by wildbow
“Traitor,” Charlotte muttered, after Jessie was gone. Kathy followed the girl, taking Jessie’s hand after catching up.
There was a pause.
“If she needs you, you should help her,” Charlotte said.
“I’m just not sure what helping her entails,” Danny replied.
Charlotte rose to pour the coffee. Her phone glowed with a fresh text. She stared down at it.
“Shit,” she said.
“What?” Danny asked.
“Company,” she answered.
“Enemies? Danger?”
“Worse. Allies,” Sierra said, from the doorway.
Charlotte turned to see her friend, Sierra. The girl still had her red hair bound in dreads, but the rest of her was all professional attire. Nice shoes, slacks, a blue dress shirt, and just a little makeup.
Sierra approached, arms reaching out to hug Charlotte. Charlotte welcomed the hug, murmuring the words, “I missed you.”
But her eyes were still on the doorway. Tattletale stepped into the front hallway, followed by Grue and the pairings of Imp and Regent, Parian and Flechette.
A superhero, here?
After a brief pause, Bitch entered as well, glowering, looking fit to murder something or someone. Her appearance was at stark odds with the puppies that followed her, each at the end of a differently colored leash.
Danny stood, eyes widening as he recognized the people entering the room.
“Long time no see, Danny,” Tattletale said.
“Lisa,” he answered. There was no warmth in his tone.
“Tattletale while I”m in costume, please,” she said. She flashed a grin, and he didn’t return it.
Grue extended a hand to Danny. It took the man a second to accept it. He watched the group warily.
“What’s going on?” Charlotte asked.
“Need to watch your phone,” Tattletale said. “I sent you a string of texts.”
“I was busy. Looking after the kids, and talking with Danny.”
“Right,” Tattletale said. She made her way to one couch, then lay down. “Damn. Hell of a day. Not enough sleep, already feeling like shit, and then this gets dropped on us.”
“What’s going on?” Charlotte asked, again.
“You mean what’s going on here or what’s going on in general? Generally, our commander-in-chief just defected to the white hats.”
“Here,” Charlotte said. “Why are you here? We’re just getting the kids off to bed.”
“Loose ends,” Tattletale said. “A few here, a few there. Skitter’s gone, and she’s liable to spend time in prison before she joins the Wards, and she won’t be able to visit for a while, even after that. I want to get this as done as we can, so I can sleep for a few days straight and wake up feeling better.”
Charlotte frowned. Tattletale had taken up one couch, Grue was sitting in another, and she didn’t want to sit next to him. She was forced to stand, but standing and being a part of the conversation meant standing in a place where her back was to Bitch, to Parian and Flechette, who were sitting on stools by the kitchen counter, and to Regent and Imp, who were rifling through cabinets and drawers, in search of snacks.
“I have to ask. Why the puppies?” Charlotte asked, glancing at Bitch.
“Tattletale said to.”
“That’s not exactly right,” Tattletale said.
“It’s what you said,” Bitch responded, sounding irritated.
“I recommended puppy therapy,” Tattletale said. “Everyone loves puppies, so maybe it’s a way to deal when we’re feeling a bit lonely?”
Bitch looked at Charlotte. “You miss her?”
“Um. Yes?”
Bitch bent down, grabbing a puppy with one hand, then thrust it into Charlotte’s arms. She started to withdraw her hand, paused, then said, “It’s a loan.”
“Of course,” Charlotte said. She held the puppy close, scratched it behind the ear. She knew better than to argue the point.
“You?” Bitch asked Danny.
“No, thank you.”
“You don’t miss your daughter?” Bitch asked, narrowing her eyes a little.
“I do, I mean, I think I’ll see her soon, probably, but—”
“Then take it. For now.”
He surrendered in the face of her blunt approach, accepting the puppy.
“The kids,” Charlotte said. “They’ve already settled in bed, but I think they’d love to have a visit with the puppies. Tell them it’s just for a little while, they can cuddle, but they have to stay in bed. Oh, and they don’t know how to play with dogs, so be sure to teach them the ground rules, okay?”
Bitch nodded, then marched off with her new mission, the puppies leaping and falling over each other to keep up.
“Parian?” Tattletale asked. “Supervise?”
Parian nodded. She got down from the stool, and was joined by Flechette in heading to the back room.
“Well handled,” Tattletale said. “She—”
She paused as the children in the other room started squealing and shouting. Bitch’s barked orders could be heard over the racket.
“—doesn’t know how to handle this. We’re sort of forging new ground, but I think time’s the only thing that’s going to mend this wound. I think she’s hurting more than anyone, right now.”
Charlotte nodded.
Danny, though, said, “Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”
“I can do presumptuous,” Tattletale said. “Just trust me on this count, okay?”
Regent and Imp approached from the kitchen, finding spots on the floor of the living room to sit, just to the left of the television. They had arms full of snacks, including the little gummy candies Charlotte had been planning to give the kids in their school lunches.
She’d figure something else out. Best not to get distracted. The puppies would suffice as a treat for the kids right now.
Damn it, they’re going to ask to keep them, Charlotte thought. She scratched the puppy that now slept in her arms.
