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Confrontation (Worm fanfic)

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Taylor's encounter against Lung doesn't go very well at all. She wakes up in hospital, and...
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Ack

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Taylor's encounter against Lung doesn't go very well at all. She wakes up in hospital, and Armsmaster has some questions.

Disclaimers:
1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it.
2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, then I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations.
3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.


Index
Part One: Introduction (below)
Part Two: Discussing Options
Part Three: Costume Discussions
Part Four: Joining the Wards
Part Five: Meet and Greet
Part Six: The Shadow and the Bug
Part Seven: With Friends Like These
Part Eight: Best of Enemies

Omake: Aegis' Thoughts

Sequel
 
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Part One: Introduction
Confrontation

Part One: Introduction


My universe was pain.

I lay on the gravel rooftop, trying to breathe without hurting myself. It wasn't going well. Each time I inhaled, the air was far too hot and stank of burning hair, and there was a stabbing pain that stopped me getting quite enough air into my lungs.

I was fairly sure I had broken bones; my costume had protected me from being eviscerated by Lung's claw-swipe, but it had done little to nothing about the sheer force of the blow. I'd been lucky not to have gone over the edge.

This was such a fucking stupid idea.

At least my costume hadn't caught fire when his flame had washed over me. I hadn't escaped unscathed; I had felt my hair catch fire, had suffered as it burned the back of my head. There was more pain in my buttocks, down my legs, but I wasn't sure if that was due to bruises, broken bones, or burns.

I couldn't figure out why Lung hadn't finished me off; I was certainly not going to get away now. All he had to do was step on me, and he'd probably crush me like a cockroach. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The world went away for a little bit; I sank down into warm, soft, pink nothingness, where there was no pain, no giant metal-clad fire-breathing monsters about to kill me. I was fairly sure that I would not wake up again.

<><>​

" … e even alive?"

The voice was hollow, reverberating, masculine. I wasn't alone on the rooftop, and it wasn't Lung there with me. I tried to move, tried to call for help. I might have twitched slightly; my left arm and leg were not responding appropriately. Also, moving hurt. Like an ironclad son of a bitch. My groan wasn't much better.

My head was turned to one side; one of my goggle lenses was smashed – when did that happen? - but I could see a pair of feet in front of me. More figures, at the edge of the roof. Farther off, in some other reality, I could vaguely hear snarls and growls and roars. Lung's fighting something, I decided, and congratulated myself on my deductive ability.

The owner of the feet crouched; I saw pale hair framing a black domino mask.

"He's a she," a feminine voice answered, her voice raised. A girl, maybe my age. "She's hurt bad. Lung nearly killed her."

"Help," I tried to whisper. A whimper came out.

She leaned closer. "I can't help you," she whispered, "but I'll call help for you. You did us a huge favour. It's the least I can do in return."

Her hand touched my mask, lay gently on the mandible over my jaw where I wasn't bruised, wasn't burned. "Hang tight, bug girl. Help is on the way."

The world chose that moment to pull a sharp Immelmann and dive into the clouds. My eyes closed.

<><>​

Metal rattling on concrete woke me again. I was still lying on the rooftop, still in pain. Still couldn't move. Breathing was a little harder.

I'm dying. I'll die here. The revelation came as not much of a shock. I'd been expecting to die ever since Lung got that hit in on me, the one that broke my bones like so many cheese sticks.

I'm sorry, Dad. I wanted to be a superhero. I wanted to be a good daughter.

Heavy boots crunching over the gravel. A masculine voice. Not the same as the other voice. " - the hell leaves a note on a supervillain's face?"

A pause. "Holy Christ." The footsteps moved fast, getting louder. Heading toward me. Stopping next to me. I blinked my eyes, couldn't focus. A pause, then something was pressed to my neck. I heard soft electronic beeping.

"Okay, kid, you're alive." The voice was full of relief. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm Armsmaster. I'm going to get you out of this. Okay?"

I may have made a sound, a movement; I wasn't sure. Maybe he was just talking for the sake of talking. "Good. Right. Now just hang tight for a second, and I'll get you down from here."

