Taylor Hebert, Medhall Intern [Worm Fanfic]

[Zackarix]

Can't wait to read another story about sympathetic nazis.

Place your bets, how long til the teenage bully with mental issues gets gruesomely killed.

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Nobody is forcing you to read, are they? And I'm pretty sure that Ack's only other story where the E88 come off as remotely sympathetic is Slippery Slope where they also come off as a cult. Given that story was put on the backburner because of the current political environment I don't think the author will go down a similar path with this one.

If I remember correctly Ack prefers "humiliatingly arrested" to "gruesomely killed" for Sophia's fate. And speaking of Sophia, the idea of "pepper boxing" is brilliant. It's also completely terrible, but as revenge for being pepper sprayed it's a great twist on the locker.

 

[Ack]

Nobody is forcing you to read, are they? And I'm pretty sure that Ack's only other story where the E88 come off as remotely sympathetic is Slippery Slope where they also come off as a cult. Given that story was put on the backburner because of the current political environment I don't think the author will go down a similar path with this one.

Click to shrink...

This is correct.

If I remember correctly Ack prefers "humiliatingly arrested" to "gruesomely killed" for Sophia's fate. And speaking of Sophia, the idea of "pepper boxing" is brilliant. It's also completely terrible, but as revenge for being pepper sprayed it's a great twist on the locker.

Click to shrink...

She will be arrested, charged, quietly handed over to the PRT, screamed at by Piggot, cut loose from the PRT, then dumped into juvey with a discreet electronic collar affixed to her ankle (that can send fifty thousand volts through her if she tries to phase) to learn the error of her ways.

 

[Simonbob]

She will be arrested, charged, quietly handed over to the PRT, screamed at by Piggot, cut loose from the PRT, then dumped into juvey with a discreet electronic collar affixed to her ankle (that can send fifty thousand volts through her if she tries to phase) to learn the error of her ways.

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....... And there was much rejoicing.

 

[Crazael]

She will be arrested, charged, quietly handed over to the PRT, screamed at by Piggot, cut loose from the PRT, then dumped into juvey with a discreet electronic collar affixed to her ankle (that can send fifty thousand volts through her if she tries to phase) to learn the error of her ways.

Click to shrink...

I've always preferred that sort of resolution myself. Though I did have one idea of them both being in the Wards together (Basically, the PRT couldn't transfer her because her parents refused to allow it, and there wasn't enough evidence of criminal activity in her bullying of Taylor for her to go to jail) and ending up with a grudging respect for each other.

 

[Ack]

I've always preferred that sort of resolution myself. Though I did have one idea of them both being in the Wards together (Basically, the PRT couldn't transfer her because her parents refused to allow it, and there wasn't enough evidence of criminal activity in her bullying of Taylor for her to go to jail) and ending up with a grudging respect for each other.

Click to shrink...

I've done a couple of fics like that.

I prefer not to retread old ground.

 

[Ack]

Taylor Hebert, Medhall Intern

Part Five: Glorious Schadenfreude

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by GW_Yoda and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


In far less time than I would've believed possible, we were arrayed in Principal Blackwell's office. Only three of us wanted to be there; me, Mr Grayson, and Bradley. Emma didn't want to be there, Madison didn't want to be there, Sophia didn't want to be there, and Blackwell definitely didn't want us to be there. We'd dropped Greg off to the school nurse on the way. With the mauling that Sophia had handed him, he probably needed medical attention. But he'd handed me his phone before we left him behind.

On the way, Mr Grayson had quietly advised me to let him do all the talking. I was not to let the others provoke me into an outburst; the only time I was to speak at all was to answer whatever questions he had for me, and to only answer those questions. Any questions from Blackwell were to be referred to him.

"What about Dad?" I'd asked.

"Ms Grimshaw will have already contacted him," he assured me. "I don't know the man personally, but everything I've heard about him tells me he'll be on the way."

That gave me a warm feeling; not only that he thought so highly of Dad, but that they'd bothered to contact him at all. Because although Mr Grayson was definitely the legal expert in the room, and Bradley looked like he could bend steel with his pecs, I wanted Dad there too. Partly because Emma had been surreptitiously texting all the way to the office, as had Sophia. Madison had just looked frightened. I felt a tiny spark of glee at that. Not so much fun now, is it?

As we trooped into Blackwell's office, Mr Grayson leading the way with me beside him and Bradley bringing up the rear, I could see the wheels spinning in her head. She was trying hard to decipher everything about the situation, and the presence of the Medhall people was severely throwing her off. But Emma and Sophia were there, and so she went on the attack.

Well, their presence might not have been the catalyst for her reaction, but I couldn't see much else that would have. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Ms Barnes, who are these people?"

Mr Grayson smiled, giving off the impression of being a friendly shark. Well, friendly to me. "Good morning, Principal Blackwell," he said with impeccable timing, talking right over the top of what Emma tried to say. "I'm Alexander Grayson, with the Medhall legal department. This is Bradley Fieldmark, with the Medhall security department. We were already coming here to investigate an alleged ongoing bullying situation involving Taylor Hebert, one of our most promising interns. Imagine our surprise when we get a phone call on the way, alerting us to the fact that Taylor was in a potentially dangerous situation. And so it was when we arrived. Taylor was being held by these two students, under threat of being forced into her locker, while that one there performed serious bodily harm on our other promising young Winslow intern." Placing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward into her space. "I have to ask; is this how you run your school on a daily basis?"

Blackwell drew herself up. "Mr … Grayson, was it? You were not invited into this school, so I'm going to ask you to leave. Whatever was or was not going on between my students, I will be dealing with it, not you."

"That's perfectly reasonable," Mr Grayson said. "We'll be leaving now. If you won't address the explicit criminality of the actions of those three, especially that one," he indicated Sophia, "I'm sure the BBPD will be pleased to do it for you." He smiled winningly. "And of course, images of these three manhandling and assaulting Taylor and her friend Greg will go marvellously on the front page of the Bulletin." He held up his hands, fingers framing an imaginary headline. "Students savagely beaten; Winslow principal refuses to act." Theatrically, he turned to Bradley. "Do you think the seven o'clock news would like the audio we have of Principal Blackwell's prize track star planning to murder Miss Hebert?"

Deadpan, the massive security guard nodded. "Yeah. I figure they might." He gestured to me to follow, as all three of us headed for the door.

"Wait—wait, wait, wait!" The words were torn from Blackwell's throat as she half-rose and put her hand out toward us. "Murder? Audio? What are you talking about?"

We stopped, just short of the door. Mr Grayson turned and smiled at Blackwell, his expression cold instead of genial. He was really, really good at that. Just for a moment, I was able to see him as the bad guy in a movie, with Bradley as his hulking minion. "Mr Veder recorded his interaction with the three girls here. Miss Hebert, if you can play it back, please?"

"Certainly, Mr Grayson," I replied. Greg had confided his password to me (it was 1-9-8-2, the year capes first appeared) so I was able to access his phone and call up the sound file he'd recorded.

It started with his voice. From the echoes, he was hurrying along a corridor, panting slightly. "This is Greg Veder. I'm recording this because there are people who'll try to say it never happened. Well, it's happening all the time. Emma, Madison and Sophia keep picking on Taylor. I might be just one person, but I can't let it keep happening. Not anymore." There was a pause in his voice, but the background noise kept going unchecked. Then there was the sound of cloth sliding over the microphone. Things got a little muffled then, but the voices were still perfectly audible.

"Oh, hey." It was clearly Madison's voice. "When it's empty, wipe the prints off it and put it in there with her. That way we can say she did it to herself."

"Whoa, damn." We turned to look at Sophia. She glared at us. "I am fucking impressed, Mads. You come up with the best plans." There was a grunt of exertion. "Time to try out your new accommodations, Hebert. Might be a bit cramped, but you'll have time to get used to it."

Mr Grayson made a gesture, and I paused the recording. "What are these 'accommodations' Sophia was referring to, Ms Hebert?" he asked, because Principal Blackwell certainly didn't seem likely to do so. "And what was Madison referring to when she said 'wipe the prints off it'?" With a notepad in hand, he poised an elegant-looking pen expectantly.

