With Friends Like These, 3-4

A bit late, but life happened.

--==--

Taylor squeezed her backpack to her chest, a life preserver on the sea of trepidation that she now found herself. The bag in her arms squirmed from within, as her friends made their discomfort at her squeezing felt.

“Sorry guys,” she whispered to the bag, loosening her grip.

“Taylor, you okay?” Her dad asked her from where he stood next to her. He looked worried about her, and Taylor didn’t blame him.

“Yeah dad, I’m fine,” she lied. “I just want to get this over with.”

“Me too, kiddo. Trust me, I’m nervous about this too.”

“Yeah.” With a deep breath, Taylor reached out with a hand to the front door of the PRT headquarters and pulled it open before stepping inside, her father right after her.

The lobby of the PRT headquarters was about what she expected. Polished tile floor, white painted walls and ceiling. There was seating around the space, as well as a gift shop that dominated one side of the room. It was empty of people, save for a pair of PRT troopers acting as security and a lone receptionist seated behind a desk at the far end of the lobby. Likewise, the gift shop was closed, the lights behind the glass off.

The two of them walked onward, toward the receptionist at the desk who looked up as they approached. “Can I help you?”

“Two to meet Mr. Wallis,” her father said, using the apparent name of Armsmaster. Taylor still felt bad about yesterday in that regard. She, or rather Benny, had unwittingly ‘unmasked’ Armsmaster. Taylor didn’t need to be a cape junkie to know why that was a bad thing. However, the man himself had seemed more surprised than anything else. He had wanted to know how Benny had somehow known off of the bat, something Taylor also wanted to know. Taylor had tried to ask Benny, but he had only repeated his declaration of ‘Beard Man’ to her. Somehow he had just known. Benny might have possessed some sort of special ability for finding Capes, or it could have just been luck that he recognized the hero out of his costume.

Come to think of it, Simmie had done the same thing with Lisa. There was probably more to it, but it could wait for a spell. At least until the current drama passed and she had an opportunity to experiment more with her friends’ myriad powers.

The woman glanced back down at her computer, checking something. “They are expecting you,” she told them. “If you would have a seat, someone will be down to escort you shortly.”

Taylor and her dad glanced at one another, before both of them nodded and sat down on a bench in the lobby. The bag continued to squirm in her ams. “Shh, guys,” she whispered to the bag.

Snacks?

Dummy.

Drinks?

No! Snacks!

“Soon,” she whispered to her backpack.

“Are they giving you trouble?” her dad leaned over, whispering into her ear.

“They’re just impatient,” she replied. “You promised them treats after all.”

“We did, didn’t we? But didn’t Benny eat that whole thing before we left?” Her dad had been referring to the jawbreaker. Not a different one, but the same jawbreaker that Lisa had first given to Benny the day prior. Benny had doggedly tried and failed to gnaw on it all day and into the night, his miniscule claws, jaws and teeth incapable of doing anything more than scratching its surface. Only when Taylor had reminded the little guy that he could also melt things had he managed to make progress, reshaping the molten candy into something he could fit into his maw.

“Yeah, he’s a bottomless pit,” Taylor explained as she remembered his sense of satisfaction at finally defeating the treat. “They all are, but at least the other two are modest about it.”

“I see.” The squirming slowed and mostly stopped after a moment. And after another, an elevator opened off to the side of the room and through the doors stepped none other than Armsmaster himself, clad in his signature blue and silver armor. Or Mr. Wallis, Taylor recalled.

“Mr. and Miss Hebert,” he spoke, “Please come with me. The Director is waiting for you.”

The both of them nodded, wordlessly following the cape into the elevator. As the doors closed, Taylor realized that the man wasn’t wearing the same helmet that Benny had taken and had been subsequently returned. Was it a spare?

“Mr. Armsmaster?”

“Yes?”

“Your helmet. Did Benny-”

“This is an older spare helmet,” he explained before she could finish. “Due to regulations, I cannot use any equipment that has been taken or altered by an Endbringer.”

“Oh.” Well, that is a blunt way to say that. “And your halberd?”

“Also a spare.” The way he said it made it sound like he was a little angry about it.

