… to distrust Alexandria. But I knew, if I didn't play their tune, it would be easy, so easy, for them to turn the media and the public against me. I had to accept their leash, and… I don't do leashed well.
"I am accustomed to… independence. Experience. Relying on my own judgement. So I stayed on guard, just in case. I was resentful of the fact that I felt forced into my role, I was mindful of the potential for corruption, and I was willing to act out if it proved to be necessary. I can't apologize for that. But, I… I can say that I'm glad it wasn't necessary. I'm glad that we can be on a team together, that… that it didn't come to that."
She fell silent again, and again he didn't interrupt. He didn't have anything to say to her, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the story she was telling him.
"You're good people, Jason. Good in a way that… I haven't been around in a long time. My family… they're good, but they're tough, too. That goodness gets… not lost, but buried. With Coil, I tapped deeply into that part of me that's more tough than good. Hell, after New York I've given up any right I had to call myself good. I'm not good, not in the same way at least, not anymore. But I know how to be tough. I will do the dirty things to keep others safe. To keep others good. Would I kill for your family? Yes. Absolutely, I would."
"I didn't ask you to," Jason protested.
"It wouldn't occur to you do so."
Jason shook his head, because she was wrong. He had considered the lengths he would go to for his own family. He wasn't some pure-heart hero, he just knew where the lines were. He knew when he was crossing them, and the list of reasons that could push him into crossing them could be counted on one hand.
"It wouldn't," she insisted, reading his disagreement. "You'd kill for them if you had to, if there was an immediate threat, but you wouldn't even consider asking me to make a preemptive strike. You see the actions as fundamentally different. I don't." It was a perfect illustration of the problem: with Fi, it seemed like there was some combination of not knowing where the lines lay, not caring if she crossed them, and flatly refusing to acknowledge them. That was a dangerous combination. "Jason, you're my people. I'd kill for the people you'd kill for. I'd die for the people you'd die for, even though you wouldn't ask it of me."
"What were the other nodes?" he asked, unable to really wrap his head around Fi's unexaggerated promise.
She sucked in a sharp breath, and Jason knew that this, finally, was a question she didn't want to answer. She'd been reluctant to talk about her 'toughness' or whatever, but she'd been willing, and had probably even practiced it. Here was something that pushed her beyond mere discomfort.
After a long moment, where Jason almost thought she would refuse to tell him, Fi finally spoke. "If Coil hadn't demonstrated his power on Saturday night, we were to retreat to Tattletale's safe house with Vista, refusing to give her up without a demonstration. If we had to fight our way out, so be it. Armsmaster would show up with a PRT contingent at 8 am on Sunday morning. I'd escape, possibly with you, if you would come. Armsmaster would appear to be killed. We'd hole up in one of a number of places, and wait for news. If the Triumvent weren't in the city by ten o'clock, then we, or I, would-"
"Stop," Jason whispered, realizing he didn't want to know what came next. It was enough that she would tell him, even though she clearly didn't want to. "It was going to be bad?"
"Yes."
"And you told this to the investigators?"
"Yes. Director Costa-Brown herself insisted on hearing my testimony by video chat."
"What did they say?"
"Nothing official, yet. No one is very happy, but then again, these were all contingency plans. The Chief Director seems to understand that, even if others don't."
"Were you honest with them? Completely?"
"Yes."
Jason sighed. He wasn't ready to forgive, not yet. But at the same time, it was starting to feel like he didn't have anything worth holding a grudge over. All that was left were the little things, the small details that had rubbed on the back of his mind like a pebble in his shoe. "Why won't you be a cape?"
"I, I don't understand the question."
"It's like you refuse to buy into the idea of being a hero. You won't choose a costume, you flaunt your identities and blur the lines. What are you trying to prove?"
