Fleur's POV
Nobody truly knew what happened after somebody died.
It was a question as old as humanity itself. The ultimate question, some would say. Something science had no chance of answering. Something religions couldn't agree on, only that it was within the realm of faith.
Jess sat on the edge of a building and scoffed at the thought.
The truth was way more boring than anybody would have thought.
If anybody could see the woman, they'd be rightly concerned. Wearing sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt, the black haired woman was sitting right at the edge of a four story building, legs hanging over the edge.
Gunfire went off in the distance, and Jess barely reacted as she revised her thoughts. Maybe they wouldn't be concerned. This was Brockton Bay after all.
Brockton Bay everybody, at its finest. The place where gang violence was the primary import and export.
She let out a heavy sigh, looking around gloomily.
It was hardly the best of views, but Jess couldn't muster the energy to find a better one. An apartment complex with graffiti pronouncing Empire 88 territory. Why bother with something different? It would just be owned by another gang.
Jess stirred from her lethargy as a group of thugs walked out of the building, shoving each other and laughing at each other. An organized outing. Out to commit some crime or other no doubt.
None of them looked up. Even if they had, they wouldn't have seen the merest glimpse of her. And it certainly wasn't because of her amazing stealth skills.
Jess felt her outrage warring against her lethargy and depressed thoughts briefly before promptly losing the battle, causing her to slump over.
Why bother? Not like I can do anything about it.
Once, she'd never imagined she would ever be this apathetic. Once, she was known as the hero 'Fleur' - a proud member of New Wave.
And then she was murdered.
If one were to take a closer look at the figure sitting on the edge of the building, they'd start to note the discrepancies. Perhaps that she didn't cast a shadow. The blood on her shirt, a constant reminder of her assault. Her transparent form.
Not that anybody could see her to make these observations besides other ghosts anyways.
Seven years of death, and here she remained. A pathetic shade, cursed to observe and never again participate.
And she wasn't the only one.
She hadn't really believed in ghosts when she was alive, but the stories she'd heard said that they usually stuck around when they had unfinished business, right? No, for reasons she couldn't figure out, every Parahuman that died became one ghost, whether it was in battle or natural causes. And it was only Parahumans. In her seven years of spirithood, she had yet to come across a regular human ghost.
Or maybe regular humans do become ghosts, and we can't see each other. After all, living people couldn't see her.
It made as much sense as anything else. But a part of her kinda hoped they had a different fate. Anything would be better than this constant ennui, of helplessness and frustration. Nobody deserved it.
I don't deserve it.
The first year or so after her death, Jess had tried to do… Something. Anything. She'd compiled a list of important caches, who was being bribed amongst the police, connections, abilities…
But as time had moved on, so too had her diligence.
No matter what she did, how hard she tried, nothing made a difference. 'The dead cannot interact with the living'. Thus, nothing she learned could ever be used. And if she couldn't do anything with it… What was the point?
Diligence had given way to despair, which dropped to depression. Which was where Jess was currently languishing.
What were the phases of denial? How many till she reached acceptance? Clearly she hadn't gotten there yet.
Jess watched idly as the thugs walked away before she finally managed to force herself to care. Standing, she jumped off the four-story building without any fanfare, teleporting mid-air to appear right behind the group (there were some perks to not having a physical body), and followed along.
I must be a masochist. Or just stuck in the denial phase.
She was probably going to need to spend some time hanging around Victoria and Amy after this, she just knew it. Spending time with her honorary nieces always was the singular bright spot in her existence, even if they didn't know she was there.
And then she'd be back at it torturing herself by watching crimes that she couldn't stop.
Like right now!
The small group finally wandered into a 'mom and pop' convenience store, and the 'leader' walked in with the swagger of somebody young and self-important, while the others spread out.
"Hey old man, we're here for the monthly rent!"
Ah. Shakedown. Eh, could have been worse.
Still, Jess's hands itched for her to do something, even if this crime was relatively mild compared to their usual fare. She was just so, so frustrated, so tired of seeing so much crime and being unable to do anything about it! She wanted to fight!
The fire faded, experience already telling her it was pointless.
