Earning Her Stripes
Part Thirty-Nine: The Teeth Go Marching On
[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Grue
Brian fast-walked along the pavement, then went up the stairs to the front door of the apartment building, taking the steps two at a time. He knew Butcher probably hadn't followed them to the alley where he'd gotten off Brutus, but he was also fully aware that the clock was ticking and there wasn't a huge amount of leeway before she started combing the city for the Undersiders. As Alec had said, she was clearly cray-cray, and totally struck him as the type of person to hold onto a grudge far beyond its use-by date.
He buzzed himself into the building, then dashed for the elevator. While he usually took the stairs—fitness was a way of life, not an occasional choice—there was no time right now, and he suspected in the back of his mind that he might just need to save his strength for later. It let out on his floor, and he headed down the corridor to his apartment.
The TV was blaring some kind of mindless music as he let himself in, and he allowed himself a minor sigh of relief. "Aisha!" he called out as he headed into the lounge area. "Grab your go-bag! We need to leave!"
"What?" Aisha looked around from where she was indulging in dance moves of her own invention. "Go-bag? Where are we going?"
His next sigh was a lot more aggravated. "I've told you and told you that you need to have a bag packed and ready to go at a moment's notice! And can you turn that off?"
"Yeah, but since when do I listen to you?" At his pointed glance, she reluctantly picked up the remote and turned the volume down by about half. "And what's this all about, anyway? You've totally ruined my dance video."
He followed her line of sight, and saw the phone propped up where it could record her somewhat innovative (to use a generous phrasing) dance moves. Striding over to it, he shut it off, then tossed it to her. "A go-bag's essential for if you ever have to just pick up and run. Brockton Bay's always been a dangerous city, and now it's even more dangerous. We have to go, now. Soon. Today."
"I know what a go-bag is, doofus." She put her hands on her hips. "I've totally got one. I mean, kinda got one. Mostly. Anyway, the Empire assholes have been taken down and out, so why are we running now?"
He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Okay, in reverse order, this is not about the Empire. It's a lot more dangerous than that. Second, what do you mean by 'kinda got one'?"
She gave him a medium-intense stare of disbelief. "What the fuck would be more dangerous than living in the same city as fuckin' Hookwolf? Especially since him and Lung got the living shit smacked out of them by the Realest Thing that ever hit this city?"
Briefly, he considered yelling at her to do as she was told, but common sense reminded him that Aisha hadn't acceded to that sort of thing since … well, ever. If raised volume had been the secret to her obedience, then their father would've done well with her. As it was, Aisha was the world's champion at digging in her heels when she figured she was being railroaded in something. And if he just went into her bedroom and grabbed her go-bag, she would rightly see it as a violation of the fragile trust he'd been working to build up between them over the last few months.
Which meant that he was going to have to do something he'd sworn he'd never do. No matter how badly this was going to turn out (and he didn't foresee any kind of good outcome) it would be worse if he didn't. He just hoped she wouldn't take the revelation as badly as he feared.
"I'm going to need to back up a little on this one," he began carefully, aware that time was passing. "You're aware that I don't always earn my money doing things on the up-and-up, right?"
"Psshhh, duh," she scoffed. "You're Grue, of the Undersiders. I figured that shit out about one day after you moved me in here with you. Coming home late at night, limping your sorry ass around on the day after a heist, pretending your ribs weren't sore? I'm bad at schoolwork an' shit, not fuckin' blind."
"Ah." Impressed despite himself, he blinked. "I knew you weren't blind, but … okay, yeah, you got me. When were you going to tell me that you knew? It would've made life a lot easier if I didn't have to sneak around in front of you all the time."
She rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I didn't tell you? Watching you tiptoe around and pretend nothing was wrong was funny as fuck."
Yup, that's Aisha all over. "Okay, then. Well, I was out with the other Undersiders—"
"Wait," she interrupted him. "Do I know the others? Have I met them?"
He shook his head, trying to keep her on track. "No, you haven't. Like I was saying, I was out with them, but not in costume—"
"So, which of them are you banging?" She gave him a wide, ingenuous stare. "Purple chick or the dog girl? I mean, purple chick doesn't leave anything to the imagination, but I bet dog girl could keep up with you in the gym."
"I'm not banging either one of them," he gritted. "It wouldn't be—"
"What, you're banging twink-boy?" Aisha took a step back and raised her eyebrows appraisingly. "Way to be inclusive, big bro. Never thought you had it in you."
"I'm not banging anyone!" he shouted. "And will you please stop saying 'banging'?"