Why is everyone telling me to hang tight?

He moved away from me. Leaving me. His voice was still audible. "Armsmaster here. Send a containment van to my GPS location, ASAP. Lung is unconscious, tranquillised, caged. He should keep till you get here. I've got someone else to bring in. Armsmaster, out."

Armsmaster's a hero. He's not going to leave me to die, right?

Right?


I faded away for a bit.

<><>​

When I came to, I was strapped to something and moving. I was on my stomach; something was pillowed around my face so that nothing obstructed my breathing, and I didn't bump my nose. Something clicked into place, and I stopped moving.

Armsmaster held the electronic device to my neck; it beeped at him. "Vitals are down," he muttered. "Gotta move. Hang in there, guy."

Guy? I wanted to protest. Admittedly, I wasn't very well developed, but that was almost insulting. But before I could formulate my words farther, the engine bellowed, and I started moving again.

Engine?

Oh, his motorcycle.


I was strapped to Armsmaster's motorcycle.

We started going somewhere really fast, but after the first turn, I lost interest and passed out again.

<><>​

" … and that should do it."

The voice was light, feminine. It sounded very slightly familiar. Teenage girl, voice I've heard somewhere before. Celebrity?

I inhaled, cautiously. There was no stab of pain. The air smelled of hospital.

Which is a thousand percent better than gravel rooftop, and burning hair.

My eyelids fluttered open.

I was lying in a hospital bed, with my legs and arms suspended in the air by straps. A light cast covered my left arm, and another covered my chest. Bandages swathed my legs and right upper arm.

Beside the bed stood a doctor, a nurse, a tall armoured figure, and a shorter figure in white robes, with something red on the front.

The doctor stepped forward, his face splitting in a smile. I could pick that much up, anyway.

"Good morning, miss," he greeted me warmly. "I'm Doctor Anderson. You had us all worried for a while there."

I blinked at him, then realised that I wasn't looking through my goggles. My mask was off.

They can see my face.

I tried to turn my head away instinctively, but it wouldn't move. Tried to bring my hand up to shield my face, but the straps wouldn't allow it. "Face," I tried to enunciate. "Mask."

"What's she saying?" asked the armoured figure … blue and silver, that had to Armsmaster.

"Hold still," Anderson told me. "You're in a cervical collar. You had a minor fracture of … let's just say, we didn't want you moving your head around before Panacea could get a look at you." He held up what I recognised as a squeeze bottle filled with water, with a nozzle. I opened my mouth obediently, and he squirted some water into my mouth. I swallowed; it barely made it into my throat. I opened my mouth again.

After the second and third squirt of water, I was feeling a bit better. And now I could talk.

"You unmasked me," I told them. "Showed my face to everyone."

"It was kind of necessary to take your mask off," Anderson informed me. "You had third degree burns on the back of your head."

Which was why some sort of cradle was supporting my head in the air, I guessed. I was still trying to think of a way to complain about being unmasked while still being grateful about having my life saved when Anderson raised a finger. "But we didn't out you. We keep a stock of domino masks around, for cases like yours. You're wearing one, right now. And this is a restricted ward."

"Oh." Now that he mentioned it, I could feel something on my face. I felt a little silly, after the fact. But then I remembered something else. "My hair."

"Most of it's gone, I'm afraid," Anderson confirmed. "We had to cut it back so that we could treat your burns properly." And I would have none at all on the back of my head, of course.

"I … uh, thanks," I told him. "And you two, too. Thank you." I swivelled my eyes toward Panacea and Armsmaster. "For saving my life. For healing me. I … thought I was going to die."

Armsmaster nodded his helmeted head. "You very nearly did," he agreed. "And we're going to have to talk about that, later."

I looked at Panacea again. She nodded to me. "You're welcome," she told me in a soft, shy voice. "You're very lucky to be alive. Not many people can go toe to toe against Lung, and walk away."

"I didn't mean to," I told her. "I was trying to stay back, out of the way. He's got super-hearing or something, when he gets big."

Armsmaster tilted his head at that. "You're sure of that?"

I tried to nod, failed. "Absolutely."

