A/N: As with Monster's most recent update, this is in part to serve as an announcement of The Wild Hunt actually starting posting. This chapter is canonical, though!
Not long after one rescue, back on the hunt for the Nine
"Hey, what does love mean to you, Taylor?" I ask out of the blue one day while we're driving along. So sue me, these drives are long and boring, and Taylor is always hunched over that goddamn tinkertech monitor and its awkward-ass keyboard, ignoring me in favor of whatever online fuckery she pays attention to. Doesn't even mention what she's looking at or anything. Gotta come up with my own fun somehow.
"Whu." Yeah, not even a proper, complete word. A malformed attempt to say what, choked out probably not entirely intentionally. Taylor's soundscape is pretty thoroughly in line with that, kinda annoyingly discordant, so I don't think she's deflecting. I mean, my power has already proven less-than-fully-reliable on her, but I've yet to notice false positives on confusion. I give her a minute, in part because I'm busy merging into traffic, in part because I'm idly wondering if maybe I should mention the group of four people who are doing something shitty to a couple other people -it could be the Nine- off at the right edge of my range, but mostly because Taylor usually makes a good-faith effort to actually answer my questions instead of just ignoring me like fucking Guillame doe- did when he didn't feel like talking to me. And lo, my patience -and distraction- is rewarded when Taylor marshals herself into, of course, suspicion and paranoia because come the fuck on it's Taylor what else was her response going to be? "This is about the girl who hugged me, isn't it?" Taylor says in that expectant tone that means she's certain she's right and even more certain that being right is awful in this case.
I, meanwhile, draw a blank, distractedly stopping for a light because we're starting to enter the edges of... fuck, I've already forgotten the name of this tiny-ass city. I swear it began with a T. Whatever, what was I- right, girl who hugged Taylor, who wasn't me... Taylor clearly doesn't mean that hell hath no fury like an Emma scorned girl, something recent-ish I guess... girl who hugged Taylor... oh, wait, is she talking about the time with the slavers? Right! Right, yes, one of the girls hugged her out of gratitude afterward, right, that did happen. And Taylor thinks... okay, traffic is getting congested ahead on this road, thanks power, let's turn right here and hopefully bypass that mess, don't need Taylor seeing the cape fight and getting ideas... anyway, Taylor thinks... oh, she thinks I'm insinuating that girl was hot for her? Huh. "Nope," I say with a pop, because come on it's fun. "Like come on, if she had been crushing on you, do you think I would've come at this all obliquely?"
There's a pause pregnant with some kind of meaning I'm sure, I'm sorry but having an emotion-reading power helps less with that than you might think, I just know Taylor is getting all bitter and shit over whatever the hell she's thinking. Aw yeah, turning right paid off, the fight is going lefterly! Kinda unfortunate this seems to be the slum-ish part of this tiny city, but Taylor doesn't seem to notice that shit let alone get all worked up over needing to help people so whatevs. No bad smells coming in through the air conditioner, anyway, that's really all I care about. Then Taylor bitterly remarks, "No, you would've said my overwhelming masculinity was clearly winning over all the babes."
I startle at that, but manage to suppress the urge to look at Taylor in bewilderment. "Uh, okay, that... sure sounds like something I'd say, but I would never have in a million years guessed you'd be that spot on." Seriously, what the hell? Taylor is terrible at this people-person shit! Even with weeks of time with moi she's terrible at that shit, up to and especially including guessing what I'll do or say next!
Then Taylor catches me completely off guard by pointing out, "It's what you said when the gas station attendant liked me." My gaze jerks to her this time, she barks "Eyes on the road!" backed by that shocking burst of murderous rage she always has when insisting I drive safe, the asshole, and I re-focus on the road and my power. I'm awesome, so nothing close to an accident happened anyway.
It still takes me a few minutes to discombobulate myself enough to return to the conversation, not helped by some local flyer cape leaving me tense as they head almost directly toward us before finally... landing on a roof nearby or something? Pretty sure they're changing out of costume and returning to their ordinary job in an office or something, Clark Kenting this shit. Huh. Nobody did that in Toronto. I thought nobody did that outside of comics, period. Once that loses my interest, though... seriously? "You heard that?"
I vaguely see Taylor shrug out of the corner of my eye. "It was past midnight, it was just me and her in the store, and she turned away from me to grab... whatever it was I asked for. So I turned into the monster, and then I heard you talking to yourself." There's an unpleasant moment of silence while I frantically comb through what I can remember, desperately hoping that no other moments where I was sure Taylor couldn't hear me but might've actually been able to in light of this new info exist. I haven't specifically remembered any retroactively embarrassing memories of that sort before Taylor continues talking. "I'd meant to say something at the time, but then you mentioned the people we were following had picked up speed and we needed to hurry and it completely slipped my mind."
