Archive of Our Own ^beta

“-Don’t need that kind of heat, Taylor! Leaving a Ward in that state is going too far,” Brian’s voice echoes through the loft, anger and worry mixing into a slurry of noise. His fists clench briefly, before he forces himself to relax. “I know you were just looking out for the team, but did you have to use so many spiders?”

Taylor looks at him, face passive and restrained. If not for the twitching of her eyebrows, and the light tugging of her lips, one would assume she wasn’t feeling anything at all. I glance to the side, eyeing the curious gazes of Alec and Rachel as they watch the argument with interest. Alec’s leaning against the wall, tossing his scepter casually. Rachel has her arms folded and is standing by the front door, her dogs tense and alert at the noise.

“I did what I thought I had to,” Taylor’s voice is flat. “I went too far, I’ll admit that much, but I don’t regret it. He almost killed Lisa.”

“Personally,” I interject before Brian can respond. “I’m very grateful to not be chained to a hospital bed in some third rate PRT holding cell.”

I flash Taylor a smile, hoping it reaches my eyes. Neither of us had expected Kid Win to fire a gun that powerful into the bank. Frankly, I’m lucky to have all my limbs, even if my left arm is going to take at least a month to become functional again.

Coil’s doctor doesn’t expect it to work right at that point, but at least I’ll have an arm.

Taylor’s lips twitch minutely at my smile, and I have to suppress a slight shudder. I’d never admit it aloud, but she’s started to scare me. She’s my best friend, and even if it’s only been a couple of weeks since we met, I love her to pieces. That doesn’t change the fact that knowing someone would literally kill for you is a bit terrifying.

“I know, and hitting him back was the right response,” Brian sounds exasperated now. “That’s not the problem. The problem is that they’re going to use this as justification to hit harder now. Threats and hostages are one thing, but pumping one of their own full of spider venom? They take that personally.”

Taylor spends about five seconds staring at him, before nodding slowly. “Sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

The ‘unless I have to’ remains unspoken, but all of us heard it regardless. Brian seems like he wants to call her out on it, based on how his eyes narrow, before he settles for pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

“Thank you. I need to pick up my sister from school, so I’m going to head out. Money transfer is tomorrow, and we’ll all get paid,” he says before marching out the door. He doesn’t quite stomp, but it definitely feels like he wants to.

“I’m going to walk my dogs,” Rachel says bluntly, pausing to look at Taylor on her way out. “Good job. Really fucked him up.”

I feel a small surge of warmth at Rachel’s approval. The fact that she cares enough about me to appreciate Taylor’s brutality in my defense is more than I expected from her, even if it makes some sense in retrospect. She may not like me, but we’re on the same team.

“That was exciting,” Alec says dryly. “Hey Lisa, can I use the screen?”

I give him a one shouldered shrug. “I don’t care. Just keep the volume low, I’ve got a bit of a headache still.”

“Sweet.” He hops into one of the armchairs and grabs the remote and one of his game controllers. Soon enough the sounds of heavy rock music and clashing metal fill the room, turned just high enough to be irritating, but not so high as to actually aggravate my head.

Taylor stands awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do with herself. “Taylor, can you bring me my laptop? I want to check what the news has to say about today.”

She nods, grabs it off the table, and walks towards me. I flip it open with my good hand, grumbling to myself as I input my password one-handed. This is going to get very annoying very quickly. I start flipping between news pages, deftly swapping tabs with hotkeys as I refresh the pages.

The PHO comments are useless, as usual, but there is a post that links to what I actually care about.

‘Undersiders hit Brockton Central Bank, making off with the contents of the vault, and leaving the Wards defeated in their wake!’

… Their new member – dubbed ‘Widow’ by PRT analysts, based on her usage of Black Widow spiders – left Kid Win nearly catatonic after he made a valiant attempt to free the hostages from the villainess. Luckily, New Wave’s Panacea was on the scene, otherwise the young Ward’s injuries could have been fatal.

I roll my eyes at their framing, my arm still burning where Kid Win’s laser impacted. Taylor reads over my shoulder, and she inhales sharply when she gets to the part about lethality. It’s not much, but the fact that she feels guilty helps loosen some of the tension in my shoulders.

“Widow’s a good name,” I comment, trying to distract from the rest of the article.

“Better than anything I thought of,” Taylor says, sounding distracted. I crane my neck to look back at her, letting down my walls for just a moment as I read her.

Tense; flushed; embarrassed; mortified; guilty; pupils dilated. Pointedly not looking down. Avoiding something. Avoiding looking down shirt. Embarrassed; wants to respect me. Has a crush. Doesn’t regret violence. Guilty about crush.

I slam down on my power, and ignore the horrible churning sensation in my gut. My power’s been wrong about people before. This is probably more of that. I’m pretty sure I saw her eying Brian a couple of times, so I don’t know why she’d have a crush on me. I mean, she could be bisexual, but I’d rather not just jump to conclusions.

“Wanna watch some videos?” I ask instead, bringing up youtube and clicking on a random cape-fail compilation.

