Her eyes twitched while the plastic chair beneath her groaned slightly every time she anxiously shifted in her seat.

Taylor clearly wasn't used to the feeling of having her hair tied back like this, nor the blurry vision, but the slight annoyance it brought wasn't enough to dissuade her from the choices she made. It was better than the alternative that required using clippers and a far stronger will than she apparently had at her disposal.

The bunched-up, oversized hoodie hid most of her body, meaning when the doctor walked in they couldn't see how her muscles tensed with each step they took, bulging in her arms like bars of steel beneath the skin. Though it wasn't like I could see them, I hardly had a need to after I hugged her on that night.

It was only blissful ignorance that had let me sleep now, just wanting to believe that my daughter was truly sitting next to me and not a psychopath one slip away from ripping me limb from limb. I suppressed a shiver, focusing on the doctor who had been speaking.

"For now, it looks like you'll make a full recovery Taylor," the middle-aged woman said as she gave my daughter a closed-lip smile and let her clipboard fall to her lap. "With only a basic checkup for now and the urine test still processing, you'll have to wait another day for concrete results." The woman's gaze kept shifting between Taylor and me with that same smile.

"Going by your current state of health Taylor I'd say you're on the right track to recovery unless Panacea happened to miss something. But even in that scenario, we'll know by the time your testing finishes and will be able to prescribe antibiotics to finish off whatever's still in your system if there happens to be any complications."

A perfect outcome, yet Taylor still looked like she was ready to pounce the moment the wrong word spilled from the doctor's lips. Every twitch of her leg through her jeans made me more on edge, but I kept it together enough to place a hand on her shoulder and face the doctor.

"That sounds great," I said with a smile, slightly squeezing Taylor and feeling dense muscle tense with the movement. Keeping my expression from wavering was a herculean task.

How long could I delude myself until I cracked? How long until she noticed this charade?

It wasn't long before we were back in the car without a fuss. Taylor elected to treat the window more attention than me on the way home, meaning she didn't have to see my face shift with each foul thought that drifted across my psyche.

I had quickly narrowed down three potential paths I could take:

First, I could dial the PRT/Protectorate hotline, submit her to the fate of the heroes within the city, and wait until they sorted the situation out without my input.

Second, I could confess I knew she was a Cape and deal with the unpredictable reaction that came from that while within spitting distance.

Or third...I could simply continue living my life and pretend that the person sitting next to me was the same person I saw on the hospital bed a mere week ago, clinging to life before Panacea swooped in to save her.

Every option had a potentially horrific conclusion depending on the circumstances of her current headspace.

The first could tear my daughter from my arms permanently if she had a bad reaction to my reporting. There was no telling what the heroes would do to her if she happened to lash out.

The second could cause her to panic and lash out at me, something I needed to avoid as if my life depended on it—because it did.

There had to be a reason why she hadn't told me she was a Cape and choosing the first or second option was pushing her to decide her future on the spot, something likely to escalate to a point where I wouldn't be able to reach her with words.

But the third…

I cringed even thinking about it. Sitting back and letting her suffer in silence from problems I couldn't understand twisted my heart in ways I hadn't felt in a long time.

Even after going over all of my options, the nagging feeling I was avoiding something persisted. I knew what it was, a black, bubbling tar sticking to the back of my mind, slowly creeping to the forefront of my thoughts with each unavoidable pass I made over it. It was a possibility I didn't want to accept, one that I knew would tear me apart if it came to be.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel and my teeth clenched. I needed to focus on one thing at a time.

I just needed to get home right now.

I subtly watched Taylor avoid the rotted step as she followed me to the door, careful to stay a good distance behind me at all times, constantly watching me with those eyes that did not belong to her. A barely noticeable change in hue that made me break out into sweats when I first noticed it. The tar continued to slide forward, dissolving thoughts of a peaceful outcome.

"Dad?" She suddenly asked, looking at me unblinking with those eyes of hers as her left foot slowly slid back.

"Yes, Taylor?"

Her eyes shifted to my hand for a split second before snapping back up to my face.

"Are…" She seemed to hesitate, the words dying on her lips as her hands shifted in seemingly random patterns. Her finger curled, her thumb brushed across her index finger, and her hands clenched and unclenched several times as she stood there. Eventually, she breathed out, "Are you okay?"

It wasn't a question I had been expecting. My mouth hung open momentarily before I snapped it shut and painted a smile across my face.

"Of course—"

"No," She quickly cut me off. "You're not."