She let out a tiny snerk of amusement. "You're the one saying it more than me."
For fuck's sake. He was normally better at this than preventing Aisha from getting under his skin, but she was on fine form today. "Okay, nothing of that sort is happening in the Undersiders. But that's not why I told you I'm Grue."
She hitched her butt on the end of the sofa. "Not that I'm interested, but sure, I'll bite. Why'd you tell me?"
He took a deep breath. "Because sometime in the last few days, a fucking psychotic called March came here from New York, and about an hour ago she tried to recruit me and the others."
From the way Aisha's gaze shifted, she figured out the rest almost immediately. "And when you said no, she decided to wreck your shit. So, what's the big deal? You and your little play group aren't exactly the Triumvirate, sure, but you can still kick ass and take names. Kick hers and drop her off at the PRT building."
"Because Butcher was also in town, and one thing led to another, and now March is the new Butcher, and she's still pissed off at us. It's not the Empire who'd like to drag us out into the street and murder us gruesomely. It's the Teeth." He gave her a hard stare, willing her to understand. "And that's why we've got to leave town today."
"Uh, that's on you, big bro, not me." Aisha held up her hands, palm out. "This March bitch don't know me from a hole in the ground. I'm staying right here."
"I'm the one who pays the rent for both of us," he reminded her. "And you aren't old enough to legally reside here alone, even if you were pulling in enough cash to keep up the payments."
"So, I'll live somewhere else." She gestured at the nearest window. "Not with Dad or Celia, that's for fuckin' sure. But there'll be places I can go."
"Even with the Empire and ABB gutted, Brockton Bay will never be a place where it's safe to just live on the street, and you know it. Get your go-bag. We're leaving." He knew that taking her with him without having gained proper legal custody of her had its own legal pitfalls, but that wasn't exactly something he was dwelling on at the moment. There were no good options, so he was working on the least bad one that he could see.
She rolled her eyes. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I haven't got a go-bag."
Metaphorically, he skidded to a halt. "What do you mean, you haven't got a go-bag? I know I stood there while you packed it."
Her huff of irritation almost made it sound as though he was the one at fault. "Yeah, but you made me pack the stuff I liked best. So when I needed my shit, I unpacked again."
"So how much is currently packed? No, wait. Just go pack it now. Please." The last word felt like it had been dragged out of him by one of Rachel's dogs, but without it, his request would've been far more likely to elicit a raised middle finger.
As it was, she gave him a patented Aisha look. "Why? Like I said, I'm not going anywhere."
"Well, I am." He was fast running out of patience. "And like it or not, I'm the only adult you know who's willing to put up with you for more than fifteen minutes at a time without either making you do push-ups or trying to get you high to shut you up."
Finally, she seemed to stop and actually listen to what he had to say. "Well, motherfucking cocksucking shitballs."
That was basically Aisha-speak for 'okay, fine, you're right', though she'd never say those specific words to him or anyone else. Brian nodded to her. "Go-bag?"
The sigh she heaved was more resigned than aggravated. "Okay, fine, I'll go pack a damn go-bag."
His smile was very carefully calculated to not look smug or condescending, because Aisha could pick either one up at a hundred paces in the dark. "Thank you."
As she headed off toward her room, Brian pulled out his phone. His go-bag was under his bed ready to grab and bolt with, but first he had to send a warning text.
After all, he didn't want Aisha and Lisa killing each other on their first meeting.
Butcher
May finished cutting away the bottom of the mask and neatening up the torn edges, then slipped it back on. She spun the razor-sharp knife on her finger, then deconstituted it and reformed it as her trademark rapier. The sshhhk as it slid into its scabbard was music to her ears.
While her predecessor had rocked the whole multicannon and bullshit oversized bow thing, May didn't lean in that direction. Quarrel had been the archer, not her, and stupidly big guns were for insecure guys making up for lack of dick size.
Hey! That doesn't even make sense! Quarrel sounded less pissed off with being dead than with the insinuation May was making, which was kind of funny.
Well, it does, kind of. This was another one of the internal voices, who seemed to share May's amusement with the whole situation. Is there something you've been trying to tell us, with that gun?
Oh, shut the fuck up. Quarrel wasn't seeing the joke.
Someone cleared their throat behind her. "So, uh, boss? What happens now? Whose shit do we kick in?"
Boss. I like the sound of that. She smiled as she turned to the cape who'd spoken, who turned out to be Vex. "Well, we've got several targets. The little shits on the big dogs lied to my face and said they were interested in working for me. We are gonna find them, drag them back here, and give them the choice to either get jumped-in to the Teeth or die."