“But didn’t Simmie change your halberd back?” It came off as a question she knew the answer to. Before returning the halberd, Taylor had told Simmie to fix the man’s weapon back to the way it was before she modified it. Which she had done with a smile and flourish, the metallic silvery sheen the weapon component had taken on reverting to a comparatively dull blue and gray.

“Regulations are regulations,” he stated.

“Okay.” A beat passed in silence. “Again, I’m sorry. We’re sorry. Maybe Simmie can help you make new equipment?” Taylor tried asking.

A beat passed, where the only sound was crappy elevator music. “While I appreciate the offer, I suspect that that would require approval well beyond my authority.”

That was probably the Director then, she thought. Before she could think of anything else to say, the elevator stopped and the doors opened, and the three of them stepped out.

The decor was better than the lobby, but only just. The walls and ceiling were the same color, but there was carpeting here. However, it was just the thin bland carpet you’d find in any office. They continued on, the armored cape leading them to a wood door at the end of the hallway and past a secretary sat behind a desk. Armsmaster knocked, and a muffled reply came from within. He opened the door and led them inside.

The inside of the office was nicer still, as the carpeting was now more plush than the hallway. Behind the wooden desk sat a woman who, while not quite fat wasn’t exactly thin either. She was looking down at a collection of papers on her desk, absorbed in whatever it was that she was reading.

“Director Piggot?” Armsaster called out.

The woman looked up, looking first at Taylor, then down to her book bag and then to her dad. Mister Hebert, Miss Hebert,” she started. Taylor recognized her voice, from several days before in the boat graveyard when she had eavesdropped onto a conversation. She glanced down at the bookbag Taylor was holding in her arms. “That backpack? Are they-”

“In here?” Taylor finished for the woman, squeezing her bag in emphasis. “Should I not have brought them along?”

“I…” She trailed off. “Are they hazardous?”

Taylor could hear the apprehension in her voice, so she was quick to reassure her. “They’re on their best behavior,” she grinned. “They’ll get treats if they behave.”

“And they hid under my nose for a month,” Danny chuckled. “They even help with chores and cooking. I think the only threats they pose are to our pantry.”

For a long and pregnant moment, the director of the PRT said nothing. She sat there in silence, her lips drawn as she seemingly regarded what Taylor said. Armsmaster remained impassive, although Taylor got the impression that his gaze never wavered from her bag. “Okay,” Piggot finally spoke, the skepticism evident in her voice. “Take a seat then. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about. Would you prefer I call you by your cape name or your civilian name?”

“Taylor is fine, I think.” Her cape name. According to PHO, the PRT was calling her Tiamat, after an ancient primordial goddess of the sea. The name felt appropriate, although she would have preferred something less… Endbringer-y. Her dad patted her on the back to reassure her, and Taylor stepped forward and took a seat at one of the two chairs while her dad sat in the other. Armsmaster stepped off to the side of the room, giving the task of speaking to his superior.

“Before I begin, I for one would like to apologize,” Piggot said. “For what it’s worth, please believe me when I said that both myself and Armsmaster were unaware of Shadow Stalker’s actions against you.”

Shadow Stalker, or as Taylor had discovered two nights before, Sophia Hess. In hindsight it had explained a lot, or it had seemed to explain a lot. Legend himself had been quick to clarify that the PRT by and large had no idea what Sophia had been up to, due to Winslow and Sophia’s handler apparently covering up her… activities. Lisa had explained their motivations as being mainly financial in nature, and more attributable to incompetence than spite. Legend had filled in other details, things that neither Taylor or her dad had ever known.

She thought back to that night, where one moment the other girl had seemingly been all but fawning over her, admiring her Friends’ takedowns of some of the most dangerous capes in the city. And a moment later when the masks had come off, both literally and metaphorically speaking, Sophia had reverted to right back being a bully. Even with Benny wrapping his arms and claws around her to restrain her she kept at it, mocking her despite the clear difference in terms of power. Internally she smiled at the memory of Benny chewing on Sophia’s hair, the panicked cries for help as he gave her the comeuppance she was so deserving of.

