2-3 - fics I read - CHERREADS

Main Content

Archive of Our Own betaArchive of Our OwnLog In

FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search

tip: buffy gen teen AND "no archive warnings apply"

Actions

Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Major Character DeathGraphic Depictions Of Violence

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Characters:

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-12-01Completed:2024-12-01Words:195,128Chapters:26/26Comments:23Kudos:74Bookmarks:31Hits:3,802

I'm HALPING!

Ack13

Chapter 2: Halping!

Chapter Text

Julia wasn't in a good position to see when Taylor Hebert was shoved into the locker, which had irritated her. All Madison had told her was that there was an 'awesome prank' going down, with Taylor as the butt of it, which was pretty well par for the course. Show up, Madison had said. Be ready to take pictures. It'll be epic.

She hadn't been wrong. It was epic, all right. Epic in the same way that an Endbringer attack was epic. Julia hadn't been paying too much attention to Sophia's boy-toy, except to express a little surprise, given that the track star rarely spent time smooging up to guys. In fact, if Sophia had been a little more butch, Julia would have seriously begun to wonder if she was playing for the other team.

When the door slammed shut on Hebert, locking her in with all that crap, Julia had been delighted and amazed – along with being a little pissed, of course. If she'd known that was gonna go down, she would've picked a better vantage point.

Of course, if she'd known what else was going to go down, she would've picked a different vantage point altogether, for an entirely different reason.

The first thing that clued her in on something being wrong (for anyone not named Taylor Hebert, of course) was when Madison came flying at her. Not staggering, not even running backward. Flying. Like, airborne. And Julia was in the way.

Point of note: petite girls are still heavy. When one slams into you at waythefucktoofast speed, they can and will bowl you the fuck off of your feet. And the people behind you.

Julia went down, of course. Madison landed on her, then rolled off, groaning horribly. Julia wondered if her ribs were broken, or if Madison's impact had just bruised everything from her kidneys on forward. She still had her phone in her hand. It was a conditioned reflex ingrained into every teen; whatever else happens, don't ever lose your phone. Gang attack, Endbringer event, the Triumvirate showing up for a publicity stunt, it was all the same. If you didn't know where your phone was, you were nothing.

Hebert didn't even own a phone. That was her in a nutshell, really.

Gasping for breath, Julia watched as the boy-toy slammed Emma up against a locker, then bounced Sophia off the floor like a basketball. Sophia didn't bounce too well. Then the boy-toy stepped up to the locker and fucking ripped the door off. Julia's eyes went wide; before, she'd been going to call the cops and paramedics and shit. Now she knew exactly who she was gonna call.

And it wasn't the fucking Ghostbusters.

<><>

"You've reached nine-one-one. What is your emergency?"

"Parahuman attack," gasped Julia. With wide, terrified eyes, she watched the boy-toy, with Taylor Hebert in his arms, stride down the hallway and out of sight. Nobody tried to stop him, for several really obvious reasons. One was the fact that he'd just torn off a locker door with his bare hands. The second was that the stuff that Emma and the others had put in Taylor's locker stank. And some of it was stuck to Hebert's legs. They could probably smell her in Boston.

The phone clicked and buzzed, then she heard a new voice. "You have reached the PRT emergency call line. Are you experiencing a parahuman attack at this time?"

"My – my friends have been attacked," Julia sobbed. "They're hurt badly, I think. The guy just hit them."

"I understand," the woman on the other end of the line told her soothingly. "Can you tell me your location, please?"

"I – Winslow High School," Julia stammered, trying not to hyperventilate. "Please help us. He might come back any moment."

"I'm alerting the PRT as we speak," the woman said soothingly. "The more information you can give me about this, the better. What sort of powers were used to attack your friends, and how badly are they injured?"

Julia couldn't recall what they called really strong capes. "He just – just hit them, really hard. Just a single punch to put them down," she blurted. "Then he ripped a locker door off with his bare hands. He's strong, really strong."

She could hear the clatter of computer keys. "A Brute classification, then. How badly are your friends injured?"

"Uh -" Julia sat up and looked at Madison. The brunette was moaning weakly and clutching at her arm. It looked twisted in a really weird way, and her wrist just looked all wrong. Sophia was still lying on her back, a few yards away, breath hissing through her teeth. Julia couldn't see if there was anything badly wrong with Emma, but she was folded into a curled-up position, so she decided to go with the safest option. "I think they're all hurt pretty badly. Broken bones at least. He hit them really hard." She was aware that she was repeating the same words over and over – he hit them really hard – but she couldn't help herself.

"Ambulance services have been dispatched to your location. Can you describe the parahuman to me? Was he wearing a costume?"

"No," she said. "He was just wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He's new here. I thought he was a friend of Sophia's. Tall, good-looking, black hair, kind of serious. I didn't get his name."

"That's fine, that's fine," the PRT woman replied gently. "Now, what I want you to do is describe the incident to me as closely as you can. Don't leave out any uses of his powers. Can you do that for me?"

Julia took a deep breath. We locked some girl in her locker and he went nuts and rescued her. Yeah, that'll go down real well. "Uh, someone played some kinda prank and he just went nuts for no good reason," she hedged. "Hit Emma and Sophia and Madison, then ripped off a locker door, then went off with some girl."

The woman's tone sharpened. "There's someone with him now? Do you believe her life to be in danger?"

Why did I mention Taylor? "Uh, probably not. She's probably in on it with him. She's a creepy weird loner."

"I see. Do you know her name?"

"Uh, yeah, Taylor. Taylor Hebert."

"Have you seen them together before this point?"

She thought of lying, but decided it was too dangerous. "Uh, no, this was the first time I met him. But they could've met out of school."

"Thank you. Your friends, the injured girls. Can you tell me their full names?"

"Uh, yes. Emma Barnes, Madison Clements and Sophia Hess. My name's Julia."

<><>

Parahuman Response Teams ENE

Office of Deputy Director Renick

Paul Renick pushed his glasses back up on his nose and eyed the email with a vaguely quizzical air. Now, why would Kid Win be requisitioning seventeen pounds of popcorn and a rubber duck … well, never mind. I'm sure Armsmaster's ordered in stranger things before. He forwarded the email onward, with his approval attached, then turned to the next one in the queue.

But before he could click it open, an alert flag popped up on his desktop. Reflexively, he clicked on it. A window unfolded, and he started scanning the lines of text.

Parahuman attack at Winslow High. Reported by student. Female, young, agitated.

Perp Brute. Several students injured. Dispatching emerg services.

Perp male, teenage, good looking, black hair, serious appearance. No name given. Friend of student called Sophia. No costume, no mask. T-shirt, jeans.

Perp responded to prank with violence. Struck three girls. Emma, Sophia, Madison. Tore door off of locker (why?) HOSTAGE.

Caller does not think hostage is in danger (why?) Hostage name is Taylor Herbert (sp?). Caller has not seen hostage w/perp, but thinks that they may be in collusion (why?).

Renick kept reading, his brow furrowing. This was a standard call-out; he wasn't sure why the alert had popped up on his computer. Then he scrolled onward a little, and saw the highlighted name.

Full names of victims Emma Barnes (sp?), Madison Clements, Sophia Hess.

He hadn't registered the name 'Sophia' above, but now he recalled it. Wait, she took a Brute friend to school, where he attacked her and some other students? What's going on here?

Picking his phone up, he hit speed-dial. It didn't take long for him to get an answer. "Emily," he said carefully, "I think we may have a situation."

He didn't miss the groan from the other end. Emily hated 'situations'.

<><>

I sniffed the air as I scrubbed my legs again. I'd been wearing jeans – I would have to burn them now – but even though I was clean, I still felt the touch of that shit on me. But I couldn't smell anything other than soap and water, so I decided to stop scrubbing. My skin was starting to get a bit red, anyway. Of course, the water was pretty hot too …

"I have brought you clean clothes and a towel, Taylor Hebert!"

I spun around, arms flying to cover myself. But he wasn't looking. All I could see was a handful of what looked like clothing being held across the entrance to the shower cubicle.

Well, I was clean enough already. I turned the shower off and reached for the clothing. "Thanks. Uh … sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier. Who are you again, and why are you helping me?" The thought was never far from my mind that this might be some kind of massive multi-layered prank, to set me up and then have the whole school take photos of me naked or something.

"My name is Zachary. Sophia gave me that name. I am here to help you."

I started to dry myself. "Sophia … Hess? You know Sophia?" The ugly possibilities in the back of my mind began to multiply.

"Yes, Taylor Hebert. I know Sophia. She is not a nice person. She hurt you. I liked her until she did that. Then I stopped liking her."

Zachary's delivery was … odd. Almost robotic. Or very naïve. I finished drying myself and scrubbed at my scalp. "But why did you help me? You don't know me." Even the people who know me don't want to help me.