"They were going to shove me in my locker," I said, glaring at Blackwell and silently daring her to ignore the evidence this time. "Then spray a pepper-spray canister in there with me."

He nodded and took notes. "Thank you. Please continue."

I hit the button on the phone. Almost immediately, we heard Greg's voice. "Let her go!" This was a lot closer than the others. "Emma Barnes! Madison Clements! Sophia Hess! Let Taylor go! Right now!"

"And there you have positive identification of everyone who was there," murmured Mr Grayson. Principal Blackwell looked more and more hunted.

"What the fuck?" That was Sophia's voice, sounding utterly baffled.

"What the fuck, Greg?" Emma's tone was equally disbelieving.

"Greg?" Madison's voice joined the chorus. "What do you think you're doing?"

Greg's voice wavered between outrage and 'what the hell am I doing'. "Shut the fuck up. Let her go right now, or you're in big trouble. I mean it!"

The only thing we heard for a few moments was laughter, then Sophia spoke. "And what the fuck do you think you're going to do, Veder?" she asked derisively. "I don't see any teachers, and I don't see Blackwell. And who's gonna believe your word against ours?"

"It'll be Taylor and me, and they'll believe us!" Greg maintained. "You'll all be in deep shit if you don't let her go right now!"

Mr Grayson gestured again, and I paused the playback. "That's three times the young man advised them to release her, I believe," he murmured. "At no time did anyone say anything to the effect that they weren't holding her."

"It's audio, not video—" Blackwell began.

"They were identified by name, Principal Blackwell," he interrupted her. "And I would be willing to run voice-prints on every voice on this recording, if I had to. We all know it's those three." Again, he nodded to me. "Continue."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just spray him already." That was Emma, and she didn't sound happy.

"No, I want to save it all for Hebert." I glanced at Sophia, who sneered at me, but kept a cautious eye on Bradley. Her voice went on. "You two hold Hebert. I got this."

"Where do you think you're going, Taylor?" Emma's tone was sickly sweet.

"You're not going anywhere, except in your locker." Madison just sounded amused. "Maybe after Sophia's finished beating the shit out of Greg, he can join you in there. He's obviously got the hots for you, after all."

Emma didn't sound mocking anymore. "Fuck, Madison, I think he really does. He's not running away."

About ten seconds passed. I could hear Greg's quick breathing on the audio. There were footsteps, but it was impossible to tell what was happening; or it would've been if I hadn't already lived through it. Finally, Sophia's voice came up, a lot closer than before. "That's right, Veder. Run and hide."

Over her receding footsteps, I could hear Greg breathing. He seemed to almost be sobbing, then he took a deep breath. "Gotta do this," he muttered. "Gotta do this. Friends stand up for each other." He took another breath. "C'mon, Greg, don't be a wimp all your fucking life." His footsteps started accelerating. A few seconds later, there was a thud and a grunt, then more thuds and some panting. There were no words, but the sounds of exertion.

Mr Grayson held up a finger, and I paused the playback.

"What's going on there, Ms Hebert?" he asked, one eye on Blackwell.

"That would be the point when Greg tackled Sophia," I explained. "I have to say, I honestly didn't think he had it in him."

"I find myself impressed as well," he agreed, and flicked his fingers to signal me to continue.

Maybe thirty seconds went by, then there was a meaty thud and a metallic clang. Greg's breathing was harsh, then finally he managed to get some slurred words out. "I said, leave Taylor 'lone."

Sophia didn't say anything, but even Bradley seemed to wince at the sounds of fist striking flesh. Then there was a high-pitched scream, too close to be anyone but Greg. This time, Bradley did wince. I got the impression he knew exactly what had occasioned that noise.

More movement happened, then my voice came across the recording. It sounded weird to me. "Leave him alone!"

"Oh, you want some too, do you, Hebert?" Even when played back, Sophia's tone was nothing short of murderous.

"Come get me, Sophia." My voice sounded more confident. "You might find that one-on-one's a lot harder than three-on-one. It won't be as easy to shove me in the locker with just you, either."

"I can get you in there with just one hand." Sophia's voice moved away from Greg. "And I can always say you broke your hands on the inside of the locker. After you emptied your own pepper-spray canister in there with you." There was a pause. "Hebert, you are so fucked. There's no way you can win against me. Why don't you just admit it?"

"Because she knows better." Involuntarily, Blackwell looked at Mr Grayson as his voice intruded on the recording. "Miss Hebert, are you all right?"

"I've been better." My voice still sounded weird. "Greg might need medical attention, too. Did you get all that?"

"Audio as well as video," Mr Grayson's voice said on the recording. "Of course, if it wasn't for Mr. Veder's quick thinking, as well as his incredibly noble sacrifice play, we probably wouldn't have gotten here in time."

"We can cut it off there," Grayson himself said, nodding to me. Then he turned to Blackwell, whose face had the kind of expression borne by people facing a firing squad. "As you may have heard, Bradley and I showed up then, and I was recording video and audio. When Ms Hebert intervened, that one there had Mr Veder down on the ground, and was about to kick him in the face. She's quite athletic; the chance of permanent injury or even death would have been significant. My question to you is this: do you call the police and press charges on all three of them, or do I do it and throw you and the entire school under the bus at the same time?" His sunny smile never changed, but somehow it became a lot more menacing. "Because there's no way I'm letting this farce go on a moment longer."

"Taylor hit me!" Emma burst out, apparently unable to keep quiet for a moment longer. She pointed at her mouth, where my fist had disarranged her lipstick. "Right here! I think I've got a loose tooth! You should have her arrested too!"

"And she elbowed me in the head!" Madison blurted out. "She's a psycho!"

Bradley turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly as he gave me a look of approval. "Damn, kid. You're a wild animal."

I ducked my head and blushed at the compliment, but Mr Grayson was already talking. He never looked away from Principal Blackwell as he answered Emma. "Ms Barnes, there is such a thing in law as 'self-defense'. Taylor was being mobbed three on one, she has a clearly obvious bruise on her cheekbone that I know she didn't have yesterday, and the audio recording has you and Ms Clements holding her against her will, while your friend performs grievous bodily harm on a boy who merely wished to help Taylor. No jury in the world would convict her. You two, on the other hand … well, neither one of you did more than hold Taylor, did you?" He smiled as Sophia twitched.

"We-we never hit Taylor," Emma said, then pointed at me. "Tell them, Taylor!"

I remembered Mr Grayson's advice and looked at him for guidance. He nodded, then gestured at Emma and Madison. "Did either one of these girls hit you, Taylor?"

"Emma dug her nails into my arm," I said, pulling up my sleeve to show him the red marks, "but no, neither one of them hit me." I looked at Sophia, who had somehow managed to refine her glare-of-death while we were talking. If she'd had eye-beam Blaster powers, she could've fried Behemoth with them. From orbit. "That was all Sophia, from beginning to end."

"That's a lie!" Sophia shouted. "She's lying!"

"Well, if she's lying," Mr Grayson said thoughtfully, "that means one of you two must have been the one to work Taylor over and give her the bruising she's already wearing. Which of you two is it, hmm?" Behind him, Bradley folded his arms ominously.

The brunette and the redhead flicked glances at each other, then at Sophia. With elegant unconcern, Mr Grayson wrote something else in his notepad. With a quiet snap, he closed it and put it away, then clicked his pen and tucked it into his pocket. "Very well, then—" he began, taking his phone out of his pocket.

"Sophia's the one who's lying!" Madison burst out. "She beat up Greg and Taylor! Emma and me never hit Taylor! It was all Sophia's idea! Her and Emma! I had nothing to do with it!"

"Madison, you idiot!" yelled Emma. "I—"

"You little fucking coward!" Sophia surged forward, her hands reaching for Madison. The petite brunette tried to jump back out of the way, but she was a day late and far more than a dollar short. They went down in a tumbling heap that I had to skip sideways to avoid. I'd known Sophia had a temper on her, but all of a sudden I was glad I'd never pushed her quite this far.

