1.0

Robin was tired.

He was sore.

He was hungry.

Above all else, he was bored and annoyed.

Patience had never been a strong suit of his, what with having a fairly decent Mover rating and a disdain for rigid structure. You could say that patience was, perhaps, the area he needed the most work on when it came to his competence as a hero.

But could you blame him?

He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep. Or maybe to get a shower, stuff himself with the cheapest, greasiest take out food he could order with this month's bonus, and then sleep off the food coma and the hangover that he'd likely accrue before the night was over.

And to be fair, he wasn't the only one.

'High spirits for once.' Everyone, from the few members of New Wave who showed up, to the villains who carpooled with them to Canberra seemed more energized and upbeat than he'd expected. It was strange that everyone was on the same page, even though they all should all be anything but.

After all, the star of the show was coming home with them.

And none of them knew what to think of her.

Least of all Velocity.

Fontaine was off to the side talking with some of the Guild members as they prepared to depart. One of them, a young boy in a Tinkertech diver suit, seemed to receive the bulk of the attention, while Narwhal kept watch and what looked like one of Dragon's suits sitting by the wayside. The woman herself hadn't come to Canberra, she never did come personally to Endbringer fights, usually helping evacuating civilians and other errands while using her autonomous suits to help them fight.

'Actually, didn't a briefing mention she's an extreme agoraphobe? I recall that was after… Saint Dragonslayer? The Saint? The assholes who keep stealing her gear tried to crack open her base. Poor lady. That must really be Hell. Good on her for still helping where she can.'

She probably wanted to get a closer look at the hydrokinetic. Really, a lot of people had wanted to shake hands or talk to the teenager who somehow was the most important piece of their miraculous victory.

Right now there was an Australian cape, a red haired Tinker in a suit of heavy duty powered armor, laughing and smiling while ribbing Nautille. All while they spoke with the leading lady.

And wasn't that a punch in the gut.

A teenager defeated an Endbringer.

A teenager was allowed to fight a monster not even the strongest heroes in the world had managed to meaningfully beat in the past, yet somehow she was the deciding factor. Even now, Velocity hoped that she was one of those people who sounded younger than they really were.

He really didn't want to face the reality that they were desperate to the point of letting children into battle.

'That ship has sailed now.' It had a long time ago, if he was being completely honest, even if he was just now acknowledging that fact. 'Wards don't get to fight S classes. But she's not a Ward.'

And that was the truth.

The PRT and the Protectorate were struggling to hold Brockton Bay together. Lung had been a constant threat to their authority. The Empire had wormed its way through every institution of their home. And people like Coil and Skidmark were just more shit on top of the pile.

Fontaine? She'd cleared out Lung and the ABB.

And she looked all of a tall fourteen or fifteen year old. Standing there in a costume that wasn't quite properly fitting, a water echo shrouding her from harm, more than one person keeping a wary eye on her even though she'd been confirmed not to be a Ziz bomb. Even then, she hadn't picked up on the paranoia and tension that had lingered in the camp while she was unconscious. At least until Eidolon himself vouched for her.

That had actually calmed down pretty much everyone.

But he remembered how about two dozen people had been tense, paranoid that the Hero of Canberra would wake up and start killing people. And he thanked God he hadn't been one of them.

Still, Robin couldn't help himself.

"Hey, Fontaine."

Turning to look at him, she seemed lost for a moment before realization sunk in.

"You're… Velocity?"

"Glad you remember. Say, if you want to, you're more than welcome to go home with us."

He walked over when she made her excuses to the Guild heroes and jerked his head toward the Brockton Bay group. Even Hookwolf showed her a great deal of respect by simply nodding his head as she approached.

"Uh… sure."

Standing there, awkwardly, she looked even younger and more unsure of herself. And he realized she wasn't wearing her original costume, either. Or at least not the top half. Instead wearing a yellow and blue blouse and cravat.

"What did they wanna talk about?"

He was genuinely curious, after all, Narwhal and Dragon could be said to be the foremost representatives of the Guild. Talking to them was akin to talking to the upper management of the PRT.

"They wanted to make an offer."

Whistling appreciatively, he tried not to lay it in too thickly.

"That's gotta be, what? The third offer today?"

She sighed, shuffling in place.

"Try tenth. I think everyone wanted to ask something or pitch some idea the moment they knew I was up." Which probably wasn't interesting to discuss after you had driven yourself to exhaustion fighting an Endbringer. He wouldn't be in the mood to talk business after running a marathon either.