His voice was almost comically bright. "I am here to help you, Taylor Hebert! That is what I am here to do!"

Circular argument. I am here to help you, so I am helping you.

I had to know. Mom had instilled in me a certain level of curiosity. "But why are you here to help me?" With the towel wrapped around my hair, I started getting dressed.

"Because that is the basis of my existence, Taylor Hebert! I am here to help you!"

The clothing wasn't mine. Too short and too wide, but there was also a belt, which I managed to pull in to the last notch. I had to take the towel off of my head to put on the t-shirt, which hung on me like a tent, but at least I was dressed.

Okay. Now I could address the philosophical conundrum that had been presented to me.

I stepped out of the shower cubicle and met his gaze squarely. "So what you're saying is that you're in love with me. Is that it?" Oh, god, please don't let that be it. He's kinda hunky, but I don't need an obsessed boyfriend. Especially one whom I've never met before.

He looked vaguely confused. "I am not in love with you, Taylor Hebert. I am here to help you. Now, come with me and you can eat some food."

" … food?" I blinked, trying to get past the conversational whiplash.

"Yes, Taylor Hebert. You have undergone a most traumatic experience. Trauma induces shock. It is good to eat food in order to reduce the effects of shock."

"I …" I guessed that I was still a little shaky from all of what had happened. Not least being the fact that I'd been rescued by an overly attentive stranger who was determined to wait on me hand and foot. " … okay. Food sounds good."

"Food is good, Taylor Hebert. You are more than a little underweight. Perhaps you need to eat a little more food every day and exercise for muscle mass. That would be a healthy thing to do."

Overly attentive wasn't the half of it, apparently. He was also incredibly rude, without even intending to be so.

Well, kinda rude. In a well-meaning way.

I snuck a sideways glance at him as we walked along the corridor. He really was good looking. Also, if his biceps were any indication, he had serious muscle definition. Also also, he had gotten me out of the locker. Okay, I could forgive the rudeness. This time.

"Okay, uh, Zachary?"

"Yes, Taylor Hebert?"

"For one thing, my name's Taylor, all right. Just Taylor, not 'Taylor Hebert' all the time."

"Yes, Taylor. I will remember that."

"Thank you, Zachary. Uh, do you prefer Zachary or Zach?"

"I have no preference, Taylor. You may refer to me by either name."

"Okay, Zach, one other rule. Please don't make personal comments about my weight or habits unless I invite them, all right? It makes me feel uncomfortable."

"I will try not to make you feel uncomfortable, Taylor. But I will make an observation."

He paused. I nodded cautiously. "Yes?"

"Sometimes it is necessary to make someone uncomfortable in order to help them. Is that not true?"

Dammit. He had me there.

"Uh, okay, yeah, but still? Ask permission before making any personal comments, all right?"

"I will do that, Taylor." He pushed open the cafeteria door. One staff member was present, wiping down the counter. The smell of hot food tickled my nostrils, making my stomach growl. "I will get you some food, Taylor."

Food did sound good, but I was pretty sure that we weren't supposed to be there. We approached the servery counter; it was all there, but locked behind glass. "Um, maybe we could go to a vending machine?"

"Why do we need to do that, Taylor?"

I gestured at the inaccessible food. "Because we can't get to it?"

"Can I help you?" We both looked around at the lady behind the counter. She returned a surly expression. I was pretty sure that her question really meant What the fuck are you doing in my cafeteria?

"Yes, you can help us, please," Zach said brightly. "Taylor needs some food. You would be helping her if you gave her something to eat."

The woman stared at him, then at me. I essayed a little shrug, trying to convey It wasn't my idea, but I am kinda hungry. I wasn't sure if she actually got all of that.

"Cafeteria's closed," grunted the woman, starting to wipe the bench again. "Come back at lunch time."

That was pretty definite as far as dismissals went. I started to turn away, but Zach spoke again. "No. Taylor is here now. She needs food now." There was a harder tone in his voice, one that I hadn't heard before. "Please give her food now, so that she can eat."

I put my hand on his arm. "Zach, it's all right. I can wait."

"No, Taylor," he insisted. "You need food. There is food right here." He shifted his attention to the woman. "Please give Taylor some food."

The woman's lip curled. "Go away before I call the principal. You're not even supposed to be in here."

"All right." For a moment, I thought that Zach was seeing sense. Then he took hold of the end of the glass cover with one hand, braced the other on the counter … and with a sound like a trainwreck, pulled the cover clear off the servery. That was loud enough. When he casually tossed it to one side, where it demolished a table? That was even louder.

I'd been meaning to ask him how he got me out of that locker.

<><>

Armsmaster turned his head. A glance at his HUD selected 'all units'. "Armsmaster here. What was that noise, over?"

A moment passed, then a voice came over comms. "Squad Three Actual. We're near the cafeteria. The sound came from inside there. It sounds like someone's wrecking the place, over."

"Roger, Squad Three Actual. Hold position. All other units, converge on the cafeteria. Armsmaster out." He cut his mic and looked down at where the paramedics were loading the three injured girls on to gurneys. All the other civilians had since been evacuated, of course. "How long until you can evac them?"

"We'll be done in a minute." The man in charge glanced up at him. "We've got multiple broken bones, possible internal injuries and maybe spinal damage. But they're stable. We'll have them out of your way soon."

"Good." He paced forward, glanced at Miss Militia. She held a heavy machinegun in a casual grip, a bright red laser dot playing on the far end of the corridor. There were not many people who could use a laser sight with a gun that size; it went without saying that she was one of the few. "Rest of the school's been evacuated?"

She nodded. "Almost. Classrooms have been cleared. Squad Four reported finding torn-open lockers in the girls' shower room."

He frowned slightly. "What is it with this Brute and lockers? And what's with that locker and the filth that's in it?" He gestured with his halberd toward the locker in question; the appalling reek was easily discernible ten yards away. "That's going to need a hazmat team to clear up."

"I think it means that there's something going on that we don't know about," Miss Militia said pensively. "Maybe it's got something to do with the hostage."

Armsmaster grimaced. "I hate hostage situations."

"Don't lie," she murmured, elbowing him gently in the ribs. "You love anything that gives you a challenge you can overcome."

He didn't rise to the bait. She was closer to the truth than he was comfortable with. He wanted – needed – to prove himself, to show the higher-ups that he was relevant, able to hold his own at the top of the heap in Brockton Bay. His social skills were atrocious, he knew, but there were things that he had trouble grasping and things that came easily to him. Engineering. Leadership. Fighting. Those were his forte.

"Okay, we're ready to roll." He looked around. The paramedics were lifting the gurneys, holding the IV trees up out of the way, making preparations to evacuate the injured. The victims, he reminded himself. Including a Ward. That makes it personal.

"Good," he said. "Let's go." The blink of an eye brought up a plan of the school; he set the cafeteria as their target, and the navigation system overlaid a path on the map. The path was also projected on his field of view, so that he didn't have to check with the map. A little overkill while walking through a high school, no doubt, but immeasurably useful when riding at full tilt through the back streets of Brockton Bay.

"Assault here," he heard in his earpiece; a quick check showed that it was coming in on the capes-only frequency. "Me and puppy can provide backup if you want. Because, you know, Brute and all."

"We're trying to keep this low-key," Armsmaster replied firmly. "There's a hostage involved. If he sees too many capes coming at him, he might panic and hurt her."

"So Miss Militia's going to do the talking, gotcha."

"Clear the channel," growled Armsmaster. He shot a suspicious glance at Miss Militia; she may have been smiling under the scarf, but he couldn't be certain. After a moment, he cleared his throat and opened the cape channel once more. "Armsmaster to Velocity. Are you in position, over?"

"Roger that," the speedster replied. "Once you go in there, if I can zip in and grab the girl, I will."

"Hold off on that until we get a read on him," Armsmaster advised him. "He may have better reflexes than we know about. Right now, the well-being of this girl ..."

"Taylor Hebert," Miss Militia reminded him.

"Taylor Hebert, is paramount."

"Holding off, roger."

"Good." He cut the channel again, and accessed the notes taken by the PRT emergency call responder. "Says here her name is Herbert."

"I checked the school records," Miss Militia told him. "More than one student by the name of Herbert, but no Taylors. There is one Taylor Hebert, though. Fifteen years old."

"Hm." He nodded, taking the information on board. "Poor kid. She must be about scared to death by now."

<><>

This was the first time I had ever felt actually comfortable in the school cafeteria. With nobody else to poke fun at me or 'accidentally' knock my tray to the floor, or spill their drink on me, I was able to actually relax and enjoy my meal in peace.

Of course, the fact that Zach had more or less destroyed the servery was a bit of a downer, but I was carefully ignoring that aspect of matters. He was strong. I mean, really, really strong. But he had never hurt me with that strength. In fact, he was using it to help me. I found it weird in the extreme, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the heck out of the meal. The fact that I wasn't really questioning that strength was a faint niggle at the back of my mind, but one that I chose to ignore for the moment. It wasn't really important, anyway.