"Sophia Hess!" shrieked Principal Blackwell. "Stop that right this instant!" She hurried out from behind her desk and tried to prise the two of them apart; Sophia laying into Madison with over-the-shoulder punches, Madison desperately defending with everything she had, and failing badly.

A single muscular leg, dark-skinned, launched out of the melee. It struck Blackwell in the stomach, driving the wind went out of her. She staggered back and sat down hard on the floor with an oof.

"Well, as entertaining as it is to see idiots fall out …" Mr Grayson sighed. "Bradley, if you will?"

"Right." Moving forward, Bradley all of a sudden went from looking like a burly security guard who might smack intruders upside the head with his baton to … I didn't know what. Dangerous. Striking like a snake, he darted his arm into the shrieking tangle of arms and legs and hauled out Sophia, one huge hand tangled into her long flowing black hair.

She struggled and screeched swear-words I'd only heard hardened Dockworkers use before, and tried to turn to attack him. Swinging her around, he let her go as his arm reached full extension, hurling her across the room where she hit one of the uncomfortable chairs that Blackwell liked to inflict on visitors and folded into it. Almost immediately, she was up again, launching herself forward. I wasn't sure if she was going after Madison, Bradley or even me, but she ran straight into a crisp backhand that crossed her eyes and dropped her right back into the chair.

"Stay," growled Bradley. I blinked, surprised at how fast the big man could move. He continued to loom over Sophia, keeping her in the chair with his sheer presence.

"Ms Clements, are you all right?" asked Mr Grayson. He went to one knee beside Madison and began to help her up. "Are you having trouble breathing? Do you need the nurse?" He tilted his head toward Sophia. "Do you want to press charges? I witnessed the whole thing, and I'm willing to take the case pro bono."

Madison shook her head. "I'm fine," she said nasally, and not very truthfully. Her nose was busted and Sophia had messed the rest of her face up but good. She seemed to be hesitating over the second question the office door opened.

"I came as fast as I—" began Dad. He broke off at the sight of the scene; Emma huddled into the corner with her eyes wide and her hands covering her mouth, Sophia dazedly slumped into a chair, Madison looking like she'd gone ten rounds with Behemoth, and Principal Blackwell painfully climbing to her feet with the assistance of her desk.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" I wasn't usually this demonstrative with Dad, but I grabbed him and hugged him.

He reflexively hugged me back, but he was staring over my shoulder at the scene of violence behind me. "I'm glad I'm here too. What the hell's been going on here? I got a phone call saying you'd been attacked." With his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me back a couple of feet to examine me. "What happened to your face?" He paused, then looked down at Madison. "And what happened to her face?"

I took a breath to explain, decided against trying to get all the details right, and gestured at Mr Grayson, who was helping Madison stand up while she held her nose. I didn't have much in the way of sympathy. "Same person. Sophia Hess. That's Mr Grayson and Bradley. They saved me from her." Well, Greg had kind of saved me too, but that was a point of detail I'd get into later.

"Alexander Grayson, Medhall legal department," Mr Grayson said smoothly, offering his hand to Dad. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr Hebert. Your daughter has been impressing us all at Medhall." He indicated Bradley. "This is Bradley Fieldmark, a member of our security staff. We were on our way out here when we were contacted and told that Taylor was in trouble. So we got here as quickly as possible, and encountered these girls holding Taylor and announcing they were going to put her in her locker, while that one there severely beat a boy who'd attempted to come to her rescue." He pointed at Sophia. "We understand she's also the one who marked Taylor's face."

Dad blinked as he shook Mr Grayson's hand, apparently trying to unpack all that. Then he focused on the one detail that jumped out at him. "Emma? What are you doing here? Is this true?"

She stared defiantly at him, even as she reluctantly took her hands away from her mouth. "I'm saying nothing until my father gets here."

Dad looked at me questioningly. I sighed. "It's exactly what it looks like. Emma and Madison and Sophia have been bullying me for more than a year. When I started at Medhall, I went and bought business clothing. They grabbed me outside the mall and straight-up stole most of it from me."

"Bullshit." Sophia still looked a bit groggy, but she glared at me from where she was sitting. "No fuckin' way you afforded that. You shoplifted it for sure. You're a fuckin' thief, Hebert."

"On the contrary," Mr Grayson said. "Upon the commencement of her duties, Ms Hebert was given a cash advance which she used to purchase the clothing." Because as part of the legal department, he would've signed off on it.

"And Madison's wearing one of my blouses," I added. "In case anyone's wondering."

Everyone turned to look at her, and she stepped back defensively. "I wanna go home," she mumbled.

"That's a good idea," Mr Grayson said. "Though you really should see the school nurse first, just in case." He turned to Principal Blackwell and raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should summon a teacher to get her there?"

The subtle sarcasm in his tone—perhaps you should have thought of that before I told you to do it—clearly stung, but Principal Blackwell did as she was told, and lifted the phone on her desk. A short but very sharp conversation later, she put the phone down. "It's done," she said sullenly.

"Thank you," Mr Grayson said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Now, Madison, was it your idea to steal the clothing, or was it theirs?"

It took her a few seconds to get the message that she was being thrown a lifeline, then she nodded hastily. "Theirs. It was theirs. Emma and Sophia wanted to do it. They told me to wear the blouse 'cause I was the only one who could fit into it and they knew it would piss off Taylor."

"Who knew what would piss off Taylor?" With those words, the office door opened once more and the last player in our little drama strode onto the stage. Alan Barnes looked from side to side, and his eyebrows rose. "Taylor, Emma, what's going on here?"

"Dad, Taylor punched me in the mouth!" shouted Emma.

Predictably, Mr Barnes swung his whole bulk toward me and Dad. "Taylor, you'd better hope you've got a really good reason—"

"She does." Mr Grayson stepped forward, hand extended as though Mr Barnes were his best friend in all the world. "Hi, I think we've met a few times. Alexander Grayson. I'm with the Medhall legal department, representing Taylor Hebert. As I recall, you're a divorce lawyer? That's nice."

And there it was, laid out in black and white. You can't take me on your best day.

Mr Barnes blinked a couple of times as Mr Grayson shook his hand. "Representing Taylor? Why?"

The smile on Mr Grayson's face grew a little sharper. "Are you asking what matter I'm representing Taylor in, or the reason why I'm bothering to represent Taylor at all?"

"The, the first one." I was no expert in reading expressions, but I would've bet Alan Barnes wanted to say 'both'. "Is it about the assault on my daughter?"

Mr Grayson chuckled politely, as though Mr Barnes had made a joke that had fallen flat. "Hm, no. Though that will reach court in one way or another. I will be representing Taylor in the lawsuit against Winslow High School for ongoing negligence in that they allowed your daughter and her friends to carry on a protracted campaign of mental, physical and emotional abuse against her for more than a year. Bullying, in fact. There will probably also be criminal charges laid against your daughter and her two friends, especially that one—" He indicated Sophia. "—for attempting to murder her by trapping her in an enclosed space then filling that space with pepper spray."

"What, murder?" Mr Barnes' head came up. "Pepper spray is non-lethal. You'll never make it stick."

"It's an inflammatory," Mr Grayson explained patiently. "A brief exposure can leave a person helpless for minutes at a time, and cause breathing problems. How would you fare if I forced you to breathe a concentrated dose for an hour and a half? At the very least, it will be attempted manslaughter. Bradley, you have the canister, correct?"

"Yes, Mr Grayson." Bradley produced the canister, carefully wrapped in a handkerchief, from his pocket, then tucked it away again.

"And so." Mr Grayson indicated the canister. "That's got her fingerprints on it." He nodded toward Sophia. "I'd be interested to know where she got it from."

"Uh, it's mine," I said hastily. "Dad gave it to me for self-protection, and she stole it."

"You used it on me yesterday!" shouted Sophia.

"After you tried to stop me from getting on the bus so I could go to work at Medhall," I shot back. "And Emma rang my boss and pretended to be me quitting the internship."