The silence that stretched for several seconds was damning.

"Neither am I."

I couldn't form a proper response as her head suddenly fell to her feet, only seeing a fraction of her face now twisted into anguish. The urge to comfort her was overpowering, but my feet refused to budge from the spot at the top of these steps. I could only watch as she looked back up at me, eyes filled to the brim with an emotion I didn't have the required degree to describe.

"Do you want to talk inside?" I choked out, hardly able to hide the hurricane of feelings tearing me apart from the inside.

The mere handful of seconds she took to answer, the blatant hesitation that flashed across her face more impactful than a bullet to the chest.

"Okay," was all she elected to say.

I kept myself busy in the kitchen, fixing the both of us something to eat from the fridge. It was the only time I'd get to think alone before I sat across from her at the table.

But I couldn't keep myself from glancing at the phone, my thoughts overpowered by the safety net of option one every time my eyes happened to drift toward it.

The sound of screeching tires followed by a loud bang just outside the house had me rushing to the front windows only to find Taylor already standing there, peering through the blinds. I slowly approached the window next to her to see what had happened.

The scene of a car wrapped around a fallen telephone pole almost knocked the wind out of me, but I managed to pull myself together enough to step outside.

"Be careful," Taylor called out as I walked onto our front porch. I didn't respond, more focused on the man crawling out of the wreckage, dangerously close to a wire drooping toward the street.

I didn't waste time running toward the wreckage, making sure to stay very clear of the car and telephone pole as I crouched next to the man. His face was bleeding and bruised, but nothing else seemed to be out of place.

"Hey, you alright?" I asked as I dragged him away from the telephone pole and across the street, not needing to worry about traffic, as cars had stopped in their tracks to watch the spectacle.

"They swerved into me…" the man almost slurred. "My brakes…"

"It's going to be alright, just stay awake for me alright?" That was all I could say, not really able to make sense of what excuses he was trying to make.

"Call 911!" I shouted at the nearest bystander, watching them fumble with their cell phone for a couple of seconds before they finally dialed the number.

The man beneath me reached for my hand, his mouth gaping open and closed like a fish on land. Before I could move to check his breathing, he choked out, "…My son."

I felt my heartbeat tick up a couple of dozen beats per minute as my head whipped upward toward the car just in time to see the telephone pole dip and my daughter rush out the door.

She jumped from the porch to the sidewalk in a single bound, barely touching the ground to take a breath before she took off toward the wreckage, uncaring of or just not noticing the telephone pole falling toward it.

"Taylor!" I shouted as the wooden post crumbled, feeling my voice strain painfully as it echoed down the street.

I watched the scene in slow motion. Taylor reached for the door handle all the while live wires slithered through the air, inching downwards with a promise of absolute agony or instant death. It all culminated in an instant; the car door swinging open, the telephone pole smashing into the roof, and Taylor diving into the car all at the same time.

I heard someone scream, I didn't care. Someone shouted at me, it wasn't my concern. The electrical wires danced on the asphalt, it was a minor obstacle.

When I reached the car I immediately went for the door, throwing it open without a second of hesitation. I instantly saw Taylor lying in the backseat, her body covering a boy no older than eight. They were inches away from the indented ceiling that split the vehicle in half and even closer to a wire peeking in through the sunroof.

"Taylor!" I yelled as I reached for her, grabbing her as she began to move. Slowly, I helped her pull herself from the backseat safely as she held a sobbing boy in her arms.

We were met with claps and cheers as we stepped away from the wreck, I tried my best to ignore them as we moved across the street, setting down the boy next to his father and watching him rush to his side to be embraced.

It was only now I heard sirens approaching; a firetruck that eventually came to a stop several meters away with an ambulance close behind.

I turned to my daughter, who in turn looked at me, unfamiliar eyes filled with emotion. It wasn't long before I found myself snatching her up in a hug, pinning her arms to her sides as she visibly stiffened from the action. Though it wasn't long before she returned the gesture, burying her face in my shoulder all the while I squeezed her with all my might.

The tar slunk back into the depths of my mind, hopefully, to never return.

Sorry for such a short chapter after all that waiting. This was initially an entirely different interlude POV, but I scraped it in favor of this.

Man Danny is hard to fucking write, why didn't he trigger so I can just write him like every other conflict-driven Cape? Jokes aside I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I don't really see dialogue as my strong suit so constructive criticism is welcome so I can actually improve my writing.