She bowed her head again, and Jason thought she might even be ashamed, finally. "I don't want to be one of Legend's soldiers. After New York… I had so little of my own identity left. So little that was me. I didn't have my face, my name, my family, my tools… I couldn't wear a stupid spandex cape. I just couldn't. I had to keep something that felt like me."
"And now?" Jason pressed.
"I still don't want to be one of their soldiers."
"How about being our teammate?" he shot back, angry at her implication.
Fi looked up sharply, stricken. "Jason, I didn't mean…"
"But you do. You think I'm one of their soldiers? You think I'm working for people who tortured you? I'm a hero; I help people. I've been helping you. That's what heroes do, what the Protectorate does."
Fi swallowed thickly, but she didn't disagree or look away. Jason ran his hand through his hair in frustration. It felt like they were at an impasse, both able to hear the other but somehow still separated by a void between them. Maybe he could offer her a new perspective. "Legend might be the head of the Protectorate, but ultimately he still answers to the PRT Director."
Fi shut her eyes, and her facial expression looked pained.
"What?" Jason demanded, but she shook her head, wiping actually tears away from the corners of her eyes. When she put her hands down, they clenched into white-knuckled fists. "Fi, what is it?"
She shook her head again, harder, and whispered, "I can't, Jason. You don't want to know this. You don't. You'll hate me for knowing it, and for telling you."
A pit was opening in Jason's stomach, but he urged her on anyway. "Fi? Tell me what's going on." When she didn't speak, he added, "Either way, you'll still know. Not telling me doesn't change that."
"You hate me for telling you about Coil. You hate that I didn't obey the code."
"I hated that you were going to go after him in his own home and use his civilian identity against him," Jason explained patiently.
She met his eyes in order to give him an incredulous look. "Be honest."
"Honestly," he assured her, "it's not about that fact that you told me, or even just that you knew. It's about not protecting secret identities, and being willing to use Coil's against him. That's the breach of code. Telling a trusted teammate is a far second compared to seeking out the information, or using it." Jason licked his lips. "Whatever you know about Director Costa-Brown… if it's that bad… not telling me doesn't change that you know it, and telling me isn't using it."
"Telling you means that you know it. You have to live with it. I'm begging you Jason, don't ask me this."
"Because you'll tell me," he realised. Fi nodded. If Jason asked again, knowing the gravity of the situation, she'd answer. He thought about waiting until they could be in a more secure location, but that meant the PRT base which was probably a bad place to discuss PRT secrets. He thought about not asking at all, but only for the briefest moment.
He had to understand the irrational hate Fi had for the PRT, to understand why she distanced herself from it so stridently. He wanted to believe that she wasn't paranoid, wasn't just bitter, and so he had to know what drove her. He had to know what justified her resistance, if he was ever going to trust her judgement again. "Tell me."
"Director Costa-Brown is Legend's teammate," Fi whispered in a strangled voice, studying his face. "She's Alexandria."
Jason was glad he was sitting as he tried to absorb that. Alexandria… was the PRT Director. The head of the PRT was a parahuman? Was a parahuman as corrupt as Legend? "You're sure?" He heard himself ask. "Absolutely certain?"
"Yes," Fi whispered, still unable or unwilling to speak at full volume.
This, right here, was why the name Intrepid was so apt. He leapt before he looked, pushed on when he ought to surrender, and stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Often enough, things went right and he would forget that it was luck and not skill that protected him. Then he'd stumble into a mess way above his paygrade and curse himself. When the cape that smote Endbringers and fought vampires told you that you didn't want to know something, that really ought to be a clue-by-four.
"Jason, I'm sorry."
Hoarsely, Jason replied, "Not your fault. I asked." The reassurance didn't ease her misery, but he didn't know what else to say. Knowing that Alexandria was Costa-Brown undermined much of the limited faith he still had in the PRT. Finding out that Coil and Alexandria were both PRT employees, back to back, just made the issue all the worse. How was he supposed to be a Ward when literally every authority figure on the national level was corrupt?