Finally, I pushed my tray away and essayed a delicate ladylike burp. Well, it started that way, then went way out of control. "Wow," I muttered. "Excuse me and all that."

"You do not need to be excused, Taylor," Zach said. "Belching is a perfectly normal bodily function." He had stayed quiet, at my request, while I was eating, but now it seemed that he felt at liberty to speak once more.

"Ah, yeah, let's not expand on bodily functions," I said hastily. "So, uh, what do we do now? My locker's destroyed, my books are totalled and I think they're gonna be a little pissed at what you did to the servery."

"I can help to repair that," offered Zach. "But I do not have any money to pay for it." He paused. "You did not explain why Sophia put you in your locker. Lockers are not intended for human accommodation. Nor are they intended for toxic waste storage. Why did she do this?"

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. "It's not just Sophia. It's Emma and Madison as well. They've been picking on me since I started high school. Everything they can do to hurt me or make me feel bad, they'll do it."

He looked solemn. "This is not a good thing."

"No shit it's not a good thing," I said, a little more vehemently than I had intended. "I just wish they'd stop, is all."

"Have you asked them to stop?" His voice was matter-of-fact.

I smiled bitterly. "I've done nothing but, since they started. Telling the teachers does nothing. Telling the principal does nothing. They just keep doing it."

"Oh." He stood up from his chair. "I will return, Taylor."

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" I jumped up as well.

"I am going to solve your problem."

I caught up with him as he strode toward the doors. "How are you going to do that?"

"I am going to kill them." His tone was earnest, almost scarily so.

"No, you can't! Killing is wrong!"

"No, it is not." He really intended to do this. I could hear it in his voice. "Sophia will understand. She knows that it is sometimes necessary to kill to solve a problem. I will let her explain to the other two, and give them time to make their peace with whatever deity they consider significant."

"Wait, no," I protested. I grabbed him by the arm. "Stop!"

Coming to a halt, he turned to me. "Why are you stopping me? It is the most expeditious solution to your problem. If they are dead, they cannot hurt you."

I stared into his face, trying to reach him. "Don't kill them. Don't kill anyone. Please."

He tilted his head. "I want to help you, Taylor. I am here to help you. Do you want them to stop bullying you?"

"Yes … no … but … argh!" I scrubbed at my forehead with the back of my hand. "Not like this. If you killed someone on my account, I would never be able to forget that someone died because of me."

"I will not kill them, Taylor," he agreed.

I sighed with relief. "Good. Thank you. That makes me feel much better."

"I am glad that you feel better," he said simply. "I have an alternate strategy in mind. I do not need to kill them."

A sense of impending doom tapped me on the shoulder and bet me that the alternate strategy was worse. I tried to ignore it. "What is your new strategy?"

He smiled at me. "I will frighten them instead. I will tell them that I will kill them if they do not stop hurting you."

Mentally, I handed the sense of impending doom fifty bucks. It had been right all along. "No. That will hurt me and my dad. Badly."

He looked confused. "But I will not be killing anyone, Taylor. How is this hurting you?"

I sighed. "Emma Barnes is the daughter of a lawyer. If you make threats against her on my behalf, then her father will probably sue me and Dad so hard my grandkids will be paying off the damages."

"But you do not have grandchildren, Taylor."

"It's a figure of speech. It means that it'll be very costly to me and Dad. Please don't threaten Emma with death or dismemberment. She's extremely vindictive."

"Oh." He brightened. "Then I will -"

The sense of impending doom was back, but before it could offer me a new bet, the cafeteria doors opened. We both looked around. I was expecting one of the teachers, or maybe Principal Blackwell. What I wasn't expecting was Armsmaster and Miss Militia.

Oh, wait. Zach's a cape. Well, duh.

I waved. "Uh, hi?" The wave and my tone of voice were intended to be disarming. We're good. No need for any unpleasantness.

It didn't seem to work. Armsmaster levelled his halberd at Zach, while Miss Militia aimed a taser at him. At least, I assumed it was a taser; it looked like it could bring down a medium-sized elephant. "Taylor Hebert?" That was Miss Militia.

"Yeah?" Boy, was I on fire with the witty dialogue today.

"Are you hurt?" Her voice was serious.

I blinked. "Um, a bit scraped here and there, but fine, thanks." The locker hadn't been kind to my knees and elbows, of course, but Zach had gotten me out before I did too much damage to myself.

"Please step away from the parahuman," Armsmaster said. It was worded like a request, but I would have had to be tone-deaf, actually deaf and unconscious to not hear it as an order.

"What?" I asked. "Why?" I stepped a little closer to Zach, just to make my point. "He's not hurting me. He even got me something to eat."

Armsmaster flicked a glance sideways at the remains of the servery. "Causing serious damage to school property."

Zach chose that point to speak up. "The lady would not serve Taylor. Taylor needed food. I obtained the food for her."

"He's right," I agreed. "I was kind of in shock. I really needed to eat." I moved again, stepping in front of Zach. Armsmaster frowned slightly, maybe because I was spoiling his aim. "Don't attack him. He didn't do anything wrong."

"On the contrary, Miss Hebert, he has perpetrated three counts of grievous bodily harm," Armsmaster stated flatly. "In addition to this and other incidences of damage to school property."

I turned to Zach. "You didn't tell me that you hurt anyone!"

"I was helping you," he replied innocently. "They tried to stop me from helping you. I did not allow them to do so."

"Wait," I said. "So who did you hurt?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Armsmaster begin to move, but Miss Militia put her hand on his arm. "Hold that thought," I added to Zach, then turned back to the heroes. "Can you just hold on a moment? I need to sort this out."

I hadn't known that it was possible to glower at someone from behind an opaque visor. In the event, Armsmaster proved that this was indeed the case. Miss Militia didn't seem so angry, although she did look a little concerned. "Please do not provoke him," she advised me, as if Zach wasn't right there. "We don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"I will not hurt Taylor," Zach stated plainly. "I am here to help her. I will keep her safe."

"He really has," I told them. "Now, can you just hold on? I need to find out what happened."

Miss Militia nodded. "All right, but be careful."

I sighed. I wasn't sure who was being more aggravating, my self-appointed bodyguard or the self-important heroes. "Okay. Zach. Who did you hurt and why?"

There was no duplicity in his gaze as he looked at me. "I hurt Madison because she tried to hold me back from helping you. I hurt Emma because she stood in my way and because she locked you in your locker. I hurt Sophia because she pushed you into your locker and tried to prevent me from letting you out. I did not kill any of them."

He did not add but I could have, because you had not asked me not to kill anyone at that time. For which I was eternally grateful.

"Right. Okay." I turned back to the heroes. "How badly are they hurt? Life-threatening?"

From the expressions moving over the visible part of Armsmaster's face, he had obviously not known about my little stint in the locker. "Uh, no. Serious, yes, but not life-threatening." He firmed his stance. "We still have to arrest him. Using parahuman powers on normals is a very serious crime."

"Wait." It was Miss Militia. "You're saying that Sophia Hess pushed you into your locker? The one with all the filth in it? And another one of the girls locked you in? With her connivance?"

There was something off about her wording, but I wasn't paying much attention. "I, uh … I didn't see who did it, exactly. But Zach did." I turned to him again. "Is that what happened?"

He nodded earnestly. "That is exactly what happened. I thought Sophia was a good person. Then she did that, and I knew that she was not." In exactly the same tone of voice, he continued, "Are you certain that I should not kill her? She intended to harm you badly. I can not allow that to happen."

Oh, god, I groaned, deep inside. He didn't just say that where they could hear him.

My imagination stepped in with a second voice, snickering. He sure did. Where's the popcorn?

I did my best to quell my imagination. "Yes," I told Zach as firmly as I could. "You must never kill anyone, ever. That is a very bad thing. I would be very hurt if you did that. And you should not hurt the heroes, either." Absently, I considered the fact that I was adopting his speech patterns while talking to him. Hopefully, that'll make it more likely that he'll listen.

"I will not hurt you, Taylor," he agreed. "I will not kill Sophia. Is it acceptable to harm her short of death if she attacks you again?"

"I dunno," I mused, then turned to look at the Protectorate capes. "Is it okay to just break Sophia's kneecaps if she tries to shove me into another locker? Because really, I've taken enough shit from her over the last year. I've had enough. Turning the other cheek just gets me bruised cheeks. So I think it's time for some eye-for-an-eye. Self-defence, defence of others, whatever. When Sophia gets out of the hospital, if she comes after me again, I figure that whatever Zach does to her, she deserves. Yeah?"