He smiled tightly. "That's useful to know. So, are you ready to come out of those bandages?"

"Yes, please."

<><>​

They'd had cloths draped over me for modesty while Armsmaster was in the room. Once he stepped out, the nurse began removing the casts and bandages, while Anderson and Panacea observed. It took a little while; if I needed any convincing that I'd been badly hurt, that would have done the job.

Once the cervical collar came off, I shook my head carefully, then felt the back of my skull. Bare, smooth skin. I turned to Panacea. "Will my hair grow back?"

She nodded. "Of course. There won't be any scar tissue. I can grow your hair back for you, if you want. Any length necessary."

I blinked. "You can do that?"

She ducked her head slightly. "Uh, yes. I don't offer it as a service to everyone, but … well, it's that or a wig, right?"

"Yeah, and my Dad would pick up on a wig straight away," I told her without thinking.

She looked curiously at me. "Your parents don't know?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Not yet."

Doctor Anderson was holding out something to me. "Uh, miss, I believe this is yours."

I took it; it was my mask. Looking closely, it seemed to be scorched but intact, except for the shattered lens. Around the opening in the back, where my hair was to flow free, there were a few stains.

"We washed it," he told me, "but melted hair is fairly hard to get out. What's it made of? I've never seen material like that before."

I grimaced slightly at the 'melted hair' comment. "Spider silk. Black widow dragline silk, to be exact."

"Wow," Panacea commented. "Can I see?"

I handed it to her; she felt it over. "It's so smooth, so flexible. Is it very tough?"

Anderson coughed. "I'd say so. We tried to cut her out of her costume. We couldn't, even with shears. Fortunately, it wasn't that hard to find the zip. Which was when we actually discovered you were a girl for the first time, by the way, young lady." His tone was amused.

I flushed slightly. "It's not my fault," I muttered.

"And nor is it," he agreed warmly. "Well now, Armsmaster wants to talk to you; do you feel up to it? Would you like us to contact your parents, or a legal representative?"

I thought about that. Contacting Dad would out me, if I hadn't already been outed. But the other … "Legal representative? Am I going to need one of those?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I was just throwing things out there."

"I can stick around, if you want," Panacea offered. "If it looks like you need one, I can call my mom. She's a lawyer."

Of course, I realised, as my brain caught up. Panacea, New Wave, Brandish, Carol Dallon. Lawyer.

"Uh, thanks," I told her. "That would be great."

She smiled, just a little. "That's okay. I'm happy to do it."

"Well, then," Doctor Anderson told me heartily, "let's get you some clothes."

<><>​

"So, are you a hero or a villain?" asked Armsmaster directly. I was still in the hospital bed, this time wearing soft pyjamas, with the domino mask completing my ensemble. The bed was adjusted so that I was more sitting up than lying down. Panacea sat nearby; she had assured me that any feeling of weakness was entirely psychosomatic, but I felt weak all the same.

A rolling tray table held scrambled eggs and a small bottle of juice; I sipped at the juice as I considered my answer.

"I'm a hero," I told him. "A good guy."

He tilted his head slightly. "You'll excuse me if I tell you that I saw you in your costume. You didn't look like a good guy."

That stung, especially coming from him. It was like Michael Jordan saying you sucked at basketball. "That's… not intentional," I responded, not a little defensively. "I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realised it was already looking more edgy than I'd intended, and I couldn't do anything about it by then."

There was a long pause. I turned my eyes from that opaque visor, toward Panacea, who gave me an encouraging nod. I glanced back at him, at his chest emblem, a silhouette of his visor in blue against a silver background, and was struck with the ridiculous thought that I had once owned a pair of underpants with his emblem on the front. Who puts a male hero's emblem on girls' underwear, anyway?

"You're telling the truth," he observed. It was a definitive statement, which startled me. I wanted to ask how he knew, but I wasn't about to do or say anything that might change his mind.

"Uh, yes," I agreed. "I really am."

"You're new," he went on, as though I hadn't spoken. "I haven't seen you around, heard of you. What are your powers?"

"I … powers?" I repeated. "You didn't know?"