"I'm going to need proof for that accusation." Mr Barnes looked at me severely. "Unsubstantiated allegations can lead to considerable legal trouble."

"Medhall records all incoming and outgoing phone calls," Mr Grayson announced, ruthlessly cutting him off at the knees. "I already have an extensive sample of Emma's voice for an analysis check. Would you like to bet money on the outcome, or just concede right now?"

"Recording inside a school, in an all-party consent state—"

Mr Grayson rolled his eyes. "Oh, do try to keep up, Mr Barnes." I couldn't blame him; he was utterly in control of the situation. "One, a school is not a place with a reasonable expectation of privacy. Two, even a technically illegal recording is admissible in court so long as the police did not make it." He paused. "And, talking about recordings." A nod in my direction. "I think Mr Barnes needs to know exactly who he's trying to defend, here."

"I know who I'm defending!" Mr Barnes blustered. "Emma's a good girl—!"

Just then, there was a knock on the office door, and none other than Mr Gladly leaned in. "I'm here to escort Madison Clements to the … good god, what's going on here?"

Mr Grayson waved his hand in a go-away gesture. "That's not your concern," he stated flatly. "Madison, go with him. Call your parents. Go home. And think very long and hard about who your friends really are. The police will be around to talk to you."

She gave him a frightened look, then left.

As the door closed behind her, Mr Grayson gestured to Greg's phone, which I still held. Taking the hint, I restarted the audio file. To give Mr Barnes credit, he listened all the way through without trying to interrupt. When Emma tried to speak over it, he waved her to silence. We both knew damn well he knew her voice as well as I did. I didn't know how well he knew Sophia and Madison, but from the way the colour left his face, I figured he recognised their voices as well.

When Mr Grayson's voice cut in at the end, Mr Barnes glanced sharply at him. The mention of video and audio didn't make him in any way happy.

"You have an interesting definition of 'good', Mr Barnes," Mr Grayson said after I stopped the playback. "What's your opinion of Sophia Hess?" Without giving the man a chance to reply, he started his phone playing; even from the angle I was at, I could see a razor-sharp image of Sophia brutalising Greg. Her voice was just as clear as it had been on Greg's phone, and even I could tell that the overlap in the recorded audio meant it would be very hard to discredit it in court. He ended the recording and studied Mr Barnes' face. "Did you have any questions? Would you like me to replay any part of that?"

Emma must have been still smarting from the punch in the mouth, because she chose this incredibly unwise moment to speak up. "Dad, are you going to let him talk to you like that? Taylor hit me!"

Drawing a deep breath, Mr Barnes spun around to her and pointed at one of the chairs. "You're in enough trouble right now, so sit down and shut up!" he bellowed. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face and ran them through his thinning red hair.

Mr Grayson let him stew, even as he stepped aside to allow Emma to sit down. She was white in the face, possibly because her father had never shouted at her like that in my presence, ever. Dad didn't say a word, merely looking from Mr Grayson to Mr Barnes like a spectator in a tennis match. Principal Blackwell was back in her chair, but she wasn't saying a word, maybe hoping we'd forget she'd ever been in the room. I didn't really blame her. She'd repeatedly dropped the ball so hard it probably had a concussion.

"Sophia …" Mr Barnes began.

The dark-skinned girl stopped glaring at Bradley—who was still looming over her—long enough to look at him. "What?" she snapped, almost as though this was all his fault for not resolving it immediately in her favour.

"Have you called your … uh, Ms Bright?" I wasn't quite sure why he'd stumbled over the woman's name, but he was clearly rattled. Who Ms Bright was, I had no idea. Maybe her parents had split with each other, and Ms Bright was her father's new girlfriend?

"Yeah, I've called her." Sophia didn't quite sneer at us, but her expression hardened. "And you jack-offs are gonna be sorry you messed with me."

I frowned. That didn't exactly sound like Sophia's usual line of tough talk. And Mr Barnes also seemed to be taking her seriously. Glancing at Mr Grayson, I caught him and Bradley sharing a quick look. They didn't know either, which made me wonder who Ms Bright was. She couldn't be someone high up in the legal field, because Mr Grayson would've known the name. I'd thought everyone who was likely to show up, had. Apparently, I'd been wrong.

Sophia's phone buzzed, and she took it out. A vicious smile spread across her face. "She just got here. I'm not saying anything else."

Dad looked questioningly at me, and I shrugged in response. A glance at Principal Blackwell told me that she seemed to know who the enigmatic Ms Bright was; or at least, she wasn't as mystified as the rest of us.

Mr Barnes took another deep breath. "Emma, no matter what happens, no matter what gets said, you say nothing, do nothing. Do you understand? Anything she asks you goes through me."

I blinked. That was the exact advice Mr Grayson had given me … which made me wonder all over again who Ms Bright was that she could scare Mr Barnes like that. Mr Grayson murmured a question to Dad, who shrugged. Bradley looked as though he didn't care.

A minute or so later, the office door opened, and a woman in her late twenties entered. She was blonde, with a heart-shaped face, and looked more than a little taken aback by the tableau facing her. All in all, she did not seem to live up to Sophia's hype.

Eyebrows raised, she looked at Sophia. Then she glanced at Principal Blackwell, just as clearly dismissed her, and put her attention on Mr Grayson.

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand. "Kirsten Bright. I'm Sophia Hess' social worker. I understand there's been some sort of problem concerning her?"

Silence descended upon the room as we all did our best to digest her announcement. Bradley was the first to speak; or rather, he let out a bark of laughter. "That's it?" he asked. "We're all supposed to be scared of a social worker?"

"Now, now, let's not be rude, Bradley." Mr Grayson shook Ms Bright's hand firmly. "Social workers carry out a valuable role in society. No, Ms Bright, I don't consider the situation with your ward to be so trivial as to constitute a mere 'problem'. The phrases 'criminal charges' and 'attempted murder' are more of a correct fit. Also, 'aggravated assault', 'caught on camera' and 'tried as an adult'."

"Aggravated assault?" Ms Bright rallied hard and stared at me. "On her? If Sophia were indeed the perpetrator, I would hardly call it aggravated."

Mr Grayson spoke softly, but with deadly precision. "We stood right here in this office and witnessed your client savagely beating one of her friends who dared speak the truth about her. That person's name is Madison Clements, and she's just now been taken to the school nurse to wait for her parents to take her home. She will be joining another student, Greg Veder, who was also horrifically beaten by your client for the crime of saving Taylor there from being murdered. Again, by your client." He pointed at what I realised were drops of blood on the cheap linoleum. "That isn't tomato ketchup, Ms Bright."

I had to admire the woman's fortitude. Even with no leg to stand on, she pressed onward. "And this beating of the other boy? Did you personally witness that?"

"Funny you should ask that." Mr Grayson nodded to me. I hoped that there wouldn't be too many more people showing up, because this was getting a little tedious.

After she listened to Greg's recording and watched Mr Grayson's footage, Ms Bright looked as though she were clenching her jaw just a little harder than normal. She turned toward Principal Blackwell. "I presume she will be expelled for this?"

Some kind of message passed between them, and Blackwell nodded jerkily. I thought that was a little odd—Blackwell should've been the one pushing for expulsion, over the social worker's reluctance—but I didn't have much in the way of context. "Yes," she said. "I'll expedite the paperwork immediately."

"I thought you might." Ms Bright sighed, then addressed herself to Sophia. "I'll be taking you—"

"—nowhere," Mr Grayson said firmly. "Ms Bright, no disrespect intended, but I've never seen you at the courts, ever. I honestly do not know if you are who you say you are. Your client, if that's what she is, is a flight risk. I would be doing Taylor and Greg a grave disservice if I allowed an unknown person to walk out that door with someone I knew had committed a criminal act. You will wait with us for the police to arrive, and they will take her into custody." He turned to Principal Blackwell. "You have called the police, have you not?"

"Oh, uh …" Principal Blackwell hesitated for a fatal moment. "I thought Ms Bright would be able to sort matters out."

