Ablation

Taylor

I stare in horror at my phone screen. Then towards where Chillax left and take off running. I see her on her phone in a line to some coffee shop, grinning and typing something. I tackle her and we both drop to the ground.

"Oh, hey!" She smiles up at me. "What's up?"

"You're FenceFourth?!" I yell, causing her to still. "Are you kidding me?! 'Oh sorry guys can't make it to the game night'” I say mockingly, “GIRL! You could have not made it in life!"

"Huh." is her only answer to that. "Okay. Uhh. Winged One?"

"No!" I shake her shoulders, not paying any mind to the people around us. I lift her up and drag her away from the crowd.

"Well you're 100% not Sly, so Owlie?" She guesses right on a third try, I nod at that. "Where we going?"

"You're not staying in a hotel. We're going to my house and you're explaining everything."

"I can do that. But I expect the same from you."

I don't want to talk about that day but it would be fair to reciprocate. "Yeah, I'll tell you.” We're almost at the bus stop when I turn to her again. “Seriously?! You just... just came out of a cape fight and instead of getting some rest or, I don't know, first aid, you're getting yourself coffee?" I whisper-shout the cape fight part when we're the only ones on this side of the street.

"Well sorry, I just spent the last forty hours on a run from the craziest bitch... oh well, second craziest bitch in Boston! I need some caffeine in me for peace of mind and a sense of normalcy!” she whisper-shouts back at me. “Seriously, let's drop the subject. I had no obligation to tell you I JUST triggered and you had no right to know. And that is a both way door. I didn't ask you ‘hey Owlie, what was the worst day of your life?’ did I now?”

Okay ouch. That's true. “Sorry, my bad. I just… I went to Boston expecting to recruit some no name cape and was ready to cripple her forever if she betrays me and all that stuff. And then it turns out that no name cape actually is a yes name cape and I'm sorry for thinking of making your eyelids weigh a ton.”

“Oh. Okay. Apology accepted. Yeah, sorry for thinking of making your asshole zero friction.” Oh. Damn. Touche. We both break out giggling at that. Thank god it's the middle of friday and there's so few people around.

We board the bus, we pay the fare for the both of us and we spend the ride in silence. FenceFourth fidgets with an ice cube, I occupy myself with trying not to dust the bus. Can't do that, and jeopardize the longstanding local culture. No cape fights in buses, that's a big unwritten rule in the Bay. Remnants of Marquis's former glory. That's what I want to replicate. Be scary, respected and successful enough that my legacy stays even after I pass. A safe Brockton Bay where civilians feel as safe on the streets as they feel on the bus rides. Feels like I already made one member of New Wave my nemesis. So that's one more step towards my goal. Be Marquis but literally better in every way. Yep. Easy.

We stop just a couple streets away from my home and finish the rest of the distance on foot. Mi casa, standing proud and two stories tall.

I motion to skip the rotten step then pause. Why the hell do I do that? I bend down and make the step sturdier. Yeah, fuck that. I'm reinforcing my entire house!

“Welcome to Hebert residence,” I say, opening the front door for FF.

“Oh? I didn't know we were having guests?” I hear from the living room. Ohhh no. I thought I have some time. “Is that who you left to pick up at five in the morning?” Asks dad, eyeing FF suspiciously.

“Hi Mr Hebert! I'm Chelsea, Chelsea Chatham. Very nice to meet you,” says… Chelsea, apparently, moving to shake dad’s hand. Huh. I forgot to tell her my name.

“Please, just Danny. Mr Hebert was my father.”

“Mr Danny, then.” She grins.

“Are you the lady who bought my daughter gang jackets?” dad asks. Right. Fuck.

“I told you I bleached those, dad! And no, that was Lisa, this is Chelsea.” I interject before Chelsea could respond. “Okay. We need to go upstairs. Don't wait for us!” I say as I push Chelsea towards my room.

“Whoa there, hold your horses. At least buy me dinner first!” quips Chelsea. Yep. Ten pound eyelids activate! “Hey! I resent that!”