“Sure,” Taylor says. I shift over on the couch, and pat the seat next to me on my uninjured side. She hesitates for a split second, before sitting down almost close enough to touch. She’s incredibly careful with her movements to avoid jostling me, which is sweet of her. I start playing the video, and she leans in to get a better angle.

By the second video, our legs are flush together, and her face is near mine. I can almost hear her heart hammering in her chest. Unless it’s my heart hammering? Either way, it’s hard to focus on the videos. Not when I have butterflies in my stomach, a dull throb in my head, and tingles in my arm as the painkillers wear off.

It doesn’t matter if she has a crush on me, not really. She’s still my best friend, and that’s not going to change. She’ll get over it, and things can go back to normal. Even if she doesn’t get over it, that doesn’t mean things have to change. I can just… redirect her to Brian or something. Distract her.

Distract me, because if I think too hard about how far she’s willing to go for me, I’ll start to get ideas, and that won’t end well for either of us.

Hesitantly, as if worried she’ll scare me off, she rests her head on my shoulder. She’s tense, coiled like a spring.

I rest my head on hers, and all that tension melts away in an instant. She breathes out, relaxing against me as I queue a third video up.

I could honestly get used to this, which is the scariest part of this whole thing.

*****

Brian doesn’t say a word to Taylor as we shuffle back into the loft. Today was a shit-show. What was supposed to be a routine job for the boss turned into an ambush by the heroes. Miss Militia put a gun to my head, and the only reason she’s still alive is that Armsmaster made a custom bug zapper to counteract Widow.

She keeps looking at me, worry and guilt flickering across her face. She’s still conflicted, both about her crush, and the actions she keeps taking in my defense. It’s flattering, in a scary sort of way. I smile weakly at her, and wave a hand to invite her into my room. Maybe this is encouraging her too much, but I want to thank and reassure her, at least a little.

On the bright side, she’s stopped considering betraying the team.

“Can you grab my zipper?” I ask as soon as she closes the door. She goes still. “I didn’t ask you in here for that, if you were wondering. I want to talk to you, but I figured I’d ask while you’re here. If you’re not comfortable-”

“It’s fine,” she says a little too quickly. She steps forward, brushing aside the flap to reveal the zipper on the back of my costume. She pulls it down, holding her breath all the while. It only goes to about mid back, but that’s enough to reveal my thin tank top and bra straps.

“There should be a change of clothes for you in my bag. I wanted to make sure I had a spare incase we needed to get changed in the field real quick,” I explain, gesturing behind me and pointedly not turning around. I don’t think I could handle seeing her expression right now. “I promise I won’t look.”

“Okay,” she says blankly, and the sound of shuffling fabric meets my ears. I strip as quickly as my bum arm allows, grabbing a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt to go over my thin leggings and tank top; I’m not about to let my bare skin sweat against my waterproof catsuit.

“I wanted to thank you,” I say, ignoring the tingling sensation of being watched. I know I’m imagining it, because I can see her reflection in the mirror, and her back’s been turned to me this entire time (the hypocrisy doesn’t escape me, I just don’t care). “For helping again.”

There’s a pause, and then the shuffling resumes. “I went too far again.”

“You did,” I confirm. “But you did it for me, and I appreciate that. A lot. I’m done, by the way.”

“Me too,” she responds, and we both turn to face each other. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie, unzipped to reveal a t-shirt one size too small. “Brian’s mad at me.”

“He’ll get over it,” I shrug, smiling lightly at my friend. “He’s worried about us, but the violence doesn’t bother him as much as the consequences. Besides, the Boss wants to meet with us soon, which is going to make things easier for Brian.”

Taylor tenses at the reminder of her prior goal of turning our identities over to the heroes. Not that there was really any risk of that, of course, not once she befriended us. “The boss? He’s going to meet us in person?”

“Yup.” I step within arms reach of her. “He wants to bring the team into his inner circle. We’re about to hit the big leagues!”

I let my smile stretch into a grin I only half feel. It’s exciting to be moving up in the world, even if I still have mixed feelings about the boss himself. Yes, I wasn’t recruited under the kindest conditions, but he’s been reasonable since then. Maybe we can still have a working relationship.

Maybe the child that went missing at the same time we robbed the bank had nothing to do with him.

“That’s… wow,” Taylor blinks.

“This is all thanks to you,” I smile, stepping just a bit closer. “You’re a wonderful member of the team, and a wonderful friend. I know you feel bad about earlier, but I’m telling you it’s fine. Trust me.”

Taylor stares at me, eyes watering slightly. Her lips part, and then close, like she was going to speak and then changed her mind. I feel myself soften looking at her. Those brown eyes, wide with devotion and affection. Her gaze flicks to my lips, lingering for a second before jerking back to mine.

I see what she’s going to do before she does it. Before she even starts moving, I realize what’s going to happen. I could move away, back up and act like it wasn’t about to happen. Pretend that I missed it.

I don’t move, and her lips press against mine.

She uses green apple chapstick.

That’s about the only thought that goes through my head as she kisses me. It’s not as bad as I thought, but it’s also not as good as some small part of me wanted it to be. That horrible churning feeling in my stomach is back. I want to return her feelings, and yet this does nothing for me. No sparks, no surge of emotion, just soft lips pressing gently against me.

