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Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Categories:

F/MF/F

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Taylor/BrianAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Lily | Flechette | FoilEidolon/OC

Characters:

Language:

English

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Published:2024-11-28Completed:2024-11-28Words:151,707Chapters:20/20Comments:70Kudos:361Bookmarks:192Hits:14,065

It Gets Worse

Ack13

Chapter 4: Surprise!

Summary:

Jan 11 2011

Chapter Text

Taylor

Dad's face got even more serious. "Taylor, talk to me. Why do you think you might be a cape?"

Dropping my bag on the floor, I started to pace back and forth; I had too much energy in me to stand still. "Because weird shit's been happening all day. People trying to get at me and failing."

He frowned. "Get at you?"

I gestured vaguely. "Prank me. Bully me."

"Christ." In two long strides, he was across the room, lifting the phone off of the hook.

"Dad!" He started pressing buttons. "Dad!"

Pausing, he turned toward me. "What?"

"Who are you calling?"

"Who else? The police. And the school. I should have known. Nothing's changed, has it?"

I shook my head. "It's not the way you think it is."

Slowly, he put the phone down again. "Explain."

I began to pace once more. "For the last two days, they've been trying to prank me again. And it's been backfiring on them, dramatically. Yesterday, I thought I was just lucky. Today … it was more than luck. A lot more."

"What do you mean, a lot more?"

"Come on, I'll show you." I headed for the stairs.

"Show me what?" Puzzled, he followed.

"You'll see."

<><>

Emily

"Renick. A word, if you will."

Deputy Director Paul Renick looked up from his terminal; beside him, a half-eaten sandwich rested on a paper plate. "Director," he greeted her, rising to his feet. "I'm glad you're okay."

She nodded briefly. "Thanks." Closing the door behind her, she approached his desk. "I need to run something past you. Get your input. I don't need doubletalk and I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear."

"Well, of course." He pulled the chair out from behind his desk and offered it to her. "Have a seat."

She took it, lowered herself into it; it creaked under her weight. "Thank you. Now, you know the basics of what just happened to my office."

"Well, yes. I'll be speaking to Aegis very firmly when I get the chance."

A shake of the head. "There's more to it than that. Shadow Stalker was coming to me about something. Trying to give me some information."

"What was the information?"

"That's just it. She was prevented from giving it to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Prevented?"

"She came into my office, very agitated. Told me she wanted to warn me about something. Began to speak. The following things interrupted her." Raising a hand, she ticked off points. "Phone call. Phone call on my mobile that was a wrong number. You came in to ask if I wanted anything from the canteen."

He blinked. "I was hungry."

"And you've done it before, yes." Her voice was impatient. "The point is in the timing. After you, there was that email on S-class threats and then the Endbringer siren."

"Wasn't that a computer glitch?"

"It was, but again – timing." She raised a finger. "While I was on the phone to Ops, she decided to write me a note. Her pencil broke. I gave her my pen mug. She picked two pens that didn't work and one that put ink all over her pad. Then I gave her my pen."

His eyes flicked to the pocket of her jacket. "Uh, where is it?"

Her lips compressed. "It came apart in her hand. There are bits and pieces all over my office. The people cleaning up have orders to retrieve all the bits intact."

"Okay, that's a bit beyond the normal." He rubbed his chin. "What happened next?"

"She took a permanent marker and started to write on the wall. And that was when Aegis came through the window. He put her through the same bit of wall she was writing on."

"That's got to be more than a coincidence."

She nodded. "Precisely what I was thinking. And this also happened with perfect timing. I even had time to duck out of the way."

Now he had a frown on his face. "This is starting to sound like far more than random chance."

She heard a certain note in his voice. "But … ?"

"But it would also be extremely difficult to set up deliberately, with that sort of timing."

She nodded. "Yes, the timing. To have any one of those incidents, or even two or three in a row, are understandable. We've had days like that. But."

"But all that bad luck, one bit after the other, precisely timed to prevent her from telling you … what?"

"I'm beginning to get an idea of the shape of it," she growled. "Something that can manipulate both people and random events. A cape who's almost certainly got it in for Shadow Stalker for some reason." She shook her head. "But they don't want her dead, just not telling me what she knows. Two feet either way and Aegis would have put her through a wall brace. Broken back, fractured skull, at the very least. She could be dead right now. But she's only in the hospital."

"Well, maybe …" He paused.

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe she was trying to warn you about whoever was doing this to her. And that the cape was doing it to stop her from warning you. But like you said, they didn't want her dead."

She paused, thinking about it, then shook her head. "No, it doesn't follow. Whoever this is can manipulate, well, probability, on a very precise scale. The blatant way they did it almost ensures that I know that something's going on, and that I'll figure out what it is. That defeats their purpose."

He glanced around the room. She frowned. "What?"

"Just waiting for something to happen to stop us from talking about this."

"Maybe this hypothetical cape's got all his attention focused on Shadow Stalker." She rubbed her chin. "If she wanted to warn us about such a cape … hmm. Could be that she's already encountered him or her. There was the duct tape incident, just after school."

"I heard about that, but not the details." Renick looked intrigued.

She pointed at his terminal. "You've got a computer. Call up social media. See what hits there have been on Sophia Hess over the last few hours. Because with something like that, there's almost certainly going to be pictures."

<><>

Taylor

I sat at the computer in my room, bringing up social media pages. Dad leaned over my shoulder, looking at the images displayed.

"Christ, I see what you mean." He tried hard not to laugh, but the pictures on the screen were just too funny. "How in hell did they end up like that?"

"Well, as far as I can tell," I replied, "Emma and Madison were standing on the toilet lids, preparing to douse me in juice and soda, while Sophia held the door shut. Not sure what the pudding was all about, though."

"And Sophia?" He indicated the third series of pictures. They were … weirdly compelling. Hard to look away from.

"They were chasing me with duct tape. Apparently you shouldn't run with that."

"Apparently not," he agreed, between chuckles. "Oh, man. I don't know if I could do that on purpose, let alone by accident."