She actually didn't much care either way, but nobody said no to March. And nobody especially said no to Butcher. From the rising murmur of anticipation among the Teeth, they seemed to share her attitude in that regard.
"Then there's those three heroes that showed up just before, the Real Deal or whoever they're supposed to be. I already killed Monochrome once. When I gank someone, they stay dead. So, we're gonna find them, and I'm gonna make sure it sticks this time. And then there's one more."
She looked around at the Teeth, and the minions beyond them, all just waiting for her word to go out and cause mayhem. This was where she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to be doing.
"See, there's this one Ward, called Flechette, who thinks she's all that …"
Flechette
The itch between Lily's shoulder blades refused to go away even when she and Aegis reached the roof of the PRT building. It only started to abate once she was in through the roof doors and going down in the elevator. Flanked by Aegis, she stepped out on the top floor and headed for Director Piggot's office.
The Director raised her head when Lily entered. "Ah, good. You're here. I've been in contact with Director Wilkins, and a chopper is on the way to pick you up."
Lily had been expecting this, and even looking forward to it, so she surprised everyone including herself when she impulsively said, "No, ma'am."
"What?" blurted Aegis, then hesitated as Director Piggot gave him a sharp look. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll shut up now."
"Thank you." The Director placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward to give Lily a hard stare. "Perhaps you would like to expand on your reasons for saying that."
"Yes, ma'am." Lily took a deep breath. "Sending me back to New York wouldn't help me in the slightest. Just on her own, March kept me on the back foot without even really trying. And now that she's the Butcher, she's got even more people doing what she wants, so she can screw me over at a moment's notice with far less effort than before. And anyone getting in her way is likely to get seriously hurt."
Piggot's expression was stony. "Yes. The longer you stay here, the more chance my troopers will get hurt or killed, trying to deal with your problems."
Lily knew she had to tread carefully. "Technically that's true, ma'am, but the Real Thing is a significant aspect here as well. You've seen how Blockade's good steel ignores my power, which means it'll ignore March's. In my opinion, the Real Thing is our best chance of beating March-as-Butcher. I think we should bring them in on this, share all the insights we have with each other, and work together to bring her down once and for all. Because with March in charge, the Teeth just became a whole magnitude more dangerous, for everyone. Not just for me."
Slowly, thoughtfully, the Director leaned back in her chair again. "You raise an interesting point of view. Aegis, your thoughts on the matter?"
Put on the spot, Aegis blinked a couple of times before he answered. "I, uh, I don't have the experience with March that Flechette has, but I've read the files on her and the Butcher. March managed to be a real problem for Flechette in New York, just working with random capes and normal criminals. This latest development creates a really problematic synergy on top of that. So yeah, I agree with Flechette. This needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later, and if the Real Thing are willing to help, we should definitely bring them in on it."
"March nearly killed Monochrome," Director Piggot reminded him. "Apparently her force field isn't proof against March's power. They aren't the be-all and end-all that you might think they are."
"They don't have to be." Lily was encouraged by Aegis' support. "The Real Thing might only be able to slow her down, but that's more than most capes can do. Also, the Teeth are likely to be a real problem if we can't deal with them either first or at the same time, and the Real Thing are good against heavy hitters in general."
"Hmm." Piggot rubbed her lower lip with her thumbnail. "Alright, I'll call them in and you can talk tactics. Be aware that I will not greenlight any course of action that I consider ill-advised."
Lily nodded, feeling a rush of relief. "Thank you, ma'am."
Monochrome
We landed on the roof of the PRT building in a roar and a rush of thruster-wash. As Madison cut the jets, I looked over at Emma. "Is it just me, or do we keep ending up here?"
"It's not just you." Emma jumped lightly down to the ground, and turned to face the two people who were waiting for us outside the roof entrance. "Director Piggot, good to see you again. And I'm guessing you're Flechette."
"That's me." The costumed girl stepped forward. "And you're the only three people I know who've managed to take March on and walk away."
I grimaced as I landed beside Emma. "I wouldn't say that I exactly walked away, the first time."
"Monochrome, right?" At my nod of confirmation, Flechette smiled slightly. "You survived the first time because your power slowed her down a little. As far as I can tell, you clashed with her again just this afternoon, and came away without a scratch."
"Director Piggot's double-layer idea worked perfectly," I admitted. "March—well, Butcher—threw an exploding blade at me that should've by rights shredded my chest and opened my ribcage up like a book. But because I had a second layer, I was fine."