She pulls back, her expression poleaxed. I didn’t return the kiss. I didn’t even think to, despite that being what you’re supposed to do. Or well, what you’re supposed to do when you want it? Or return the affection? Fuck, this shouldn’t be so difficult. It’s so easy to pick out how it’s supposed to work when I’m watching it happen to other people, so why can’t I do anything now?

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t- I’ll just go,” she stammers, taking a step back.

“Don’t,” I say, voice feeling slightly distant. She freezes in place, and I take a deep breath to gather my racing thoughts. “I’m not mad. Just. I’m processing it.”

Taylor doesn’t move. She doesn’t even breathe. I turn the words over in my mind, desperately flailing as I try to figure out what to say. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?

“I like you,” I start, and I can see her mood plummeting. “I like you a lot. You’re probably my favorite person in the whole world. But… my power makes relationships difficult.”

“Okay,” she says, voice very flat.

“It hasn’t come up, so it’s not your fault for not knowing, but it’s really hard to start something when my power whispers people secrets into my ears. Imagine being able to tell the last time someone washed their hands when they hold your hand,” I ramble, stalling for time as the words slip out faster than I can come to conclusions. Taylor nods quietly. “So we’re going to have to take things slow, alright?”

Wait, fuck, why did I say that?

It takes her a minute to comprehend my words, and her eyes go very wide. “You mean?”

Might as well commit. “Yeah. I don’t know how it’ll go, but you’re my best friend. I like you a lot. I figure if it doesn’t work with you, it won’t work with anyone.” 

The words don’t feel quite right, but then they don’t feel wrong either. It’s frustrating not knowing exactly what to do or say, and I’m not used to being in this position. Despite that, I smile reassuringly. Whether that’s for her or myself is a question I don’t know the answer to. At least I’m not lying. I may not know exactly how I feel, or if I can even return her feelings in the way she wants, but… I’m willing to try for her. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t, but she’s different.

She’s done so much for me, how could I possibly pick any other response? 

I step forward, and slowly extend my arms for a hug. She meets me halfway, and practically melts into my embrace. The tension in my shoulders unwinds as she buries her face in my shoulder. This is nice, actually. The hug is nice. Very nice.

If it’s like this the whole time, I think I could get used to this.

That thought isn’t as scary as it used to be.

*****

I adjust my outfit in the mirror one more time, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in my skirt as I glare at my reflection. I look fine. I have my nice canvas shoes, a pair of non-obtrusive ankle socks, a denim skirt, a green blouse that compliments my eyes, and a loose jacket to cover my arm brace.

Everything’s fine. It’s just coffee and window shopping, we’ve done this a dozen times before. It’s not that weird.

I mean, it’s a date this time, but that shouldn’t make things different. We’re still the same people, right? It’s not like putting the ‘date’ label on an outing should change that.

Except, I’ve seen so many people turn on a dime the second they got into a romantic relationship. That’s one of the things that turned me off them once I got my powers. I’d watch as boundaries got pushed, friendly smiles turned strained, and breakups shattered friend groups. Always from afar, of course. I never let myself get involved.

Well, except for that one time, but even if I hadn’t said anything they would have broken up within the week. Probably.

“Lisa, Taylor’s waiting for you,” Brian’s voice startles me out of my reminiscing. I take a deep breath, and sling my purse over my shoulder.

I push open the door, and he gives me an encouraging, if slightly amused, smile. I scowl at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he puts his hands up defensively. “Just that Taylor’s stressing just as much as you are.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not stressed.”

“Your hair clip is off center,” he says, reaching over and adjusting it for me. I swat his hand away the second he finishes, giving him the evil eye for good measure.

“Laugh it up,” I say, brushing past him as rudely as I can manage. This doesn’t phase him, if his chuckles are anything to go by.

Taylor’s standing in the entrance, arms folded as she glares at Alec. I glance between the two of them, before deciding I’d rather not know what he said that got him that particular look. Taylor’s eyes flick to me as I step towards her, and the annoyance slips off her like water from a duck’s back.

“Oh. You look really nice,” she says, face going pink.

“Thanks,” I smile, stomach doing a little flip as she looks me over. Her eyes are like ants, crawling across my skin, but it’s not bad. Well, not that bad. I’ll get used to it. “You look nice yourself.”

She does, I’m not lying. She’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans I picked out for her, displaying her long legs. She’s also wearing a crop top, and her hoodie is tied around her waist.

“My sister helped her pick an outfit when Taylor helped me with my furniture the other day,” Brian says, and I’m abruptly reminded that he’s still here. Or rather, that I’m still here and suffering the attention of the boys.

“Give her my compliments then,” I say as I step towards the exit, grabbing Taylor’s hand as I move for the door. I awkwardly stop when I remember that I can’t actually turn the handle with my left hand yet, given that it’s still in a fairly tight brace.

Taylor reaches over me and opens the door, allowing me to pull her down the stairs and towards the street.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Alec calls out, which causes Taylor’s face to flush red.

“Fuck off, Alec,” I call back as the door closes behind us. “As if there’s anything he wouldn’t do,” I mutter for Taylor’s benefit as we leave.