"Let's … shelve that for a moment." Miss Militia lowered her taser; a moment later, it had become a pistol, which she holstered. Armsmaster went to say something, but she shook her head. He frowned, but seemed to follow her lead. "Can we get back to where you were shoved into your locker?"

It was my turn to grimace. "Not my favourite memory, like, ever, but sure. Let's do that. What do you want to know?"

The flag-clad hero turned her attention to Zach. "Your name is Zach?"

"Yes. Sophia gave me my name." He seemed proud of that fact.

"Wait." That was Armsmaster. "That's not your real name?"

"Yes, it is my real name." Zach tilted his head. "Why would it not be a real name?"

"Never mind that for now." Miss Militia was back on track. "Zach, you are certain that you saw Sophia Hess pushing Taylor into her locker?"

Something was definitely off here. They were paying a lot of attention to what Sophia had done, and none at all to Emma. I wasn't able to think it through, because the conversation was still ongoing.

"Yes," Zach said firmly. "I saw her do it while Madison explained to me who Taylor Hebert was. Sophia pushed Taylor into her locker and Emma locked her in. Once I knew that this was Taylor Hebert, I knew that she was the one that I was here to help. So I helped her. I pushed the other girls aside and opened the locker and got Taylor out. Then I took her to the locker room so that she could get clean and wear clean clothes. Then I brought her here because food is good for shock."

His matter-of-fact tone seemed to puzzle the heroes. I was also reminded of something that I had wanted to clarify with Zach, but which had somehow managed to be pushed to the back of my mind. Why is he here to help me? Who sent him? What's this all about?

But Armsmaster was speaking. "I understand that you believe you were justified in what you are doing," he stated. "But you have committed several crimes, including assault and battery, destruction of property and theft. I suggest that you surrender peacefully to arrest." His halberd was levelled again.

"No." Zach said the word simply, but there was a weight behind it, as of an immovable object. "When I am not with Taylor, people try to harm her. I will not allow that. I will not leave her alone to be harmed. I am here to help her. If you try to harm her, then I will stop you."

"Threatening a member of the Protectorate is an offence," Armsmaster replied grimly. "Miss Hebert, step away from the parahuman, or I will be forced to consider you to be an accessory to his actions."

"For god's sake!" I burst out. "People committed crimes against me, and he saved me, and you're arresting him? I thought you were supposed to be the heroes here!"

"Your allegations against the other girls have all been recorded," Armsmaster told me. "They will be investigated fully. But in the meantime, we know that these crimes have been committed. This parahuman is required to surrender himself to lawful custody until the matter can be sorted out."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Zach put his hand on my shoulder. "Taylor, please move aside," he told me. "I can protect you more than you can protect me."

"But they can't just arrest you," I protested. "You're only helping me! It's everyone else who's doing the wrong thing!"

He smiled slightly. "They will not arrest me." Once again, I was struck by the absolute certainty of his tone. I had no idea why I believed him so implicitly, but I did. I stepped aside, moving until a couple of yards separated us.

Armsmaster spoke, a single word. "Now." I tensed, expecting him and Miss Militia to unleash attacks on Zach. It didn't happen, but something else did. A blur erupted from the open doorway, blazed past Miss Militia and Armsmaster, and intercepted me. I tried to dodge aside, but the blur resolved into a man in a familiar costume. Velocity.

"'Scuse me, gotta run." He scooped me up in a bridal carry, and went to bolt once more. My thought processes were still catching up – no, no, they can't just do this! - when he stopped once more. It wasn't by choice. Zach was standing right there, his hand wrapped around Velocity's upper arm.

"You will put Taylor down, at once," Zach advised Velocity. "Please. Taylor does not want me to hurt you."

"What the crap?" blurted the red-clad speedster. "How did you do that?"

I didn't wait for Zach's answer; instead, I wedged the palm of my hand up under his chin and pushed hard. He wore a light helmet, both for protection and to hold his radio, I guessed, and this threatened to dislodge it. Faced with the choice of losing the helmet or having his head pushed up, he chose instead to let me go. I would have landed on my butt, but Zach somehow got his arm under my shoulders, slowing my fall enough that I got my feet under me instead.

<><>

The moment he was free of the Brute's grasp, Velocity went into his Breaker state and blurred away from the both of them, ending up back at the door. How the hell did that even happen? he asked himself. Is he a teleporter? I didn't even see him move.

"Stand down, Velocity," Armsmaster subvocalised into his ear. "We've got this."

"What happened, kid?" Assault asked over the common channel. "Did the big bad Brute tag you?" There was the hint of a chuckle in his voice.

"Shut up," muttered Velocity. "I'd like to see you do any better."

"Well, if the boss-man decides to tag us in, we'll see," Assault replied.

Ignoring the radio chatter, Armsmaster was focusing on the teenage parahuman. "One more chance to surrender peacefully," he advised the kid.

"I will not surrender," the Brute replied. He wasn't boasting or blustering, simply stating a fact. "If you take me away, then Taylor may be harmed. I will not allow that."

"I think we're perfectly adequate to keep her safe," Miss Militia pointed out.

"Yeah, well, you've done a bang-up job of it so far," the girl – Taylor – interjected bitterly. "Where were you when I got shoved into my locker? Or when my flute got stolen? Or when they poured juice over my seat? Or when Sophia pushed me down the stairs? They've been doing this for over a fucking year, and you only get involved when someone actually steps in to help me? Fuck you. Fuck you all." She turned to Zach. "If they attack you, you're allowed to hurt them. Just don't kill them."

"I will not kill them, Taylor," Zach said solemnly. "I promise." He stepped toward Armsmaster and Miss Militia. "Please move aside. Taylor and I are leaving now."

Armsmaster responded first. His halberd was capable of a wireless taser effect, Velocity knew. He also knew that the effect had variable settings. The crackling bolt that leaped from the tip of the weapon and grounded in Zach's chest was definitely not the lowest setting.

It did … nothing. Zach looked down at it, then intercepted the bolt with his hand, apparently allowing the current to flow down his arm and into his body. The T-shirt he was wearing now sported a burned spot in the middle of the chest.

A pained cry from Taylor as she stood off to the side drew everyone's attention. It looked as though a stray arc of electricity had contacted her, given that she was shaking her hand vigorously. Armsmaster shut off the wireless taser; it wasn't as though the attack was doing anything to Zach anyway. Velocity wondered just how high the guy's Brute rating really was.

"As my brother might say, that was cute," Zach stated. "Taylor, are you well?"

"Yeah," she replied, rubbing a red spot on her hand. "Stung like fuck, is all."

"Good." He turned his attention to Armsmaster. "You are not responsible enough to use your weapon properly. Give it to me before anyone else gets hurt."

Armsmaster hefted his halberd defensively. "You are joking."

"I do not know how to joke," Zach said, and stepped forward. "Give your weapon to me before you harm Taylor again. I promise not to hurt you with it."

Miss Militia had been pushing grenades into a bulky launcher while this was going on. Velocity knew that if she wanted to fire regular rounds, they would already be loaded up, so these had to be some sort of Tinkertech. Probably a good idea, with the girl there. Some sort of limited effect.

The exact effect revealed itself a moment later, when Miss Militia fired the grenade launcher at Zach. She didn't just shoot once; one grenade after another hit Zach, as fast as she could rack the action. Containment foam bloomed in splotches on the approaching parahuman, the yellow blobs expanding rapidly to hold and constrict him in an unbreakable grip.

Unbreakable, that is, except by high-end Brutes. Which Zach apparently was, as he just kept coming. He tore away the foam that had covered his head and chest with a wet ripping sound, while some of the foam that had adhered to the floor stayed there and some stayed attached to his legs. Either way, it did nothing to slow him down. Christ, that's gotta be Brute 7 or 8 at least.

Armsmaster went into a guard position, his halberd crackling with energy. "I warn you, if you do not surrender immediately, you will be seriously injured -"

Now shirtless, Zach reached for the halberd. Armsmaster spun adroitly, slamming the butt-end of it against the teen Brute's chest. Now, this should have unleashed a burst of kinetic energy capable of knocking Zach across the room. The energy was unleashed, with a loud POP and the smell of ozone. Zach stumbled back a single step, then recovered.

Before he could move forward, however, the heroes were reacting. Armsmaster pointed his halberd at the ceiling; the end of it shot upward with a cable trailing behind, reconfiguring into a grappling hook. Miss Militia, on the other hand, was rapidly retreating.

The grapple engaged on a light fitting, and Armsmaster was yanked upward. Even as he left the floor, more grenades plopped into the foam still encasing Zach's lower body, then commenced hissing, releasing a dirty white vapour. Velocity counted two tear gas grenades and two knockout gas grenades; they weren't playing around. With all but a very few exceptions, even the toughest Brutes had to breathe, and Zach showed no signs of being one of the few.