"Which is why I think I'm a cape," I explained. "I think I bring bad luck to people who are trying to harm me." Quickly, I sketched in what had happened on Monday.

"But not to anyone else?"

"Um." I paused. "I overheard the janitor saying that he'd spilled coffee on himself and he was going to his office to clean himself up. That was the only reason he was going past my locker. And that police officer did say that they lost an important case just in time to get mine."

He took his glasses off and began to polish them. "So … whatever this is, it inflicts bad luck to help you or to stop people from hurting you."

"I guess." I frowned. "But nothing good has happened. I haven't found any lost wallets full of money, or won a free trip to Hawaii or anything like that."

"Hey." His voice was severe. "You got out of that locker, right? All those pranks against you failed, right? Don't be greedy."

Abashed, I nodded. "Right, sorry, Dad."

"Though if you do find any wallets full of cash, I want half."

His expression was almost deadpan enough to fool me; I shoved him. "Dad, really?"

His smile broke through again. "No. Seriously, though, you have to remember that if you do find a wallet full of cash, it means that someone's lost a wallet full of cash. Okay?"

"Okay." I sighed. "But now I'm worried."

"Worried about what?" His glasses went back on his face.

"I didn't mean for this power to do any of that." I pointed at the pictures on the screen. "I didn't even know I had powers, or that it was even doing that."

"Huh." He frowned. "What if you don't actually have powers?"

"What?" I was startled. "But – everything that's happened -"

"No, no, hear me out." He raised a finger. "What if it's someone else around the school who's got the powers, and has decided to protect you with them?"

"What, without telling me?"

A shrug. "Secret identities are a thing. And if you're getting bullied that regularly, people might not want to be seen to be protecting you."

I thought about that for a moment. "But … there was nobody around when I was in the bathroom stall. Nobody but Emma and Sophia and Madison."

"Nobody that you saw. They could have been outside and you wouldn't have known." He considered that. "Or invisible, or something. In fact, invisibility or telekinesis could probably do exactly what we're seeing here."

"So wait," I protested. "You're saying that I had some invisible person hanging around while I was in the shower? That's majorly creepy, right there!"

"Hmm." He considered that. "Might be a girl."

"Only makes it slightly less creepy," I pointed out. "And this guardian angel's doing this stuff without asking me or being asked to do it. People could get hurt."

"Only because they're trying to hurt you," Dad pointed out carefully.

"Still, what if someone decides that I'm a cape because of all this? And comes after you? Or if the PRT decides that I'm a dangerous out-of-control cape and tries to shut me down?"

Dad rubbed his chin. "Well, there is one thing we can do."

<><>

Emily

Renick tried to hide a smirk. "Okay, I'm convinced. This isn't random chance."

Emily repressed the urge to laugh; the images were indeed highly amusing. But that wasn't the point. "You're correct, of course. This is the work of outside forces. What happened to those other two girls, as well as Shadow Stalker, is definitely worth looking into. Every instinct is telling me that there's a cape at the bottom of this."

He frowned. "Are you thinking Master?"

"No." She shook her head. "Shaker. What happened in my office was the work of something that could manipulate random incidents to give them precise timing. Probability manipulation. All aimed at preventing Shadow Stalker from saying what she wanted to say."

"And she kept trying to say it, which put her in the hospital." Renick's expression was grim.

"So whoever this is, they don't care about the people they hurt," she replied. "This could be a problem."

"No, this is a problem." Renick pointed at the image of Sophia Hess, bound in duct tape. "Whoever this is targeted her in both civilian and heroic identities. He or she knows who Shadow Stalker is behind the mask. And isn't worried about attacking her either way."

Emily grimaced. "Damn it. If it's not one thing …"

Her mobile rang; surprised, she glanced down and hooked it from her pocket. "Director Piggot here."

"Director, this is Lieutenant Bronson, down in the lobby. Two people just came in, a girl and an older guy. The girl wants to talk to you. She says it's about what happened at Winslow today."

She stared at Renick, her eyes full of surmise. "Escort them up at once."

<><>

Taylor

About five minutes out from home, the Endbringer sirens started wailing. I turned to Dad. "That doesn't sound good at all."

He leaned down and switched on the radio. Soft country music spilled out of it. No bulletins, no warnings, nothing. Just the music. "That's odd."

"Maybe it's a drill or something?"

"Well, just in case it isn't, I'll head for the Central Library shelter. It's closest."

"Good idea." We kept listening for anything Endbringer-related on the radio for the next few minutes, but nothing came up. Traffic was beginning to get hectic, with multiple small collisions and snarls, but nothing came near us; it was almost as if the road were being cleared for us, giving us a clear path. I didn't say anything and nor did Dad. Neither of us wanted to break the spell.

And then the sirens just quit sounding. I looked around, confused. "Maybe it was a mistake?"

Dad shook his head. "They don't make mistakes with that sort of thing." Soft music continued to roll from the speakers.

"Right," I stated. "So, uh, yeah, the PRT building?" I had been almost relieved when the sirens went off, because that would delay the inevitable. But there was no Endbringer. There was just me and Dad and my guardian angel. I had to see this through.

<><>

Emily

Two people were escorted into the conference room by the PRT soldiers. The first was a middle-aged man, tall and skinny, with a weak chin and a balding head. His glasses gave him a slight air of bewilderment. Emily assessed him with a glance, then turned to the girl.

She was also tall and skinny, wearing sneakers, jeans, a T-shirt and round-lensed glasses. Long dark hair spilled down her back, but she had his eyes. If these aren't father and daughter, I will eat my desk.

Emily rose and held out her hand. "Director Emily Piggot. And you are …?"

The man stepped forward, accepting the handshake. "Danny Hebert. This is my daughter Taylor."

"Mr Hebert, pleased to meet you." She shook his hand. Have a seat."

Each of them drew out a chair and sat down; she took her own seat once more. Lacing her fingers before her, she eyed them closely.

"Thank you for seeing us so quickly." That was Hebert; his daughter seemed to be just sitting, quietly nervous.