God. Fuck. I thought I hadn't said that aloud at the time. I was sure I was snarking in the safety of my own skull. I really need to push for more rest at some point, this pace is killing me, possibly literally. I was... in a haze at that point that night, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised my inside thought ended up outside without me noticing, but I'm still painfully embarrassed that Taylor heard me being bitter. On the plus side, I don't think she's noticed that was bitterness. I think she is taking it as me joking like jokesters do, which, uh, not ideal given she's still being sensitive about the girliness thing while refusing to do anything to be more girly fucking fuck, but hey she's been... much less nice when she thought I was flirting with her. I'm imagining her taking that -not entirely incorrectly- as me being bitter about all the competition, and my imagination is conjuring nightmare visions of the murdersquid's arms going in through my eyeballs and out the other side of my skull.
... possibly because I need more sleep damn you...
... but mostly because Taylor keeps being really hostile on that front.
So I'll take it!
Eventually I manage to work up the nerve -and stop having the excuse of stop-and-go-traffic to hide behind- to laugh more nervously than I'd prefer and say, "Wow, I'm amazed you remember that. That was, what, a month ago?"
There's an incredulous stretch of silence, where I'm pretty sure Taylor is staring at me like I'm crazy. I can't be sure because eyes on the road so I won't die (at Taylor's betentacled hands), but her 'scape sure sounds like she's baffled and confused by my statement. Eventually Taylor says, "You say that like... like that's a long time."
The light turns green and I forget for a solid second to hit the pedal, as my visceral confusion is immediately dogpiled by the intellectual confusion of remembering that Taylor doesn't sleep and so a couple months of memories for her is really more equivalent to three months of memories for a normal person so why the hell is her long-term memory not more full of fucking holes? Fuck, this is another power thing, she got super-memory too didn't she, that's totally it isn't it. And of course Taylor has no appreciation for what she's got-
Then the minivan behind me honks and I remember to hit the gas.
...
After three more lights while Taylor slowly becomes more annoyed, that goddamned horror movie string instrument ratcheting itself up to higher notes until it's hitting notes I don't think a human ear can actually hear but whatevs powers do that kind of shit, I decide fuckit I don't actually care and can we please go back to the original fucking question so I can pass the time in a low-key gossipy girl way with my girl friend who I would alternatively be happy to have as a girlfriend?!
"So!" I begin brightly, fake-smile-for-Pauline's-benefit pasted onto my face because I'm too brittle to do better fakery right now. "Now that we have clarified that no I'm not talking about that girl who hugged you, as I had in fact completely forgot that was a thing that happened, can we PLEASE return to the original topic?" I'm pretty sure my left eye is twitching, but Taylor can't see it so I don't care.
Naturally, Taylor is blandly confused, though at least her annoyance is leveling off for some damn reason. "There was an original topic?"
...
I lay my head down against the steering wheel for a moment, parked in front of an ice cream place. "We're doing ice cream."
Taylor stubbornly says, "We did lunch an hour ago," clearly meaning no fucking way.
I turn my head in my best horror movie manner to look her dead in the eyes. "We. Are doing. Ice cream."
Silence.
Half an hour later, I feel much better. Half a tub of strawberry ice cream does that to a girl. And at least one boy I messed with, but shhh.
Taylor, of course, was a party-pooper and initially insisted on not having any because lol she thinks an hour is too soon to be hungry again. We are growing girls you dumbfuck!
... Taylor blandly pointed out in that I'm dead inside voice that she's not entirely sure she is a growing girl anymore due to her power, and I very carefully did not think about the future implications for our possible relationship, instead insisting that cool mint is good for the soul.
I did not snark when she instead got the mint tea-flavored ice cream. Whatever the fuck that is.
Still! I feel MUCH. BETTER. After eating and not having stressful conversations! Aside that one but shut the fuck up I need this!
"So!" I begin brightly, eye twitching as the engine starts. "To return to the original topic!" I hit the gas and clutch at the steering wheel. "What does love mean to you?"
Taylor heaves a deeply put-upon sigh, but grudgingly goes along, possibly having picked up on my less-than-stellar mood. Or maybe it's because the makeup obscuring the bags under my eyes is not holding up at this point and she thusly noticed said bags. Either/or. "I really don't get why you, of all people, are asking me this. You once said 'love is just chemistry shit happening in the human brain'."
I mechanically take a left to avoid possible cape shit brewing up ahead, beyond our line of sight, trying to remember when I said that around Taylor. Like, yeah, that's a thing I've thought before, and said to some of the fam, and I'm pretty sure even said it to a couple of my let's-just-call-them-dates-for-simplicity's-sake, but I don't recall saying it to Taylor. But then I thought I hadn't said the other thing at all, certainly not where Taylor could hear it, so maybe this happened some other day I was sleep-deprived and possibly a bit manic? Which is, uh, basically every day since we left Brockton Bay... whatever, I give. "That sounds like something I'd say, but I honestly don't remember saying that to you? Around you? Whatever?"