As Velocity retreated with Miss Militia and the PRT soldiers, he heard four distinct cracks. He had no idea what they meant, until Armsmaster spoke up over comms. "He's thrown the grenades through the wall." The Tinker sounded distinctly aggrieved.

"Any effect on him?" That was Miss Militia.

"None that I can see."

"What's he doing now?"

"Peeling the rest of the containment foam off. He's definitely an eight-plus for Brute. Maybe a minor Mover or Thinker as well."

"And the girl?"

"She seems unharmed. Stayed out of the radius of the gas. Doesn't appear to be frightened of him."

"Damn it. What are our options?"

"Heavy weapons. Really heavy weapons."

Assault's voice broke into the chat. "Hey, me and Battery can come see what we can do."

"Negative." Armsmaster's voice brooked no argument. "Fall back. He's moving toward the door with the girl."

Miss Militia hesitated. "I can try armour-piercing …"

"At best, he would ignore it. At worst, I suspect that it would just make him mad. I don't think we want to see him angry."

"Hulk smash?" That was Assault.

"Clear the channel," ordered Armsmaster.

"No sense of humour," muttered Assault, but fell silent after that.

They were backing down the corridor now, as the doors opened once more. Zach stepped out first, followed by the skinny girl. She looked over at them. "Why don't you just leave us alone?" she shouted. "You're only making things worse!"

"She, uh, has a point," suggested Velocity diffidently. "If you look at it in a certain way."

"Our job is to uphold the law," Armsmaster stated. "Parahumans don't just get to commit crimes and walk away scot-free. There is a price to be paid."

Velocity wasn't quite sure that it was as black and white as all that, but then, he wasn't the leader of the local branch of the Protectorate. He didn't get to make that call. Or, to put it another way, he wasn't the one being saddled with making that call.

"I have a suggestion, then." Miss Militia kept her voice down, although the pair were walking off in the opposite direction. Zach wasn't looking back, although Taylor was, from time to time.

The doors opened again, and Armsmaster stepped out. "I'm listening."

"We bring in the Wards."

He shook his head. "No. We can't expose them to this level of danger."

"Not all of the Wards," she explained. "Just Vista, Gallant and Clockblocker."

He seemed to think about that. " … yes. I see where you're going with this."

"Is that a green light?"

"Let me call the Director first. She needs to be in on the loop, here."

"Oh, she's going to love this one." Miss Militia's tone was heavy with sarcasm.

She's not the only one, thought Velocity.

Actions

↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Comments (1)

Kudos

Monsking, AliventKirbo, Wpo, Likenathan64, Lian_C_Smith1872, DysphoricEuphorics, kingpariah, HungryHungryHobbits, Borland30, RevDorothyL, Mantis_1974, Lord_Felidae, Azatrox, Source_of_the_Nile, Grinmy, A_C41208, Imperius, IanQuest, The_Abyssal_0ne, ChaosBessie, DarkKnightofIT, Speculative_Silliness, dragonbaita, SolarArazmas, Wolforange, Kyleisfriend, Sirreads, KingVessel, Muddie202, Intermark, NebulaGaster, MacElfrish, YYH777, SummitMoon, HorrorIsLife, Comfortable_Thingy, Bruno282, splee, Notchbrine, mg_3D, alex_derd, PwnageHobo, MarcusRowland, Sanmadriel_santus, Matty066, Simonaut, AncientYautja, and TheWickedTruth89 as well as 26 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Post Comment

Note:

All fields are required. Your email address will not be published.

Guest name

Guest email

Plain text with limited HTML ? Embedded images ( tags) will be displayed as HTML, including the image's source link and any alt text.

Comment

10000 characters left

Footer

About the Archive

Site Map

Diversity Statement

Content Policy

DMCA Policy

Site Status

Policy Questions & Abuse Reports

Technical Support & Feedback

Development

otwarchive v0.9.458.3

Known Issues

GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTWMain Content

Archive of Our Own betaArchive of Our OwnLog In

FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search

tip: katekyou "alternate universe" sort:>words

Actions

Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Major Character DeathGraphic Depictions Of Violence

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Characters:

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-12-01Completed:2024-12-01Words:195,128Chapters:26/26Comments:23Kudos:74Bookmarks:31Hits:3,802

I'm HALPING!

Ack13

Chapter 3: Insanity is Contagious

Chapter Text

There was a phrase that went through Director Piggot's mind quite often, especially when dealing with those parahumans who were nominally under her command. However, due to the need for at least the appearance of propriety, she had never gotten around to using it.

Until right now.

"You have to be insane," she stated flatly. She had no image of Armsmaster – this was a voice-only call – but she glared at the phone anyway. "Whoever or whatever that is, he handily defeated three of you in a matter of moments. You are not sending three Wards up against him. What are you thinking?"

On her computer monitor, the action that had been relayed from Armsmaster's helmet recording began to play through again, this time without sound.

"Uh, Director, it was actually my idea," Miss Militia interjected; Armsmaster must have cut her in on a conference call. "And the plan is not to send them in to fight him."

Piggot frowned. "Go on."

"It's clear that this 'Zachary' does what Taylor Hebert tells him what to do. So in order to de-escalate the situation, we need to reach her. Attacking with force is not the way to do this. We've already proven that."

"I'm listening."

"Vista is the youngest of our Wards, and she's the only girl other than Shadow Stalker. But she's also a nice person, and quite unthreatening as Wards go. Also, she can retreat very rapidly if she has to."

Piggot ran her tongue around her teeth. "And the other two?"

"Clockblocker may be irreverent, but that's what we need in this situation. He can make jokes on the fly, and keep things from getting too serious. And once again, he has an extremely potent defensive power. Gallant will be useful for keeping tabs on the emotional states of Zachary and the Hebert girl, and for guiding the conversation."

Her plan almost sounded sensible, if it wasn't for the fact that it involved sending three teenagers in to talk with a parahuman who had inflicted major injuries on a Ward and three other teens. The trouble was, Emily could not think of a serious alternative that would not cause more problems in the long run. Gas the whole school? He may be immune, and he can throw grenades at bullet speed. Send in a capture team for the Hebert girl? Velocity already tried and failed, and if she gets hurt, it may send him berserk. She rubbed at her temples, trying to elicit a better option through sheer willpower. None came.

She sighed in frustration. "Do it. Set it up so that I can hear the conversation in realtime, and impress upon them that if I issue a pull-back order, they are to obey immediately. Do you understand?"

Miss Militia's response was crisp, betraying none of the self-doubt that Emily knew she had to be feeling. "Yes, Director. I understand perfectly."

<><>

The three heroes exited the front doors of Winslow High. Armsmaster was subvocalising on his helmet radio, issuing orders. Ahead of them were several PRT vehicles, which Zachary and Taylor were approaching. PRT soldiers, in full body armour, stood around the vehicles.

Velocity stared at Hannah. "I thought -"

"- that I was going to advocate an attack?" she finished for him. "Well, that was an option, and it still might be one, but when I heard her response, I knew she wouldn't go for it. So I went with Plan B."

"Which is to talk them down." The doubt was clear in his voice.

"Does it matter how it's done, so long as the threat is removed?"

He grimaced. "I'd like to say yes, but the safety of civilians comes first."

"Including the safety of Taylor Hebert," Hannah reminded him. "She's the victim in all this, remember."

"So she says," he replied.

"All the evidence points that way," she said. "Now, I don't know what Brute rating this Zachary has, or why he's decided to help her, but he seems to be predicating all of his actions around her safety. Which is another reason why we should not be harming her."

"She told him that he's allowed to hurt us." He didn't sound happy at that.

"Only if we attack him. And she specifically told him not to kill anyone."

He frowned. "I'm led to wonder why she was so careful about making that requirement."

She smiled sadly. "My first act as a parahuman was to kill a man. I'm just glad she's not taking that path." She looked up. "Oh, that idiot. Armsmaster!"

<><>

I looked at the PRT vehicles. They really were very big and bulky. So were the PRT troopers in front of them. "Maybe we should walk around."

"No, Taylor," Zach said brightly. "We have chosen to walk in this direction. This is a public thoroughfare. They have parked in our way and are trying to deliberately obstruct us. This is a bullying tactic. I will not allow them to do this to us."

"Okay, but you're not allowed to hurt them."

"If they do not try to harm you, then I will not hurt them." Zach's voice was serene. "I will not allow anyone to hurt you ever again."

"I don't think it works that way," I muttered. I raised my voice to address the PRT troopers. "Uh, guys? If you could just, you know, move the vehicles a bit? We want to walk through, and Zach doesn't like taking detours."

The troopers looked at each other, then back at me. I wondered what they were thinking, but before I could think too deeply about it, someone came cartwheeling over the hood of the nearest vehicle and landed with a light thump in front of us. I might have jumped, just a little, and let out a squeak of fright. Just a little one, really. Hardly there at all. Before it had made its way out of my throat, before I even knew that he had moved, Zach was standing directly in front of me.