"I will admit, the happenings today at Winslow have certainly gained my attention." Piggot's tone was grimly amused. "I did not expect someone to turn up on my doorstep about them." She paused a beat, focusing her attention on the girl. "Why are you here, by the way?"

The girl glanced at her father, then back at Emily. "All of this … it's not me. I'm not controlling it. But things are happening. I wanted to warn you before things got too far out of control, before someone got badly hurt." She blinked. "Wait, you already knew about this?"

A single nod. I love moments like this. "We're aware of what's been happening. However, you say it isn't you?"

"No, I don't think it is," Taylor told her. "You see -"

Emily held up a hand. "One moment." Taking a digital recorder from her pocket, she placed it on the table and pressed the button to start recording. "This is Director Emily Piggot of PRT East North East, commencing interview on … the eleventh of January, two thousand eleven. The time is … five fifteen. I am interviewing Danny and Taylor Hebert regarding potential cape-related activities that have being going on at Winslow High. Taylor claims that while the events are connected to her, she's not responsible for them. Taylor?"

"Okay, um. I first started noticing weird things happening yesterday. I've been getting bullied, kind of a lot, and I had to spend a week away from school, but when I came back they tried to start it up again. But it all started going wrong."

Emily leaned forward slightly. "Define 'going wrong'."

<><>

Taylor

I took a deep breath, tried to think back. "Um, on Monday, they were trying to target me in dodge ball, but they kept hitting each other. And then Sophia tried to steal my clothes when I was in the shower -"

"Hold up a moment." Director Piggot's tone was mildly curious. "For the record, what's this Sophia's full name?"

"Sophia Hess. She's one of the three people who's been really bullying me the most."

Piggot tilted her head to one side, very slightly. "And the other two?"

"Uh, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements."

A nod from the Director prompted me to go on. "Thank you. Proceed. What happened when Sophia Hess tried to steal your clothes?"

"She stepped on a bar of soap and fell over. She was too winded to stop me from getting my clothes back from her. And then later when all three of them tried to ambush me with water balloons, they somehow ended up falling all over each other and getting themselves with their own water balloons."

A stifled snort from the Director made me pause; I could see that the woman had her lips pressed tightly together. Piggot took a deep breath through her nostrils, then nodded. "Go on. What happened next?"

Feeling more confident, I went on. "Well, they left me alone for the rest of the day. But today, they tried to get me with juice and soda in the bathrooms. Standing on toilet seats and pouring them over the top of the partition."

"And they somehow slipped and ended up in those ridiculous positions," filled in Piggot. "I've seen the photos."

"Both toilet seats came off at the same time," I clarified. "I saw them."

Piggot raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. For a coincidence, that is."

"I was starting to wonder, even then," I admitted. "But it wasn't until Sophia tried to chase me down with some boys that things really started getting bizarre."

"This is the incident where they managed to tie themselves up with the duct tape, correct?"

I nodded earnestly. "Yeah. But it's the bathroom incident that's got me worried."

The Director leaned back in her chair. "Worried?"

"Well, if it's not me, and I know I'm not doing it deliberately," I explained, "then there's got to be someone else doing it. A guardian angel. Which is why I'm here."

"A guardian angel." There was a certain amount of scepticism in Piggot's voice.

"Well, that's what I'm calling whoever it is," I told her. "Personally, I'm thrilled that I've got a guardian angel. I haven't had to watch my back in school for two whole days. If he'd just tell me who he was, I'd thank him from the bottom of my heart. But I'd also ask him to ease up a little. So far he hasn't gone too far over the top, but I'm scared that he might hurt someone badly."

"Too late," Piggot told me flatly. "Someone has been hurt badly."

My stomach felt as though it was going to drop to about the level of my sneakers. "Oh god. Who? How?"

"Your friend Sophia Hess." I wanted to correct her, inform her that Sophia wasn't my friend, but Piggot was going on. "She's in the hospital right now with a broken collarbone, several broken ribs and what may turn out to be a severe concussion. All due to your so-called 'guardian angel'."

"No, that's impossible," I protested. "I saw her when she got duct taped. She was fine. Maybe a little gravel rash, but that would be all of it."

<><>

Emily

It was possible, Emily assumed, that the Hebert girl was good enough at acting to fool her. Possible, but very unlikely; the look of shock on the teen's face would have been hard to counterfeit. So she's telling the truth. Or thinks she is. A huge point in her favour, of course, was the fact that she had come in to tell the PRT what was happening. Or what she thought was happening. In my experience, capes don't usually just go around secretly helping people for the fun of it. There's always a price to pay.

"That's not where she acquired the injuries," Piggot told the girl. "She figured out there was a cape involved just a little bit before you did, and came in to tell us about it. Or at least I'm guessing that's what she was trying to do."

She didn't miss the flare of fear in Taylor's eyes. It wasn't hard to decipher; from the moment that Sophia Hess had been named as a bully, pieces of the puzzle had begun to click together. She still didn't have the whole picture, but there was enough there to guess at the rest. She thinks that Shadow Stalker wanted to bad-mouth her to the PRT. Which is possibly correct. She was certainly angry enough. And if Shadow Stalker has been bullying her enough to get the attention of this 'guardian angel', then the duct tape would definitely make sense.

"So what did she say about me?"

Piggot gave her a wry smile. "Absolutely nothing. Every time she tried to pass on whatever information she had, she was interrupted." She paused, thinking about it. "About a dozen times, all told."

"So how did she come to be injured?" That was the father, Danny.

"The last interruption came as she was trying to write it on my office wall," Piggot explained. "Aegis was distracted by a flock of seagulls and crashed through my office window. He then put Miss Hess through the wall she was writing on."

<><>

Taylor

I stared at Dad and he stared at me. "Okay, there's two things that really worry me about that," I told the Director. "First, the fact that this was happening while I was still at home. The second thing is that I don't see how that could have been done with telekinesis."

"Unless Aegis was pulled through the window?" Dad suggested.