If it wasn't for Armsmaster's willingness to face down the Triumvirate, Jason would be considering throwing in the towel. As it was, he knew he'd need a few days to come to terms with everything.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Jason used the time to try to put his thoughts in order. Was he still raw over the events of the weekend? Yes. But the distrust was gone, drained away, and the anger with it. Fi had made calls he wouldn't have made himself, but they hadn't necessarily been the wrong calls, or made for the wrong reasons. She'd been prepared to deal with the consequences, at least, which was more than he'd feared.
Though she'd been distant and presumptuous at the time, she'd acknowledged that she did owe him explanations after the fact. He'd wanted to call Fi on the carpet, and she'd let him, submitting her actions to his review.
His other objections paled now in comparison with the truths he and Fi had just discussed. For one, it was easier to understand why Fi had a hard time taking cape code seriously when neither the Triumvirate nor the PRT gave it any credence. For another, her willingness to be honest with him, even against her own best judgement or wishes, soothed his fears about the equality in their friendship. He'd wanted to assure himself that he was not just a "loyal minion" in Fi's eyes, and yet, paradoxically, the conversation had restored and cemented his faith in her.
Better her, than a false hero like Alexandria or Legend.
"Who else knows?" Jason finally asked, giving up on sorting out his emotions.
"I don't know who else might have figured it out, or who she herself might have told. But you're the only one I've ever told. Ash knew before he died, but we didn't see any reason to tell anyone else."
Soft gratitude covered his inner turmoil for a moment. Whatever friendships or siblings she'd had in the past, she trusted Jason more than them. Or perhaps, trusted him differently, but the fact remained that she'd never shared this secret with anyone else. He might not like her decision making. He might be intimidated by her brutality. Those were things she'd have to change, or he'd have to come to terms with. But their basic friendship was as strong as ever. Once they worked through the hurt, they would come out alright.
At that moment, if she'd asked him to walk through Hell with her, he might have said yes. Ironically, it was that very perception he'd been hoping to redress, if given the chance.
"What am I going to do with you?" he asked, not expecting an answer.
"Forgive me?" she offered hesitantly. When he didn't answer immediately, she begged him, "Tell me how to be a better hero."
"Is that what you want? To be a hero?"
"I want to be someone you can trust. Someone you can rely on. I am going to try to save the world, but there is no way I can do it alone. Tell me what to do, to make this right, and I will."
The honest request pulled a laugh out of Jason. "It doesn't work like that."
"Why not?" Fi's brow wrinkled in confusion. She stared up at him, waiting for a reply. Jason looked down at her, a little tongue-tied, struck again by the idea that she was a petitioner. This killer, the Ender, adult and child, friend and mystery, was waiting for him to hand down her sentence. It was an uncomfortable thought no matter how Jason tried to see it: not because Jason didn't have a right to be mad or hurt, but because it clearly demonstrated that she didn't know how to be a normal friend.
"Fi…" he couldn't finish. Even without hearing his tone, she somehow seemed to understand that he was at a loss for words. Her face crumbled, reading rejection in his hesitation. She tucked her head down and scrambled to her feet.
"Sorry," she muttered, "I shouldn't have come, shouldn't have put this on you. I can't ask you to do this." She glanced around the room, as though looking for something, then reached for his bedroom door. "I'm sorry," she muttered again, still not looking up. Jason leaned over and grabbed her arm as she tried to leave.
"Don't," he snapped. She looked up, startled either by his hand or his protest. "Don't run away from this."
She stood, obedient, and after a beat she quietly asked, "What should I have done differently?"
Jason motioned to the bed beside him and commanded, "Tell me what happened. Everything. From the beginning"
She sunk down on the indicated spot. "I think you know it all, now. Clock and I went to Armsmaster to get the basic plan approved just after lunch, Thursday. He required us to take two days for planning and prep. I thought it was because he didn't take the situation seriously enough, rather than because he was already taking Coil more seriously than I was. I got… frustrated. So I accessed PRT records, looking for the spies. I found Coil instead."