"Well, hello," Assault greeted us cheerfully. "I presume you're Zachary, and the lady behind you is Taylor Hebert?"

"That is true," agreed Zachary. "You are standing in our way. Please step aside, so that we may continue."

Assault shook his head. "I don't think so, son." A more serious tone entered his voice. "You've hurt people. That's kind of against the law."

Having recognised Assault, I figured it had to be Battery in the white and grey costume, decorated with blue circuit-board lines, who stepped out from behind one of the vehicles.

"I have hurt people who hurt Taylor," Zach said in the same cheerful tone. "I will continue to hurt people who try to hurt Taylor. Taylor does not want me to hurt you. If you do not provoke me, then I will not hurt you. Please step aside."

"Well, as much as I appreciate seeing the big names step back from a teenage boy," Assault declared, "you did hurt kids. That's kind of a thing with me. So you're not going anywhere."

"Actually," I told him, "we are. We're getting on the bus and I'm going home. Because I am over this day." My voice was beginning to rise and become shriller, but I didn't care. "I've gone to my shithole of a school, been shoved into another shithole by my ex-best friend, been saved by the only person apart from my Dad who seems to care for my wellbeing, and now the fucking superheroes want to arrest him!" By now I was shouting, but my care factor was zero. "So why don't you just fuck off already?"

He shook his head. "Bus isn't coming, kid. Transit Authority's been alerted. No buses into a cape conflict zone." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Though I have to admit, this is the first time I've ever seen someone try to leave a cape battle by bus."

I took a deep breath but before I could shout at him some more, Zach intervened. "Taylor, you are becoming agitated. This is not good." He turned to Assault. "You are harming Taylor emotionally. You will step out of the way. Now."

Battery stepped forward. "Uh, you can hear Armsmaster telling you to back off, right?" Figuring that she wasn't talking to me or Zach, I glanced over my shoulder at where both Armsmaster and Miss Militia were standing at a discreet distance. As I watched, Armsmaster made a cut-off gesture across his throat.

"No." It was Assault's voice. Looking forward, I saw him set his jaw. "He doesn't get to just walk away." He leaned forward and grinned at Zach. It wasn't a friendly sort of grin. "There's something I've been wanting to try out for a while, and you're just asking for it." And then he launched himself not at Zach, but backward, at the vehicle behind him.

I knew enough about the Protectorate to be aware that Assault's powers involved the control and redirection of kinetic energy. But knowing it and seeing it are two different things. When Assault hit the vehicle, he bounced forward, faster than he should have been able to do. He slammed into Zach and rebounded off of him, causing me to gasp and step back, but Zach himself didn't move an inch. Moving even faster now, Assault hit the vehicle and ricocheted forward at Zach once more.

After that, he was bouncing back and forth between Zach and the vehicle faster than I could follow with my eyes; the clangclangclang of him hitting the van was one continuous metallic ringing. And Zach never moved at all. Until he did.

What happened next was too fast to see. I thought that Zach's arm blurred forward in Assault's general direction, but I couldn't be certain. There was a resounding crash and the PRT vehicle was slammed around to the side. It now bore a dent the same shape and size as Assault's body, the hero himself a mere dot in the distance, which I quickly lost sight of even as I tried to keep track of him.

"What the hell?" demanded Battery. "What did you do to him?"

"I have done no permanent damage to him," Zach said cheerfully. "I merely added a large amount of kinetic energy to his store. He must dissipate it all before he can stop moving."

"Yes, but where is he?" asked Miss Militia. "We only have your word that he's all right."

"He will bounce off the Protectorate headquarters force-field in just a moment," Zach explained, "which will give him a southward trajectory. I estimate that he will land in the Charles River in about fifteen minutes."

Armsmaster's hand suddenly went to the side of his helmet. "Say that again," he said tersely.

"I said -" began Zach.

"Not you," interrupted Armsmaster. "Repeat please, Control."

"Why fifteen minutes?" I asked, curious despite myself.

"That is the time that it would take to ascend to thirty thousand feet and descend once more, in a safe and controlled manner," he informed me. "By the time he reaches ground level once more, he should have exhausted the excess kinetic energy."

"The Charles River," Battery repeated. "That's in Boston."

"Yes." Zach did not need to elaborate.

Armsmaster cleared his throat. "The Protectorate base just took a hit which shorted out all of the force-field generators. They are now tracking a fast-moving object, heading southward in a ballistic arc. Projected impact point is … huh. Boston."

"That is what I said," agreed Zach.

Velocity looked stunned. "Did you just punch Assault into the next state?" His voice was just a little strangled.

"Could've been worse," I offered, trying not to laugh. "If we'd been facing west, Zach could've punched him into the next time zone."

"Now is not the time for levity, young lady," Armsmaster told me severely.

"Well, I might as well laugh," I told him to his face. "Because this situation's so fucking ridiculous that I've got to either laugh or cry. And I've done enough crying, thank you very much."

"Do not make Taylor cry," Zach warned him. "If you do, I will take away your weapon."

"Oh, don't do that," I told Zach. "If you do, he might cry. And I don't think I could take seeing a grown man cry, right now."

I was only joking, kind of, but I was also glad that Armsmaster was only a Tinker. If he'd had any sort of laser death beams from his eyes, I would've been in serious peril. That was how hard he was glaring at me.

"This has gone far enough," he gritted, grinding his teeth. I wondered how often he saw his orthodontist; the man had to be making a small fortune off of him. "I advise you to submit voluntarily to custody."

"Well, you're half right," I announced. "It's gone far enough. In fact, it passed the 'far enough' stage about a year ago, when absolutely nothing continued to get done by the school about my bullying, despite repeated complaints. And 'nothing' is still what's being done, only this time by the superheroes. Oh, wait, worse than nothing. Because you're still trying to arrest the only guy who's shown the slightest willingness to be a superhero and help me."

An embarrassed silence fell at that point; I didn't give a shit any more. "Come on, Zach," I told him, grabbing his hand. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

"I do not see a popsicle stand," Zach observed. "I presume that you are using a figure of speech. The context indicates that you want to leave the area." He didn't resist as I pulled him along.

"You got that right," I agreed.

"Where are we going, Taylor?" he asked.

I lowered my voice, in the (possibly vain) hope that none of the nearby capes could hear me. "Home," I murmured. "I just want to curl up on the couch and watch TV and eat ice-cream." Though they probably had my home address by now, and could probably beat me there.

"Ice cream on its own is not an adequate food source, Taylor," he told me seriously. "It is advisable to ingest a balanced meal first."

"Don't care," I retorted. "Ice cream therapy is a thing."

"I understand, Taylor." His tone never stopped being cheerful. "Sometimes, we must do things that are a little bit bad for us to feel better about ourselves."

"Huh. I never thought about it like that before." By now, we were well past the dented van and walking along the pavement away from Winslow. Behind us, I couldn't hear what the heroes were saying to each other, but I imagined that it was along the lines of 'are we just going to let them walk away?'

They didn't chase after us, not immediately. I suspected that they knew that Zach wouldn't punch any of them all the way to Boston, but they weren't taking any chances.

Which raised an interesting question. "Zach, you said that you added kinetic energy to Assault. How did you do that?"

His tone was earnest. "I applied kinetic energy, and manipulated his power to absorb it. The recoil is what sent him away."

"Wait, you manipulated his power?" I stared at him. "So you are a cape."

"No, Taylor." His voice was as patient as ever. "I am not a fashion accessory."

"What's that -" I pulled myself up. "Oh, ha ha. Funny joke. I meant a parahuman."

"I was not joking, Taylor," he said. "I do not know how to make a joke. Neither am I a parahuman."

"But you have powers!" I exclaimed. "You're really strong, and you can manipulate other peoples' powers!"

"Yes, I have powers," he agreed.

"Which makes you a parahuman," I insisted. "A person with powers is a parahuman."

"It would if I were human," he explained. "But I am not. Therefore, even though I possess powers, I do not fit the definition of a parahuman."

"Wait, what?" Looking at him, the contention was utterly ridiculous. He was as human as anyone. Definitely as human as me, maybe even more human than Emma and her friends. I shook my head. No, that's just unbelievable. He's just playing with my head. "Hah, you nearly had me," I told him with a grin. "But I'm sorry. That one's just not gonna fly. Not human, my skinny white butt."

"I believe that if I were to make any sort of comment regarding your butt, it would probably be taken as rude, and rightly so," he observed. Wow, he can learn after all. "So I will not."

I took hold of his arm and hugged it to my side. "Thank you, Zach. You're a real gentleman." I paused. "But your sense of humour does need work. You really don't know how to tell a joke?"

"I could tell one if it were told to me," he pointed out. "But I would not know what made it funny."