“That was about as much as Legend said,” Her dad spoke, his tone forcefully level. “And even after hearing it from him, I still have a hard time believing that nobody knew.” Taylor knew that tone, when he was just barely keeping himself from shouting or flying off the cuff. Even after the explanations from both Lisa and Legend, her dad was still angry to an extent.

“Then please allow me to convince you.” She gestured to the multiple folders before her. “Sophia Hess, formerly known as Shadow Stalker, and what I’ve come to know about her in the past couple of days.”

“Formerly?” Taylor asked.

“As of last night, she has been removed from the Wards Program due to multiple grievous violations of the terms of her probation,” She began to explain. “Normally this process can formally take weeks or months, but it would seem that both the leader of the Protectorate and my own boss have ensured that it happens much more quickly. As of right now she’s in juvenile detention, pending a formal hearing. She had put up something of a fuss, but as I understand it, she went quietly in the end after the Chief Director herself had words with her.”

“Speaking of,” Armsmaster interjected, “The Chief Director may wish to speak with you at some point. I have gotten the impression that she has taken this situation personally.”

“Oh. I see,” her dad replied. Mentally, Taylor was reeling. The Director of the local PRT she could understand, but the Chief Director, the boss of the woman across the desk from her? Of course it made sense, considering her claims about her Friends. To someone like that, it might have seemed that she’d mastered three of the most dangerous beings on the planet. And if she could master the Endbringers, what else could she mentally dominate?

Joke was on them though, trying to get her Friends to do anything was like trying to herd cats. Small, absurdly powerful cats that cuddled up to her every night and could make her tea and a costume and who knew what else.

“Legend talked about that, probation,” her dad asked. “What does that mean though, exactly? For her?”

“Miss Hess, prior to her induction into the Wards, was a vigilante.” Taylor nodded, as she seemed to remember reading that somewhere, probably on PHO. “What the public at large wasn’t aware of was that she had a penchant for violence against her chosen targets, up to and including attempted manslaughter.”

Danny grimaced at that. “And you just let a psycho her join up?”

The Director sighed. “I did, yes.” Her dad was about to speak again, but the Director waved him off. “Let me explain, Mr. Hebert. The Wards as a program was designed to recruit and train the next generations of heroes, and to help guide young parahumans to help them adjust to using their powers for good. Hess was hardly the worst person to ever join the Protectorate. The program was meant to help people like her, and people like your daughter.”

“I wouldn’t call Sophia a hero, or even good,” Taylor said.

“A fact out of many that only today are coming to light, in contrast to what her case worker and handler would have led us to believe.” The woman sighed. “And while the full investigations are pending, your… associate’s accusations and theories are unfortunately panning out.”

Lisa. Or rather, Tattletale. Taylor still wasn’t entirely sure what to think about the girl. She’d seemed overly friendly and helpful, yes, But so had others in her life, only to turn around and stab her in the back when she least expected it. Even after admitting to Taylor that she was a villain, Taylor still had trouble picturing her as such, especially after all the help she’d given her regarding her Friends. So the night before, Taylor had looked up the girl on the Parahumans wiki with her tablet to see if there was anything else about Tattletale.

Unfortunately, there was little more than a blurry photograph and a brief summary that was probably inaccurate anyways. The article about her did say that she was obviously a Thinker, something Lisa had herself explained and demonstrated. It also said that she was a part of a group called the Undersiders, a team of apparent villains that carried out small time thefts from the gangs endemic to the city, but nothing any worse than that. The Undersiders did however have a cape named Hellhound, who had apparently killed someone in the past.

Whatever the case might be, Simmie had seemingly deemed Lisa to be okay in her book. That, and the fact that Lisa had basically unmasked in front of both her and her dad? At the very least, Lisa was willing to show her a little trust, even if Director Piggot didn’t want to. Lisa had explained to them that malfeasance and corruption were probably at play, and how the PRT provided grants and the like to schools hosting members of the Wards. The idea was that the money would be spent improving the facilities and the overall safety of the campus. Except, if the broken fixtures in bathrooms, gang graffiti and overall run-downness of the place demonstrated, little if any of that money had made it beyond the pockets of a couple of corrupt bureaucrats. Blackwell had thrown Taylor under the bus to line her own pocket, and she doubted that the woman would even regret it.