Her hands, which had been twisting together in her lap, abruptly stilled as she forced them flat against her legs. She swallowed heavily, and confessed, "I didn't get it, then. I was so focused on being mad at Costa-Brown and worried about other parahumans in the PRT that I completely missed the implications of Coil's identity. I was working on faulty assumptions, and I had already written Coil off as a threat, so I went about my day. I talked to Tattletale, I sparred, I had therapy, I napped, and it wasn't until we were out at the Boardwalk that I realized I had been an idiot."
Jason remembered that conversation, but didn't interrupt her. "I kinda freaked out, after that. I went back to Armsmaster, who was already prepping about half the ideas I had for dealing with Coil as a time manipulator, or at least a more powerful precog than I had been assuming, plus a bunch of his own stuff. Between his plans and mine, we had a decent idea of what we wanted to do within the hour. We told Clock what he needed to know, and then the rest you know."
"What were the assumptions? I thought you were taking Coil seriously."
She chewed on her lip, but answered. "I was taking him seriously, as a potential threat for the Wards to handle. I wasn't taking him seriously as a potential threat to myself or the PRT. I didn't believe anyone's life was in danger beyond my ability to save it. That's arrogant, I know that now, but I'm still getting used to the idea that parahumans are powerful and gunning for me."
"You're kidding, right?" Jason cut in. "You've been on the outs with the Triumvirate since before you triggered. You know what the Endbringers have done, and you don't think parahumans are a threat?"
"Not like that… I just… Okay you just moved here from Texas, right?"
"Sure."
"Well, you're now living in coastal city. Before Eidolon destroyed Leviathan, were you worried about an attack, day in and day out?"
"No. We'd just seen Behemoth."
"Okay, that was a bad example." She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "My point is that you can know something is dangerous, abstractly, but be accustomed to living with it every day without it actually affecting your life. If it doesn't happen to you, you start to become desensitized to it. Like driving!" She snapped her fingers as she found a better example. "More Americans die in auto-related accidents every year than they do from Endbringers, and yet people aren't afraid of cars."
"So, you're saying that because capes weren't a problem for you in the past, you didn't think they would be now?" That still sounded nutty to him.
"I never had much interaction with capes before New York. Other than being kidnapped, and the mysterious deaths of everyone who investigated that incident, we really didn't cross paths. Capes congregate in large cities, and for the most part I rarely had reason to go into a city with a population greater than fifty thousand people.
"Yamada and I have been talking about this a bit, but it's hard to just forcefully adjust your thinking. I'm accustomed to having the benefit of detailed intelligence. For the most part, hunters know what they're going to be facing when they walk into a situation. Not only that, but once we know the creature's identity, we know the limits of their advantages, favorite tactics, psychology, and specific Achilles heels.
"I was thinking to myself, 'a single werewolf is usually a changer 5, brute 3, and I've seen teams of three hunters take out a den of ten weres or more.' That biased me against taking the ratings seriously. What I forgot to account for was the informational deficit. The hunters know exactly what to expect, they know how to screw with the werewolves' senses, how to dull their reactions, how to target certain members of the pack to throw the others off. We know the best time to go in, and generally, we initiate the encounter. I got cocky."
Jason nodded. As someone who had spent his life living among the damage capes could do and the threat they could pose, it was hard to understand her point on a gut level. Not taking capes seriously was stupid to him on the same level as playing golf in a lightening storm. Logically, however, he could see where she was coming from. Information was almost always one of the most important factors in an encounter.
Good intel let lesser forces overcome or escape from greater ones, which was why thinkers were so powerful. If Fi had enjoyed great intel for most of her life? He could see where it would be hard to adjust. The other thing to consider was the implication of that information. There were a set number of supernatural forces, and they had been well documented and studied for the last five thousand years. Hunters had generations of strategizing and research for every fight.