“What do you mean?” Taylor asks, tone guarded in that way she gets when she’s fishing for info on the team. Not that she needs to be guarded anymore, now that she’s committed, but old habits die hard.

“Not my place to say,” I shrug. “He’s had a rough life, and seen things. It’s part of why he doesn’t care about much.”

Taylor nods absently as we walk towards the Boardwalk, hands clasped together. After several minutes, my hand gets clammy and gross, so I let go and stick it in my jacket pocket instead. I don’t miss the flash of disappointment that crosses her face, but my hand was sticky. I’m not about to subject her to that, not when it’s supposed to be a good time today.

“So, anywhere in particular you want to go? After we get coffee, I mean,” I ask, running through the list of conversation topics I prepared in the event of an awkward silence like this one.

Taylor just shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve never done something like this before.”

“Neither have I.” She looks at me, an eyebrow raised in surprise at my admittance. “I told you, my power makes this hard.”

“Oh. Right. I thought that maybe you’d done something like this before you got powers,” Taylor says, glancing at her feet. She’s striking like this. The morning sun silhouetting her against the decaying city, hands hooked loosely into her tiny jean pockets, and her long curly hair fluttering slightly in the breeze.

“I think I went on one date.” I scrunch up my face as I poke at memories I’d rather leave buried. “It was a group date thing, and people were basically just paired together so the couple organizing could feel like they were including everyone. I didn’t even know the guy I got paired with, and he was about as enthused to be there as I was, so I wasn’t going to count it.”

“Oh. Makes sense,” Taylor says, shoulders still tense. “What sorts of things did you do there anyway?”

“They took us to a bowling alley,” I give Taylor a look. “I hate bowling, and the boys hogged the arcade so I couldn’t even waste time on pac-man. I spent the whole time gossiping with a couple of other girls in the corner. I don’t think that’s how we want today to go.”

“No, it’s not,” she frowns, reaching up to fiddle with a lock of hair. “You don’t talk about your past much.”

“I don’t like my past much,” I say, and the awkward silence returns. Seconds pass, and I elaborate with a sigh. “I was rich, with parents who were absent at best. I got middling grades in school, more because I didn’t bother to apply myself than because I wasn’t smart. I was part of one of the popular clic’s, but as one of the ‘third friends’, if you know what that is.”

“The ones who only get invited to group activities?” Taylor guesses, and I nod in confirmation.

“Didn’t bother me, really. I liked fading into the background. Floating through life,” I say, turning away to stare at the walk sign across the street, willing it to turn green.

“That... doesn’t sound like you,” Taylor says.

“Triggers change us.” My voice is quiet, and the conversation dies completely. She reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. I squeeze her back, the motion far more comforting than I thought it would be.

We pass the rest of the trip to the coffee shop in silence, hands clasped together in silent solidarity. Once in the shop, we place our orders and stand silently off to the side. I flip through the conversation topics list again, only to be distracted by some juicy drama happening in the corner of the shop.

“Hey, Taylor,” I nudge her with my elbow, and she follows my gaze to a trio of bickering teens. They’re set around the circular table in a triangle, with the blonde girl sitting closer to her boyfriend, and the brunette sinking into her seat across from them. “Recognize them?”

“Fuck,” Taylor hisses, getting the completely wrong message.

“They won’t recognize us,” I reassure her. “Besides, we’re not sticking around. Just that they’re having a long argument right now. Glory Hole is upset at her boyfriend, who’s trying – and failing – to help her sister, who desperately wants to vanish into a hole and never be seen again.”

Taylor’s face scrunches up. “So?”

“So, it’s kinda funny?” I falter slightly.

“Okay,” Taylor says dubiously.

“Fine,” I roll my eyes, stepping up to grab our cups before the barista can finish calling our names. I almost drop the one in my left hand when my fingers don’t close fast enough. “No New Wave gossip for you. Let’s go window shopping.”

Taylor takes her coffee from me as we turn to leave. She shoots a glance at the heroic trio as we step out of the shop. A hint of guilt briefly flashes across her face before she looks away. Probably remembering the bank.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take much work to take her mind off things. We start with looking at clothes, and then I drag her into an astrology shop. Crystals, books on ‘alternative medicine’, and decks of tarot cards fill the tables and shelves. Taylor glances at everything skeptically, and gives me a flat look when I snatch up an insect themed tarot deck.

“Really?” She asks as I pass a handful of dollar coins to the cashier.

“Come on, it’s cute,” I smile innocently. She shakes her head, and follows me out of the store with a sigh.

I make it up to her by getting her a book at the next store we go to, and then a necklace with a spider on it in the next one.

“Isn’t this too... obvious?” Taylor asks, face beet red as I awkwardly clip the necklace around her neck. The brace makes it harder than I expected, especially reaching around her from the front like this. Taylor reaches back with a hand to steady one side of it, her touch sending goosebumps across my skin.

“Nobody is going to think a teenager with a spider necklace is a supervillain,” I whisper, suddenly aware of just how close we are. Her pupils are dilated, and her breath is warm on my lips. It would be so easy for her to lean in and kiss me. To close that distance. Her eyes flick to my lips. She doesn’t make a move.