He shook his head. "You do have powers, correct?"

I nodded. "I … yes. I control bugs."

"Bugs," he repeated. "As in, insects."

"And spiders," I added. "Arachnids of all kinds. Earthworms too, for some reason. Apparently anything relatively small, with a tiny brain."

"So what part did you play in Lung's takedown, with bugs?" he asked.

I blinked. "I, uh, you don't know?" I was getting a bad feeling, but I wasn't sure why.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you," he pressed relentlessly.

"I, uh, he was talking about killing kids. So I had my swarm attack him. Drove his men off, then I had them bite him in, uh, sensitive places. Black widows, brown recluses, fire ants, browntail moths, honeybees, wasps, hornets … basically, everything I could throw at him."

I took a breath, and a drink of juice. "And then he went on fire, and it stopped working. So I went to leave. And he heard me. And jumped up on the roof. And hit me, and breathed fire all over me. And then … something happened. Someone arrived. Something big took on Lung. There was a guy with a funny voice, and a girl with blonde hair. Then you were there. And that's all I remember."

I stopped. Doctor Anderson tilted his head curiously. "Armsmaster, just a question; how did you ensure Lung wasn't going to be a danger when you brought him in? Because I didn't see any restraints past the most basic ones."

Armsmaster turned to look at him. "I have extra-strength tranquillisers, authorised for use on Brutes. Why?"

"Because Brute-rating tranquillisers of that strength could easily interact with the types of venoms she just mentioned. There could be an adverse reaction."

"Adverse reaction?" I asked. My bad feeling was really jumping up and down now.

At that moment, the PA system blared to life. "Code blue. Repeat, code blue. Cleared personnel to room four-five-three. Crash cart to room four-five-three. Code blue. Repeat, code blue."

Panacea's eyes got very wide under her hood, and she leaped to her feet. "Gotta go," she told us.

Armsmaster was also on his feet. "That's the room they've got Lung in," he snapped. He pointed at me. "Stay. There."

Anderson didn't even bother saying anything. He just darted out the door behind Armsmaster.

And then I was all alone.


End of Part One

Part Two
 
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I like this Ack... I really do.
 
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Interesting. Looking forward to seeing where this goes, presuming it's continued.

Thank you for the chapter, Ack.
 
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A question that's been rattling around in my head the last couple days: is it your intention to have most of the stories in QQ's Creative Writing forum?

Because that's what it looks like you're trying to do. :D
 
........ANOTHER FIC?????

*facepalm*

Damnit Ack, do you have a random plot generator that you click a half dozen times and then suddenly a lightbulb "OH! I have an awesome idea for a really fucking fantastic fic!" ?
 
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I like this Ack... I really do.
Thank you, so do I.

Interesting. Looking forward to seeing where this goes, presuming it's continued.

Thank you for the chapter, Ack.
Oh, I'll be continuing it.

A question that's been rattling around in my head the last couple days: is it your intention to have most of the stories in QQ's Creative Writing forum?

Because that's what it looks like you're trying to do. :D
And is this a bad ambition?

Well, to be honest, it's the other way around. I have stories to tell, and QQ is the place where I can put both the SFW and NSFW ones.

........ANOTHER FIC?????

*facepalm*

Damnit Ack, do you have a random plot generator that you click a half dozen times and then suddenly a lightbulb "OH! I have an awesome idea for a really fucking fantastic fic!" ?

>click< >click< >click< >click< .>click< >click< "OH! I have an awesome idea for a really fucking fantastic fic!"

Just kidding. Mostly.

Well, actually, this is based on an idea that I had a while ago, and I finally managed to make it gel.

We'll see how it works out.
 
And is this a bad ambition?

Well, to be honest, it's the other way around. I have stories to tell, and QQ is the place where I can put both the SFW and NSFW ones.

Not bad in the slightest. Mostly entertaining.


>click< >click< >click< >click< .>click< >click< "OH! I have an awesome idea for a really fucking fantastic fic!"

I cannot help but imagine 'popomatic trouble' dice here.
 
I like it so far, quite interested in seeing where it goes. I like the slightly paranoid and worried vibe Taylor is giving off, while sill trying to be polite.