“So how bad was it?” her dad asked the Director. “It sounds like someone who wanted an easy job.” Her dad sighed, crossing his arms. “Both her and that wretch Blackwell. Let me guess, they were splitting the money, right?”

The Director nodded. “As I am coming to understand it, Hess’s handler and the school Principal were pocketing the money. They covered up the actions of Hess, presumably because her actions coming to light would have sparked an official investigation.”

“An investigation that would have shown their corruption?”

“Precisely, Mr. Hebert.”

Lisa had mentioned malfeasance and corruption as probably at play, and how the PRT provided grants and the like to schools hosting members of the Wards. The idea was that the money would be spent improving the facilities and the overall safety of the campus. Except, if the broken fixtures in bathrooms, gang graffiti and overall run-downness of the place demonstrated, little if any of that money had made it beyond the pockets of a couple of corrupt bureaucrats. Blackwell hadn’t merely thrown Taylor under the bus out of spite, she’d done it just for a windfall. If she had hated the woman before, it was nothing compared to what she felt for her now.

Her Friends began to stir and squirm once more, no doubt agitated by her swirling emotions. She stamped her simmering anger down, lest her Friends do something unfortunate. Taylor couldn’t help but feel that everything being done for her now, Director Piggot’s promises and Legend’s kind words, had nothing to do with her or any injustice done to her but more to do with what she had at her beck and call. It didn’t feel to her like actions borne from any sort of genuine desire to help her, but merely to placate her or to buy her cooperation. Although, if Taylor was honest with herself, she wasn’t going to complain in either case.

“Are they getting punished too? Her handler, I mean?”

“Hess’s case worker has been suspended and detained, pending a proper investigation. As for The school principal of Winslow, she is simply out of my jurisdiction. I can say though that the proper authorities with the Brocton Bay Police Department have taken an interest in the case, after forwarding the report and evidence that the PRT collected to them.”

“So that’s it,” Taylor said. It had seemed like all of her problems had disappeared, almost. Her bullies, the people responsible for sheltering them. It only took getting a whole host of new problems big and small. Some of those problems were smaller than others, most of the time.

Speaking of, Taylor was suddenly, keenly aware of how much squirming was going on in the bag in her arms, her Friends suddenly vying to escape its confines. And before she could really do anything, the zipper split open and the three of them burst out. For Taylor, time seemed to slow down as she watched in mortified horror as Benny sailed through the air with a roaring exclamation of Freedom! Before landing on the Director’s desk, belly-flopping onto the folders and papers before her. Simmie followed immediately after Benny, turning into a blur and darting around the Director’s office, squeaking and chirping in excitement all the while before face planting squarely into Armsmaster’s visor. Friend! She happily chirped.

For a moment, nobody spoke. “Um,” was all that Taylor managed to get out after the moment passed. Next to her, her dad sighed with a chuckle. Elsewhere, Armsmaster pried the chirping and bubbly Simmie off of his visor, said mini-Endbringer managing to have left a dusty outline of herself on it. Simmie just waved at him in his grasp, chirping happily.

“It- She’s wearing clothing?” He asked.

“Oh! Yeah, she made herself an outfit yesterday,” Taylor answered. The tiny bodysuit that Simmie had created to wear was a miniature counterpart to the inner layer of Taylor’s own costume, albeit with slits and holes for her myriad wings to poke through. It could also stretch and grow with her, something that Taylor had helped Simmie experiment with the night before. Taylor couldn’t help but blush as she remembered how… form-fitting it could really be when Simmie grew larger. She also remembered with a blush that she’d fallen asleep in her… in Simmie’s embrace last night.

“Miss Hebert, your minion please?” Director Piggot’s eyes were on Benny, who now stood atop her desk. The little guy was looking up at the Director, the woman herself having rolled her chair back, almost to the window behind it. Her gaze never wavered from Benny.