“Just go!” I shut the door behind me and unheavy her eyelids. “Okay, before dad interrupts us. Talk.”

Chelsea plops down on my bed and takes a deep breath. She holds it for a bit and loudly exhales. “So I got my GED. Yay. I no longer need school. I had some money saved up from day trading that I decided to use for a little road trip. Wanted to visit the gang, as in, the chat peeps, not the cape gang. BB was my first goal, ya know? Then I'd go down to Chicago and figure stuff out from there. Maybe continue my road trip right to the west coast, maybe hunker down somewhere with good internet. But that plan kinda got shot. Got into a car accident on my way to Boston. Then I almost got run over by a truck as I was being slowly cooked alive in the remains of my poor baby girl. I got powers, used them. Made the truck flip over and spill like a literal metric ton of cocaine. Whaddaya know, shit happens. The cops loved it. Accord didn't love it. And that's when you come to my rescue cause I doubt I could hotwire a car like that. All the buses were monitored, no taxi would take a rugged beauty like me for a ride when I smelled like gasoline. Couldn't wash That off without getting caught. I was kinda toast. If you didn't get me out of there. Thanks for that bee tee dubs.” She finishes, covering her eyes with her fingers. “You mind if I use your shower? I wasn't kidding about the gasoline smell.”

“Ugh, yeah.” I say, making a note to change my bed covers as well. “Just take the topmost towel, then chuck it in the laundry bin after using it. My hair stuff is on the top shelf. Don't use dad’s 16 in 1 head & shoulders. It does atrocious things to your hair.” Makes it fall off, most likely.

While she does that I go downstairs. Dad is sitting at the kitchen island, a newspaper in hand.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey kiddo. So, wanna tell me more about your friend?” he asks, putting away the paper.

“Yeah. Uhh. That's the friend I made when… you know. Right before Emma betrayed me.” He winces at that. “Yeah. We've been friends for nearly two years and she's one of the people who've kept me sane through high school.”

“Oh, Taylor.” Dad stands up and wraps me in a hug. I don't think this is a hugworthy moment, but the dam has cracked already. Might as well lean into it.

“Like, I spend the entire school day treated like I shouldn't exist and I come back home and I can vent to them, and they offer words of support. It was the best feeling in the world at the time. Sometimes… sometimes I suspected that they're Emma’s friends, you know? Like, sent by her to pretend to be my friends for a long game and just waiting on her signal to betray me too. And that they'd release the screenshots of me sharing my deepest secrets.” The dam is truly and utterly broken at that point and I cry into dad’s shoulder as he gently rubs my back and lends his patient ear. “But it hasn't happened even after the whole two hospitalizations. You’d think Emma would want to do something by then... Chelsea got into a car accident.” I finally say and dad’s hand tightens around me. “She's got nowhere to stay and can't go back home.” I don't know the whole story, but I know she is disowned and was in foster care for a couple months. Her mother hated her and we don't ever mention her father.

“She can stay here,” dad says. “I could clean up the basement or the attic. Meanwhile she can sleep on the couch.” Bless his bleeding heart.

“Thanks, dad. I'm sure she'll figure something out before we get to a point where she needs to stay here long-term.” It does sound callous if you didn't know that we could totally afford straight up buying an apartment, let alone rent one out. Not on our current funds, but a single jewelry story netted me forty grand. I need to think more audaciously now. We hit big, we hit loud. If we bag our third member, we'll be swimming in cash. And then we can start looking for grunts.

“If you're sure, kiddo.” Dad responds, reluctantly. He'd hate to see a kid his daughter's age left on the streets, but it'll never come to that point. I'll see to it myself.

Amy

Who was that? What's her relationship with Taylor? Is Taylor two timing her before they even went on their first date? You don't tackle complete strangers to the ground and then berate them for their dangerous lifestyle. Especially if the stranger is a bleeding girl in tattered clothes.

Amy was about to approach her, to check if she needed healing. The girl was exhibiting all the signs of shock. Ignoring her wounds, doing something mundane like standing in line for coffee, instead of doing the sensible thing, like going to the hospital.