Taylor snorts briefly, and hey she's mildly amused instead of angry with me I'll take that! (Should I act clueless around Taylor more? Does she find cluelessness amusing and/or attractive instead of fucking annoying like reasonable people? I've been kind of assuming no because I mostly got that shit off of let's-just-call-them-boyfriends-for-simplicity's-sake, and Taylor seems a practical sort of girl, but I'm not sure why she's amused right now...) After a minute of me contemplating whether it's too soon to start honking angrily at the literal little old lady in her ancient rusting junk car taking forever to get going in front of us, Taylor, audibly amused, remarks, "It was with the..." Embarrassment rises in her choir as she pauses, which immediately has a couple memories nagging at me as maybe being relevant, but before I can call them to mind she blurts out in a rush, "TheS&McoupleIthoughtwerearapeincident."
Oh! Oh, right, I did say that at the time. Taylor was muttering aloud to herself, honestly confused as to why anyone would want to do that let alone enjoy it, and I was in kind of a shitty, uncharitable mood because we'd just spent four hours roofhopping to get a closer look at what turned out to not even be supervillains, so I made a catty remark about love making people crazy and it's basically the same thing as a drug high, Taylor was kind of dubious on my interpretation, and I clarified that studies show love is like a chemical addiction, with cravings and withdrawal and so on and that shut her right the hell up and then I felt really fucking stupid. There's a reason pickup artists and shit run with things like the romanticized notion of love. You get into people's pants better if you make the act of them letting you in sound like a heavenly thing to do instead of a very banal and possibly slightly creepy act.
... admittedly I tend to forget because I cheat, but kind of the whole problem here is that I don't get to cheat with Taylor.
...
Wait, why does she remember that incident with amusement?
... crap, not enough data, and I don't really want to be asking about that particular incident because... well, for one thing Taylor might decide it's ~evil flirting~ and clam up.
Goddammit this is going to bug me.
The biddy in front finally decides that the literal nothing of traffic has been nothing long enough she's comfortable moving her car forward at maybe two kilometers per hour, and while I'm still tempted to vent my frustrations upon her, I'm also very aware Taylor's not entirely-sane sense of justice looks askance upon being mean to people who entirely deserve it if she doesn't feel it's so terrible as to merit murder.
Wait, is that why she's patient with me even though I'm a supervillain's daughter she started out very clearly Not Liking? I'm not so bad she must murder me, therefore she daren't be mean to me or else she might feel like the bad guy?
...
This is an interesting datapoint! And possibly slightly disheartening if I want to be a Debbie Downer like Taylor here, but honestly I think I'm mostly pleased to finally have an explanation for that? I've been perfectly happy to run with it once she actually let me aboard, but it has been lurking in the back of my head as kind of strange?
...
Ooooh, I should keep this in mind if it ever seems like expanding the team is a good idea! Assuming it's true, I might actually be able to get Taylor on board with recruiting someone fun, just gotta make sure they're not someone on her shitlist (By which I mean murder-list) and then, uh, hm. Not sure how I'd sell that. Taylor says punishment isn't her goal, talks a big game about reformation and whatnot when the topic comes up, but then her actual stratagem is mostly to kill the worst of the lot and let everyone else do whatever they're gonna do in response to the brutal murder of everybody over the line. This is not conducive to suggesting we recruit Tortureina so we can, like, seduce her to the good side or something.
Okay fine scrap that particular thought, but this is still interesting-
"So were you going somewhere with this, Cherie?" Taylor asks in that I'm-losing-interest tone she does that usually means she's about to focus back on her goddamn computer. Fuck, right, ice cream and all helped, but I'm still not with it.
Um, we were... right, right, girl talk! Love! What it means to Taylor! That shit! "Kinda sorta a little bit? Mostly I'd like something to focus on other than the driving, we're still hours away from looking for a hotel to sleep in, and you certainly aren't going to start a conversation."
Taylor has that peevish I-hate-that-you're-right-but-recognize-it-and-won't-give-you-shit-for-it reaction (God, I need a way to refer to it faster, it happens way the hell too much with her), and then sighs again before marshaling herself to give it a good faith effort. Probably. That's what it sounds to me like, anyway, but god I'm tired and I've been missing things and- "I've always thought of love as... um, it's a bit of a stereotype to say you love someone so much you'd die for them? Only I find that in particular kind of creepy-" No shit Sherlock. "-but you can kind of see how it's trying to express how far someone's willing to go for people they love. I've always thought of love as kind of like that, where you could go through thick and thin with the right person and look back and say it was all worth it."