Panacea seemed fairly normal, not many fics have her pre bank heist, so we only see her after the real meltdown has started. Eagerly awaiting more of this one. Is this likely to be added to your update vote index?
 
I like it so far, quite interested in seeing where it goes. I like the slightly paranoid and worried vibe Taylor is giving off, while sill trying to be polite.

Panacea seemed fairly normal, not many fics have her pre bank heist, so we only see her after the real meltdown has started. Eagerly awaiting more of this one. Is this likely to be added to your update vote index?
Strongly considering it. Some of my stories are only getting a few votes here and there.
 
Strongly considering it. Some of my stories are only getting a few votes here and there.

For me it's basically, I want to see what happens next in pretty much all your stories but we can only vote for 4. But then you put out a chapter in a story and I'm like 'Damn it, I need to know what happens next!'. Like if you put this one on the list I would probably start putting that at the top for a while even though OMT and Trump Card are my two current favorites.

Only solution? You need to be cloned.
 
Jeez just how many of your stories do I have faved Ack?.....not enough apparently!:D Also Lisa might be praying that Taylor survived.
 
This is great. Rare to see Armsmaster seems a bit confrontational given what Taylor has been through.
 
Feels like we should be seeing more of Taylor's inner feelings here. I mean, this is a rather huge setback for her, being a hero was the only thing getting her through her shitty life and she's beaten so badly on her first night out that she was facing a brutally painful death. Given how low her self-esteem already is at this point it seems like she would be a bit more emotional.
 
This is great. Rare to see Armsmaster seems a bit confrontational given what Taylor has been through.
He doesn't do 'nice' very well.

Feels like we should be seeing more of Taylor's inner feelings here. I mean, this is a rather huge setback for her, being a hero was the only thing getting her through her shitty life and she's beaten so badly on her first night out that she was facing a brutally painful death. Given how low her self-esteem already is at this point it seems like she would be a bit more emotional.
Up till now, she's been reacting - she's literally just woken up from what she thought was death. Also, she has a habit of withdrawing when around others.
Now she's alone, and has time to think about it ...
 
Feels like we should be seeing more of Taylor's inner feelings here. I mean, this is a rather huge setback for her, being a hero was the only thing getting her through her shitty life and she's beaten so badly on her first night out that she was facing a brutally painful death. Given how low her self-esteem already is at this point it seems like she would be a bit more emotional.

Well there is also the fact that she lost against Lung, someone who has solo'd the entire ENE Protectorate at the same time and fought Leviathan to a standstill for hours by himself. She already assumed a complete victory was out of the question, she wanted to delay or distract them from their targets and in that she succeeded. Hell it's even better because in this she doesn't even know the targets in question were other villains so in her mind her sacrifice and near death has saved innocent lives so she would probably have an ego boost from it. Not a huge one, but not feeling all that bad about it either.
 
Well there is also the fact that she lost against Lung, someone who has solo'd the entire ENE Protectorate at the same time and fought Leviathan to a standstill for hours by himself. She already assumed a complete victory was out of the question, she wanted to delay or distract them from their targets and in that she succeeded. Hell it's even better because in this she doesn't even know the targets in question were other villains so in her mind her sacrifice and near death has saved innocent lives so she would probably have an ego boost from it. Not a huge one, but not feeling all that bad about it either.
This. The only people who get to be embarrassed by losing to Lung are Endbringers, Zion, the Triumvirate, Dragon, Narwhal, and Glastig Uaine.
 
Ash beast, the Blasphemies, Sleeper, Contessa, Noelle, Eden, The Yangban... Missing any? I think lung Would thrash Nilbog...
 
Well there is also the fact that she lost against Lung, someone who has solo'd the entire ENE Protectorate at the same time and fought Leviathan to a standstill for hours by himself

Something to point out - she didn't lose. Lung's in custody at the moment, Taylor isn't. Sure, Taylor had to get reinforcements, but...
One of them's in a cushy cast looking at complete body regeneration, and the other is about to die if they don't get immediate aid.
Hint: The dragon got the worst of it.