Amy lost her opportunity to approach her as Taylor led the girl away, animatedly whispering something in her ear. Amy Dallon will remember that. As she is a vindictive and vengeful evil villain who keeps petty evil tabs on people she cares about. And it's not like she even cares about Taylor. She's Amy’s test subject, that's all. The dating thing is just an excuse for her to keep Taylor away from Vicky. No, she's not jealous of the redhead. Or of Taylor. Why does she get to tackle hot girls to the ground? Why doesn't Taylor tackle Amy to the ground? She's very tackleable! You can whisper stuff in my ear too! I literally made you! How dare you use that body to seduce other girls! Whoa wait that sounded wrong. Fuck off Freud, you're not welcome in my head! There is nothing maternal in molding another girl’s flesh to my liking. And nothing sisterly. That is exactly why I chose her, actually. And not just cause she was the closest target that day. It also helps that she isn't blonde. Amy shelves her complicated feelings deep into the dark corner, right next to her feelings for Vicky and custom Tyranid 3D model ideas that she totally doesn't make irl out of bugs and plants. It's not her fault Carol is so stingy with her allowance.

“Was that Taylor?” Vicky asks from beside her.

Amy huffs, grabbing her cup of sixtuple espresso shot. Her true friend. Coffee. Caffeine would never betray her. “Yep. And some redhead she just dragged away.”

“Should we go say hi?” Vicky presses on.

“Nah. Looked like some old friends' argument to me.”

“Aw, I wanted to say hi to Taylor.” Amy squints at that. Is she failing at keeping Taylor away from her Vicky? She needs to try harder. Yep. That's the only reason. She eyes the, shudder, non-baggy clothes boutique.

“Hey, Vicky. Could you help me pick out some.. uh… blouses and pants? For my date tomorrow?” She asks carefully, and slowly turns towards her sister, who is looking at her with her fists covering her mouth. Oh no. Why did I tell her about the date?

“Squeeeee” she says the word, rather than actually squeeing.

I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said anything at all. Curse my mouth and curse you Taylor for asking me out even though that's exactly what I wanted. Thinks Amy evilly, trying hard not to smile too wide as she's dragged away towards the dreaded clothes stores at unsafe speeds.

Taylor

I left home early to get some shopping done. I knew a total of negative infinity about fashion, so I got the one person I know who does, to meet up with me. Lisa was waiting for me by the intersection one street down the bus stop.

She greets me with a “What kind of heathen wakes up at 7 in the morning on a weekend?” 

“Hello to you too, sweetie,” now why would I say that? Down, girl! Down! Sheesh. My words seem to surprise Lisa too as she takes a second or two to process that and, by the look on her face, decides to forget that I said it. Or her brain is still booting up from her early weekend rise.

I hand her a cup of coffee I bought on my way here, the true heathen, as I sip on my oolong tea. With a dash of milk in it. “Ooh, my bribe!” She says, cradling the coffee with both hands, taking small sips from it and blowing on its hot surface and generally acting all cute. Down, girl! “So what do you have in mind?” She asks me as we wait for the green light to cross the road.

“Uhh, I dunno. I was hoping for something classy like… uhh… I don't know. I don't wanna look too boyish but also I don't think a dress would look good on me.” I trail off in the end, as we start walking.

“Okay, fire. We get you several options, we look around for what fits and you choose what to keep and what to send home.” I look at her incredulously. “What? Couriers exist.” Oh right. “So who's your date? Someone I knooow?” She asks.

“Uh, yeah. It's Amy.”

That gets a whistle from her. “Damn, girl. You work fast. Didn't you meet her a week ago?”

“I did. Stuff just kinda happened? I don't know. She was making moves on me and I… I don't know. Decided to shoot my shot?” I didn't think anybody else would take interest in me. And Amy did save my life. Am I dating her out of guilt? Surely not. Am I attracted to her? I don't know.

“Uh huh.” Lisa hums, leading me into a store, “So what's your thoughts on GEDs? Decided against it?”

“Oh, no. I'm taking it. It's just, I'm not even 16 yet. So might as well finish this school year, right?”