I take a minute to process that, waiting for the light to turn green again, hoping whatever cape drama I'm overhearing a couple blocks away doesn't blow up before we're a bit further away. Like, not what I was expecting? I had this idea that Taylor would have the Disney princess image of love, all that shit about marrying a handsome dude who is also nice and conveniently rich (But you're not a gold-digger like the villainess, honey! It's totes different! Somehow!) with not a lot of substance to it. The romanticized, thoughtless vision of love, where one is rescued from the ills of the world and doesn't do a single damn thing to earn your own happiness.
My alternate expectation was that she'd talk about loving someone so much you'd kill for them, but I'm not sure how much that was a genuine expectation vs how much it was me wanting to take advantage of all the jokes that leap to mind. Taylor saying that would give me so many openings.
The light turns green, the cape drama seems to be winding down, and I get back to driving, mulling over Taylor's actual(ly stated) position. Like, that still sounds a bit of an idealized vision of love, but I'm not sure if it's idealized in the sense of being unrealistic or idealized in the sense that she's shooting for a high target. It makes me think of marriage vows, all the stuff about being there in sickness and in health, where there's the undertone that it's not love if you bail the instant the going gets even slightly tough.
But, like, part of what I'm not sure how to parse is how is that different from a really good friend? Actually, you know what, let's just ask, it can't hurt. (Actually, it can hurt, it can end in bloody screaming murder, this is Taylor, but shhhh, survival-oriented part of my brain, your opinion doesn't get a vote) "So how is that any different from just a really strong friendship?"
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Taylor's jaw working up and down as she clearly wants to instantly refute what I said as utterly ridiculous but can't actually come up with a refutation. Not entirely sure how to parse some of her confusion and other feelings thingies, but my impression is she started out assuming I was being deliberately an asshole and then concluded I meant it as a genuine question and now doesn't know how to answer? In addition to not having an actual answer on a fundamental level. Which is interesting, in the context of her 'best friend'. More points for 'you spurned your lover, Taylor, that's why she hates you'.
Eventually, while I'm considering whether going over the speed limit is worth it to put this shitty city behind us before any more cape drama develops, or too likely to get me in trouble, whether with Taylor or with the police or with a cape, Taylor comes up with something. I carefully up the gas as she talks, eyeballing through the rear-view mirror a cape rising into the air above the city, and consider raising the radio's volume. "Commitment."
I wait a minute for Taylor to expound on this singularly unhelpful and singular word, at least glad she hasn't noticed I'm about five klicks- excuse me, five miles above the speed limit, but it's not forthcoming before the cape in the air starts glowing enough to be visible through the rear-view mirror. Fuuuuck I don't like what I'm getting off of their mood. Way too nihilistic for my tastes. So, hoping to prevent Taylor from noticing the odd light reflecting weirdly through the front window, I ask, "Okay, commitment is kind of a vague thing to say," hoping Taylor won't inexplicably and incorrectly take this as a joke.
Fortunately, she doesn't seem to, moodily staring down at her monitor and keyboard, picking at the cable leading into the back of the truck. This is good, because it means she completely misses when the cape fires some kinda bolt of, I dunno, darkness or something? I'm not sure, it's kinda black with streaks of acid green. Looks cool as fuck, but I'm worried it's going to wipe out a good chunk of the city and more importantly get Taylor insisting we turn around and fight this rando ON TOP of still wanting to run down the Nine. The bolt lands, kinda, I guess? It sorta... stops, like a really long javelin hitting the ground, and then starts melting away toward the ground.
Incongruously, twenty seconds or so later, there's a violent bucking of the ground, and a half dozen people's signatures abruptly snuff out, which is honestly fewer than I'd have expected from that strike but whatever. Oh fuck oh fuck how do I get Taylor to not-
"Whoa. Earthquakes are scary."
-oh okay that works.
I nod vaguely. "Yep, but we're fine, everyone's fine, so can you get back to clarifying the commitment thing?" I'm pretty sure there's a manic edge to my tone. I'm also pretty sure it's just fine because there's often a manic edge to my tone these days, because I NEED SLEEP.
While I'm eyeballing the rear-view mirror, watching the broody angry nihilistic cape get into an aerial dogfight with what are probably tinkertech drones given I can't sense them, Taylor sighs again. "Seriously, why are you on this? You said you're not teasing me and you seem to actually mean it this time, but this is just such a weird conversation to be having while we're hunting the Nine." Exasperation, a bit of irritation, some impatience like she's wanting to... get back to her computer, maybe? Not sure.