I pull back, letting my fingers linger on her neck for just a moment. She absently touches the jewelry with a faint look of... something complicated. Disappointment doesn’t feel right, but neither does happiness. Contentment? All of the above?

I snatch her hand, and drag her outside again. We’ve already gone to most of the interesting places on the Boardwalk, so I take us down to the beach front. Even staying off the sand, it’s a pretty nice view. Tourist season is beginning, and the beach is packed with out of towners. I spot a half dozen pickpockets flitting through the crowd, several of them familiar to me from when I was on the streets in that same position.

“Let’s go this way,” Taylor says, abruptly tugging me down the pier. I’m about to ask where we’re going, when the sound of music wafts over the press of the crowds.

It’s a local cover band, playing one of Bad Canary’s older songs, but in a more traditional folk style than the pop star’s pop-rock. It actually sounds pretty nice, and we settle in close enough to watch the performers, leaning up against the railing with the bay behind us.

Taylor fidgets for a moment, before carefully wrapping her left arm around my shoulders. I close my eyes, sighing softly as I lean against her. My right arm snakes around her back, resting on her far waist. She’s nice and warm against the cool sea breeze. The band transitions to another song, and Taylor grows more relaxed.

It’s nice, honestly; really nice.

Naturally, that’s when we notice a pair of nazis giving us the stink eye. They’re dressed more subtly than the average skinhead around here, but it was pretty obvious given the glares of disapproval, and the tattoo of Thor’s hammer on one of their arms – more subtle than an actual rune or gang sign, but still broadcasting their affiliation.

I try to ignore them, right up until I see them whispering to each other. Taylor’s muscles tense as she catches sight of them, and she slowly removes her arm from around me. I’m shocked that I feel the absence, and my rage towards the Empire builds.

“What do you think about lunch?” I ask, nudging Taylor away from the crowd.

“I could eat,” she says, voice clipped with annoyance and a hint of fear.

As expected, the group trails after us. Three of them all and all. I slip my hand into my purse and find my taser. I flick my eyes to the side, searching for an alley to force the confrontation. “Know anywhere that’s nice and quiet? I think I’ve had enough of the crowds. Your call.”

She gets my message, nodding slowly and slipping a hand down onto the pocket of her hoodie jacket. Did she really hook her extendable baton inside the jacket? Of course she did. She’s paranoid to a fault, and twice as violent.

I knew I liked her for a reason.

We slip down a long alley, pausing to check our phones and act like we didn’t suspect a thing. “Five seconds,” Taylor murmurs, and I put away my phone and pull out the pepper spray.

“Well, look what we have-” The lead thug starts, before he’s interrupted with a stream of pepper spray.

His buddies flinch back, completely blindsided by the attack. Taylor steps forward, flicking her baton out in a single motion and cracking one of them across the side of the head.

“Fucking shit,” the third one shouts, fumbling a knife out of his pocket. Taylor smacks his wrist with her weapon, and something cracks. He lets out a very shrill scream, and collapses to his knees, clutching his arm.

I step in and kick the man I pepper sprayed in the nuts, and he falls down with a gurgle of pain. Taylor paces back and forth, eyes flickering across the downed trio threateningly. I bend down and fish out their phone, noting the wasps floating around the area. One of the men also has a gun, which I happily take and put in my purse. Taylor gives me a look when I do, but chooses not to remark.

“Someone probably heard that,” I say as I empty their wallets for good measure. Relieving nazis of their money is practically a public service, and probably the most heroic action I’ve ever done. Maybe Taylor’s being a good influence on me?

One of the nazis cries out in pain as Taylor gives him a swift kick. “Don’t,” she warns, voice low and menacing.

I shiver, absently wetting my lips as I flip through their phones, absorbing information about who they know and where they frequent. Only one of them is an actual member of the gang, but they’re all sympathizers.

“Enforcers on the way,” Taylor says, and I give her a nod.

“Let’s go.” I toss the phones in the garbage bin on our way out of the alley, and we slip into the docks without being bothered by anyone else.

Taylor’s quiet on the way back home. Withdrawn, more so than usual.

“Sorry about that,” she says at least. “I should have been paying more attention. Didn’t mean to ruin the date.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, pulling out my phone and sending Rachel a text. “Besides, nothing’s been ruined.”

She looks at me, tilting her head in that birdlike way of hers. “We had to cut the day short.”

“Yes, but now we have an activity for tonight,” I grin at her sharply. “We’ll grab Rachel – and the boys, if they want – and go raid a nazi bar. Beat them up, take their stuff, and maybe leave the door to their illicit drug operations open on our way out.”

Taylor’s eyes widen slightly. “You got that from his phone?’

“Yup,” I pop the ‘p’ loudly. “They interrupted our date, so it’s only fair that we interrupt their profit line.”

Taylor smiles, and I pull her into a side hug.

“Besides,” I continue. “I had a lot of fun today. We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Taylor says, returning the hug. “We should. This was nice.”

It was nice. Coffee, shopping, music, and I even got to watch her beat someone up for me. Maybe I should be worried about how thrilled I am to see her violently defending me, but it’s honestly just so comforting. The fact that I can always trust her to help me out like that means a lot to me.