"Anything interesting?"

At that she seemed pensive.

"Well, someone wanted me to have a video conference with the prime minister. I think one of the hero teams offered to house me if I wanted to stay. And I think some kind of prince tried to have a video conference with me but the signal was awful so it got called off."

He whistled appreciatively. Those were some heavy hitters showing interest, and a lot of money probably on the line too. Before, he could have imagined the hydrokinetic getting offers by people, not many because of the entire stigma of involving parahumans in business.

And then she went and blasted Ziz into low orbit.

Whatever sense of caution people had was thrown to the wind at the idea of a Triumvirate-level cape being available for hire. Not just in the US, but there would be likely all sorts of people willing to bite that bullet in exchange for the security that power brought.

Not all of them would be nice about it, but those sorts wouldn't dare act out with these many heroes around Fontaine. Of course, that wouldn't keep teams like the Guild, the Protectorate, or locals from trying to see whether she would be interested in moving.

He had a feeling their own superiors would be asking them to make more overt attempts at that soon.

"You got everything?" Nodding towards the bag at her side, he was unsurprised when she winced.

"Yeah. Pretty much." Fontaine glanced back to where people were celebrating, the noise of the party still audible. Fireworks were even going off in the distance. "Are they, well, uh, this isn't usual, is it?"

Velocity chuckled, he couldn't help himself.

"Afraid not. But it's nice." Looking out over the city, he felt a pang of something bitter in his stomach. "You can stay, you know." His coworkers turned to him, a variety of expressions, though mostly surprise, clear as day on their faces. "Brockton Bay… you don't have to go back, if you don't want to."

She could be a hero, see the world, live like a bandit queen. Anything at all she desired. Fontaine didn't have to return to the East North East.

"No." The young woman gave him a sad smile. "I want to. It's still home."

He nodded.

"Then we only have a few minutes. Strider's just getting ready for the next batch of transports. Man needed a small break."

"I can imagine."

"Don't enjoy the fast travel?"

Her grumble had been palpable and he couldn't help but ask.

"Trying to figure out how to beat me?"

That got a snort. After the show she put on against an Endbringer, that was probably the furthest thing from their minds.

"Nobody likes sudden, violent movement. But he's usually pretty smooth. So no. Just curious, I guess."

Clearly hesitant to reveal her powers or anything about them, but also seemingly willing to speak, he simply gave her a moment to figure out what she wanted to share.

"It's the feedback." She gestured at a nearby water tank. "I can sense water with range affecting clarity. Moving like we did to get here is… unpleasant. In the extreme."

He gave a sympathetic nod.

"Entirely understandable. Still, you did a damn fine job today. Any plans for when we get back to the Bay?"

That earned Robin an eye roll.

"Now I know you're scouting me for the Wards."

"Not quite." He chuckled. "I was wondering if you were going to continue the, ah, ritual you'd established. Or if we were going to be receiving a little less heads up in the future."

"Oh! No, um, well, I don't have any plans…."

"Fair enough. Still, if you don't mind, the calls are quite appreciated. And will be even more now, I suspect. Consider that a request from a grunt."

"Gotcha. So, if it's ok, could I ask about-"

"Brockton Bay, you're up next!"

Whatever she was going to ask was lost and Velocity couldn't help but be annoyed at the announcer. But he did give Fontaine a nod and clustered up with the others, Strider popping into appearance, seeming a little ragged, but giving everyone a light smile.

"Ok. Next stop, East Coast USA."

And just like that, they were gone, popping in and out of reality as they stuttered to the opposite side of the planet. Reality becoming little more than a series of snapshots, existing for less time than it took to blink. Only to flicker away before Robin could take a breath without his power.

He took great care not to use his power in moments like these.

Seeing what happened between the blinks was not something he was interested in.

"Fuck."

Fontaine, upon their arrival, bent over at the waist. Hana, realizing the girl was vomiting, pulled her hair back as Fontaine spewed a disgusting mixture of water, bread, and stomach acid to the side of the group. Pointedly, the heroes looked away, happily pretending that nothing was happening. Privacy, real or pretend, was a small thing to offer to one of their own.

"Really? It's fuckin' airplane sickness that makes you blow chunks? Shit, after what you did to Lee, I'd thought you were a stone cold killer, kid."

Hookwolf was much less polite.