Casually, still half-focused on the dogfight that shadowspike cape seems to be losing going by his ratcheting various forms of 'do not want', I point out, "Last we talked about this, you were thinking we'd hitch a plane to Europe the instant the Nine were handled and start hunting for those three hags. There was no talk of relaxing at a spa for a week to treat ourselves. When would we have a conversation like this, if you had your way?" I pause for a moment for effect, reasonably confident Taylor isn't going to have a good answer. I'm pleased when she's conspicuously silent and fidgety. "Never? Never." I gesture vaguely with one hand out ahead before remembering I'm trying to avoid Taylor noticing shadowspike cape, but fortunately she doesn't look up, probably trying to avoid any possibility of our eyes meeting. It's a thing with her when she thinks I'm right but doesn't want to admit it. Not sure why, but still. "So basically I can either insist on that sweet spa trip, or I can have relaxingly normal conversations while in the middle of murderous road trips."
I'm increasingly thinking I should insist on the spa trip, honestly, but the other way is my decision for the moment.
Taylor heaves another put-upon sigh, but plays along. Finally. "Okay, so... a best friend will be there for you, but you're not, like, joined at the hip. If one of you gets a job on the other side of the country, or something like that, you can still call each other for advice and emotional support, but you're not going to drop everything to help if your friend is in crisis mode in another state or country. People who love each other, to me, are... well, doing the marriage thing. Moving together or not at all, sharing successes and failures as a single unit, dropping everything to protect each other."
I'd call that devotion, not commitment, but okay. I nod vaguely at that, still watching shadowspike cape losing his fight -did he just lose an arm? Yikes- while also wondering if I should or should not point out to Taylor she's kinda heavily describing our current relationship. On the one hand, it's true. On the stabbing hand, Taylor is a violent, murderous cape, we are currently in a cramped space with nowhere to run, and Taylor's response to hearing things that are true but she dislikes admitting have trended heavily toward barely restraining herself from sudden, shocking violence. Or not restraining herself at all, as I've seen firsthand when it comes to some of the capes Taylor was especially disgusted by.
And Taylor has tended to not like it when she thinks I'm hitting on her or otherwise hinting at anything deeper than a working relationship or basic friendship.
... wait, is this also about that Emma girl? Don't let anyone too close so they can't betray you and shit?
Awww, shit. That might even explain why she's so hostile to flirting, if I'm right about their dynamic. Taylor might've recognized it on some level and so be hostile to such a relationship with a girl again, or might even have not picked up on it but only had this Emma girl flirt with her and so kinda recognize flirting as A Thing That Bitch Did without any deeper thought into the topic.
...
I'm calling Operation: Love Talk an unqualified success.
So long as shadowspike cape doesn't get Taylor's attention, anyway. Fuck, dude, die already! Fall out of the sky! Or give up, that works, you're plenty depressed enough! Goddamn it I'm so mad this is happening outside my zappy range but not far enough we can't see him. Also kinda mad the drones don't register to my power, I'd be able to get a clearer idea of how the fight was going with more datapoints. Come the fuck on, finish up or at least get out of my rear view mirror you f-
"So what about you?" Taylor asks.
I very coherently and intelligibly respond with, "Bluh?" So sue me, my attention is split between the road, the cape fight behind me, hiding my attention on the cape fight, and also this conversation. Plus, I thought Taylor would decide I was done and go back to her computer screen.
Fortunately, Taylor patiently clarifies, apparently recognizing I'm focused on the road and all. "I told you what love is to me. What is it to you?"
"Bullshit," pops out of my mouth before I've had the chance to properly think it through, too distracted and tired and all to PROPERLY FILTER MY THOUGHTS TAYLOR YOU FUCK I NEED REST.
... but then my mind goes to all of Daddy's devoted 'wives', who loved him so much they would do whatever he wanted without even bothering to ask why he wanted it, to how I've twisted, I dunno, a lot of people into loving me almost as much as the aunts loved Daddy, and it's like okay maybe my perspective is not entirely accurate? Only then what comes to mind is all my people-watching, where parents who had the warm-fuzzies for their spawn nonetheless beat them to within an inch of their lives and only temporarily felt bad about it, couples who had the warm-fuzzies for each other who nonetheless constantly jockeyed for position on who got to be the dominant asshole in the relationship, that one woman who poisoned her parents she loved very much because taking care of them was too much of a burden, and all the other shit I'm perpetually hearing in the background, and okay yeah powers distort things but love really does strike me as a load of shit.
... okay, but brain, I notice you've been a bit dead-set on getting Taylor to love you? Not just tolerate your presence and let you help her do awesome shit, but actually feel something in the vicinity of romantic love toward you. Hypocrite much?
Taylor intrudes on my dawning realization. "Uh, could you... expl-"
"Shut the fuck up Taylor I'm having an epiphany."
Surprisingly, she does, and with only mild irritation rather than the outrage I was expecting.
Okay! So there are, as I see it, and my opinion is the only one that counts so that means it's fact, two paths for me to go down!