"Ah." I thought about that. "Okay, then. Jokes consist mainly of setting up an expectation in the mind of the listener, and then delivering a punchline that changes the entire context of the situation."

He tilted his head. "I believe that I may require an example to apply to that explanation."

I nodded. "All right. Og the caveman says to Zug the caveman, 'I just saw a sabre-toothed tiger go into your mother-in-law's cave.' Zug says, 'So what? What do I care about what happens to a sabre-toothed tiger?'"

Zach tilted his head slightly. "I presume the previous context is that I am supposed to be concerned for the mother-in-law, but then I learn that she is much more formidable than a sabre-toothed tiger. Humour makes use of misdirection. I think I understand."

I grinned. "Yup. Or there's this one. It's a riddle. Why do firemen wear big red suspenders?"

"Hm." Zach seemed to consider the question carefully. "Is it perhaps to do with the fact that fire engines are red as well, as an identification marker?"

Chuckling, I shook my head. "No. The answer is 'to keep their trousers up'."

His face cleared, and he smiled broadly. "I understand. I really do. The misdirection is in the colour of the braces. I believe I can see the humour in that."

I decided not to tell him that explaining a joke took all the fun out of it. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and that was what mattered. In the meantime, it was a nice day and I was enjoying walking along with his hand in mine.

I had no idea why Zach had decided that his job was to protect me, but I had little in the way of complaints about the way that he had gone about it. He was adamant that I was to be protected, and that made me feel warm inside, in a way that I hadn't for a very long time.

"I have a riddle for you, Taylor," Zach announced suddenly, breaking into my thoughts.

"Really?" I asked. "What is it?" I decided that whatever he said, I was going to laugh. He was making the effort, and he deserved to be rewarded for it.

Zach cleared his throat and spoke. "Why did the fireman wear green suspenders?"

I blinked. This was actually something I couldn't figure out. "Okay, I give in. Why did the fireman wear green suspenders?"

Was that a look of smugness on his face, however slight? "Because he accidentally left his red suspenders at home that day."

"Heh." I had told myself I would laugh, but I didn't need the reminder. "Heh heh heh. That's funny. I like it."

His earnest gaze searched my face. "That was actually funny? You are not merely saying that, Taylor?"

I squeezed his hand. "It is actually funny, Zach," I assured him, still chuckling. "You got the misdirection perfectly."

"It was not very funny, though," he observed. "You did not laugh very much."

"Well, no, but the jokes I told weren't very funny either," I pointed out. "They're pretty old, and they'll only get a laugh once from any one person. It's the surprise factor, you see."

"I believe that I understand," he agreed. "Misdirection rarely works twice in the same way."

I became aware of two vehicles approaching. Given that the road had been suspiciously clear of traffic for the last few minutes, I had little doubt that these were not casual road users.

One was coming from in front of us, while the other approached from behind. Looking back, I saw Armsmaster's cycle coming up to us at a steady pace, slowing as he neared us. Ahead was a PRT van, moving toward the curb as I watched.

"Don't attack anyone unless they show hostile intent to either of us," I warned Zach. "I don't want anyone else getting hurt today. And that includes you."

"I will not get hurt, Taylor," he assured me. And to be honest, given what I had seen of his capabilities, I tended to believe his words. "And I will endeavour not to hurt anyone else. But if they look as though they can hurt you unless I hurt them first, then I will have to hurt them. I am sorry, but that is the way it has to be."

I nodded. "I understand, Zach. Even if you have to hurt someone, try not to kill anyone."

"I know that you do not want me to kill anyone, so I will not do that," he assured me.

The PRT van pulled over to the curb, albeit on the wrong side of the road, and came to a halt. Armsmaster powered up alongside us, though in the far lane, and pulled up next to the van. As he got off the bike, the side door of the van opened and three costumed teens got out.

I was pretty sure that these were members of the Wards, given that they did not wear New Wave's distinctive costumes. The girl was about two years younger than me, and had on a blue-green costume with a skirt and a visor. One of the boys had a full body white costume with clocks all over it, while the other – I presumed he was a boy – wore grey armour with highlights gleaming off of it, very reminiscent of a knight of old.

Racking my brain, I was pretty sure that I knew who they were. "Vista, Clockblocker and Gallant," I ventured. "Or at least I think so."

"That is who they are," Zach confirmed. "Each of them has offensive capability. Do you want me to neutralise them?"

Hastily, I shook my head. "No, no. Let's just see what they want first."

"They want you to voluntarily enter custody," he reminded me. "That has already been made clear."

"Just let me do the talking to them, okay?" I didn't want to start a fight, and I didn't want a thoughtless remark by Zach starting one, either.

"Yes, Taylor," he agreed. "I will not speak to the Wards without your permission."

Which was a little more than I'd meant, but I left it alone. "Thanks."

The PRT soldier who had driven the van stayed in the vehicle. Good. Armsmaster stood alongside it, his halberd still racked on his back – bad and good – with the three Wards flanking him. I opened my mouth to ask them to step aside, but Zach spoke first.

"Armsmaster!" he called out. Oh, shit. Don't provoke him. "I have a riddle for you."

That got everyone's attention, including mine. I had no idea what the Wards were thinking of that.

"What?" asked the head of the Protectorate ENE. "A riddle? Is this some kind of joke to you?"

"I am learning how to tell jokes. This is the riddle. Why did the fireman wear blue suspenders to work?"

Armsmaster stared back at him. A long, tense moment passed. "I don't know," he grunted.

The flicker of Zach's smile was almost too fast for me to see. "Because he lost his green suspenders," he explained.

There was another long pause, during which time I began to chuckle. When Armsmaster spoke, his voice was puzzled. "I don't get it."

"Don't worry, I do," I managed to say between giggles.

"When we get the chance," Zach added kindly, "I will explain it to you."

I thought I caught a snort of laughter from one of the Wards. Neither Gallant nor Vista was smiling, so I figured that it was Clockblocker.

I indicated the Wards barring our path. "Okay," I said, "so what's this?"

<><>

Dean groaned mentally when Clockblocker snorted with laughter. Be professional, damn it, he wanted to tell his teammate. Even though Vista had swirls of humour washing through her aura, she was managing not to smile, despite being years younger than Dennis.

"Okay," the tall lanky girl said, indicating Dean and the others. "So what's this?"

They'd been brought up to speed on the way over. The girl was, as far as anyone knew, not a parahuman. Her name was Taylor Hebert, she was a sophomore at Winslow High.

The boy's name was Zachary. He was not a Winslow student. He was a parahuman, with tentative ratings of Brute 8 or higher, and possibly Mover. So far, no background checks had been able to bring anything up on him under that name or powerset. There had been no known contact between him and Taylor Hebert before this day.

There had been a brief rundown on the situation to this point. Zachary was known to be extremely protective of Taylor, so under no circumstance were they to attack her. Four teenagers had been injured by him, possibly as a retaliation for bullying actions taken toward her. There had then been a confrontation in the cafeteria, which had ended inconclusively. Outside, the pair had been confronted by Assault (acting against orders) which had ended … bizarrely.

<><>

His first view of Taylor Hebert and her aura did not make him overly optimistic of resolving it peacefully. She had so much hurt inside her, extending so deep, that it was practically geological in nature. Bright sparks of hope were breaking it up, but they had so far to go that he wasn't sure she would ever be free of it. And some of the pain was transforming to anger, coming to the surface in a manner not dissimilar to magma in a volcanic vent. If she ever truly blows her top … watch out.

Dean cleared his throat. "Miss Hebert, we've been asked to speak with you, and see if we can't bring this to a satisfactory conclusion."

From her aura, Taylor Hebert wasn't overly thrilled by the idea. As for her companion …

Dean blinked. Okay, that's really weird. He's just not showing up. Where Zachary was, was … a blank. He may as well have not been there at all.

Just as he was beginning to seriously wonder about that, Zach glanced over at him. A slight smile appeared to play over the boy's mouth, and then his emotions were on full view, just like everyone else's.

Before Dean could consider the ramifications of that, Taylor spoke. "Satisfactory for you or for me?"

"Yes," declared Clockblocker firmly.

Vista sighed slightly. "What he means is that we don't want this to get any worse. We don't want to fight. Can we talk?"

Taylor's jaw hardened. "Do I have a choice?"

Zachary spoke up. His voice was cheerful and bright, as if he were talking about a favourite movie. "You always have a choice, Taylor. We can keep walking, or you can talk. That is your choice. If they try to stop us, I will neutralise them. That is their choice."

Dean steeled himself not to react, even as Clockblocker tensed and Vista took half a step back – no, wait, she stretched space between them very slightly. "We're not attacking you," he reminded them.

"I don't want to fight, either," admitted Taylor. "I don't want anyone else getting hurt." Pausing, she turned toward Armsmaster. "So is there any word about Assault yet?"