"And why in Heaven's name did you think that?" demanded Mr Grayson. "I mean, seriously, madam. I understand that social workers do good work, but there's a vast difference between scolding someone for skipping school and charging them with multiple cases of felony assault." He shook his head. "You've had your chance." Dismissing the video from his phone screen, he tapped in a number. "Hello, yes. My name is Alexander Grayson. I'm at Winslow High School, and I've just witnessed one of the students committing assault and battery on two other students. They are both in medical care, and at least one of them might require hospitalisation for assessment of his injuries. Yes, she's currently in custody. Please send someone to pick her up. Also, send a female officer. I believe she may need to be body-searched, and I'm not willing to do that. Yes, her name is Sophia Hess." He paused, glanced at me, then looked toward Emma with an unfriendly eye. "Also, there is another girl, named Emma Barnes. When you get here, you might want to talk to her about being an accessory before and during the fact. Yes, we will be in the principal's office."

As he ended the call, Alan Barnes stepped forward. "Do we really need to go this far with Emma?" he asked. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement without needing to bring the courts into it. Mediation …"

"Mr Barnes, you're showing your background." Mr Grayson shook his head with a slight smile. "When an actual crime has been committed, rather than a simple disagreement between two people, mediation just won't cut it. After all, what sort of mediated agreement would suffice to make up for …" He turned to me. "How long have you been suffering this mistreatment, Taylor?"

"Since school started in September of two thousand nine," I said steadily. "A bit over a year." I gave Principal Blackwell a glare at that point. "And they never listened to my complaints, even once."

"Oh, we're going to be addressing that as well," he observed, showing his teeth in a smile that gave me the distinct impression that he was enjoying this way too much. I didn't blame him; I was getting a kick out of it, too. "My only dilemma is whether I should stick to a civil suit against the school on your behalf, or if I should go so far as to push for charges against Principal Blackwell for her criminal negligence in this matter."

Dad spoke up then. "Which one would get Taylor the justice she needs?"

Mr Grayson nodded respectfully. "A salient point, Mr Hebert. Sometimes we allow our thirst for vengeance to guide our actions too far. But for Taylor's good … yes. The civil suit, I think." He turned back to Mr Barnes. "As for you, what reparations do you think would be worthwhile, considering what your daughter has been putting Taylor through for more than a year?"

The look on Mr Barnes' face almost made me smile, then and there. If he reached too low, Mr Grayson would go right ahead with prosecuting Emma. If he reached too high, Mr Grayson would let it happen. He was stuck very much between a rock and a hard place, and everyone knew it.

He took a deep breath. By the time he let it out again, I knew what his decision would be, by where he was looking. Or rather, where he wasn't looking. He looked at Emma, then at Mr Grayson, and shifted his body slightly so that his back was toward Sophia.

"Emma confesses to everything," he said tonelessly. "She returns everything she stole, and pays her back in full for what she can't return. She tells the full truth about Sophia's crimes against Taylor." The way he said Sophia's name sounded a little odd, but I didn't care. "She makes a complete public apology toward Taylor in any venue you consider appropriate. I withdraw all legal assistance and support from Sophia Hess. We'll cut all ties from her. I will personally recommend, from my knowledge of her, that she be remanded to juvenile detention, her sentence to be reviewed when she turns eighteen. In return, Emma gets immunity to prosecution for what's already happened. Is that sufficient, or would you like me to garnish her pocket money as well?"

"Well, I can't guarantee immunity," Mr Grayson noted. "That's up to the DA. But depending on the degree of cooperation from her and Madison, I can certainly recommend lenience in the matter. A suspended sentence, perhaps, or community service." He turned to Dad and me. "Do you have any thoughts on the matter?"

"Yes, I do." Dad frowned at Emma. "This sort of behaviour does not come out of nowhere. Emma gets therapy. She stays away from Taylor at all times. I'll insist on a restraining order if I have to." He turned his attention to me. "Taylor?"

"I want to go to Arcadia," I said impulsively. Clenching my fists, I stared at Mr Barnes and at Principal Blackwell. "If you really want to make this right, you can pull strings to have me transferred there. And ensure that Emma isn't even allowed to walk in the front gate."

"It'll get done," Mr Barnes assured me. Principal Blackwell began to open her mouth, but he spoke over the top of her. "I said, it will get done. Oh, and I'll be pulling Emma from Winslow as well."

"You can't send her to Arcadia," Dad said bluntly.

"No, I'm thinking I'll send her to boarding school in Boston," Mr Barnes decided. "It'll cost a bit, but she can do without the very latest in smartphones, and her first car will have to wait a few years. I'm sure it's a sacrifice she's willing to make if she wants to avoid getting into any more trouble than she's already in." He gave Emma a firm stare as she opened her mouth. After a long moment, she shut it again.

Mr Grayson smiled. "Well, that seems worthwhile so far. We'll thrash out the final details in a more salubrious atmosphere. For now, I believe I hear police sirens." His expression grew razor-edged as he looked at where Sophia glowered from her chair with Ms Bright beside her. I looked as well; her expression promised death to everyone in the room. "Once they take this little troublemaker away, we can get down to brass tacks."

"Before we do," I said, "I just want to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. I mean it. You and Bradley, you've gone above and beyond."

"Think nothing of it," he assured me. "You're a member of the Medhall family now. You're one of us. And we look out for each other."

Bradley nodded in agreement, though his eyes never left Sophia. "You got guts, kid," he said over his shoulder to me. "Sometime, I might show you and the Veder boy how to take care of yourselves in a fight. If you're interested."

"What do you think, Dad?" I asked, looking up at my father as the sirens got louder. "Should I give it a try?"

He shrugged, then put his arm over my shoulders. I leaned into him. "Couldn't hurt."



End of Part Five

 

[S.I.N]

Cheering for fucking Nazis just fuck you ack.

 

[SMDVogrin]

It's the little things that just make you squirm, as you watch People on Taylor's Side! Standing Up for Taylor! Hurray! Oh... they're sort of dumping all the blame on Sophia, huh... Making sure the black girl gets blamed for all this, huh.... Suddenly victory doesn't feel so good, as you remember that is this Victor and Hookwolf as the heroes in this number...

 

[S.I.N]

It's the little things that just make you squirm, as you watch People on Taylor's Side! Standing Up for Taylor! Hurray! Oh... they're sort of dumping all the blame on Sophia, huh... Making sure the black girl gets blamed for all this, huh.... Suddenly victory doesn't feel so good, as you remember that is this Victor and Hookwolf as the heroes in this number...

Click to shrink...

honestly the whole situation is fucked. Emma has some type of PTSD she needed therapy. Madison is just juvenile if Taylor had ever stood up to her she would have stopped. Sophia is a tragic case because her shard made her like that she didn't choose to be this way. And you can't help her.

 

[Ack]

honestly the whole situation is fucked. Emma has some type of PTSD she needed therapy. Madison is just juvenile if Taylor had ever stood up to her she would have stopped. Sophia is a tragic case because her shard made her like that she didn't choose to be this way. And you can't help her.

Click to shrink...

Well, Emma's getting the therapy now,

And Sophia could've pushed back against her shard. It's not impossible. But she went with it.

Taylor couldn't have just stood up to Madison on her own, because Madison always had Emma and Sophia to run back to. Nothing Taylor said or did would've stuck unless she was separated from those two.

 

[S.I.N]

Well, Emma's getting the therapy now,

And Sophia could've pushed back against her shard. It's not impossible. But she went with it.

Taylor couldn't have just stood up to Madison on her own, because Madison always had Emma and Sophia to run back to. Nothing Taylor said or did would've stuck unless she was separated from those two.

Click to shrink...

True on Madison, but how can push against something you don't know exists, most capes do what follow the shards intentions that's literally the plot in worm conflict which is driven by the shards.

 

[Ack]

True on Madison, but how can push against something you don't know exists, most capes do what follow the shards intentions that's literally the plot in worm conflict which is driven by the shards.

Click to shrink...

It's possible to intellectually understand that you should be a nice person while having urges to be an asshole.

Sophia just chooses to be the asshole.

 

[S.I.N]

It's possible to intellectually understand that you should be a nice person while having urges to be an asshole.