As for the last of her trio of troublemakers, Levi calmly slid out of the backpack and up her arm, depositing himself on her shoulder. His head brushed against the nape of her neck, nuzzling against her affectionately Taylor couldn’t help but feel a little bit better about being in the PRT Director’s office. Her earlier upsetedness simply dissolved away with him perched comfortably there.

“Hey, Benny?”

“Rawr!” Snacks! He waved at Director Piggot. Her chair bumped into the window behind her.

“It’s not polite to scare the Director.” She leaned forward and reached out to scoop her friend up, the little guy fitting right into her hands. “Remember what I said earlier, about the snacks later?”

“Rawr?” Snacks?

“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “Remember, if you behave today, we’ll get treats and drinks and snacks later. That goes for the others here too, right Simmie?”

Sweets! Simmie chirped. She slipped out of Armsmaster’s grasp, waving goodbye at him before floating back over to Taylor and plopping down onto her head. Taylor deposited Benny on her free shoulder, the little guy no doubt fantasizing about delicious snacks.

“I dare ask, but what did you… bribe them with?” Piggot asked her, having managed to regain her composure.

“Fugly Bob’s,” Danny answered for her.

“Fugly…” she trailed off. “Fast food?”

“We haven’t been in a while. And the way I understand it, Fugly’s the gold standard for greasy spoons in the Bay.”

“Yeah,” Taylor said. “I wanted to broaden their food horizons, see if they like other things. No offense dad, but they’re probably getting burned out on leftovers.”

“I… I don’t even… And you’ve given them names too.” The Director closed her eyes, reaching up to rub her forehead. She took a deep breath, before opening them to look at her. Her, and not her menagerie of Friends. “Anyways, Hess will be punished. You have my word on that. Now, with that subject out of the way, I wish to talk about you, Miss Hebert.”

“Me?”

“Yes. More specifically, what do you intend to do from here on out?”

“Oh.” Taylor probably hadn’t given the subject as much thought as she should have, despite her prospects and overall fate being around or near the forefront of her mind for weeks now. Yes, she wanted to be a hero, but considering what she was, what she was capable of? What she called friends? Hero was a tall order to say the least.

“Right now? I guess I want to put this behind me. After that, I want to be a hero.”

“Well, that is a fortunate thing to hear,” the Director said. “Although if you stated your intentions to become a villain, or join the Empire or worse, I doubt anyone here could stop you.”

“I- I wouldn’t do that,” Taylor was quick to say. “I… don’t think they’d want me, not after Benny, umm, nibbled on Hookwolf.”

Piggot raised an eyebrow. “I suppose there’s a story there.”

“There is.” Next to her, Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “But yeah, I do want to be a hero. Legend suggested that I look for some sort of partnership with the PRT and Protectorate. Pursue that, if I wanted to stay independent.”

“Legend informed me that you might want something akin to that. He also mentioned that you would probably be hesitant to join the local Wards team. That leaves an independent affiliate program as the next best potential option.”

Taylor nodded. “Yeah. Simmie is a Tinker, and the others would love to do hero stuff too. They had a fun time the other night.” She had decided outright against joining the Wards. To a degree, nothing either Lisa or Legend had told her had influenced that decision, and most of it in the end had come down to the simple fact that she didn’t want to involve herself in any more teen drama as long as she still was one. The Wards were, well, probably full of that. Maybe when she was a little older, and after she had gotten to know the local members would she even think about reconsidering. For now, Taylor just wanted space.

Besides, what else could she honestly do? Forge it alone, and risk getting her dad or even herself hurt? Wind up becoming a joke villain, like Uber and Leet were? Maybe she could pretend to be some sort of Saturday morning cartoon villain…

“Perhaps I could propose an alternative,” A voice spoke as the door to the Director’s office opened. The female voice jolted Taylor out of her thoughts, and four heads turned almost in unison to take in the newcomer. A newcomer that Taylor almost immediately recognized, from her prodigious height, shimmering scaled costume, lack of mask and most distinctly the two foot long horn sticking from her forehead that forced the newcomer to duck under the door frame as she entered.

“Greetings, Director Piggot,” Narwhal, the leader of the Guild, spoke. “I was told by an acquaintance that there was someone here who I might want to speak to."