A girl can get used to having someone like Taylor around.

*****

“Taylor, wait,” I chase after her, anger and fear boiling in my gut as I push past the door to her bedroom. Coil showed off his ‘pet’ today, and Taylor wasn’t pleased with that. Nor was she pleased with our collective lack of a reaction.

As if us not charging headfirst into his heavily armed base on a suicide run means we don’t care.

“Why?” Taylor whirls around, hurt and frustrating writ across her face. “So you can convince me that it’s fine? That because we’re villains, you’re perfectly fine with drugging up a preteen-”

I slap her across the face before I even know what I’m doing. I can feel the tears leaking under my domino mask, bleeding through the face-paint and leaving dark trails down my cheeks.

“Don’t,” I say, voice wavering. Taylor doesn’t move. “You know me, Taylor. I’m not a good person – none of us are, but do you really think this is something we would have put up with if we knew?”

I didn’t know. I could have, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to.

“None of you did anything,” Taylor says, sounding small.

“Of course we fucking didn’t,” I hiss back. “He has a fucking army at his back, and twice as many capes as we do. We literally just learned about this, and you want us to turn our backs on the most powerful person in the Bay? He knows our identities. He knows where we live. Taylor, he put a little girl in his basement so he could use her Thinker power. What the fuck do you think happens to me if I try to leave?” I scream, my voice cracking.

Taylor’s eyes are wide with shock. She’s hurt, confused, and more than a little panicked. “I didn’t think-”

“Of course you didn’t!” I yell, hiccuping with anger. “You just acted! You got offended, and then were going to leave me! Why, Taylor? Do I really mean that little to you?”

“Lisa-”

“Just fucking go,” I shout, spinning on my heel and slamming to door to her room shut behind me. The rest of the Undersiders are in the loft, having showed up sometime after I did. None of them speak. I rub away my tears and slam the door to my room.

I collapse onto my bed like a teenage girl after a breakup, clutching a pillow to my chest and sobbing. It’s only been a couple weeks since we started dating. It shouldn’t be hitting me this hard. I don’t even like her that way.

Right?

It doesn’t make any sense. Romance is stupid. Love is stupid. Fucking friendship is stupid.

“- give her some space,” Brian’s voice echoes through the loft. “Maybe take a day to sort out your thoughts and talk to her again.”

“Okay,” Taylor’s voice wafts over. “Sorry, by the way.”

“It’s fine. It’s fucked up, just. Yeah. You’re still a member of the team, assuming you want it.”

“Thanks.” The door out of the loft slams shut, and a moment later so too does the door to Brian’s room.

Taylor’s the stupidest one of all, of course. Stupid girl. Stupid friend.

I wish she’d come to comfort me instead of leaving.

Eventually, my tears dry up, and I’m left with nothing but my thoughts and insecurities. I’m supposed to be good at this sort of thing. I’m supposed to be the social manipulator. I can do it with everyone else, so why is it so hard for me to do it to Taylor?

Eventually, I pull myself up, turning to look at the clock, blinking away the heaviness of my emotions. It’s only been twenty minutes since she left. I grab my phone, staring at her number and wanting to call, or text, or something.

Am I really that desperate? The phone lands on my bedside table with a clunk, and I curl up in bed again. I’ll figure it out later.

It takes barely a minute before I give in and grab the phone again, repeating the whole process and getting no closer to a solution. Not even a minute after, it happens again, and again. Over and over, without anything changing.

Then the Endbringer sirens start screaming, and my heart drops into my stomach.

*****

Taylor came to the Endbringer fight. Of fucking course she did. The self-sacrificing idiot wouldn’t be able to stay away from something like this. Not that the rest of us are much better, but I’m still mad at her.

A little bit, anyway.

Okay so maybe my anger feels stupid and small in the face of impending death by Endbringer. The rain pounds down on the gathering capes, locals and out-of-towners alike grouping up in preparation for what’s to come. I break away from my team and meet Taylor halfway. We both stop, awkwardly within arms reach, yet too afraid to reach out.

“I’m sorry,” we both say at once.

I smile weakly, and gesture for her to go on. “You’re right, I was being stupid. I blamed myself for her being captured, and took it out on you,” her voice wavers slightly through the rain. I can feel the rest of our team watching us, along with a handful of other random capes in the area.

“I shouldn’t have blown up at you,” I say, grabbing my left arm as pain flares through it. It’s always worse on rainy days. “I’m just afraid. Lost, frustrated, and a bunch of other things. I shouldn’t have blamed you for it, I was just… yeah.”

“Yeah.”

I hold out my arms, and after a second, steps into my embrace to return the hug. I let out a shuddering breath as we hold each other. We might not make it out of this alive. I’m still hurt by what she said, and I can tell she’s hurt in turn, but right now none of it matters. I still love her, and she still loves me. Maybe that ‘love’ doesn’t look exactly the same for each of us, but that doesn’t make it less real.

I can feel the eyes of the other capes on us. Some of them turn away politely, and others stare for an uncomfortably long amount of time. It doesn’t matter, really. It’s an Endbringer fight. They get it.