The older hero nodded once. "They just fished him out of the Charles River. He'll be fine."

Taylor let out a tiny sigh; her aura swirled with relief. "Good. I'm glad."

"Wait, wait." That was Clockblocker. "You punched Assault so hard he bounced off the Protectorate base and landed in Boston? And you were able to aim him at the river?"

"Yes, Clockblocker," Zachary answered promptly. "I believe that you call it a bank shot. It was not very difficult."

Clockblocker shook his head; his aura showed strong tones of disbelief. His voice was barely audible as he muttered, "Bullshit. Just bullshit."

"Ignore him," Dean advised them. "So, Taylor. Can I call you Taylor?"

Taylor shrugged, pretending indifference, although her aura showed signs of both trepidation and awe. "Might as well. Free country."

"Taylor, then." Dean did his best to sound friendly, unthreatening. "As you can see, we have a problem. I'd like your help in resolving it."

"I have a solution." She stared at him, her defiance only partly real. "You step aside, Zach and I walk home, you leave us alone, nobody else gets hurt. Problem solved."

"The trouble with that is people have been injured. The law requires that the guilty party be at least taken into custody. We would prefer this to happen with as little in the way of problems as possible." He looked at her hopefully, expecting more defiance, or perhaps acquiescence. What he didn't expect was triumph.

"Yeah, that's true. People have been hurt." She jabbed a thumb at her chest. "Me. I've been getting bullied for more than a year by those bitches. Today, they shoved me in my locker with the most horrible shit I've ever smelled. They locked me in there." She took a step closer to him, anger bubbling up through the triumph. "So if you want to arrest someone for hurting someone else, arrest those three bitches for provoking Zach into protecting me. I'll even give you names -"

Armsmaster stirred. "That's not necessary. We have the names -"

She didn't even look around. "Shut the fuck up. I'm not talking to you. The names of the bitches are Emma Barnes. Madison Clements. And Sophia fucking Hess. Arrest them, not Zach.."

Clockblocker and Vista showed signs of shock, even as Dean felt the same emotion spark in his own brain. Sophia Hess? Shadow Stalker? Does Armsmaster even know … He looked at Armsmaster, and saw resignation and irritation. Shit. He knew, and he was holding out on us.

Still, he had to be sure. "You're certain about these people. Certain that they're specifically the ones who did this to you?"

"Yes," Zach stated flatly. "I saw it. Sophia pushed Taylor into the locker. Emma locked it. Madison watched and laughed. Then they tried to stop me from getting to the locker so that I could let Taylor out."

Fuck. This is a lot more complicated than I was led to believe. From the auras of the other two Wards, they felt the same way. "I … did not know that."

"Well, you know it now." Taylor stared at him challengingly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Dean had heard about 'no-win situations', but he'd never been placed into one until now. If she's telling the truth – and her aura says she is – then we, as the Wards, have fucked up massively. Attacking Zach right now would be amazingly unwise, as well as being totally unjust.

But if we just let her walk away, that makes the Wards look bad, too.

No matter what I do, I'm screwed.

It was Vista who saved him. "Taylor, what are your plans right now?"

Taylor turned to look at her. "Right now? Walk home. Get there eventually. Have something to eat. Why?"

Vista was nothing if not persistent. "Do you plan on committing any crimes, or allowing Zach to commit any?"

The tall lanky girl snorted. "Pfft, no. Zach, you're not going to commit any crimes, are you?"

"No, Taylor. I do not intend to commit any crimes." The effect was spoiled slightly when he went on. "Unless you tell me to."

"No." Taylor shook her head. "If you committed crimes, that would make me unhappy."

"I will not commit any crimes." Zach's voice was definitive. "Unless helping you forces me to commit a crime. Then I will commit a crime, but I will apologise afterward."

With a wry twist to her mouth, and a streak of humour running through her aura, Taylor turned back to Vista. "I guess that's the best you're gonna get."

"Thank you." Vista turned to Gallant; he caught the wash of longing in her aura, but did his best to ignore it. "Gallant, what do you think?" Is she telling the truth?

Dean had seen Taylor's aura. There had been no deception involved in what she said. Or, for that matter, in Zachary's aura. He took a deep breath, making a palm-out gesture to Taylor and Zachary. "Can we just … discuss things for a moment?"

Taylor's brows drew down. "How long is a moment?"

"Uh, five minutes? Tops? And then we'll figure out what to do. I promise."

She pressed her lips together. "You've got four minutes."

"Thank you." Gallant stepped back, gesturing for the others to come with him.

Armsmaster ignored the gesture, remaining there obdurately.

"Sir?" Dean asked.

Armsmaster glanced around. "What?"

"Um, we need to discuss that important issue? The one that won't wait?"

"This isn't the time -"

Dean could read Armsmaster's desire not to talk about it, but this only fuelled his determination. "Sir, if not now, when? This is very relevant to the situation at hand."

Armsmaster could have been carved from stone.

"Or, you know," Clockblocker added cheerfully, "we could just talk about it in front of them. That's probably easier."

Dean could have hugged the white-costumed jokester. He'd struck exactly the right note needed to break the impasse; lips pressed to a razor-thin line, Armsmaster turned toward them. The older hero took one step, then turned his head to address Taylor and Zach. "Don't move."

"Oh, we're not going anywhere," Taylor agreed, then ostentatiously checked her watch. "For another three minutes and thirty seconds, anyway."

They moved down the pavement until Dean figured that they were out of casual earshot of the pair. For all he knew, Zach could hear a pin drop in Chicago, but there was such a thing as being too paranoid. "Okay then. Sir. Seriously?"

Armsmaster's voice was hard and cold. "Be very careful, Gallant. I'm still your commanding officer."

"I understand that, sir," Dean agreed. "What I don't understand is why you saw fit to hold something that – that significant back from us. Talking to them, I get it. Making us look stupid by not telling us everything? Did you want us to fail?"

"The trouble is that it's very hard to compartmentalise information like that," Armsmaster stated flatly. "If we told you that Shadow Stalker had been injured, that would give you an erroneous view of the situation. If we amended that to the fact that she was in her civilian identity, and then you found out that Zachary's only victims were her alleged bullies …"

" … we would then find out what you were trying to keep from us anyway," Clockblocker finished for him. "But that's what I don't understand. Why were you trying to keep it from us?"

"Because he didn't want us to be prejudiced in their favour when we were talking to them," Dean guessed. "I'm right, aren't I?" No answer was forthcoming, but the sourness in Armsmaster's aura spoke volumes.

"If you'd gotten away with it, what would you have done?" piped up Vista. "Just swept it under the carpet?"

Armsmaster shook his head. "No. We would have investigated, quietly, and just as quietly eased Shadow Stalker out of the spotlight."

"In other words, you would have handled it," Clockblocker said, filling the word with derision.

"Well, I'm not surprised that she was doing it," Vista noted. "She was mean."

"Yeah." Clockblocker nodded. "You gotta admit, she's not a nice person. Even if she does have a nice -"

"Do not finish that sentence." Wonder of wonders, Armsmaster's growl shut Clockblocker up.

"Okay then." Dean took a deep breath. "So one of ours bullied that girl – and unless she can fake her emotions better than anyone ever, it's definitely true – to the point where some random Brute pops up out of the blue to save her."

"And then, just to make things even better," Clockblocker put in, "we decide to attack the actual hero of the piece. The guy who saved her."

"And Assault gets punched all the way to Boston," put in Vista. "Just in case we didn't look stupid enough already."

"I still think that's bullshit," Clockblocker muttered. "Okay, so what do we do about it?"

Just then, something passed overhead, with a fading "Woohoooooo" noise trailing after it. Everyone looked around to see a vaguely human-shaped dot, airborne, disappearing into the middle distance.

"Wait," Dean blurted. "He can fly? Nobody said that he could fly."

"I don't think he's flying," Vista said carefully. "It looks like a ballistic arc."

"Vista is correct." Armsmaster agreed absently. "He's jumping."

Dean blinked. "How far is he jumping?"

Vista rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I'd guesstimate about half a mile?"

After a moment, Armsmaster nodded. "I concur."

Dean and Clockblocker looked back to where the two had been standing; there was only a pair of footprints, sunk about an inch into the concrete. "Bullshit," Clockblocker muttered. "Just bullshit."

Actions

↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Comments (2)

Kudos

Comments

Post Comment

Note:

All fields are required. Your email address will not be published.

Guest name

Guest email

Plain text with limited HTML ? Embedded images ( tags) will be displayed as HTML, including the image's source link and any alt text.

Comment

10000 characters left

Footer

About the Archive

Site Map

Diversity Statement

Content Policy

DMCA Policy

Site Status

Policy Questions & Abuse Reports

Technical Support & Feedback

Development

otwarchive v0.9.458.3

Known Issues

GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTW

Chapter 814 - 2-3