The Director nodded. "I'm glad to hear something's going right, but we can't get complacent about it. Flechette, you're the person with the biggest stake in making this version of the Butcher go away, and you know the most about her. Real Thing, you've got the best chance of helping us get there. I just want them out of my city for good, and I've got the power to authorise whatever shenanigans you come up with. So, let's start figuring things out."
Butcher
Right now, the Real Thing and the PRT will be trying to figure out how to bring me down. I mean, it's what I'd do if I was them. But they won't. They can't. If they didn't manage to pull it off before I became Butcher, there's no way in hell they can do it now.
Want to be careful about that, warned one of her internal voices. Famous last words of way too many supervillains: "there's no way they can beat me".
Yeah, agreed another one, the original Butcher. I thought that, back in the day. Doesn't matter how good you are, someone'll come up with a work-around, or just keep hitting you until you go down.
Yeah, but you aren't me. All these people who follow you because you're so fucking edgy and violent? By the time we take on the Real Thing and the rest of those assholes, I'll have them working together like a fucking Swiss watch. It's called being a force multiplier.
Yeah, yeah, we'll see.
May bit off her internal retort and looked over at the member of the Teeth who was trying to get her attention. "Yeah, what is it?"
"It's the people with the dogs," the guy reported. "We found 'em."
May grinned viciously. She'd sent out several cars full of her people to look for the four teenagers who had spat in her face. Even this early in the piece, her power was working on them, allowing her to direct and guide their actions far more efficiently and effectively than any of the other Butchers had been capable of. And now it seemed her ploy had borne fruit.
"Pass the word back," she said, coming to her feet fluidly. "Slow them down, and get me a location." The rest of her capes wouldn't be able to keep up with her teleport jumps, but that was fine. She wouldn't need them to help take down a bunch of ungrateful assholes. This was something she could handle all by herself.
Grue
Lisa looked out the car window at the traffic going by. "We've got a problem."
Brian wanted to snap at her, but held it back. It wasn't her fault that Aisha had spent way too long packing her go-bag, then wanted to take three bags instead of one. Up until she'd spoken, he'd just been happy that they were in the car at last and heading out of the city.
"What kind of problem?" asked Alec before Brian could. "PRT? Protectorate? Rogue mime clowns?"
Well, okay, he wouldn't have asked that last one.
"None of the above." Lisa sounded tense instead of smugly confident, which told Brian there was a real problem. "There's a couple of cars that are deliberately slowing us down."
"Knew we should've taken the dogs," Rachel said predictably. "Traffic is stupid."
"I know, right?" Aisha chimed in. "I'd be happy to ride a dog out of here."
"Too conspicuous, in case Butcher came after us again," Brian pointed out, not for the first time.
"I'm pretty sure these are actually the Teeth." Lisa didn't sound happy about it, which Brian didn't blame her at all for. "Brian, we need to evade."
"Toward or away from where Rachel's got the rest of her dogs?" Brian eyed the next intersection as the ratty car jockeyed its way in front of them again.
"Toward," Rachel said immediately.
"Away from," Lisa contradicted her.
"We're not fucking leaving my dogs behind!"
"And I never said we were, but we have to lose this tail! Brian, turn right! Alec, put that driver out of position!"
"Thought you'd never ask." Alec peered out through the windshield, and the car in front of them abruptly swerved to the left, T-boning a large van. "Whoops."
Brian hauled the wheel to the right, and they passed the stricken car by. As he kept up the turn, they made it around the corner to the right, honking horns and bellowed profanity trailing behind them. "What now?" he asked tensely.
Up ahead, in the intersection they were about to enter, there was an explosion of flame and thunder; when it cleared, Butcher was standing there. Brian would've gone so far as to say that she looked pissed.
"Left!" screamed Lisa, and Brian instinctively followed her instruction.
Basic survival instinct told him to floor it; a moment later, an explosion in the road behind rocked the car. "Where to?" he yelled. "She's just going to keep chasing us!"
Lisa grimaced. "Never thought I'd be saying this, but … the PRT building. It's our only chance."
"You're nuts." Alec hung on as Brian hauled the car around another turn. "Certifiable."
Lisa gave him a raised-eyebrow look. "But am I wrong?"
His shoulders slumped. "Dammit."
Butcher
May stood in the road and watched as the car headed for the PRT building.
That's right, you ungrateful assholes. Just keep running. You'll never get away.
All according to plan.
End of Part Thirty-Nine