In contrast, each power was nuanced and different. Secondary, supportive powers that were useless alone could become deadly in the right hands. Information usually came solely from fights between capes or between the capes and the PRT. Additionally, capes were constantly experimenting, growing, and changing, which meant that what data the PRT did have was rarely complete. If Fi didn't learn to adjust, and quickly, it would be a serious problem.
"Go back to Coil," Jason said. "I get not taking capes in general seriously, that's a weakness we can and will address." He was already thinking of ways to do so.
The afternoon of simulations probably hadn't helped her overconfidence; she'd been too successful too easily, based on her knowledge of her opponents' powers and her comfort with firearms. They needed to put her in more realistic situations, without the paint and with real objectives. Maybe they could coordinate with other teams to bring in people whose powers she didn't know. Her arrogance needed to be addressed quickly, before it got someone grievously hurt. Fortunately, she at least recognized the blind spot now and was nodding in agreement with his declaration.
Jason refocused on the real issue at hand. "You had just heard from Tattletale how dangerous he was. How could you write that off?"
She blushed, but didn't look away. "I underestimated Tattletale's abilities. When the situation was first presented to me, I was concerned. I think I was more concerned than anyone else, trying to outthink two thinkers. But then we were able to bring Tattletale in without a single hiccup. After seeing that, I put a cap on my mental assessment of Coil's threat level, when I should have raised my estimation of Tattletale instead.
"I looked at the situation and said, 'Any precog powerful enough to be a threat would never have let Tattletale get to us. Any spies placed high enough to be a threat would have alerted him already.' Even when Tattletale warned us, I just wrote it off as her arrogance instead of mine. In my mind, the ease of our early success limited how dangerous Coil and his people could really be."
"Because you weren't accounting for Tattletale's power giving her an advantage," Jason concluded. "And you probably underestimated her because you're not used to dealing with thinkers in general."
"Probably," Fi agreed. "What's worse is that I let that assumption blind me even after I had evidence that should have contradicted it."
Jason motioned for her to continue.
"When I found Coil's identity, that should have been the red flag that told me I was off base. Instead, I got wrapped up in the implications it had for the PRT, rather than our investigation. I was worried about wide spread conspiracy, not about Coil himself. My subconscious knew something was wrong. I wondered if Coil wasn't what he seemed, tried to figure out if he was a supernatural or maybe a normal pretending to be a parahuman. Both of those ideas died pretty quick deaths, but I knew somewhere in my subconscious that I was missing something and I ignored that feeling.
"All of this was compounded by the second assumption I made. There was evidence a couple years ago that there might be a time manipulator in Brockton Bay. At that time, we tested the area and it came up clean as far as we could tell. I assumed that supernatural tests would work for parahuman time abilities, since they work against precogs, masters, and teleporters. I was certain there couldn't be a time manipulator in Brockton Bay, even when I had Coil's successful double life staring me in the face."
"I thought they officially marked Coil as a precog?" Jason asked.
"They did. There's no evidence he's actually manipulating time, and I'm not saying he definitely is. I'm just saying that I wrote him off when I shouldn't have, partially based on that data. I underestimated him based on old information, which might or might not even have been relevant, and because I didn't trust Tattletale. She rubbed me the wrong way, and I didn't want to give her the credit she was due."
Jason sighed. "I'm not as concerned about your internal prejudices as I am about the fact that you didn't discuss this with the team, or even with me. If you'd talked through these assumptions, maybe we could have caught them."
She nodded forlornly. "That's what Armsmaster said when I debriefed with him. I mean, I couldn't tell him everything because he doesn't know about… everything… but he said I should have gone to the team."
"That's why they call us a team," Jason insisted.
Fi hung her head. "I'm sorry."
"Will you do it different next time?" Jason asked, with as little condemnation as possible.