“Taylor, I’m going to lift up your mask,” I say, slipping my fingers under the seam on her neck. She goes completely still, but makes no move to stop me. Slowly and deliberately, I roll up the fabric, until her mouth is exposed. I lean in, and press my lips to hers.

She’s still using green apple chapstick. It’s not bad.

I pull back, lowering her mask as I smile softly. “We’ll talk more after this, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods, slightly out of it.

I grab her hand and slowly drag her back towards the rest of the team. Regent makes a cat call, Grue cuffs him on the shoulder, and Bitch frowns at the byplay. Taylor visibly relaxes when they welcome her back. It's one thing to be told there were no hard feelings about her freakout, and another to actually see them follow through.

“Thank you all for gathering...” Legend’s voice echoes across the crowd. We all turn to give him our attention as he starts to give a motivational speech.

I squeeze Taylor’s hand in mine, and for once, the tight squirming in my stomach doesn’t feel quite as bad as it used to.

I think I’m getting used to this.

Hopefully we’re both alive tomorrow to keep trying.

*****

A heavy, rhythmic thud echoes through the warehouse we’ve chosen to hole up in. The loft was unsalvageable, so the four of us are hunkering down here while we wait for the dust to settle. Alec has a generator and his television, Rachel consolidated all her dogs in the building next door, and Brian spent an afternoon dragging over a bunch of work out equipment from a busted up gym down the block.

Taylor’s not here, because that bastard Armsmaster tried to frame her for breaking the truce. She didn’t, obviously, but without my interjections, people would assume she did because of her history of extreme violence in my defense. My feelings on that are still a mess, but more and more I’m coming to terms with the fact that I like it when she hurts people for my sake.

Unfortunately, when that gambit didn’t work, the petty jerk revealed Taylor’s ‘plan’ to betray the Undersiders. The rest of the team didn’t take that well, and the fact that she ran instead of trying to explain herself only made the situation worse.

Fuck, I miss her so much.

I close my laptop when the router I’m using to leech internet off one of the few surviving cell towers fails again. I can try later. I stand up, stretching slightly and ignoring the burn in my left arm. I’ll have to take another dose of painkillers at some point today, even if I’d rather not. For now, I have something more important to take care of.

I wander around a pile of crates, heading towards the source of the thumping. Brian’s going to town on a sandbag he hung up. His hands are wrapped, but he’s going hard enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruised and battered anyway.

“Hey,” I say, leaning up against the wall of crates. He stops, turning to face me with a hard expression on his face. I give him a quick once over, snatching a few insights as I do so. “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” his voice is clipped as he tells me a bald faced lie.

I roll my eyes. “Sure. Me too. Totally fine.”

“What do you want, Lise?” He’s tired, the frustration in his voice burdened by exhaustion, both emotional and physical.

“I want Taylor back on the team.” No point in beating around the bush.

His expression darkens. “She was going to turn us in. We can’t trust her.”

“She wasn’t, and we can,” I say, narrowing my eyes just a smidge. “You know that as well as I do. When she made that plan, she was lonely and desperate. The second she made a strong connection to us, she gave it up.”

“You mean the second you started sleeping with her?” he bites back.

“Fuck you,” I snap, taking a long breath to recenter myself. “I’m talking about when she befriended us. Meeting you in the early morning on her runs, taking care of the dogs with Rachel. Hell, even sitting there and watching Alec heckle twelve year olds on Medal of Duty.

“She’s our friend, Brian,” I trail off, biting my lip before deciding that maybe he deserves a bit more. “I didn’t plan on dating her, it just happened. But Brian, do you really think I’m stupid enough to start a relationship with someone who wants to betray me? Do you really think I’d put the whole team in danger on a blind gamble, or can you trust that I knew what I was doing?”

It was a gamble, actually, but it wasn’t blind. I calculated the odds, and took a chance. That chance paid off, at least until someone fucked things up.

“Because you’re never wrong,” Brian rolls his eyes, and my eyebrow twitches.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I not good enough for you?” My voice hardens. “I guess you don’t want me to give you on the fly details about power interactions, or you’d rather go in blind rather than have me spend hours researching our mark. Maybe you’d prefer if I left the team? Went out and became a hero with Taylor?”

“You wouldn’t,” he almost growls, fists clenching at his side.

I glare at him for a moment longer, before slumping in defeat. “Yeah, I wouldn’t. You’re my friend, Bri. I want Taylor back, but I’m not going to choose her over you.”

That throws him for a loop. He stares at me, and I meet his gaze. Neither of us blinks as he takes my measure.

“You really trust her?” he asks, some of his previous edge dulling by whatever it is he sees in me.

“You don’t?” I counter, raising an eyebrow. “You’re her friend too, Bri. She likes you, trusts you. When she needed help getting ready for her date, she went to you.”

“She asked me for advice,” he says quietly, and it’s my turn to be thrown off my game. “She admitted that she had a bit of a crush on you, and wasn’t sure what to do. I told her to just talk to you about it. I think she asked Rachel first, and wanted a second opinion.”

“That explains some things.” I shake my head, smiling softly. “She kissed me before she told me about her crush. I think she followed Rachel’s advice more so than yours.”