Grue stretched a hand in the direction of the pair, an unspoken request for one bag of snacks. Imp replied by hurling a small bag of chips at him, with the same sort of movement that might accompany throwing a baseball. It banked off of his helmet and fell behind the couch.
Grue grumbled, but he turned around to grab it.
Forrest arrived from the bedroom, pausing a second to take in the crowd in the living room.
“Okay, let’s get down to business,” Tattletale said. “Forrest, Charlotte, we’re backing you up, on Taylor’s behalf. As of now, the Boardwalk doesn’t fall in just one person’s territory. Parian, Grue and I will each have a hand in protecting it. As of tonight, it should be the safest place in the city. That’s all already handled. You’ll have our numbers, in case of emergency, but you should only use it if there’s real trouble. Supervillains attacking or something like that. This all goes more smoothly if we don’t maintain any obvious connection between our groups that can be exploited.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Sierra is working under me. She holds the property and presents our legitimate face to the public.”
Charlotte glanced at Sierra, who nodded.
“Property?” Charlotte asked.
“Everything we own in Brockton Bay, through a series of dummy corporations, is officially in her name. That includes the areas in the Boardwalk that Coil once controlled. From now on, you can contact us through her for all of the basics. I know Skitter arranged a way for those who contribute to the restoration of the Boardwalk to earn shares of property. Sierra will see to that. In a pinch, you can also talk to her about funding, big projects, and the like. But I don’t think it’ll come to that.”
Forrest frowned. “Why not?”
“Skitter arranged for her territory to be taken care of,” Tattletale said.
“She left us some money. For food, to pay people. Not a lot, but things should be sustainable by the time we run out.”
“The
re’s more,” Tattletale said. “She had a lot of money to spare. Some from illicit activity, more from the properties we acquired and sold. That’s going to you.”
“Wait, us?”
“To the Boardwalk. She mentioned getting the ferry up and running again, a new set of storefronts, and pushing for more residential areas. Duplexes, apartments, condos…”
“How much?”
“More than enough. Part of the procedures for joining the Wards includes a full background check. They’ll find out she had a lot of money, much of it illicit, and they’ll empty her accounts. It might not be a problem, but I recently changed to a different bank, so to speak, and they’re liable to find Skitter’s end of the paper trail.” Tattletale said.
Charlotte nodded.
“Something to use to take care of yourselves. And the kids,” Tattletale said.
Charlotte thought to what Scott had said. Had Taylor blamed herself after all? Was this a way of making amends?
“Part of the measures we’ll have for defending the Boardwalk will be the mercenaries I have on retainer,” Tattletale said. “Non-powered individuals, though they have experience fighting capes. They’re going to train your people.”
“Train?”
“In hand to hand, first aid, firearms and tactics for fighting bigger threats.”
Ethan reappeared in the front hall, hands jammed in his pockets. His eyes went wide as he took in the supervillains sitting in the area where he’d been watching TV not twenty minutes ago. Charlotte stood and ushered him towards the bedrooms.
Behind her, Forrest said, “That seems like it’ll cause more problems than it solves. People are resentful. There’s already cracks forming.”
“Discipline will help with that,” Grue said. “Time will help with the rest.”
“It’s not perfect,” Tattletale said. “The rest, we can figure out. What’s important is getting the foundation laid out, and being ready. Shit’s going to go down when villains start making plays for the interdimensional door.”
Charlotte studied the people who were sitting around the room. Concern, worry, anxiousness. “Are we going to make it?”
“Have to,” Tattletale said. She turned her head. Bitch was returning from the back room. She had only one puppy with her. The wolf cub. “Taylor won’t forgive us if we don’t.”
“You should know. When I was there,” Danny spoke up. “Alexandria offered her a hell of a deal. Two years of juvenile detention, and leaving the rest of you alone. It wasn’t everything she’d asked for. She said no, said she trusted you to handle things on your end. I don’t want to be offensive, but I couldn’t understand it. Still can’t. But I thought you should know.”
“She was prepared to leave us to our own devices when she surrendered,” Tattletale said. “But if she believes in us to that degree, that’s another reason we can’t fail.”
There were nods all around.
The discussion continued, but fatigue caught up to Charlotte at the same time that the details seemed to grow even more trivial. Bitch, for her part, was focused, listening intently, while Danny seemed reserved, not quite a part of this.
Was this influencing his decision? Which way would it, if it did?
It was midnight by the time they finished. Exhausted though they hadn’t fought anyone, weary Undersiders rose from their seats on the furniture and floors to make their way to the front door.
Charlotte accompanied Bitch to the bedroom, making her way to each bunk bed to collect a puppy, despite whispered protests and whimpers. A tiny heartbreak, each step of the way.
I’m going to have to get these kids dogs now, she thought, swearing to herself.
“Puppy therapy,” she murmured, on her way back to the front hall. Bitch was clipping the leashes onto the puppies.
“Mm,” Bitch grunted.
“Does it work?”
“Yes,” Bitch said. “But it’s not enough. I haven’t felt like this since… Brutus and Judas.”