The Director shook her head firmly. "I spoke with him at length and he confirmed that he was just coming in too low. Plus, the timing was incredibly precise. It was with everything that happened to her. There is no way that anyone could have manoeuvred them into just the right positions at the right time, not to mention have two different people call me up at just the right times, without something far beyond simple telekinesis."

I was lost. "Beyond …?" I asked blankly.

"Probability manipulation," she explained briskly. "Changing the likelihood of some specific event happening until it's either inevitable or impossible." She laced her fingers together and looked at me over them. "Now, from your description and from what I understand of the events so far, you are correct in being worried abut your 'guardian angel'. So far, he's only escalated events, turning the tables on your bullies. But what if he decides that someone poses a threat to your life? Will he kill to protect you, even if it turns out that he's wrong, later on?"

"I don't know." I shook my head. "I don't even know who might be doing it. I don't have any friends in Winslow." Well, maybe Greg Veder, I amended silently.

"Are you certain?" the Director asked.

"Okay, there's one guy who kind of likes me," I told her, "but he's a bit of a creeper. Also, he was nowhere near me any of the times it happened." I paused. "Except once, in World Affairs class. But not any of the other times. Also, if he was protecting me, he'd be calling me up and telling me about it. The boy can't keep a secret."

"I'll have to take your word about his lack of discretion," she replied thoughtfully. "But the questions to consider are twofold: what does your 'guardian angel' consider sufficient reason to use his powers on your behalf, and what level of surveillance does he have on you in order to know when to use them?"

"Well, if this Sophia was affected by his powers while we were still at home, he must have been focusing on her, not on him," Danny suggested. "Which means he can switch surveillance targets. And that he can tell if someone is about to do something to affect Taylor adversely."

"Well, she could have been trying to talk about something else altogether," I pointed out. "Although, knowing how vindictive she can be, I'd say that's not totally likely."

"Just as a side-note, I'll need full disclosure on her bullying activities, so that I can pass them on to the appropriate authorities," the Director noted casually. "I may not have jurisdiction over non-parahumans, but that doesn't mean that I'm willing to let something like that slide."

"Don't forget Emma and Madison too," I told her. "They're just as bad."

"Oh yes, of course," she agreed. "So, regarding your 'guardian angel'. Does he seem to be willing to strike at innocent targets, or bring disproportionate punishment on people trying to prank you?"

I thought about that for a moment. "Not that I could see, in either circumstance. But the janitor had spilled coffee on himself and the police had lost an important case. Those two incidents worked out to my favour, but it involved other people having bad luck."

She frowned. "I didn't think the police were involved in this situation. And what does the janitor have to do with it?"

I blinked. "Uh, you didn't know?"

Her frown deepened. "Didn't know what?"

Dad cleared his throat. "Monday last week, Taylor was locked into her locker by some of the bullies. She can't prove that it was any of the three main ones, but by all accounts it was very nasty in there. The janitor who let her out had just spilled coffee on himself and only went that way because he was going to clean himself off. And the police have taken notice because they had a major case fall through just that day."

Piggot's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "Well, that puts an interesting spin on matters. The locker was very nasty, you say?"

I shuddered. "Imagine sharing a vertical steel coffin with the worst toxic waste imaginable. Then square it. That's about one percent of what it was like. I still can't get to sleep with the lights off."

"Hmm." She rubbed her chin. "Excuse me a moment." Standing up, she left the room, taking the voice recorder with her.

I shared a glance with Dad. "Okay, that was a bit weird," I murmured.

"Well, at least she's sympathetic," he pointed out. "And she believes you."

"That is something," I agreed, then paused. "Is it just me, or is she showing a tiny bit more interest in Sophia than Emma or Madison?"

"Huh." He seemed to think about that for a moment. "It's possible. I didn't notice. Though I found it interesting that she was talking to Sophia in her office when Aegis came visiting. We had to come in with news of a potentially dangerous cape. She just walked in off of the street, and still got to talk to the Director face-to-face."

"Yeah," I replied. "I -" The door opened again, and I shut up.

<><>

Emily

Having taken care of preparations, she re-entered the room and sat down. "So, where were we?"

"You were just talking about how what happened last Monday puts an interesting spin on things." Dad looked interested. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, it gives us more data points to work with, for one thing." She smiled blandly. "I'm presuming you skipped school until this week?"

"Uh, yeah," Taylor agreed. "Dad took care of me. I took a lot of showers, the first few days. At least now I can work up a sweat without wanting to run screaming."

Emily looked directly at her. "Well, take it from me that experiences like that will change you," she told me softly. "They will always be with you. There's no getting away from that fact. However, it's up to you what you do with that."

Taylor opened her mouth to reply, but the words never came out, because at that moment the door opened. A PRT soldier stood there; incongruously, in one hand, he held a bright red plastic bucket.

Taking a step into the room, he hoisted the bucket and let fly with the contents. They were supposed to go all over Taylor – those were his specific orders – but at the last moment, he got one foot caught behind the other. The bucket turned, and Emily found herself deluged with cold tap water. The soldier ended up face-down on the floor, the bucket on his head.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the dribble of water from Emily's soaked clothing on to the floor. Then the soldier scrambled to his feet, fighting to drag the bucket from his head. "Ma'am, sorry, ma'am," he blurted. "I didn't mean – I tripped -"

"Quite all right, Corporal," she told him. "I kind of expected that to happen." She rose to her feet and gestured to the other two. "Come on. The corporal needs to find a mop and clean up this mess. I, on the other hand, need to change. We can talk some more afterward."

<><>

Taylor

"Okay, what the heck happened there?"

As I spoke, I took a sandwich and nibbled on it. Egg salad, not too bad.

Dad poured hot water into his coffee cup from the electric jug – we had been moved to a lunch room while the Director got changed – and added milk before stirring. He seemed to take his time about thinking over his answer, but he got there eventually.

"I think that was a test," he decided. "A test for your guardian angel. She gave that soldier the order to douse you with a bucket of water. The prank rebounded on her for the most part, but the soldier tripped and got the bucket on his head for his part in it."