“Right, right. Try this one on,” she hands me a pair of slacks and a button up short sleeve shirt with frills in the front. “They'd look nice with your jacket on top. You dyed it black and white, right?”

Oh wow, first guess. “Yeah, I added some patterns to it too, cause I couldn't sleep one night and had nothing to do.”

“Couldn't sleep, huh?” She smirks. Oh you, get your mind out of the gutter! It was fight jitters! I don't dignify that question with a response. Instead, I focus on fitting into the slacks. Which goes very successfully. I didn't even have to toughen them up in case they're too tight. Lisa picked a perfect fit.

“Okay, how do I look?” I say, opening the curtains.

“You look fantastic,” wow, praise me more. She grins, I smile, “Now let's go get you a dress.” And my smile falls. Oh man.

This time, I pay for my own clothes. I'll be damned if I make someone pay for me when I can literally rob the store to get the money back. Lisa starts giggling for some reason.

Lisa

Is contemplating her complex feelings towards Amy Dallon. Considers self indebted to Amy Dallon. Doubts authenticity of feelings of attraction.

Nope. Not stepping on that minefield. Distract. Distract! Lisa loosens her hold on the Power’s walls a bit and lets minor info rush into her head once more. She knew there was something good in this store. She confirms her Thoughts when Taylor opens the curtain. Yep. She's almost reluctant to dress her so well for that date. But she already has a perfect target in mind for Taylor at another store.

Is thinking of robbing the store to get the money back. Won't let Lisa Wilbourn pay as then she'd be indirectly stealing from her friend.

That is hilarious, Power. Thinks Lisa, chuckling quietly. Their trip to the next store is interrupted when Taylor stops in her tracks.

Fight or Flight response triggered. Taylor Hebert’s first choice is Freeze. Cause related to trigger event. Cause is long-term source of trauma. Cause is across the street walking towards Taylor Hebert.

Oh hell no. She looks over to the four girls walking towards them and lets her walls fall as Power floods her mind with information. Before she can do anything with that information, Taylor starts walking to meet them halfway. The redhead is about to say something but one of the girls goes to intercept Taylor, sensing that something is not right.

Emma not Taylor Hebert’s target. Taylor Hebert’s target close to direct cause of trigger event.

She could have guessed that without Power as Taylor wraps her left hand with a handkerchief and swings at the girl who went to intercept her, Sophia, Power informed her. Sophia tries to dodge and Taylor shifts her target from the girl’s face to her stomach, and Sophia doubles over. Damn. That's a mean punch for a mean girl.

“I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to get Empire kids involved in your dumb ass pranks, you bitch!” Taylor bites out, giving Sophia a kick in the stomach, then turns to Emma, who just stood there with her jaw hanging. “Don't talk to me, you dumb cow.” Woah! Right in the weak spot! Though Lisa would have went for the trauma reminder, but how could Taylor know about That? She’s working with the hand she’s been dealt. Her words still left little Miss Model sputtering as Taylor moved away from the still retching Sophia and returned to Lisa’s side. “Sorry about that. Some bitches from my former place of education that made my life a living hell, is all. I'm kind of long past them.”

Lisa is also left gaping as Taylor leads her down the street towards the clothes stores they haven't been to. It's unfair to be this emotionally adjusted towards your literal trigger. Something is not right. Thinks Lisa, once again letting her Power run wild. She winces at the overuse, cause what else could she call her irresponsible waste of a Power on those four bitches.

Is using her parahuman abilities to stiffen muscles. Is using a stim to calm self down. Stim related to parahuman abilities. Is empowering and disintegrating coins in pocket. Is not aware of said stim. Stim not nearly enough to calm Taylor Hebert. Will escalate exponentially if faced with aggression soon. Has not been responding with escalation before. Temper at a limit of tolerance.

Lisa sees Taylor get her hands out the pockets and shrug off some dust. Oh man. Whoever the poor fuck is that gets in a fight with her next, I hope they have a good healer at hand. I gotta cancel our jewelry store raids for tomorrow, she might not recognize me or consider the rest of the team fair game. She grabs Taylor’s hand and starts pulling her towards the store she had in mind. “Come on, I saved the best idea for last.”