:D
 
Plenty, but it's not just people that are stronger than him. Armsmaster would be plenty embarrassed, even before he developed his nanothorns or sedatives designed with Lung in mind. Cherish could defeat him easily, many masters and strangers could. He's only really strong if someone lets him be strong or is too weak to stop him before he ramps up, in which case he wouldn't really need to turn into a dragon anyway.
 
Part Two: Discussing Options
Confrontation

Part Two: Discussing Options


The room was very quiet after they left. I thought it through; 'Code blue' probably meant something pretty drastic. Panacea was running in that direction, so she thought that she would be needed.

I wondered how much trouble I would be in if Lung died of an overdose of bug venom, after he did his best to kill me. Then I decided to see if I could tell what was going on.

Even in a hospital, it was amazing to see how many bugs there really are. I left the bigger ones where they were, and moved the tiny ones around. When one of them encountered someone moving fast, it hitched a ride.

In a hospital, I discovered, people move fast for a variety of reasons. Not all of my bugs were going to the same place, or even the same floor. But enough were going to the same room, on the same floor as me, to give me the idea as to where Lung was.

Sure enough, my bugs picked up Armsmaster and Panacea, both of them distinctive enough that even the crappy eyes of a tiny insect could tell them apart from doctors and nurses. I wasn't quite sure why I was even trying to keep tabs on them; it wasn't like my bugs could do anything in this situation.

I shivered, momentarily. Despite all my preparation, despite all my self-training, Lung had nearly killed me. Had come within seconds of doing so. Even if he'd left me, if those other people – whoever they were – had not shown up, I wouldn't have been able to move. I would have died there, suffocated when my lungs gave out or filled up with blood, or when the infections from my burns got too much for my body to handle. I doubt I would have lived long enough to die of starvation or thirst.

It was strange, though. While that bothered me on an intellectual level, it wasn't really affecting me, not on a personal level. I should be curled up in a ball, catatonic, or screaming my lungs out at the sheer terror I had gone through. But I wasn't. The disquiet went through me, then went ... somewhere else. Somewhere that I could handle it a lot easier.

Giving me time to think about how thoroughly I had screwed it up.

<><>​

It was my own stupid fault, of course; when he climbed up on the roof, I had taken the shot too early with the pepper spray. My hand had been shaking too much, and the spray had been way off target – closer to my own face than his. I'd swung it around and tried to get him, but the spray died just before it contacted his face.

I'd tried to dodge back, to get away, but for a huge guy, he moved fast. I never even saw the blow coming. When Lung hit me, my costume had stopped the claws themselves, but had done little against the sheer crushing impact of his blow. I had been flung sideways, skidding on the gravel, feeling like a truck had just ploughed into me. Hearing your own bones break? Right up there on the 'things I never ever want to experience again' chart.

And then he'd toasted me. Breathed flame all over me. Even now, I could recall how it felt. My costume had not caught fire, had not melted. My back armour had given me some protection, I figured, but nowhere near enough. My legs were seared, even through the costume. My arms as well. My right arm was broken around that time, too. I was a little vague about whether this was when he hit me, or when I hit the roof.

And of course, he had set my hair on fire. I remembered screaming, and being able to do precious little else about it. The stink of burning hair is bad. The stink of your own burning hair, the smell of your skin blistering and melting … ten times worse. Take it from me.

I will remember it until the day that I die.

<><>​

I was still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, processing my mistakes, when Armsmaster and Panacea returned.

Panacea put a cool hand on my forehead. "Are you all right?"

Her touch was unexpectedly soothing; it felt nice, and brought back memories from long ago, when I had been ill in bed, and my mother had cared for me. Tears prickled my eyes.

"I nearly died," I told her. My voice wasn't as level as I would have liked it, but I wasn't falling apart. "He nearly killed me. It's really hard to get my head around that."

Armsmaster peered at me. "Do you think we should call a doctor?"

"I don't think so." Panacea lifted one of my hands, and held it gently. "Huh."

"Huh, what?" I asked.