"Yeah, I pretty well got that bit," I agreed, finishing off the sandwich and grabbing another. "But why? She knew that it was all true. She would have seen it with Sophia. In fact, she expected more or less that very thing to happen. She even said as much."

He sipped at the coffee. "I think it was a test for the guardian angel, not to prove that he exists. Emma, Sophia, Madison, they all had lots of malice toward you, so they got punished very thoroughly. Arranging for you to be doused in cold water required some sort of punishment, but there was no malice in it, so she simply got doused instead. Tit for tat."

"Precisely." The door opened and Director Piggot entered. Her suit, identical to the one she had been wearing before, was dry. She showed no other signs of the incident with the bucket. "I had my suspicions, so I set up the situation. Besides, there's something else that you need to know about your guardian angel."

I turned to face her. "What's that?"

She waited until Dad and I were giving her our complete and undivided attention.

"He doesn't exist."

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Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Categories:

F/MF/F

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Taylor/BrianAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Lily | Flechette | FoilEidolon/OC

Characters:

Language:

English

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Published:2024-11-28Completed:2024-11-28Words:151,707Chapters:20/20Comments:70Kudos:361Bookmarks:192Hits:14,065

It Gets Worse

Ack13

Chapter 5: Gathering Troubles

Summary:

Jan 11 2011

Chapter Text

Emily

She sat back in her chair and awaited the reaction from the two people before her. It wasn't long in coming.

"Wait, what? That can't be right." That was the father, Danny. He frowned as the full impact of her words registered on him. "You're saying … it's Taylor?"

Taylor, on the other hand, looked at her father then back at Emily. "What? I don't have a guardian angel? But …"

Then it was Danny's turn again. "Seriously, I think you'd better explain that."

The Director laced her fingers on the desk in front of her. "I've been doing this job a long time. While powers come in more variations than even the old-style comic book writers could imagine, there are some aspects that show up, again and again. The first one is that powers are direct. They don't do things half-assed or sideways. If the power effect is the same three or four times in a row, it's not an accident."

She took a deep breath. "And the other thing is that people are still people, whether they've got powers or not. I've never come across someone using his power to help someone who doesn't even know him, in secret, without trying to communicate in some way. Capes always want something in return. Always. Even if it's just recognition, or a thank-you." And powers just make it worse, she thought sourly. Children with machine-guns.

Taylor was frowning. "But … it's possible, right?"

"Certainly, it's possible, yes," agreed Emily. "Possible, but somewhat improbable." She opened a drawer and pulled out a pad. Pulling her pen from her pocket – it had been checked, and was in full working order – she clicked it and drew a line down the centre of the pad. On one side, she wrote POWER; on the other, she wrote GUARDIAN ANGEL.

"Now, let's list the pros and cons of whether you're powered or not," she said. "You've already stated that you don't know who could be doing this, yes?"

"Well, yeah," Taylor agreed. "I mean, it could be Greg, but if it was, he'd be dropping hints all over school."

"Unless his power doesn't let him tell anyone," Danny interjected. "Isn't it true that powers sometimes do something like that?"

"Well, yes," Emily admitted. "It happens, but it's rare." On the pad she wrote 'Greg – gagged?' on the 'guardian angel' side. On the other side, she drew a line.

"Well, that's easy to check," Danny pointed out. "Taylor can ask him."

Taylor grimaced. "Dad, are you sure you know what you're asking?"

He turned his head to look at her. "Why, what's the matter with Greg?"

She shook her head. "He's got no clue. Not a single one. People could ignore and ostracise him, and he wouldn't notice. If I even hinted that he might be doing this for me, he'd jump on it with both feet and convince himself that he's doing it."

"And if he is?" asked Emily. "What then?"

Both Danny and Taylor turned to stare at her. "I thought you were saying it wasn't him," Danny objected.

"I've also learned that it doesn't pay to rule anything out, no matter how improbable, when it comes to powers," she told him. "It's unlikely, certainly. But that doesn't make it impossible. So, Taylor, what are you going to do if it does turn out that this Greg has these powers and is helping you with them?"

<><>

Taylor

Both the Director and my father were looking at me; I shrank back under their combined stares. "I … I don't know," I confessed. "I mean, I guess he kind of likes me, probably because I don't brush him off like everyone else. But he's a little bit creepy, and while I don't dislike him, I don't actually like him all that much either."

"And why's that?" asked the Director, almost gently.

"Well, for one thing," I said, getting my thoughts together, "sometimes we're placed together for a class project." A shudder rippled through me as I recalled the debacle that had been the last such project. "When that happens, he spends more time trying to talk to the pretty girls in the class than to me. So it's not even really me that he likes, just the fact that I don't tell him to go away."

"Yes, I've known people like that," agreed the Director. "Well, here's the next question. If it turned out that he was indeed your guardian angel, would you rather he protected someone else – and gave them all his attention – or stayed to help you?"

"Oh, god," I muttered. "I'm not sure which would be worse. I mean, unless he can't talk to me about it. But even if that was the case, owing Greg that, and knowing that he's doing it because he likes me, and I don't like him … ugh." I looked beseechingly at Director Piggot. "Is there any way to prove that it's not him without actually asking him?"

She seemed to be almost amused, which wasn't too much of a surprise. "Actually, yes, there is. And there is already a weight of evidence to show that this is you causing it and not your classmate."

"There is?" asked Dad. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Because we needed to explore the other hypothesis first, so you'd be ready to look at this one with an open mind," she explained.

"Oh, my mind is open, trust me," I assured her fervently.

"Very well." She tapped the pen on the pad. "Let's go through the spectrum of powers that a hypothetical guardian angel would need. Telekinesis, some sort of Master power. Stranger capabilities to be right there and not be seen. Some sort of clairvoyance, because from your own account, more than one thing was happening at once, in two different places."

"So what would Taylor need in order for this to be just her?" asked Dad, frowning.

"Some form of precognition, limited to events that would cause her problems, and probability manipulation to change events to suit her," the Director recited promptly.