"Bite me, fleabag."

Managing to respond, despite looking rather green, Fontaine spat to clear her mouth and gathered water from the air.

"Hah! Maybe I will. We're gonna have to settle this, you know? Unless you want to join the Empire? We could rule the state, kick these asswipes out of town."

And just like that, things had gotten serious.

"No. No way am I joining the other major group of assholes shitting up the place."

Velocity barely had time to take in the dilapidated, but familiar, state of Captain's Park when things had already gotten rather tense.

"You sure? We won't go easy on yah 'cause you're a kid. And I ain't exactly eager to kill a girl. Especially after a show like that."

Just giving the blonde a wan smile, the teenager replied with an utter deadpan.

"Go big or go home."

And promptly spat up again.

"Hahahahahaha! Aww, shit, girlie. Maybe you should think about joining the Wards, then. Being a villain isn't for the soft sort."

By now the others had clearly moved to block the small contingent of Empire capes from Fontaine, but the shirtless villain simply gave them a dismissive shake of the head and walked away.

Velocity had only one thought about the situation.

'Sometimes the truce is rather annoying.'

Because he'd rather like to crack that idiot's skull open right about now.

Taylor couldn't leave the PRT headquarters fast enough.

Between the nausea, the annoying sniping between the heroes and villains on the way back, and the existential dread of knowing you were a few months away from getting killed by your own powers, the young woman known as Fontaine was quite eager to dive as deep underwater as she could to have a nice, calming screaming session.

But that might actually scare the fish, so she settled for taking the long way home so she could process things.

It was late out, early evening, technically, but dark. So late. And she was a touch surprised at just how many street lights were currently working. Damn near all of them, in fact. But perhaps that was as much to do with where she was as anything else.

Maybe come up with a nice excuse to give to her dad as soon as she got back home. Because he was sure to be worried after she didn't come back at the usual time. And without a cellphone he was probably working himself up into a tizzy waiting for her.

By the time she'd reached the Bay proper, the roads were more familiar. Weeds poking out of cracks, every other street light buzzing loudly as insects fluttered about the light. One whole street just looked dead.

"Hey, hey, he-"

Some group of drunk, rough looking men called out to her.

Taylor manifested a shark mid-air. The crack of water shattering the false-stillness of the night as it turned into a snarling monster.

Maybe they were just idiots who thought she was the sort of girl who was interested in that sort of thing. Maybe they were something else entirely. Whatever they were, they were running away, screaming as her shark chased them for a while and she… tried to figure out what she would say to her father.

She just didn't have the mental energy for an argument right now.

Starting the day going to another country, volunteering to go to an Endbringer fight, fighting said Endbringer, and then being told in the aftermath that he had been very close to dying and might still die anyway in a few months because she overdid it?

That was too much for anyone.

Her shark returned to her much diminished, Fontaine having released most of the water making up its mass, and gave the construct a stroke under its not-quite-real chin.

'And for once, I don't even have someone to give a second opinion.'

Having silence inside her own head for once felt… weird. Focalors had always been there, in the back of her mind, willing to make her opinions known at the drop of a hat. Maybe a little too willing for Taylor's taste, but now that she actually could have done with some company, she was left alone to stew in her thoughts.

It had taken a bit more than a month for that annoyance to become familiar.

Almost as familiar as boarded up windows and broken glass.

Part of her felt resentful that there hadn't been a magical transformation of the city. Part of her understood, intellectually at least, that the Boat Graveyard was a symptom more than a cause of Brockton Bay's trouble. It had taken years to get to the point that man blew up a cargo ship, or at least sunk it, and it would probably take years to just start climbing out of the hole they were in.

'Six months to live, huh?'

Or to find a way out.

Focalors seemed confident they might find a way to extend that, but Taylor couldn't help but feel a lump of ice drop in her stomach as she agonized over the deadline.

Was there really a way to fix this?

She really hoped there was, or else she was gonna have to speed through her plans to improve Brockton Bay by a wide margin. Stopping and not doing anything, even when she knew her powers came with a problem, didn't mean she was going to stand by and stop working and fixing her home.

If she had to drag them into it, then she would.

As she stood on the edge of a walkway, overlooking the sharp, rocky, weedy beach there was at least some movement out at sea. Small ships nestled in the protection of the slightly more lit up docks.

Probably just overflow from Boston.

Probably.