That gets a snort out of him. “That sounds like her. Like both of them for that matter. I still can’t wrap my head around how they get along so well.”

“They’re both blunt, straightforward people.” I look up at the ceiling, the smile still tugging at my lips. “On that note, do you really think Taylor could fake her emotions that well? I know she emotes oddly, but she’s not a robot. She wears her heart on her sleeve, if you know what to look for.”

“Yeah,” Brian sighs deeply. “You’re right. If she was still going to betray us, why would she have run?”

“Of course I am,” I grin sharply. “Now, when I bring her back, are you going to pitch a fit?”

“When?” I cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve already contacted her?”

“Not yet,” I admit with a shrug. “It’s hard to find people right now, you know that. Still, it’s only a matter of time, and I know I can get her to come back with me.”

“Yeah, alright.” He turns back to the sandbag and raises his fists to resume his training. “I at least owe her a chance to explain herself.”

“Thanks, Brian.” My voice comes out softer than I intended.

“She’s my friend too,” he says, and slams his fist into the bag again.

The rhythmic thumping resumes as I walk towards my seat by the generator. Alec’s still playing his game, and Aisha’s sitting on the ground next to him eating from a bag of M&Ms. Right, Aisha is here, I forgot about her again. Something else to get used to, I guess.

I pull open my laptop, connecting to the internet and checking my inbox again. My eyes widen, and with only a light tremble, I click the message.

> Dandelion N. They just unveiled a monument for the fallen. Meet you there tomorrow? At Noon?

I type up my response as quickly as I can with only one hand.

> I’ll be there. I miss you.

I almost didn’t send that last part, but it’s important. I need her to know how I feel. When the response arrives barely a minute later, I know I made the right choice.

> I miss you too.

*****

The clouds are finally clearing up, and it’s only been about a week since the fight ended. The city is slowly recovering, and people are slowly finding their footing. I glance around the park, confirming that there’s no trap or ambush. I didn’t expect one, but I have to check. I know Taylor did the same when she got here.

I walk casually down the path, and sit down on the bench next to her. Neither of us speaks as we look at the recently erected monument to the fallen. A couple minutes pass like this, sitting in silent remembrance. I’m afraid to make the first move, but I know one of us has to. Finally, Taylor turns to look at me, and the bags under her eyes make my heart clench painfully.

She looks so tired.

“How are you holding up?” I ask, keeping my voice low. We haven’t talked since the emails we exchanged to set up this meeting. I didn’t want to say anything important over the internet, not with Dragon in town to help with the reconstruction. That, and she deserves to hear everything in person.

“Fine,” she says in a way that makes it clear just how not fine she is. “You?”

“I feel like shit,” I say, and she turns to look at me. “Panacea wouldn’t fix my arm, since it ‘didn’t happen during the Endbringer fight’, and none of the other healers wanted to waste their energy after I’d already been looked at. Selfish fuckers.”

Taylor’s expression darkens. “Fuck them,” she says, turning back towards the monument. “Some heroes they all turned out to be.”

I reach out and grab her hand, giving her a light squeeze. She squeezes back, her fingers wrapping around mine. A warm wave of relief trickles through me at the motion.

“We don’t blame you,” I say, and she goes rigid with tension again. “The others were upset, but they know you’re loyal. Might need a bit to get over it entirely, but they don’t hate you.”

Taylor doesn’t speak for a minute. I look out across the park, taking in all the people who are here to pay their respects. I recognize several people as unmasked capes, and avert my gaze before I take in too many of their facial features.

“Did you know?” She asks softly.

“Yeah,” my voice cracks.

“How long?” Her tone is steady and even, despite the emotions lurking just below the surface. 

“Since the beginning. You didn’t correct us about being a villain, and I decided to run with it. I didn’t expect it to get as far as it did,” I confess. She doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Was it all fake?” Her voice finally wavers, and I turn to face her fully.

“No,” I state simply. “We really did become best friends. I wouldn’t fake that even if I could. I didn’t agree to date you because I was trying to manipulate you, I did it because you’re my best friend, and I wanted to try. I’m not…”

I take a deep breath.

“I’m not the type of person who dates casually, Taylor. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but if it was literally anyone else, I would have turned them down. Romance is hard for me. Intimacy is hard. You’re worth trying anyway.”

Brown eyes dig deep into my soul, and I do my best to lay it bare before her. My hand sweats in hers, and my heart pounds against my ribs. I swallow thickly, throat suddenly dry.

“Okay,” she finally says. “Thank you.”

Then, as if unsure of herself, she leans in and plants an awkward kiss on my cheek. I smile at her, and kiss her on the cheek in response. The way she blushes is a bit adorable, especially since she otherwise doesn’t react or emote.

“Ready to come home?” Hope bleeds into my tone. “We can talk more about Coil later, but I have some plans, if you want to hear them?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” She nods resolutely as I pull her up from the bench, and we walk hand in hand towards the warehouse we’re currently squatting in.

As we walk down the street, I reflect on the fact that we’re still holding hands, despite the anxious sweat and awkwardness of walking hand in hand through the debris littering the sidewalk.

Is this what love is? Holding hands even when it’s gross?

Cause if so, I’ve definitely gotten used to it.