"But I'm not doing it!" I protested. "I don't see what's going to happen. And I definitely don't deliberately alter events to suit me."

"Not deliberately, no," she agreed. "But it's happening all the same." Carefully, she laid the pen down and then crossed one hand over the other on the desk. "I had a strong inkling of what was going on before you ever walked into the building. I mean you no harm, and your power knows it." A dry smile crossed her face. "Bad things happen to people who try to harm you. I have no intention of joining that number."

"Wow." Dad looked from her to me. "You're really serious."

"Utterly." There was no humour in her tone or on her face now.

"So what other evidence do you have?" I was curious now. "So far it's all been circumstantial." Dad looked at me. I shrugged. "What? I've heard Mr Barnes talk about this sort of thing."

Director Piggot inclined her head. "True. But the clincher is what brought all this on. Have you ever heard of a trigger event?"

I frowned. "Uh, isn't that where parahumans get their powers?"

"Exactly." She replaced the pen in her pocket. "By all accounts, a trigger event is essentially the worst thing that can happen to someone. It's what causes powers to emerge. You've been through a horrific experience, very recently."

"Oh. Yeah." I didn't want to think about it, but there it was. "So … the locker caused me to become … lucky?"

"Very broadly speaking, that's what I think happened, yes." She tapped her forehead with her finger. "Also, triggering causes part of the brain to develop in a very specific way. With your consent, a CT scan could pick this up."

I shook my head. "No … I think I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah." Dad nodded. "Me too." He paused. "So where do we go from here?"

"From here …" Director Piggot rubbed her chin, then obviously came to a decision. "Miss Hebert, I would like to formally invite you to -" She broke into a fit of coughing as a bug flew into her mouth.

"Are you okay?" Dad was halfway to his feet.

She waved him away, pulling out a handkerchief. The spasm over, she looked at me. "On second thought, I would like to retract the offer. It seems to be a bad idea."

"Why?" Dad looked from me to the Director. "I'm assuming you were going to ask her to join the Wards. It seems like a reasonable idea to me. Taylor?"

I shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't have any problems with it. But if you say my power doesn't like it …"

Director Piggot grimaced. "Well, that may have been a random bug, but I'm not going to take any chances. If you wish to join, then we will accept you, but I am specifically not inviting you to join the Wards at this point in time."

"I, uh … can I think about it?"

"Certainly." She spread her hands. "Take all the time you want."

"Okay, thanks." I looked at Dad. "Was there anything else we wanted to do here?"

He considered the question. "No, not really." Turning to the Director, he went on. "We just wanted to let you know about Taylor's guardian angel or, as it turns out, her power. Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

"No," she replied. "Let me know what you decide. I'm not going to push you on this one."

If anything was going to underscore for me how serious my powers were, and that I had powers at all, it was the sight of Director Piggot, obviously used to getting her own way, very carefully deferring to my wishes in the matter.

Dad and I got up and he opened the door for me. "Thanks for seeing us on such short notice," I told the Director. "When I figure out what I'm going to do, you'll be the first to know."

<><>

Emily

"I would appreciate that," she said. She watched the teenage girl and her father exit her office, the door closing behind them. Then she finally let herself relax, the tension of carefully watching her every word slowly draining away.

She had, in her career, faced many capes, quite often in this very office. Some had been arrogant, some reasonable, some downright obsequious. Though precious few of the latter, I have to say. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of capes with such a capricious power, one over which they apparently had little to no control, that she had encountered. She wouldn't admit to being scared, exactly, but there was a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts. "Right," she muttered. "So Shadow Stalker was bullying that girl, huh? Let's see about that."

Belatedly, she realised exactly what the bug had been about. Had Taylor joined the Wards, with Shadow Stalker already a member, the blow-up would have been as inevitable as it was devastating. If her power then decided that the entire PRT and Protectorate were a danger to her … She shuddered at the thought.

Picking up the phone, she dialled a number. "Armsmaster?" she queried. "Good. I need you to meet me here. We have an investigation to begin."

<><>

Danny

I hope she'll be okay.

He was pretty sure he was worrying needlessly, but Taylor's sufferings were still very fresh in his memory. He had to stop himself from getting up and leaving the office, or at least picking up the phone and calling her.

She's fine. She's got the phone, she can call me if she needs anything. He had left her bundled up in her favourite blanket on the sofa, watching TV and eating cookie dough.

"I'm good," she had insisted. "If TV gets boring, I'll read a book. If that gets boring, I'll take a nap. You need to go and prove that they need you at work."

She had a point. He was perennially backlogged with paperwork even on the good days; leaving early, as he had been doing recently, was not doing his in-tray any favours at all. So he stopped glancing at the phone and turned back to the report he was reading.

Picking up the document from the desk, he turned slowly on his chair as he skimmed through it, then settled down to read it more closely. Frowning, he finally managed to engage his mind with what the report was saying, and read it a third time. Then he got up and went to a filing cabinet. From there, he pulled a sheaf of similar reports, through which he skimmed, looking for one piece of data. As he did so, the frown on his face grew deeper and deeper.

After cross-checking some old roster sheets, with the relevant reports in hand – the rest went back into the filing cabinet – he sat back down at his desk and pressed a button on his intercom.

"Yes, Mr Hebert?"

"Louise, could you please have …" He re-checked the name on the report. "Lee Adamson paged, please? I need him to report to this office immediately."

"Lee Adamson, right away."

"Thank you." He disengaged the button and dropped the reports on the desk. While he waited, he checked the date on the latest one. It had been submitted just the previous day; if he had not chosen to come in to finish his working day, it may have languished in the in-tray for at least another day.

<><>

Lee Adamson

Adamson knocked on the doorframe. "You wanted to see me, Mr Hebert?"

He'd never been able to figure out how a weedy guy like Hebert had managed to make it in the Dockworkers Association, a trade that was rough and tough by its very nature. But here he was, the union spokesman and head of hiring, not the face of the Association but one of the people who managed to keep it going.