Turning away and deciding it was time to go home, she meandered until she found a lit bus stop and checked her pass. Making sure it hadn't been damaged in everything she'd been through.

"It's gonna be a busy couple of months." She sighed, leaning against her seat as she waited on a bus to pick her up. She still felt a bit queasy from the teleportation, and hungry from all the flying around and fighting she did.

If she had the time she might've stayed at Canberra for the victory party they were gonna throw. Apparently what had happened had been more of an impromptu thing and they were going to officially throw down later. She knew at least a few dozen capes were gonna stay, Nautille apparently meeting an Aussie girl at that. But being out for this long was already gonna get her grounded.

She didn't want to add to the sentence.

The bus itself was… warm. Not clean, clean. But there was no vomit. Just the smell of stale sweat and too many body sprays canned up in old metal. Familiar.

Her nose still itched.

Home, though, had been just four stops away, the driver only checking once if she was sure a girl like her - wearing the very upmarket clothes she'd been given by Narwhal - wanted to get off in a place like this. She just gave the older black man a very forced smile and mentioned that her father lived here.

Letting him assume that her wealthier mother had given her these clothes, a polite suggestion offered up by Focalors before they'd left Australia, back when Taylor had absolutely panicked about what she'd tell her dad and it was her turn to be comforted, she got off with an understanding nod.

It was only nine in the evening, after all.

Hardly an unreasonable time.

If you hadn't left early in the morning, that is.

Unfortunately, the ride home didn't take nearly long enough for Taylor to stamp down on her anxiety, and she briefly considered going for a walk around the neighborhood before coming to the conclusion that it would only be delaying the inevitable.

Dad wasn't going to sleep until she was back and she wouldn't put him through any more worry than she had to. Especially after everything that happened today. So it was with a heavy heart and a stomach full of lead that Taylor marched her way to her front door.

The front steps creaked under her feet as she climbed up them.

Fingers fumbling as she stiffly reached for her keys and unlocked the door with a click that was heard around the world.

The door groaned, and it might as well have sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Stiff, leaden steps lead her deeper into the house, the faint light of the kitchen bathing the rest of the house in a soft orange light in contrast to the chilly shade of the house. More importantly, however, was the figure sitting by the dining table, hunched over a mug and a half eaten bowl of noodles.

Bracing herself, Taylor walked over, convinced she was ready for anything.

"Hey dad, I- "

"Had a good time in Australia?"

Taylor… had nothing to say. Nothing came to her, no sudden impulse to bawl, nothing. Not even what she'd discussed with Focalors. All the excuses and clever stories and circular arguments she put together in order to get away with saving Canberra.

Being faced with the truth had a way of knocking the wind off her sails.

"Not… really."

"Yeah. Dumb question. Come on in."

Her throat felt like it was swelling closed as she shut the door, carefully locking it behind her.

"Got some tea, let me heat it."

Slowly walking into the kitchen, she found a few things. Her father, looking rather disheveled even from behind, several mostly full boxes of chinese food, and an old photo album.

"You, uh, you looked good. Your mom's old riding clothes fit you well." He sounded… fragile. Taylor decided, at that moment, she did not like her dad sounding that way. "Sorry we never had the chance to take you horseback riding. You enjoyed it at summer camp at least, right?"

She still didn't know what to say.

What could she say that wasn't awfully weak?

"I'm sorry. But they got torn up a bit."

Danny Hebert paused, holding a steaming kettle mid air.

"Did… did you get… hurt?"

He sounded terrified. As if he'd turn around and see her standing there, little more than bloody tatters.

"No." It wasn't a lie. She wasn't hurt or hurting. Just on the clock. "I'm fine, dad."

"I saw some of the videos. It took a little while but everyone started talking about Canberra and the fight. The quality was bad but… well… it looked like a mess and I could barely make out what was happening."

Yeah, 'mess' pretty much described what happened there.

"When did you-"

"Find out? I didn't really know, at least, I guess I was suspicious after seeing the pictures. You… look a lot like your mom. I thought I was being crazy, anyone could have clothes like that. Anyone could have that hair and stand like her." He put a fresh steaming mug in front of her.

"So I had to check. I turned the house upside down looking for those. I put everything back together, but when I couldn't find it I knew something was up."

Because they didn't throw out anything that belonged to mom.

"Sorry, um, it got torn."

He waved her off.