The first path is I accept that I'm addicted to the bullshit chemical cocktail singing in people's brains known as love and need an unending string of hits like so many other hopeless druggies!
On a gut level, I hate this path.
The second path is I restructure my goals and expectations in light of this realization, whereby what I desire of Taylor is not for her to feel the warm-fuzzies at me, but to... have... um, a relationship of mutual respect? Fuck, I dunno.
On a gut level I like this path more, except for that teeny-tiny detail of HOW THE FUCK DO I ACTUALLY DO IT.
Also: WHAT THE FUCK DO I ACTUALLY WANT.
Because like apparently I've been wanting Taylor to have these warm-fuzzies at me even though I think they're complete bullshit, and having thought it out I think I'm pretty thoroughly justified in thinking it's complete bullshit. Like in retrospect even twisting people into loving me was always kind of ick, and I don't mean Taylor's lame-o ethical objections to mind control ick, I mean the results I got were unpredictable and often undesirable. There was one boy who turned into a stalker until I retrained him to find the sight of me so nauseating he had to immediately flee to a toilet if he thought he saw a blonde girl wearing my general style of clothes, there were two different girls where making them love me turned into a possessive jealousy thing where they literally preferred to kill me themselves over letting someone else have me, three different people who liked to pat me on the head or otherwise be kind of vaguely self-indulgently nice but were utter assholes if I tried to vent about my family because they didn't actually care about my well-being they just enjoyed being warm in my direction...
... so why the fuck would I want this shit? It's not even a particularly pleasing tune to my power! Makes me think of funeral music, actually, all solemn and boring and lame.
But I still want a relationship with Taylor, and one that's not our current one where she's perpetually barely tolerating my existence. I've already worked out that this is important to me on a personal level, and honestly probably important for, like, my psychological well-being or some such shit. Training wheels and all. So. What is it I want?
Like okay there's obviously the physical stuff, but let's be honest, I can take or leave it being Taylor per se. I've held off looking elsewhere for... uh... several reasons, but one of the main ones is the whole 'she will probably try to scoop my eyeballs out with a spoon' thing. And I'm not even sure whether it would be motivated by possessive jealousy or not. If Taylor starts providing, awesome, if not, I'll... figure something out. Point is, this is something I want, but it's not really something I specifically consider crucial to get from Taylor in particular. I need to look elsewhere in my skull for answers.
Like obviously I want... credit? I guess? Taylor's trying to skulk in the shadows, which at this point I'm not sure how much of that is on her per se vs how much of it is her power affecting her given all the shit it's done to her but whatevs, the point is at some point I want us to go public and I want people to know Cherie Vasil is an awesome, history-shaping lady alongside Taylor. Or Monster. I don't really care how she presents herself, but I want to be me on the stage of the world, not some dumb cape-name hiding who I am. So part and parcel of all that is that I'd really prefer if Taylor was more, you know, appreciative of what I'm bringing to the table, especially when I'm TIRED AS ALL FUCK FROM RUNNING MYSELF RAGGED FOR HER, rrrrgh, though thinking on it I think I actually find that a lower priority than having the world recognize how awesome I am? It'd be nice to have Taylor recognize my contributions more explicitly and appreciatively, but I don't think it's something I particularly consider essential.
In the background, shadowspike cape finally goes down, his signature flatlining. Whew. Taylor still hasn't noticed anything, though I'm pretty sure she's giving me funny looks. It feels like she is, but I'm studiously keeping my eyes on the road.
God, I dunno.
Eventually I peel away from the highway for a bit, ultimately stopping at a pizza place and loudly announce, "Okay, epiphany over! Food time!"
Taylor gives me a look like I've gone insane, but doesn't press the point. "... I can get it. What are you wanting?"
It's only as the shock of Taylor being nice registers that I really notice I'm slumped backward into my seat, wrung out. I guess I was more stressed over the shadowspike cape thing than I thought? I was sure I wasn't that stressed over it...
Ugh, whatever. I lean the rest of the way back and cover my eyes with my right arm. I really do feel tired. "Those cinnamon stick things, I guess. Or whatever's closest. And soda! Don't forget the soda!"
Without another word, Taylor retrieves some cash and wanders off to pay. Yeah, I can tell from her tune that she's a bit worried about me. Not real worried, not like she thinks I might die, but definitely a little worried. Fuck.
Pizza and some Cinna-On-A-Stick (What the hell kinda name is that...) later, I'm feeling... better. Not good, not really, because I've still got a new quasi-existential issue looming over me like a vampiric werewolf slavering for my blood, but taking a break and eating helped.
It also helped that when I just mechanically ate without trying to make conversation, Taylor noticed that was weird and continued to be concerned but just left me alone. Some of my 'dates' would try to comfort me when I was feeling overwhelmed and just hiding in their place, and having to deal with them on top of all the things that were overwhelming me was just... not happening. I usually drove them to depression or something so they'd leave me alone... accidentally got that one girl killed when she ended up in juuust the right zone to have suicidal thoughts without being so far gone suicide seemed like too much effort... that was a fucking mess...