Danny Hebert looked up from the paper he was reading, the light reflecting momentarily from his glasses. Adamson saw that he looked worn, with a few more lines on his face. Maybe he was losing sleep over something. The rumour that was making the rounds was that something had happened to his daughter. Everyone knew that he'd left work in a hell of a hurry a few days back and he'd been knocking off early ever since.

Oh well, like I give a shit. It wasn't Adamson's problem. His job was to do the work the Association gave him and, when required, to perform the other duties set him by his real employer.

"Yes, come in. Close the door and sit down, please."

Lee did as he was told, taking a seat in the aged chair before the desk. "What's this about?"

Hebert took his time answering, picking up several sheets of paper and carefully stacking them together. Finally, he placed them in front of Lee. "Do you know what these are?"

Oh shit. The tone of voice, the whole attitude, clued Lee in on the fact that he was in trouble of some sort. He desperately wanted to read the papers, but settled for scanning the top lines. "Uh, incident reports, Mr Hebert?"

"That's correct, Lee," Hebert said. "Incident reports about items missing from shipping manifests in a regular pattern. Specifically, in a pattern where you're the common denominator in all the work crews that unloaded the items in question."

"Now wait just a minute -" Lee began, but Hebert overrode him.

"No, Mr Adamson, you wait just a minute. I haven't finished talking." He paused for a moment, to be sure that Lee wasn't going to interrupt, then went on. "I don't know that it's you that's been taking these items, and I don't know why they've been getting taken. Right now, I don't even know what's been taken. But I'm going to investigate all of these things, and I'm going to come to the truth of the matter. Is that understood?"

Shit shit shit. Lee understood, all right. He'd taken items from cargo being unloaded before; of course he had. He'd been getting paid extra to do just that. But he didn't expect the shift bosses to be as vigilant as they were; after all, he'd been getting away with it so far.

He became aware that Hebert was looking at him expectantly. "Uh, yes, I understand."

"Good." Hebert looked him up and down. "Now, these are quite serious allegations, so you're being suspended with pay until it's all sorted out -"

"Wait, what?" Hebert couldn't do that. There was another shipment due tomorrow evening, one that he had to be on the work crew for. "You can't -"

Hebert slapped the desk with his palm, making Lee jump. "I can and I will. Right now, you're only suspended with pay. If you're found guilty of any criminal activity, the penalties will get a lot worse. Is there anything you want to say to me that might clear this up?"

Several possible explanations scrolled through Lee's head; unfortunately, each seemed more problematic than the last.

I'm being set up.

It's all a conspiracy to get me fired.

Okay, I took the stuff, but I'll never do it again.

I'm really working for -

He cut that last thought off. No way he was going to let anyone know who was paying him under the table. Hebert was well known for not hiring anyone with gang affiliations.

"Uh, no," he mumbled. "Nothing."

"Very well, Mr Adamson," Hebert told him. "I'm going to require that you leave the site immediately. We'll contact you with the result of the investigation." He paused, his expression softening slightly. "Don't worry; I won't tell anyone why you were suspended."

Small mercies, indeed. "But I need the work. I -"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," Hebert reminded him. "Suspension with pay. You're getting a vacation. If you're blameless, then you have nothing to worry about." If we find out that you've been taking stuff, he didn't have to say, then you do have something to worry about.

Lee didn't want to push the issue. Keep my head down, don't make him wonder what's so special about that shipment. "Uh, okay." Some part of him wanted to thank Hebert, but what was there to thank him for, really?

"That'll be all. Hand in your helmet, your vest and your ID before you leave." Hebert's attention was already on the next piece of paperwork.

For just a moment, Lee wanted to grab the scrawny pencil-pusher by the neck and throttle him, if only to make him realise what he was up against. It's people like him that screw things up for people like me. But he didn't. His orders were to not make waves, to pretend to be a good little employee. So he pushed open the door and left.

<><>

"Hello?"

"It's Adamson."

"Why are you calling?"

"There's a problem."

"Those are not words I want to hear. What I want to hear is 'there was a problem but I sorted it out'."

"No, I can't. Hebert just suspended me. Took me off work."

"Why?"

There was a long pause.

"Adamson, why did he suspend you?"

"He might have figured that I was taking stuff."

"Damn it, you were supposed to be being discreet!"

"I was being discreet. Nobody saw me. But they were keeping a count of items being offloaded and he must have put it together."

"Christ. Does he know?"

"Hell no. What do you take me for? Right now he thinks I might be a thief, but that's it."

"Do we have anyone else who can cover for the shift tomorrow?"

"No."

"All right, leave it with me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I have to do."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I didn't ask your opinion."

And then there was just the dial tone.

<><>

Triumph

Rory looked up as the buzzer sounded. "Masks!" he called out. Dropping his cards, he fitted his lion's-head helmet over his head. Aegis, sitting opposite him, was already masked up; Kid Win, at the monitor console, hadn't taken his visor off.

They all came to their feet as the doors opened. Director Piggot led the way into the room, with Armsmaster following behind.

"Uh … Director Piggot?" Rory queried. "What's the matter?" Did we do something wrong?

"Nothing's the matter," Armsmaster assured him. "You're not in trouble. Though we do need you for something." He nodded to Kid Win and Aegis. "Could you please leave the room?"

With quick glances at their team leader, the two Wards headed for the door. Triumph watched them go, then turned back toward Armsmaster and the Director. "Uh, what exactly is going on?"

"What's going on," Piggot answered him curtly, "is that Shadow Stalker has been making fools of us all and we're going to get to the bottom of this right now."

"Shadow Stalker?" Rory repeated blankly. "Okay, sure, she's a bit abrasive and not really a team player, but …"

"We've received serious allegations that she's engaging in ongoing bullying activities in her civilian identity," Armsmaster said grimly. "If she's doing that, then she may be doing other things in her cape identity. We need to open her locker and look for any indication that this may be the case. Director Piggot wants you and me to be her witnesses in this situation."

"Wait, but she's in the hospital," Triumph objected. "You're not even giving her a chance to defend herself."