Jess wandered aimlessly in the street for a bit. There were people in the street, but they kept their heads down and quickly shuffled along. A few might have called the cops, but she doubted they'd get here in time, what with how most of them were corrupt.
… Ok, that was unfair of her. Only a quarter were corrupt. The rest were mostly scared of the gangs. The end result was the same though.
As she paced, she could hear a little of what was happening inside the store. Which… Was a lot of groveling on one side, and a lot of braggadocio on the other. Not too exciting. Maybe she should -
"Hey, who's this old man? Your daughter or something?"
Jess's head snapped towards the store once more as a girl screamed, abruptly being cut off, replaced as the thugs jeered and cheered their leader on. She heard the unmistakable sound of a punch, followed by laughter.
'Scum.'
This was the sort of thing the dead had to get used to. Seeing and not being able to do anything about it. Jess was already grieving for whatever would happen to that poor girl when somebody next to her (somebody alive) took a deep breath.
"C-could you stop them?"
It took Jess several seconds before she realized the girl was staring in her direction.
… No, she was staring at Jess.
Somebody was addressing her.
Jess's heart jolted "Y-you, you can you see me?"
The girl didn't answer, glancing at the store briefly before looking back at Jess, meeting her eyes, and that was an answer in and of itself.
"You can," Jess breathed, eyes wide in disbelief as her entire world view was shattered. "But, but how?!"
She was a teenager, that much Jess could determine. Maybe the same age as Amy? She was wearing a hoodie and jeans that hid most of her body, but Jess would guess she was on the thin side. She had lengthy black hair, and the glasses she was wearing framed wide, brown eyes
Eyes that were sizing her up in return.
"That doesn't matter." The girl insisted, and Jess noted the steel forming behind the gaze. And if they had time, Jess could go on a whole lecture on why it mattered quite a bit. "Can you stop them?"
"I-uhm" Ok, normally she was much faster on the draw with these types of things, but she was having a bit of a crisis! "Yes." Jess finally wrangled her thoughts into something resembling order. "Or, I could. Would. If I were alive. But I'm not."
Eyes that were judging her as much the reverse. "If you could, would you?"
"Yes."
That wasn't even a question.
The girl bit her lip. "I haven't done this before… I'm sorry, but, uh..." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Please go and stop those men." she pleaded in a low voice, and touched Jess on the shoulder.
Jess couldn't describe the feeling. The touch alone was monumental enough - not that it was anything special, but she hadn't experienced the touch of another person in so long, a part of her wanted to cry.
An energy trickled through her thoughts, and with a shudder, her appearance changed. The clothes she perished in shifted to a costume she never thought she'd see before, a flower symbol on her chest with petals stretching out.
Jess felt, truly felt, the muscles beneath her uniform tense. The feeling of her uniform against skin, the weight of her utility belt.
Disbelief warred with joy within her. A foreign feeling of surprise, followed by pure delight, and she felt her power return to her, gasping at the feeling of pure light sparking at her fingertips.
And before she knew it, Jess was moving, her mind and body in sync.
A hand reached into a pouch at her side and withdrew several balls. A single touch of her fingertips, her power leaping to her command with an eagerness it hadn't ever before, and each had a little glowing flower on them.
With so little charge time they wouldn't do much damage, but they made great flash grenades.
The thugs cried out in shock as the balls hit the store floor, and Jess charged into the store. Three thugs, one leader, the store owner, and one teenage girl.
The store owner was irrelevant. The Thugs were in various positions around the small store. Thug Leader was next to the register, restraining the girl, where it looked like he had been kissing her.
Now, they were all looking at the store front, blinking stars out of their eyes.
"Hey! Who are you?" One of the thugs grunted, all of them pulling out baseball bats.
They didn't bother running. Why would they? They didn't recognize her. As far as they could tell, she was a newbie.
Who was she?
For the first time in seven years, she truly felt she could answer that without feeling like a lie. She was Fleur, of the Brockton Bay Brigade.
She was a hero.
And she no longer had to stand aside.