... so it's nice to have Taylor just give me space without question.
Even if I'm pretty sure it's less her being considerate of me and more her just habitually keeping space between herself and others.
Once we're back in the truck, before I can start it up, Taylor asks me in this rather hesitant tone of voice, "So what was this... epiphany, exactly?" The way she says 'epiphany' makes me think she's doubting my framing. I'm pretty sure I'd pick up on that even if my power wasn't telling me about the stabbing doubts rising concordantly with the word.
I spend a solid minute staring out the front of the truck, trying to think of how I want to answer that, trying to ignore how Taylor is increasingly uncomfortable and confused. Probably because I usually have an off-the-cuff response ready. But I'm so tired, and I don't know how to answer that and frankly I'm already pretty upset about not having an answer on what I want vis-a-vis Taylor and relationships, and I'm still paying attention to probable capes in my range, and it's all just so much effort to think and so unpleasant to work through all this and aaaaaah.
So I blatantly change the subject as I start up the truck. "Hey, why did you kill Daddy second, anyway?" Pretty sure it was second. She's never indicated otherwise, timeline fits, and I like making Taylor think I already know everything worth knowing.
Taylor is, unsurprisingly, completely thrown by this new question, and then gets mildly indignant. "You haven't answered my question."
I lie and say, "It's related," because that's worked a few times with other people, and I haven't tried it on Taylor so she shouldn't be wise to this particular trick. Actually. Is it a lie in this case? The epiphany is about Taylor, what I want from her, etc. What she does and why she does it... connects. Huh.
Taylor takes that with relative equanimity, still annoyed but ruminating, brooding. 'cause Taylor. As I'm turning onto a bigger highway thingy, higher speed limit so we can put that previous town behind us faster, she speaks up. "Well, he was nearby for one." Point. Taylor continues, seeming to warm to the topic, as I can see out of the corner of my eye that she's stopped halfway hunching over the tinkermonitor like she expects to focus back on it any second now. "The main thing after that, was that he was a problem that was getting worse the longer it lasted." Uh, okay? "The more people he took, the more hostages he had, the more kids he... made-" The virulent hatred and disgust makes me think she's using 'made' as a euphemism to, like, emotionally distance herself. Not succeeding very well, if so, seems like. "-also the more hostages he had-" I startle slightly at that, because, well, uh, that actually fits perfectly and I see the logic just fine but it never occurred to me to think of myself as a hostage that was protecting Daddy just by existing, and I didn't think Taylor was able to think of a parent relating to their child that way? "-and as kids triggered he got more powers under him, more protection, more potential."
Ah, okay, I think I kinda see what Taylor is talking about, and I can see how she might go for Daddy after Nilbog as, like, related-but-lesser? I was never super up on Nilbog, but he was a big deal because he made things that could make other things, right? Explosive growth, the thing where populations go 2-4-8-16 instead of 2-4-6-8. And Daddy growing the fam', triggering kids as time goes on, it's a little like that? Hell, me and Jea- that dorky loser both have people-control powers, broadly speaking, so like if we'd been willing lieutenants in Daddy's plans for Alaskan conquest (That he didn't actually fucking have, but I thought he had such plans, why wouldn't Taylor think much the same from outside?) you can kinda math that as three times the effectiveness. Sorta. If you fudge the numbers. So... oh. Is this what Taylor means about 'preventing' badness? Huh. Kill small problem while it's small, when you know it's going to be bigger later, rather than killing it later when it's bigger. A stitch in the Nine saves time, ounce of prevention vs pound of cure, etc.
... so she didn't want to kill Shady Stockings because her power doesn't scale. I didn't pay a ton of attention to her whole dealy, but it was, like, ghosty shit with going through walls, and jumping super-high, but not anything where the longer she was left alone the bigger a problem she'd be.
That makes a brutal kind of sense. Can always kill her later if she changes her mind, and it won't be any harder than it would be to do now, where you can't un-kill her-
...
... I really wish I'd met Taylor and parsed this aspect of her thoughts sooner. Maybe I wouldn't... wouldn't have killed Jean-Paul. Could... could always have killed him later if I changed my mind...
"Why are you crying?" Taylor asks me and oh shit I'm tearing up enough I can't see the road properly gotta find a place to pull to the side shit shit shit.
Thankfully, no disasters occur before I manage to pull off into the grass and lean back and close my eyes for a minute, Taylor conspicuously silent and distinctly uncomfortable.
It takes me a few minutes to pull myself together.