"If we find something suspicious, then she will have the chance to defend herself," Piggot stated flatly. "If we don't, then she won't need to. As it is, I have recently had one of the most unsettling conversations of my career entirely due to her, and I don't wish to be blindsided like that again. Ever."

Rory blinked. Clockblocker liked to make jokes about 'Miss Piggy' – hell, they all did – but he'd grown up around politics. He'd seen the steel in her spine more times than he could count. To hear her admit to being unsettled was a new experience. She's serious about this.

"Uh, yes, ma'am," he replied. "Her locker's right this way."

<><>

Danny

His eyes ached from reading through forms and his hand was in little better condition from scrawling his signature at the bottom of those same forms. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, then replaced them to look at the clock on the wall.

"Christ," he muttered. "It's after seven. Taylor will be worried sick."

Getting out of his chair, he glanced into the outer office, preparing to tell Louise to go home already. To his surprise, he saw that the desk there was empty, that his office light was the only one still on. Rubbing his forehead, he conjured up a vague memory of his secretary telling him that she was going home; he'd mumbled some sort of reply then gotten back to the attack on his overdue paperwork. If there was another Lee Adamson lurking in the in-tray that he missed because he'd been going home early …

Turning back to his desk, he saw that the pile in the in-tray had indeed been greatly reduced. There was still a deal of work to do, but not so much that he couldn't get it done tomorrow. And he had to get home to Taylor. Somewhat recovered she might be, but she was still fragile.

Shrugging into his jacket, he turned off the desk light and then the office light. He was just locking his office door when he heard the scrape of a shoe on worn linoleum. Turning, he watched as someone stepped into the doorway of the outer office.

"Who's that?" he asked. "Kurt?"

"No, not Kurt." The voice belonged to a man, but it wasn't one that Danny knew.

"Who is it?" Danny frowned. "How did you get in here?"

"The door was open." The man's voice was light, almost amused. "Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is what I'd like you to do."

"And what's that?" Danny squinted to try to make out the man's face, but the corridor light was behind him.

"Take Lee Adamson off of suspension." The voice was flat. "Put him back on the roster."

"What? No." Danny shook his head. "The man's under suspicion of theft."

There was a sigh, then the man reached into his jacket. Danny tensed, but the only sound he heard was the rustle of paper against cloth. An envelope, quite visible in the dimness, came into view; the man held it out to him. "Here's an incentive. You never took Adamson off the roster. I was never here."

"How much?" The question came out before he thought about it.

"Five large." He could hear the smugness in the voice. "I hear your little girl has some medical bills to pay off. This'll cover that with room to spare."

Involuntarily, he took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists. "Don't you bring Taylor into this," he grated. "And don't you ever come in here trying to bribe me for anything. Adamson's on suspension and that's where he'll stay till I find out what he's guilty of. Now get the fuck out of here before I throw you out. And take your dirty money with you."

"Now, now." The voice was still urbane, still calm and collected. "No need for any rough stuff. This doesn't need to be anything more than a civilised arrangement between gentlemen. I'll give you twelve hours to think about it."

Danny breathed heavily. "Twelve hours, twenty-four, forty-eight, I don't give a flying fuck. The Dockworkers don't do business with organised crime. That's the way it's always been and that's the way it'll always be. Now fuck off. And the moment I find one shred of evidence that Adamson's connected, he goes too. For good."

"Twelve hours. You'll be hearing from us." The man stepped back then sideways, disappearing from his sight. Danny came forward, snatching up a dimly-seen chair, brandishing it as he moved into the corridor. He saw nothing; all he heard were diminishing footsteps.

"Damn it," he muttered, stepping back into the office. As he put the chair down, he became aware of his racing heartbeat, the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

<><>

Armsmaster

"Damn it," muttered the Director. She looked over the contents of Shadow Stalker's locker, arrayed on the table. A spare costume, knee and elbow pads, two masks, each bearing the scowling-woman visage, her Tinkertech crossbows and several cases of arrows. Colin had been over the arrows carefully; they were the blunted type or the tranquilliser type exclusively. "I was sure we'd find something."

"I'm sorry, Director," Triumph said carefully. "Maybe she just isn't … what you think she is."

"I was given evidence that she is, or rather was, bullying one of her classmates to an extraordinary degree," gritted Piggot. "Now, do you think she'd do that in her civilian identity and not break the rules in any way as a cape?"

"I still think it's unfair on her to be targeted like this while she's still in the hospital," argued Triumph. "She can't even present her own side of the story. She doesn't even know this is happening." He gestured at the paraphernalia spread on the table. "And it looks like there was nothing to find anyway."

Armsmaster was rubbing his chin and frowning. Something was off, here. Something was missing.

"There's something." The Director's voice was iron-hard with certainty. "I just -"

"Director." He nearly had it.

"What?" snapped Piggot.

Colin snapped his fingers; a hard trick in armoured gauntlets, but one that he had worked to master. "Her Wards phone. It's not here."

She scanned the table. "You're right. It's not."

"Uh, that's because I've got it," Triumph admitted.

"You? Why do you have it?" Colin got the question in just before the Director, but only just.

"Aegis took it off of her after the accident and he handed it over to me." Triumph shrugged. "I was gonna hang on to it, give it back once she was conscious and lucid."

"Sensible," Armsmaster conceded. "Though you really should have handed it in to one of us."

"In fact, you'll hand it over right now," Piggot ordered him, holding out her hand.

Slowly, Triumph withdrew the phone from a belt pouch and gave it to her. "What do you think you'll find on it, ma'am? She'll have known you have access to anything that's on it. Even if she's been breaking the rules, she won't be doing it using that phone."

"Doesn't she carry a second phone, a civilian one?" Colin asked.

"She did," Triumph agreed. "But I heard it got stolen. She was really upset about that."

Piggot snorted. "'Upset' wasn't the word. But I'm not interested in her message traffic. I'm interested in another type of data." Turning, she placed the phone in Armsmaster's hand. "I want you to do something for me."

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