"I'd think your heart rate, your blood pressure, should be higher than this. You're still recovering from a massive trauma. It's high, you've got plenty of adrenaline in your system, but you're still well in control of yourself."

"I am feeling a little bit shaky," I admitted.

"Try taking deep, slow breaths," she advised me. "You're hyperventilating, just a little bit."

I deliberately took a breath, like she told me. Unclenching my body, stretching out on the bed, giving my lungs room to expand. Immediately, I felt calmer, less stressed. "Wow, you really know this stuff."

She tilted her head. "I can't really ignore it. The human body's got all sorts of stupid loops it gets into, and I can see all of it, as soon as it starts to happen. The trick is to break the cycle and let you get back to normal operation."

"Like hiccuping," I replied.

She nodded. "Exactly. That's another one of those stupid little loops you can get caught up in. It's like when you're watching a romantic comedy, and something silly happens and you just know the girlfriend is going to come in just when the boyfriend is in a compromising position with the girl next door, and she won't believe him when he says it's all innocent, and there's all this back and forth, over and over, and if she just believed him, it would all be cut short."

I grinned at her. "But yeah, the plot demands it, so it happens. Yeah, I hate those too. So that's what it's like for you, huh?"

She might have rolled her eyes; I wasn't sure. "Oh god, you have no idea."

I paused. "Uh, I can't remember; have I thanked you for healing me? Because I'm really, really thankful, believe me."

She shrugged slightly. "You're welcome. It's nice to just have time to chat to someone, actually."

Armsmaster cleared his throat at this point.

"Or not," I replied dryly. "You were asking me questions, I think?" I paused. "Uh, Lung, is he okay?" Immediately I asked, I wondered why I had. I sure as hell didn't feel any fellow-feeling for him. Maybe I just wanted to be kept up to date.

Armsmaster nodded, his helmet moving visibly, even to my short-sighted eyes. "He was in bad shape until Panacea got to him. Necrosis had started. But he's stable now, they say."

"Necrosis?" I blurted. "Oh shit. I didn't mean for that to happen. I just wanted him to … well, not kill kids."

"I cleared it up," Panacea assured me. "But he'll be weak for a while."

I frowned. "Does he have to be? I mean, is it a side effect that you can't get around?"

She chuckled, lightly. "No. It's a side effect, yes, but I could have cancelled it. However, I think we could all do with having Lung not on top of his game for the time being." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone."

Given that 'anyone' was standing three feet away, I figured she was joking. "Well … okay."

"I'm going to ignore that," stated Armsmaster firmly. "Now, miss, what do we call you?"

"I, uh, my name?" I stammered. "Aren't you not supposed to ask me things like that?"

"Not your real name," he explained, with heavy emphasis. "Your cape name."

I swallowed. "Oh, um, that might be a problem ..."

Armsmaster tilted his head slightly. "Why?" he asked bluntly. "Are you a known criminal?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I hurried to inform him. "Last night was my first night out."

"Then where's the problem?" he pressed.

"Um, I don't have a cape name?" I confessed.

"What, really?" blurted Panacea.

I nodded, miserably. "I control bugs. Do you know how hard it is to come up with a single bug-themed name that doesn't sound dorky, or villainous, or both? Because I couldn't."

Unexpectedly, Armsmaster chuckled. "I wouldn't know. I got into the game early enough that I didn't have to worry about missing out on all of the good names."

"There aren't all that many healers out there," Panacea commented. "And I'm kinda more versatile than most of them. So I didn't have to fight anyone for the name."

"Yeah, well," I told her. "That goes without saying. You're famous."

She ducked her head. "Yeah, well, that comes with a downside, too. I can heal people, so they expect me to heal people."

I reached out, grabbed her hand. She was, I guessed, a little startled by the contact. "Hey, I think you're pretty cool in my book, okay?"

Armsmaster cleared his throat again. "As I was asking … do you have a name you'd like us to use? Because I have to put something down for the report. And the file we'll be opening on you."

"Um, um, um, how about 'bug girl' for the moment?" I asked. "With the understanding that it's only temporary."

"You'll pick a better sounding one later, you mean?" asked Panacea.