Sophia just chooses to be the asshole.

Click to shrink...

Most people don't have an actual Eldritch abomination influencing them. But to be fair you may be right shard influence is weird Vicky shard card about her leets wanted to kill him but Sophias seems to just boost her anger not how she channels it that was her decision. She herself admited she honestly just unhappy and envies Taylor.

 

[Valint]

Look, I get the satisfaction of showing the bad guys being crushed by the system they were using as a weapon against the good guys, but a lot of the legal stuff here is kind of nonsense.

I will be representing Taylor in the class-action lawsuit

Click to shrink...

A class-action lawsuit is when you have a large number of defendants (usually 40+), like "everyone who bought Product X". Using it in this context doesn't make sense.

There will also be criminal charges laid against your daughter and her two friends

Click to shrink...

Grayson is a private attorney. He's not the local prosecutor. He has zero authority to decide if criminal charges are going to be filed. He can call the cops and file a police report, but he's not the one making decisions as to what happens next.

(I'll give you a pass on the 'attempted manslaughter' claim, since that crime does exist in a few jurisdictions.)

I would be doing Taylor and Greg a grave disservice if I allowed an unknown person to walk out that door with someone I knew had committed a criminal act.

Click to shrink...

Grayson is a private attorney. He's not a cop. He has zero authority to be telling people they can or can't leave. He theoretically has the ability to make a citizen's arrest, but he didn't do that and wouldn't, because it would be a stupid thing to do that would gain him nothing.

Rather than Grayson coming across as a guy in control, he comes across as something like you're trying to portray Barnes--someone who's out of their depth and blustering by throwing around legal terms that don't really apply.

 

[GladiusLucix]

Rather than Grayson coming across as a guy in control, he comes across as something like you're trying to portray Barnes--someone who's out of their depth and blustering by throwing around legal terms that don't really apply.

Click to shrink...

I think that, assuming that nothing gets changed to be more legally accurate, Victor is intentionally throwing bullshit around to scare people into doing what he wants. Hookwolf standing behind him just adds to the threat.

Or, on the criminal charges, just because he can't press criminal charges himself doesn't mean he doesn't know a guy who knows a guy that can put a bug in the ear of the people who would be responsible for that.

 

[Gindjurra]

Which one would get Taylor the justice she needs?"

Click to shrink...

There is no reason, in the US legal system, why they can't do both. If the city or state prosecutor's office decides to file criminal charges, nothing prevents Taylor from filing a civil lawsuit as well - and having a civil lawsuit running does not prevent criminal charges.

Grayson is a private attorney. He's not a cop. He has zero authority to be telling people they can or can't leave. He theoretically has the ability to make a citizen's arrest, but he didn't do that and wouldn't, because it would be a stupid thing to do that would gain him nothing.

Click to shrink...

This is untrue. He did in fact make a citizen's arrest when he made it clear Sophia was not free to go. Under US laws, an arrest does not happen when the words "you are under arrest" are spoken, it happens when the arrested person becomes aware they are suspected of a crime and not free to go. Usually this is accomplished with words, but it does not have to be.

In our world, a citizen's arrest for the crimes Sophia committed is lawful federally and in 49 out of 50 states. It's worth noting that Brockton Bay is not in that one state. Given how citizen's arrest laws have been expanded in Worm to cover vigilantes and independent heroes, I bet what Grayson did here is going to hold up to official scrutiny just fine.

Grayson is a private attorney. He's not the local prosecutor. He has zero authority to decide if criminal charges are going to be filed. He can call the cops and file a police report, but he's not the one making decisions as to what happens next.

Click to shrink...

Maybe, maybe not. In our world, private prosecutions had been eliminated by statute in all states by 2011, but Earth Bet diverged from Earth Aleph in 1982, and Earth Aleph diverged from our own at some indeterminate point prior to that. At one time, private prosecutions were extremely common in the US. It's entirely possible that Grayson really could file actual criminal charges and act as prosecutor for them, despite being a private attorney.

Even if private prosecutions can't happen in the Earth Bet US, it's a fair bet that Grayson knows people on a first name basis in the prosecutor's office, and can ensure that charges are filed.

At this time, nobody in that room but Blackwell, Bright, Emma and Sophia know that Sophia is a Ward. It's possible that being a Ward makes Sophia subject to federal laws but immune to state laws, though we don't know for sure. And even for adult federal agents, that only applies when on duty. At least on our Earth.

 

[preier]

honestly the whole situation is fucked. Emma has some type of PTSD she needed therapy. Madison is just juvenile if Taylor had ever stood up to her she would have stopped. Sophia is a tragic case because her shard made her like that she didn't choose to be this way. And you can't help her.

Click to shrink...

emma's father failed her (no idea if her mother even knew about the assault so i give her a pass)
the PRT and protectorate ridiculously failed Sophia. i mean, I consider that one of the most egregious case of Wildbow railroading his 'all authorities are incompetent ever everywhere'
madison... well that fucking school apparently failed every student that got there but that's one of the less unrealistic points.

 

[S.I.N]

emma's father failed her (no idea if her mother even knew about the assault so i give her a pass)
the PRT and protectorate ridiculously failed Sophia. i mean, I consider that one of the most egregious case of Wildbow railroading his 'all authorities are incompetent ever everywhere'
madison... well that fucking school apparently failed every student that got there but that's one of the less unrealistic points.

Click to shrink...

All incompetent all of them Calderon was the worst. The only character who knows what there doing is the simurgh

 

[OrigamiGuyII]

So Grayson is Victor right? I wonder if he was stealing Sophia's restraint before she jumped Madison... I could totally see him do that.

 

[Scopas]

Excellent chapter, Ack! I think this might be my favorite of your fics, and I really needed a good read to get my mind off a final. Thank you.

 

[Ack]

So Grayson is Victor right? I wonder if he was stealing Sophia's restraint before she jumped Madison... I could totally see him do that.

Click to shrink...

Yes, he is,
He was stealing everyone's critical thinking skills, and basically everything everyone was using to try to get out of it.

And yes, he was the reason Sophia did that stupid thing (and Emma, for that matter).

 

[Crazael]

Ah yes.. it was just as glorious as I expected.

It's possible to intellectually understand that you should be a nice person while having urges to be an asshole.

Sophia just chooses to be the asshole.

Click to shrink...

Sophia, like a great many capes, is in desperate need of therapy. Just like Emma. As for Madison, I've always seen her as the most innocent of the three. She's the least malicious and directly involved and is largely in it for the social position being part of Emma's inner circle gives her. She's still a terrible person, but she's the least bad off of the bunch, and the most likely to get better with time.

 

[1oldman]

Cheering for fucking Nazis just fuck you ack.

Click to shrink...

Yeh I know my ancestors are all looking at me funny no ha ha funny either
and a lawyer too I feel dirty


Ack good job as always

 

[RJ_The_Berg]

Part Five: Glorious Schadenfreude

Click to shrink...

Yes, please... MOAR!!

 

[Ack]

Taylor Hebert, Medhall Intern

Part Six: Stepping Up

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by GW_Yoda and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

When the police got there, Mr Grayson handled most of the talking. He seemed to positively enjoy explaining the situation that had required his presence, while Bradley stood in the background and kept an eye on Sophia. Dad had no problem with that, especially given that everything seemed to be going our way for once.

Once Mr Grayson explained to the officers what Sophia had been doing (and boy, the glare of death he got from Principal Blackwell was nothing to the one he got from Sophia) and they'd viewed the footage of her kicking the shit out of Greg, they took her into custody readily enough. The social worker stayed glued to her side and only said one thing to her: "Don't say anything to anyone."

Good advice, I figured. Pity she hadn't been there earlier.

Dad and I, sitting to one side, were spectators to all this until a plainclothes female officer approached us. "Good morning," she said in a voice that seemed to convey a certain amount of doubt as to how good it was going to be. "I'm Detective Temple. I understand you're one of the injured parties here?"

"That's me," I confirmed. "Taylor Hebert."

"Danny Hebert," Dad said, holding out his hand. "I'm her father."