"Yes. God, yes. I didn't realize I was screwing up, and I have no intention of repeating it. It's not a nice feeling, to look in the mirror and realize that you're a privileged, arrogant person."
"This isn't the first time that you said you were going to change. After Sophia got outed and Taylor joined the team, you told us then you'd do better."
Fi grimaced, but Jason didn't let up from his harsh stare. It was important that she realize this was a pattern of behavior, so that she'd work that much harder to change it. It was also important to remind himself that this was a reoccurring theme, so that in the future he'd compensate by asking more questions and pushing her for details.
Fi had to swallow before she could speak. "I'm not a lone wolf anymore. I know that, I just… I'm having trouble adjusting. Yamada and I are talking about it, a lot. I don't know what I can do except keep trying, and keep apologizing."
"Everyone has their flaws," he told her. She gave him a look that was almost hopeful. "So, yes, I forgive you." Her shoulders sagged in relief as a huge sigh escaped her body. The obvious loss of tension reassured Jason even more. She had been worried he wouldn't forgive her, so she did honestly care about that forgiveness.
"Thank you," she whispered almost reverently.
He considered leaving it at that, but he couldn't let it go without one more reminder. "Next time, let me in."
Fi met his gaze steadily. "I will."
"I mean it. I'll stand by you through whatever shit life gives us, but we're partners, Fi. You don't get to make unilateral judgemental calls like this."
"I know," she said, with the weight of promise. Jason sighed heavily, letting the hurt and tension fade with his exhale. Fi mirrored the action a moment later, her shoulders and posture loosening also. The promise wasn't a true fix - that would take time and effort from both of them. But it was a start.
"Good." Jason injected his voice with false levity and stood up. "Now come on, we've got dusting to do." Her face lit up almost comically. "You have an unhealthy fascination with housework," he told her as he gave her hand up off the bed. "Cooking, washing…"
"I have a fascination with having an actual house," she retorted in a joking tone.
"Wait, really?" Jason asked as they descended the stairs. With Fi in front of him, she couldn't read his expression but her glasses would catch his words.
"Well, I mean, it's not like I've never lived in a house before. Just… not usually," she told him casually. Jason opened his mouth, and then shut it. He decided to just be grateful for the ungrudging help.
While they dusted the living room and dining room, Fi asked about school and about how he was dealing with the move in general. Jason told her about his classes, which were still easy, and the friends he'd made at lunchtime. He assured her that Taylor was sitting on the edge of their group to eat. She wasn't really a part of the group, but at least no one came by and bothered her. Then the conversation dropped off and Fi turned contemplative.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Jason asked as they moved to the upstairs bedrooms.
"Thinking about being a cape, and my identities."
"Yeah?" he probed, wanting to see what she'd say. He hadn't meant to harp on that in particular, because in the grand scale of things her costume didn't really matter. He'd been more concerned about her not buying into being a hero, which made more sense now that he knew all the facts.
"I think there's room for compromise." Fi said, watching him carefully for his approval, unaware of his thoughts. "Now that Beetle's undershirt is finished, I can choose a single overlayer. I want to keep the jeans and tennis shoes as part of the whole capeless thing. Those funds are doing a lot of good. And the clothes are practical. Armsmaster is already on me to have a more protective headpiece, maybe even a full helmet."
Jason waited, sensing she wasn't done. There wasn't enough compromise in what she'd just said to account for her tentative tone. "Maybe the answer is to go the opposite way. To wear the disguise as a civilian. Wear a wig, dress in cargo pants, make that the false face."
"That would help," he acknowledged. It was an unconventional way to go about it, but it made a certain amount of sense. Fi spent more time as a cape than as a civilian, since she'd given up on going to school. Unless and until that changed, it made sense to let her cape identity be more true to herself.
Fi smiled at him, and Jason returned it. She was listening to his concerns. Acting on them. Maybe they were closer to being equal teammates than he'd feared.