I shook my head. "No. I'll probably be giving up superheroing altogether. Because I obviously suck at it."

<><>​

Even as I spoke the words, I knew that they were true. I had gone out, I had picked a fight with the biggest, baddest cape in Brockton Bay, and I had been horribly injured. Someone else had picked that moment – probably by sheer accident – to take on Lung, and had beaten him down to the point that Armsmaster had been able to capture him.

I had nearly died.

It was a huge wake-up call, one from which I had very nearly never woken up at all.

"You were woefully under-prepared when you came out," Armsmaster noted bluntly, "not to mention coming out as a solo hero, rather than as a part of a team-up. Two classic blunders, which do lead to more first-time capes dying or quitting than any other reason."

I nodded. I didn't need him pointing out my sheer stupidity to me. Hopefully, Dad hadn't called the police yet. Maybe he thought I was sleeping in or something. If I could sneak in during the day, while he was at work …

But I was going to be a super-hero, I tried to tell myself. I needed this, for there to be something that I could do, that wasn't being bullied at school, or lying to Dad at home, something that I could focus on.

But I really sucked at being a superhero. Powers, check. Costume, check. Execution, fail.

"There's another option," he suggested. "We do have the Wards program." There was no judgement in his tone, no pressure. Just a statement.

I nodded; I had originally considered applying to join, but the notion of escaping the stresses of high school by flinging myself into a mess of teenage drama, adult oversight and schedules seemed self-defeating. So then I had decided not to subject myself to that, and to go the solo route.

Which had turned out oh so well for me.

With the wisdom of hindsight, and as near a near-death experience could get without involving actual death, I found myself reconsidering my decision. Maybe some positive adult oversight might be a good idea. It wasn't as though there'd be any bullies in the Wards, after all. And I bet myself that if I told Armsmaster about problems I was having in the Wards, something would sure as hell be done about it.

And I'd be able to be a superhero. With proper equipment, and backup. Peers I would actually have something in common with.

The more I thought about it, the more attractive it seemed.

"I'll do it," I told him.


End of Part Two

Part Three
 
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1st day of Bug Girl in the Wards: fight with Shadow Stalker.
Second day: Shadow Stalker is sent to juvie (I hope) or ostracized by the rest of the Wards - because even if Taylor doesn't tell them immediately, Gallant is totally going to notice how they feel about each other, and I can't see the Wards not finding out what happened after that, even with Dean's difficulty in understanding what his power is telling him (Amy having a crush on her sister isn't something that would occur to most people who don't know what's really going on with her - so how much difficulty he has is debatable).
 
Ah, crap.

Going to the wards isn't going to be good for her.

I am glad that's she's listening to solid advice from Armsmaster (Which you've captured splendidly here) and she seems to be making friends with Panacea, which is always a good thing. I think they'll be good friends and help eachother out.
 
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This is an interesting story, but I'm not sure that it feels IC for Taylor or not, especially as the Queen Administrator. Her determination, her need for control, and the way she tended to offload her emotions into the swarm even from the start don't really jive well with the hospital scene. You tend to go very light on your parahuman derangements though, so it makes sense that you would see things playing out this way.
 
This is an interesting story, but I'm not sure that it feels IC for Taylor or not, especially as the Queen Administrator. Her determination, her need for control, and the way she tended to offload her emotions into the swarm even from the start don't really jive well with the hospital scene. You tend to go very light on your parahuman derangements though, so it makes sense that you would see things playing out this way.
Note that she didn't really push much for control over the first few days with the Undersiders. Well, there was the fight with Rachel, but that was started by Rachel.
Right now, in the fic, she has quite literally nearly died, through her oen miscalculation, and by a lot closer margin than in canon. She's rather shaken, but she does not want to give up the super hero dream, so she goes for the Wards offer.
 
Hn, would it be better or worse for her if she joined the Guild instead... There are a lot of pros and cons involved.

Anyway, this is going to be an explosive meeting. Prediction: If there's no/insufficient official action regarding Shadow Stalker, there will probably be a fair amount of people refusing orders in the Wards and maybe even the Protectorate and PRT.
 

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