Detective Temple shook it, then took out a notepad. "Now, this is more a formality than anything else, but every detail is good to have in a case like this. How long have you known Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes?"

I glanced at Dad momentarily. "How long have I known Emma? First grade? Before that?"

"At least that," he agreed. He nodded toward where Mr Barnes was talking earnestly to another officer. "Alan Barnes and I have known each other for nearly twenty years. Our daughters were best friends since they could walk and talk."

"Hm." Detective Temple made a note. "And Sophia Hess?"

I took a deep breath. "I wouldn't say I know her. I've never had a polite conversation with her, or an interaction that turned out well for me. The first time I met her was at Emma's. Emma told me to go away, that she was bored with our friendship, and Sophia tripped me as I was going out the gate. And that set the tone from then on."

"And when was this?" Detective Temple's pen scribbled on the pad.

It took me a moment to think back. "Just before the beginning of school, last year. Late August, after I got back from summer camp. I went over to see Emma right away, and she just … rejected me. Like she was a totally different person from the one I left behind. Harder. Harsher."

Scribble, scribble went the pen. I waited for the next question.

Detective Temple looked up from the pad. "Did you do anything to cause this? I understand friendships can break up by saying something that sounds innocent."

"No." I shook my head. "I've been over it a million times in my head. She'd had a haircut, kind of a pixie cut thing. It was new on her, but she totally made it work. So I said something about it, told her that it looked good on her. But she just looked at me like … like I wasn't her friend. Like I was a piece of dog crap she was scraping off her shoe. Told me she should've cut me loose years ago. She told me to go away, and Sophia said something mean and stuck her foot in front of me when I was going out the gate. I went home and cried for about a day, then I told myself that I'd see her in school and it would be all better."

"And it wasn't." The tone of Detective Temple's voice made it a statement, rather than a question.

I shook my head again. "She's always been popular. I've always been … not. Once she had her in-group sorted out, they started on me. Teasing me, stealing my stuff, sabotaging my homework. It just never stopped."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" Dad looked stricken. "If I'd known …"

"I am somewhat curious myself," Detective Temple agreed. "Why didn't you report it? To a teacher, if not to your father?"

I snorted with dark humour. "I did. They barely got punished. Then they started accusing me of what they were doing. I was just me. They all had friends who backed up each other's stories. And if I did get someone in trouble, they came at me twice as hard." I looked at Dad sadly. "And you were still getting over Mom. I thought I could handle it. Then I thought I could just tough it out. Then … I was too used to just taking it. I couldn't make the effort to do anything different."

The interview went on for a little longer. Detective Temple teased out a few more details, and got me to confirm that the pepper spray that Bradley had handed over was indeed mine. She nodded when Dad pointed out that he'd gotten it for my self-protection.

We were wrapping things up when she said to let her know if I thought of anything else to tell her. That was when I remembered. "Uh, I do have detailed notes of everything they've been doing to me since school started this year. Would that help?"

Detective Temple's eyes widened slightly. "Definitely. Written testimony is still testimony. How quickly can you get it to me?"

Dad seemed to come to a decision. "Well, I'm taking Taylor out of school for the day. How about you follow us home and Taylor can get it for you?"

"That should work. Just excuse me for a moment, please." Detective Temple went and spoke to another officer.

"How are things going with you?" Mr Grayson asked, apparently materialising out of nowhere. "I'd advise you to be careful about speaking with the police, but I suspect you've got that well in hand."

"Pretty good. Taylor's just given her statement to the detective, and she's got some written notes about the bullying at home." Dad ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Detective Temple's going to follow us home and pick it up."

"That sounds fine to me." He smiled and lowered his voice slightly. "Just make sure not to let her in if there's anything in view you don't want her to see. She might be here about the Hess girl, but the police are never not on duty, if you get my meaning."

"I hear that." Dad nodded toward where Mr Barnes was talking quietly to Emma, who was doing a lot of nodding. "Alan always said much the same thing."

"His daughter might have been a bad friend, but that's still good advice," said Mr Grayson. "So, Taylor, see you at work tomorrow?"

"Totally," I said. "I still can't thank you and Bradley enough for showing up when you did."

He smirked. "Just between you and me, we'd been out and about collecting evidence on what's been happening to you, and the school was actually our next stop. But it was absolutely our pleasure to be able to nip that sort of thing in the bud and make sure troublemakers like the Hess girl get what they deserve. Is it true you pepper-sprayed her?"

I nodded. "Yeah. She was trying to drag me off the bus when I was going to Medhall that one day."

He shook his head. "She didn't know who she was messing with, obviously. See you tomorrow." He held out his hand, and I shook it.

"Thanks," I said, feeling a flush come over me at the praise. "See you then."

He nodded in reply and turned to Dad. "It's been good to meet you, Danny. Take care of Taylor. You've got a real firebrand here. I can definitely see her being an asset to Medhall in the future."

"I'll do my best." Dad shook his hand, then looked at me as Mr Grayson walked away. "In the future, huh? So you think this intern job might be going somewhere?"

I was still riding the high from the compliments from the very well-accomplished Mr Grayson, but I managed to lower my voice a bit. "Um, don't tell anyone, but they said they're definitely thinking about giving me an actual paid position at the end of the month. Basically, doing what I'm doing now, but getting money for it."

His eyebrows rose. "Well, now. You must have impressed them. Good for you." I watched the first genuine smile of the day spread across his face as Detective Temple rejoined us.

"You look like you've got good news," she observed. "Anything I need to know about?"

"Not specifically, no," Dad said. "Mr Grayson just made sure Taylor knew her internship was still ongoing, despite all this." Which was true, if not exactly informative. Apparently, he'd taken Mr Grayson's advice to heart. I didn't think that the news of me getting a paid position at Medhall would prejudice my case, but I supposed it didn't hurt the police not to know that.

While I was still musing about that, we went out to the car. I belted myself in and Dad drove us both home. We didn't talk much on the way there, but I could tell Dad was thinking deeply about stuff. That suited me; so was I.

We pulled up in the driveway at home, and Detective Temple parked on the side of the road. Dad gave me the house key and went to chat with her as I headed up to the front door and let myself in. The pages were held together with a bulldog clip, stashed in my room under a spare Christmas sweater that was way too garish for me to even consider wearing. It took me less than a minute to run up the stairs, get to my room, and retrieve them. I came back a little more slowly; Dad and Detective Temple both looked around as I exited the front door.

"So is this it?" she asked, reaching out for it.

"Jesus Christ, what's Emma been doing?" Dad blurted out at the same time, looking at the number of pages I had clipped together. He turned to the detective. "I'm going to need a receipt and a copy of that, as soon as you can make one. Whether Alan likes it or not, I need to show him exactly what Emma's been up to."

"I can give you a receipt right now." She was leafing through the pages as she spoke. "But I can't give you the copy until after the case goes through. This is material evidence of a whole series of crimes. Mr Barnes will be seeing it, but from our hands. As I understand it, his daughter has agreed to testify on Taylor's behalf. We're going to need to go through this with her to see if there's any she wishes to contest, and he's already stated he wants to be in the room."

"She won't contest a damn thing." Dad's tone was certain. "Alan will crawl over hot coals to protect his daughter. Any man would. Anything that'll give her a chance to walk away from this, he'll take. And with her and Madison singing a duet …" He shook his head. "I would not want to be in Sophia's shoes right now."

"Okay, so I get it that Emma gets to go to Boston and I never see her face again, and Madison probably gets some sort of deal in return for dropping a dime too, but will Sophia at least get punished?" I didn't want to sound like a sadist, but someone needed to pay for the shit I'd been through. "Juvenile detention or whatever?"

"That's very specifically not for me to say," Detective Temple said. "The courts handle that sort of thing. Depending on the level of cooperation and remorse shown, the other two might get suspended sentences, or they might end up serving a little juvey time. But yes, someone is going down, and my gut—and what's in here—says that Sophia Hess is not going to be able to avoid being in the line of fire."