In an instant, she was next to the leader. With a quick movement, she kneed the idiot in the crotch, twisting his arms as he crumpled and forcing him to let go of the girl while pushing the girl back.
The idiot dropped with a choked whimper.
One down.
The closest thug swung his bat at her, eyes squinting. Fleur nimbly dodged, snapping a hand to brush against it.
When the thug drew the bat back there was a glowing flower on it, and with a thought it detonated.
The resulting explosion was small with practically no charge time, yet it was large enough to blow up the bat and toss the boy on the ground, and she was instantly on him, zip tying his hands.
Fleur had no idea how her equipment came along with her, but she wasn't complaining.
Two down.
Fleur charged the next thug, who had swapped out his bat for a switchblade. Getting into a clumsy stance, he stabbed at her.
Could she still feel pain? What would happen if she was stabbed? Fleur shook the thoughts out. It was something to worry about later.
Fleur just shifted out of the way of the clumsy strike, grabbing his extended arm and flipping him. As he landed with a pained grunt, she restrained him as well.
Three down.
Leaping up, she looked around for the fourth thug, and saw him running out the door.
… Four down?
Fleur breathed out, looking between the thugs and ensured they were down before glancing at the store owner. "You, call the police." She ordered as she started going through their pockets, making a small pile containing their weapons and wallets.
The man was about to protest until she shot him a look. "O-ok,"
"After that -" a shiver went down her spine, and Fleur saw her fingers begin to turn transparent once more, a feeling like ice crawling along her skin.
Oh. Already?
'… please go and stop those men'
The men were now stopped, and her task was done.
"Just… If anybody asks, just say a random hero came and helped, ok?" Fleur demanded, looking between the girl and the store owner.
The two looked confused, and Fleur grit her teeth. "Please."
The feeling of ice had crept up to her shoulders now.
"What's going on here?"
The familiar voice caused Fleur to stiffen, with the desire to bury her head into her arms.
Why now? Fate was so cruel…
Victoria, Glory Girl, walked into the store and looked around with a frown, stance ready. "Who are you?" She asked cautiously.
She could turn around right now and talk to her honorary niece. To leave some kind of message. She wanted to, so so badly. And yet, feeling the ice that was up to her chest, Fleur knew she couldn't. If this was only a one-time thing, it would just be cruel.
What did it look like? Was she just fading away from the other's perspective?
Fleur cursed Vicky's timing, and kept her head determinedly facing the other direction. "Just a Good Samaritan is all."
There was a beat of silence, and Fleur felt the edges of Vicky's fear aura, followed by a growl. "I don't know who you are or why you're here, but it's in very bad taste to dress in the outfit of a dead hero." Victoria snapped with barely restrained anger, steps marching closer.
Ah, a hero's suit was fairly distinctive, wasn't it?
The cold finished creeping over her just as a hand closed around her shoulder. and once again she was simply wearing the clothes she died in.
"Wha-?"
Victoria darted forward, moving through Jess as she looked around in confusion.
"Sorry, Vicky." Jess said in a quiet voice, taking in a shuddering, and unneeded, breath, completely missing at how Glory Girl spun towards her.
Jess was already turning and moving out of the store.
People were gathering around the store now, cameras out and paying attention now that there was a hero around, and Jess scoffed at the change in attitude.
The girl was no longer there. Even after levitating up a couple dozen feet, Jess couldn't see any sign of the black-haired girl in either direction. She quickly flew up and down the street several times with the same result.
Instead of being disheartened like she probably should, Jess felt a sense of joy. Part of it was probably due to the fight she just had, but the majority of it?
For the first time in six years, Jess had a goal.
Author's Note:
In this particular idea, Taylor's power is to see and command ghosts of capes. It's an ability she's terrified over, since the only other two people that have had abilities related to ghosts are both supervillains and insane. That, and she's worried at what people will think if they knew she could Master ghosts.
As usual, I'd like to thank those who are currently supporting me on pa tr eon; For anybody that is interested or would like to support me, the link to that page is P a treon . com (slash) shdowstep. (remove the spaces). It's not necessary - everything I post on there will eventually be posted here as well - but I am extremely grateful for the support.
As always, let me know what you guys think!