Amy

Amy grabs the rat and does last minute adjustments. Patting Mark on the shoulder this morning to remind him to take his meds let her model Mini Mark the II’s depression properly.

“Hey Vicky, flare up your aura” she tells her sister, who is applying makeup at her vanity.

“Huh? Okay. What's the occasion?” Her sister asks. And suddenly she's so radiant and wonderful and oh good, the rat is thoroughly depressed.

She then takes out a small, tiny pill and feeds it to the rat and watches the chemical reactions it's having. Speeding up its digestion and sending the pill contents right into its tiny circulatory system, she watches its brain slowly melting. Nope. Another failure. Back to ground zero, Mini Mark the IIIrd, she thinks at the newly formed rat brain. Then she finally registers what her sister is doing.

“Vicky, no!” says Amy, a sense of foreboding filling her being.

“Vicky, yes!” says Vicky, also dressed for an outing.

“Vicky, please! I told them it's just us two, not Plus Vicky and Dean Stansfield! You'll ruin it!”

“Aw cmon, Amy! You never like going on double dates with me! Or the boys Dean picks!” Vicky pouts. That is a pout that ended many a resistance in its times. Not this time. It's her happy fun time holding hands with Taylor and doing crimes against nature inside her body.

“That's cause half of Dean’s friends are nazis, Vicky! Fuck that! He's either blind or a sympathizer himself! Just think about it. Who is this town’s certified empath?”

“... Dean..?” Vicky says reluctantly, almost like a question, despite mentioning his damn certified empath license every time she has an opportunity to.

“And who are half his friends?” Amy presses on.

“Uhhh.. not nazis?” Sly, Vicky, but you're not slick, or villainous or evil.

“So the other half aren't ‘not nazis’.”

“Wait, no!”

“No, that's exactly it. And who is he dating? That's right, a member of the one cape group the Empire tried associating with, the Aryan ideal of a cape celebrity.”

“What? No! It was mom who played matchmaker between us! He had no way to know! We even started dating before I triggered!”

And she's got an absolutist view on morality, where villains are irredeemable and you can't change who you are born as and will always follow in the footsteps of your biological parents. Nature over nurture. Only the sith deal in the absolutes! Our mom is a fucking fascist and I almlost bought into her agenda! Shit, fuck. Gotta shelve this identity crisis for later, I got a date right now! Deflect. Deflect!

“Exactly. He was playing the long game!”

“You're wrong! I'll prove you wrong and you'll apologize to Dean for even THINKING that he might be.. what? Evil?”

Yes! Evil! Only a villain could steal my sister from me and parade his relationship in front of me under the guise of double dates! And of course Carol would push for a comphet lifestyle and upbringing that makes the nuclear family the only sensible option for Vicky and that's why she hates me! I'm stinking up her psyop! Thinks Amy, her perfect plan to get Vicky and Dean into another argument ready for a spark to set it off while she struggles and fails to not think about her self-inflicted dive into Carol’s character analysis. And she has the perfect kindling for it. Her smile grows sadistic as she says. “Did you know why Connor was late to that double date?” 

“No…”

“He was busy lynching Taylor.” strike one.

“No!”

“Yup. He set her on fire with active explosives nearby so he could join the Empire.” strike two!

“No way!”

“Uh huh. Think about it while I go on my date with Taylor.” and the curveball to end it all earns the final strike of the game! Vicky, out! And not a single ounce of her efforts were for Taylor’s sake. Nuh uh. All her, that's right. She didn't do it to get some weird form of revenge for the girl she barely knows. No matter how painful it is to watch her sister’s devastated expression.

Amy leaves the house, trying not to think of the conversation she just had. She was so mean to Vicky! She was unusually mean to Vicky. Sure she plays up her grumpiness but she kinda went full attack dog there. She still thinks Dean deserves some shit for, firstly being Dead in general, then for dating her sister, and finally for what she just said to Vicky. Is it a rational hatred? Hell no. I hate him beyond reason and morality. Thought Amy to herself. Evilly. Gotta tag that in, do not forget.