"I'll just, I dunno, mail the bill for it to that bird woman. I guess Annette wouldn't care if her clothes got ruined, so long as it was for a good cause. Helping a town like that, the way you did. She would've been…."

"Proud?"

Dad sighed.

"Terrified. I think she'd be yelling at you right now if she could."

Oh. Yeah, she definitely wouldn't have been happy. Still, hearing about her, thinking about her made the knot in Taylor's stomach unwind ever so slightly as she sipped from the tea and steeled her nerves.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I was trying to think of a way, really. But things at the Union have been busy lately. No thanks to a certain pile of ships sitting outside my window." Sitting across from her, dad leaned against his seat with a tired groan all the while giving her a look of exasperation.

"Ah, sorry. I thought it was the best choice."

"Oh, they are very happy about it. The mayor, not so much, but that means we've gotten a lot of work done that they have to pay us for if they don't want people to throw a fit. It's just a lot of busy work, and he keeps checking to see if there hadn't been demands. Someone might have spooked him, I think."
She winced.

Yeah, that wasn't her finest idea.

"I can apologize?"

"Wait until we mail him the next invoice for payment at least."

She couldn't help, she snorted back a chuckle. The idea of her dad using the big bad villain who happened to be his daughter to extort payment from the local politician being too much for her.

"Also, you're grounded."

Yeah, she expected that.

"For a month."

She frowned. Maybe that part she wasn't as happy about.

"I can't just vanish, you know." There was a lot she had to do, and that didn't even get into the whole problem with her powers. God, where was Focalors when she needed to win an argument?

"I know I can't stop you from helping out even if I wanted to, but you do need to take it easy. And you're not going to do it unless you have a reason so here it is. You're grounded, no more fighting city killing monsters or serial killers."

Taylor paused.

"Well, uh, there are a few… issues."

Her dad panicked a little.

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you already agree to fight more Endbringers!?"

Taylor, frustrated and worried and maybe feeling a little guilty, simply gave her dad a hug.

"No. I did not. But I do want to."

His arms wrapped around her, almost crushing her when he pulled her tight. Her dad's breathing sounded a little labored, his heart was practically slamming into his ribs, and the kitchen table had been pushed away when he stood up and pulled her close. All she could do was squeeze back, letting the moment pass.

"I was afraid of that. I was so, so afraid of that."

He was panicked.

Taylor could tell she'd probably actually crossed the line here. Because when he sat down, he looked stubborn. And she knew she was feeling stubborn.

"I watched you get knocked out of the sky!"

"I was fine. Things just got intense."

"Eidolon caught you."

"And I told him thank you for that."

"Ziz killed hundreds of people! I watched a guy get ripped in half and you caught one she sent flying."

"Even then it wasn't close to hurting me." Well, it wasn't close because she had dodged in time. But that was semantics.

"It?"

"Ziz… isn't a person. More like a construct. A monster really."

"I… I suppose that makes sense, but how do you know that?"

"My powers said so. And I thought you said you only watched a few videos!"

He pulled back and looked down at her, suddenly a little ashamed.

"Some videos. The news on the TV. I may, uh, have called a few people, too."

She just sighed and pulled him close.

'I'm being very huggy today.' Because that was, unfortunately, the only thing she could do.

As it turns out, you can't just punch emotional problems away.

"How about this, dad. I'll let you know when I'm going to do something silly and you promise not to panic watch things until after I've called you and told you it's over?"

She already did it for the PRT. So what was another call?

"Taylor-" Danny paused. "You are my daughter. I cannot stop you from doing what you think is right." He paused again. "But that doesn't mean I'm not scared, or angry. Please, for the love of your mother, tell me before you do something. I'm begging you here."

"Ok." It was easy to agree. To give up a small thing, even if she rankled a little.

"I promise I'll tell you. But dad, I can't just not help. You know that, right?"

"No. Full stop. I don't. And I don't think I will ever understand why you, a fifteen year old girl, needs to run headfirst into gangs and city killing super monsters, when your biggest concern should be about finishing her homework."

Freezing, Taylor realized that this was what Focalors was talking about.

About critical moments and putting your cards on the table.

"So, about school. Uh, Winslow. I think, um, we need to talk about a few things."

And as it turns out, her dad really was holding his anger back. Because when she got to the bullying, well, she was frankly terrified he'd have a heart attack. And somehow that wasn't even in the top 3 list of things she probably should have told him.

But those were for another time.

For now, this was good enough. Because he wasn't mad at her anymore.