Brutus and Judas? Charlotte didn’t recognize the names. “That’s natural, isn’t it? We’re people, we need other people close to us. A dog is… fantastic, but it can’t fill that void.”
Charlotte could see a crease in between Bitch’s eyebrows, but the look didn’t reach her eyes or mouth.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Bitch shook her head, but she didn’t reply.
“If you wanted to bring the dogs back, the kids would love it,” Charlotte said. “And… I’m thinking we’ll have to get at least one to keep. I think it could do them a lot of good, and they’d give the puppies more than enough love and care.”
Bitch’s silence extended for long seconds. She looked down at the puppies. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Bitch shrugged. She glowered at the ground, “She wanted me to go to the other side.”
“First I’m hearing of this,” Grue said.
“Through the portal,” Bitch said. “Police it. Keep that side safe.”
“There won’t be anything over there for at least a few weeks or months,” Tattletale said.
The glower deepened. “That… sounds good.”
“All on your own?” Charlotte asked, “But—”
“Me and my dogs,” Bitch said. Then she seemed to think of something. “Maybe.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Tattletale said.
With that done, the Undersiders departed.
Danny met Charlotte’s eyes.
“Decided?”
Danny shook his head.
“Could be that she did it for you,” she said. “I think even Tattletale was surprised she went over to the other side.”
Danny didn’t reply.
“Good luck, either way.”
“You too,” he answered.
“We survived,” Forrest said.
“We survived,” Charlotte said. “You’ll be by in the morning?”
Forrest nodded.
She waited until he was gone, then closed the shutter, being careful to lock it.
Then she ascended to the top floor, past Skitter’s room, with the now-empty terrariums and the armor stand with her old suit. She reached the top floor, where Skitter’s belongings had been collected and boxed.
I’d meant to show this to Danny, to see if there was anything he wanted to keep or to send to her.
She lay in her bed, Skitter’s old room, but sleep didn’t find her. She was still awake when her alarm buzzed. She rose and made her way downstairs to the bedroom. Checking on the kids.
Jessie’s bunk, dry.
No food under Mai’s pillow, or at the end of her bed. The girl had taken to hoarding food.
Others were asleep, though Ethan’s eyes were open, staring. She pulled his covers up a bit, and he smiled in the dark.
Aidan was awake too.
“I want a dog,” he whispered.
“I know,” she whispered back. “No nightmares?”
“Not any really bad ones since… five nights ago.”
“Five nights ago?”
“Had a good dream. A big dream.”
“About?”
He shook his head. “Can’t really remember.”
“Okay,” she whispered back. “Not a big deal.”
“But you told me to draw things or write them down after a bad dream,” he said. He pulled a pad of paper from the gap between his bunk and the wall.
She looked at it. It didn’t look like much of anything. Two scribbles, circles and dots.
“These big things… Fish?”
“I don’t remember. I think it started as a bad dream, and then became better.”
“And these dots or circles?” They only covered part of the page.
“Planets and stars. I only remember because that’s how I usually draw them.”
“What do you mean, you only remember?”
“Forgot. Even faster than I usually forget the bad dreams.”
She frowned. The way he described it, it put her
in mind of something. The day Skitter had rescued her. Someone had had a trigger event, and both Skitter and Tattletale had reacted.
The way the two had forgotten, and the things Tattletale had mumbled about while she was recuperating…
“You don’t have superpowers, do you?” she whispered.
Aidan shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” he said, in a very solemn manner.
If it wasn’t a trigger event, then what?
“Five nights ago?”
“I know because it was the night Skitter stayed out all night. I woke up a bit after she came in. I was drawing while she made noise in the kitchen.”
The night Skitter had been outed. Where had she been, and how did it connect?
If not a trigger event, the potential to trigger?
So many questions, and Skitter was no longer here to answer them.
Interlude 22 (Donation Bonus #1)
March 2nd, 1997
“Okay,” Daiichi said. His Japanese was easy, a lazy drawl. He paused at the top of the flight of stairs, sneering a touch as he waited for his followers to ascend. “If you don’t hurry, they’ll be gone by the time we get there.”
There were grumbles from the others.
“Why isn’t there an elevator?” Ren whined. Of all of them, he was the heaviest, the black jacket of his school uniform straining across his shoulders. He’d dyed his hair blond, but hadn’t yet found a good style to wear it. Ren was Daiichi’s lieutenant; most thought that was because Daiichi put too much stock in Ren’s size, ignoring the fact that he was more fat than muscular. People who knew Daiichi better speculated that it was because Daiichi wanted someone fat and ugly that could offset his own good looks. Only those inside Daiichi’s group and the people who crossed them knew better.
“Only three floors,” Daiichi said. “And we wouldn’t use it if they had one. They could have someone watching.”
“With only two of them?” Ryo asked.
“Can’t hurt to be safe,” Arata said.
Kenta was the first up the flight of stairs. Daiichi clapped one hand on his shoulder. Their leader asked, “Ready?”
“Ready,” Kenta answered. His heart pounded.
For others, for his neighbors and peers, conformity was safety. To be the same as one’s peers, it reassured the self, reassured others. Standing out was bad.