Checking myself in the rear-view mirror... goddammit, should've used a different blush. I knew this brand bleeds like a fucker when I cry, but come the fuck on how was I supposed to know Girl Talk would result in emotional drama! I've never done Girl Talk! It's supposed to be, like, shallow and stupid and fun! Not shit that makes you cry!
I'm digging out a napkin to fix the disaster that is my face when Taylor quietly asks, "Are you okay, Cherie?" Yeah, she's concerned, like... weirdly so, actually. She's usually such a bitch about shit. Do I need to cry more often? Is that the secret to getting Taylor to be less of an asshole? Goddammit, I'm not Dar', I can't put on the waterworks at will. Useless thoughts.
After a second I manage to get my smile going again. Haha, nothing to see here, just... fuck... um... shit, I'm pretty sure this is a brittle talking-to-Pauline smile, and I can't think of a way to spin this. Back when the fam' asked, I could make a vague allusion to Daddy and they'd fill in with whatever made sense, or if he wasn't around I could probably vaguely pin something on somebody. Pauline, if I wasn't talking to Pauline, at minimum. And Pauline didn't really care if I cried so long as I wasn't annoying about it. (ie if I was silent, she didn't give a shit) Taylor actually asks questions, though, and I don't have a nebulously large cast of assholes about me to vaguely imply blame upon. Like, if Aunt Cordelia ever got curious, I could just bring up Aunt Connie and done, that was explanation enough to her. Got nobody to deflect upon here. Been trying to not let Taylor know about... anything that makes me seem uncool, really...
"You don't have to say what it is if you don't want to," Taylor says very quietly, sounding deeply concerned while my power affirms that she is concerned, what the shit why is she being understanding now of all times? Is it the crying? What the fuck is going on I don't get this I hate this. There's some ambivalent hesitation shit in her 'scape and then Taylor unbuckles her seatbelt (?) and leans a bit toward me and I'm starting to wonder if this is going to somehow turn into Stabbing Ensues because what the fuck is going on but instead Taylor quietly says, "If... if a hug will help... I can do that."
I just kinda stare at Taylor for a minute, bamboozled by this show of concern from Taylor, and then she gets all determined and internally badass which I'd normally find pretty cool but what the hell is she doing it about here and then she reaches out and hugs me and I find myself closing my eyes and leaning in-
-which makes Taylor into that many-legged whatsit, which rrrrrrather changes the experience and Taylor starts trying to pull away but I make a shushing noise and say, "This is fine," and she awkwardly goes back to trying to embrace me, her 'scape clearly showing she's a lot more uncomfortable with this than when she first offered. Which is impressive given the world's deadliest octopus (Well, aside that deadly poisonous one but shhhh) is all-around a bit deader on the spectrum and Taylor was really really uncomfortable when she offered the hug.
But it really does help. Hugs normally make me think of... things I'd rather not... but the cool surfaces wrapping against me don't call those experiences to mind at all. It's more like putting an ice pack to a bruise, but gentler and less cold, and without the associated recent memory of Pauline beating the shit out of me. Or Daddy doing so. Just... the soothing aspect of that experience.
Not that it makes Jean-Paul any less dead, or me any less of a fuckup, but it helps anyway. Hey, I know better than anyone emotions aren't logical, right? I... fuck, that was supposed to be a joke, but now I just feel dumb and sad and dumb...
Still.
This helps.
I'm not sure how many minutes pass before I push to break the hug. It feels like forever and no time at all, because brains are stupid like that, but I wasn't paying attention to the clock beforehand, so knowing it's 6:30 in the afternoon doesn't really clarify anything.
There's a lengthy silence where Taylor stares at me, jaw working for a minute while her 'scape does a lot of nervous floppery that taken altogether makes me think she's got multiple questions and can't bring herself to ask any particular one. Eventually she settles for, "You, uh, ready to get back to... work?" Sounding nervous as hell, glancing intermittently at the tinkermonitor.
I smile weakly. "Yeah, absolutely."
Then I realize that's actually pretty close to honest, rather than me saying whatever sounds coolest. Huh.
So I rejoin highway traffic, glad I didn't have to massage anyone's emotions to get them to not poke at us while we were parked, turning all this over in my head, going back to what I was thinking about earlier...
... and the remainder of that day's ride is in silence. I almost want to call it a comfortable silence.
When I wake up, Taylor is back to being an inconsiderate uber-bitch, hurrying me out the door as soon as we've eaten the shitty hotel breakfast, focused on whether the Nine are in my radius, only ceasing to ask when she finds a news article about their latest attack and they're way too far to be in my range. Broody brooding brooder Taylor.
Uuuughghghhgh the hug was nice and all but I'm still so tired.
Halfway through the day we pass by some ugly-as-sin out-of-season Santa Claus decoration thing, and inspiration strikes.
"So are we doing a Christmas thing or not?"