Amy boarded the bus and spent a relatively short amount of time reaching the Boardwalk. It is awfully close to home.

She still left early because she expected to talk Vicky down from trying to tag along to figure out who Amy’s date is. Now she knows. Her curiosity - sated and a moral quandary - given to solve at her leisure, leaving Amy free for the next several hours to hang out with Taylor. And in case her bus is late or gets attacked midway to her destination. It never happened before but there is no guarantee it won't happen ever.

Amy orders herself coffee as she waits around for Taylor on one of the outdoor seats.

She didn't have to wait for long. She sees Taylor after downing her second coffee cup. This time, only double espresso shots. She's wearing a navy blue bomber over an emerald green turtleneck, a light blue midi skirt and knee high suede boots. Silver hoops are dangling from her ears, and a beige scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She makes it look casual yet intentional. And also makes Amy feel underdressed. That's why Vicky asked what her date would be wearing, so she could match their style. And Amy, being the petulant unapologetic child she is, refused to tell Vicky. When in fact she just never considered asking Taylor what she'd be wearing.

“Hey Amy,” Taylor says, having approached her table. “Have you had your breakfast yet?”

Amy didn't. She was too nervous to eat anything at home due to anticipation of the date and the general unease she felt in the house when Vicky was asleep and Carol wasn't. That combination made it hard to eat without throwing up. And now that she was outdoors she only had money for one meal and a couple coffees. Even getting that much took an hour long interrogation session from Carol. Fortunately, Amy is experienced in handling those.

“Yeah. Bacon and eggs,” Carol’s fucking favorite stereotype breakfast. Ugh! Taylor leans closer to Amy, face inches away from hers.

“Yeah, we're going to get some proper breakfast first.” Oi! Who woke up and put you in charge? “Then we visit a fun bookshop,” on the other hand, carry on, “It's almost bordering Lord's Market so might as well have a stroll there while we're at it, and from there it's a 15 minute walk to the Captain’s hill.”

Amy isn't sure if she's appalled or impressed as she's dragged away towards a small restaurant. Yes, tall muscular girl, take charge! Taylor beckons for a waiter and they tell him their orders. Taylor pauses at Amy’s two pancakes and a yogurt and orders Amy double. Hey!

“We'll stop at a fancy restaurant on our way to Captain’s Hill then.” She concludes when Amy refuses to add more to her order.

“Uh. What's up?” Is all Amy could ask. Because the current Taylor is a far cry from Taylor literally two days ago. She was expecting to drag the girl around window shopping or something, cause that's what girls like, right? Well that's what Vicky likes at least, and if you don't, then you have poor taste… just like me. Damn. Into the dark corner that goes. We do not tolerate circular contradictions in casa Cranium du Amy.

“Oh, nothing much. Just met someone who made my life living hell cause I couldn't gather enough courage to speak up for myself. That led to me getting melting battery acid in my bones, you know. The usual saturday things.” Oh. Shit. “Yep. Shit indeed.” Huh? “So what's got you all contemplative and zone-out-ey?”

“Ah. Uh, nothing much.” She parroted, “Just coming to grips with the grim possibility that my adoptive mother is a sith lord is all.” That gets a choked half laugh half gasp out of Taylor, “Yep. That would explain the whole ‘I only have one daughter’ thing. Fucking… rule of two and all that crap. I'm the Dooku to her Palpatine.” 

“Oh shit! And her whole hate boner against Marquis cause her worldview doesn't allow for honorable villains!” Taylor gets it!

“Yeah that's exactly what I thought like an hour ago. Not the Marquis part but the absolute good and evil thing.” That part is also insightful though. Is that why she got so bitchy about my self-imposed rules? Cause Marquis does it? Uh… did it. And I thought I'd be getting some brownie points when I told her about my idea.  Well, once burned, twice warned.

Once finished with their breakfast, Taylor paid the bill and didn't let Amy split. Amy noted the look of smug satisfaction she had when they left. That is when she heard the sirens.