She meticulously counted the pages, noting the email printouts I'd done, and wrote out a receipt for the sheets while I numbered and initialled each one in front of her. Then she handed over the receipt and I gave her the sheaf of pages.

"You know, I've seen people sink themselves before," she said conversationally as she got into her car. "There was this one guy who robbed a convenience store, then got mugged when he stopped in an alley to count his take. So he showed up at the local precinct to report the mugging, just as we were viewing the security footage and putting together a description of him. But between what's on the recordings, two separate people rolling over on her, several eyewitnesses to a violent assault and a written record of her misdeeds …" She laughed out loud. "The angel Gabriel himself couldn't get her out of this."

<><>​

PRT ENE

Director Emily Piggot

The first thing Emily knew about the new situation was the report that had been emailed to her. It was a standard arrangement with the Brockton Bay PD; if certain names came up, their systems automatically notified the PRT's systems. They didn't get to view the names, of course. It was all encrypted. But a name had come into the switch room, and police had been dispatched to the scene.

The name was Sophia Hess.

Emily still didn't know exactly what had happened—the initial call had only named names and mentioned a violent altercation, but given no more details—so she'd messaged the PRT officer who'd been assigned as Hess' handler. A message had come back to the effect that Bright was on the way, as Hess had already contacted her. More messages followed: that she was at Winslow; that Sophia was unharmed and her secret identity was intact; that some other girls had acted out and she'd been caught up in the situation, and finally that she was going to ride in a police car with Sophia to the precinct.

Some may have been lulled into thinking it wasn't a problem; after all, Hess' minder was right there and didn't seem to be concerned. But Emily had learned long ago that any sort of unexpected situation with a cape (especially a Ward) had the potential to blow out into a full-blown crisis at the drop of a domino mask. Which was why she was trying to ring Blackwell herself, if only to get the full picture. Unfortunately, Blackwell didn't seem to be picking up.

This still put it into the 'absence of news' category, rather than bad news, but Emily didn't trust it in the slightest. Once Bright was able to walk Hess out of the precinct station and get her back to the PRT building, they would both be conveyed directly to Emily's office, because the Director was supposed to be the first person in the know, not the last.

All she could do was hope that Hess didn't do anything stupid before then.

<><>​

In the Back of a Police Car

Undercover PRT Officer Kirsten Bright

"Not fuckin' fair."

Sophia's mumble might have gone unnoticed if it wasn't for the uncomfortable silence in the back of the car. However, Kirsten heard it loud and clear. Worse, she reacted by glancing at Sophia, who looked challengingly back at her. Which meant she now had to notice it.

"What do you mean by that, Sophia?" she asked quietly, hoping the girl would take the hint and keep her voice down. The last thing she wanted or needed was a spontaneous confession in front of a pair of police officers.

"It's bullshit, is what I mean." Sophia's voice was still low, but there was an edge of steel in it now. "They can't just set that shit up like that and get me arrested. That shit doesn't happen to me. I hope Piggy calls the Triumvirate on them. It's gotta be illegal."

"Now's not the time to debate legality." Kirsten hoped the cops weren't listening closely enough to catch the reference to Director Piggot. "That's for when you appear in court. If we can prove—"

"Court?" Sophia shook her head. "Fuck that. I do more to keep this city safe than any three other capes, and they're gonna put me on trial for this trivial shit? No way. Not an option."

"Sophia, calm down," whispered Kirsten. Don't be listening, don't be listening … "It looks bad, sure, but we're a lot better off keeping our heads and not doing anything—"

"No, you fuckin' calm down," Sophia retorted. "I'm sick of this shit. I'm done." Before Kirsten's disbelieving eyes, she misted through the cuffs just as the car slowed to perform a turn. Changing to her Breaker form, she dived out through the door, then changed back just in time to yank the back door of the police car open and slam it again.

"Hey, what the fuck?" yelled the cop riding shotgun as he craned his neck to stare into the back seat of the car, now minus Sophia. "The kid got out! How'd the kid get out?"

"Crap!" The driver reacted, screeching the car to a halt and throwing Kirsten into the back of his seat. "Get after her! She's in cuffs, she can't get far."

As the other one jumped out and ran back toward the corner, Kirsten knew they didn't have a chance in hell of catching up with Sophia. Even without her powers, it would've been doubtful. With them, she was in the wind the moment she got two yards away from the car. Opening and closing the door was a nice touch, drawing attention away from the fact that she'd used powers to get through it.

The driver got out and opened the door to let Kirsten out of the car. She hadn't been charged with anything, after all. "What happened?" he asked, his voice harsh. "How'd she get that damn door open?"

"Well, it was opened from the outside, obviously," Kirsten said. She'd already checked—as Sophia no doubt had as well—and the tiny camera lens that was supposed to record everything in the back seat was dull and dark, with no LED to show it was in service. A typical state of affairs for the Brockton Bay Police Department, all told. "Do you think maybe she had an accomplice?" Lying to the cops was an offence, but asking a hypothetical question was not the same as making a statement. Her actual statement to Director Piggot was going to be a lot more uncomfortable now, thanks in every way to Shadow Stalker and her amazing lack of self-control.

She wondered if it was too early to start dusting off her resumé …

<><>​

Hookwolf

"Y'know," mused Bradley as Alexander expertly guided the car through the late-morning traffic, "It was kinda lucky that the little cow went off the rails like she did, to make it an open-and-shut case." He shot the other man a suspicious glance. "But it wasn't just luck, was it?"

Alexander smirked as he speared the car through a gap that should by rights have been too small for it. "Well, lucky's one word for it. Personally, I've always believed a man should make his own luck."

"Fuckin' thought so," Bradley said accusingly. "You were workin' on all of 'em there, weren't you? Blackwell, that little brunette, the redhead …"

The smirk turned into a chuckle. "It can get so tedious waiting for your adversary to make a mistake, when it's the work of a few moments to draw down his or her critical thinking and their ability to make a reasoned judgement. They won't even lose them permanently, though that Hess girl won't be running on all cylinders for a while. After what she tried to pull, I hit her hard."

"Might be longer than you think," Bradley said thoughtfully. "She gimme the impression of someone who thinks with her fists. Sorta person who figures rules are for other people."

Alexander laughed out loud. "What, like you and me … Hookwolf?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Fuckin' smartass. No, I mean, she's someone who'll go against all the rules, even the ones we agree to between ourselves. I mean, there's gotta be rules at some point. She came across as the sort of little bitch who'd kick over the apple cart just to see shit going down, know what I mean?"

"Hm." Alexander rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You may be right. Still, it's not exactly our problem. She's going directly to juvenile detention, exactly where her kind belongs. We've done our good deed for the day and all is well with the world."

<><>​

The first Emily knew about the disappearance of Sophia Hess was when the automated email dropped into her inbox. She clicked on it, opened it and absorbed the header all in one smooth action. Then she actually took in the body of the email.

She froze.

Then she read the email again.

"What the fuck?"

More profanity was lining up to be spoken as she reached for her phone. It would have to wait; she had to talk to people, and while swearing at the top of her lungs was invariably cathartic, the signal-to-noise ratio was unacceptably low. But there were some choice utterances she was going to relish using later, especially when she got the chance to speak to those idiots who had convinced her to give Shadow Stalker a place on the team.

She went into her phone directory and selected Bright, Kirsten. Because she always made damn sure that her contacts list was properly formatted. And then she hit the little green icon.

"Answer my phone, you little weasel," she muttered. "Or I swear, I will activate the GPS and track you down—ah, Ms Bright! Just the person I wanted to talk to. No, I actually do not care where you are or who you were talking to. You are talking to me, right now. I want to know what the hell happened with Hess, post haste. You know what post haste means? No? It means drop what you're doing and be in my office FIVE FUCKING MINUTES AGO! Do I make myself absolutely clear? Good." She shut the call off with a vicious stab at the red icon, then sat back in her chair.

There was a very good chance that Shadow Stalker was no longer a Ward. She would make the final decision on that after she'd heard from the Bright woman (and from Blackwell, whenever she chose to answer her damn phone) about what was going on there.

The final question after that would be exactly how much in the way of resources Emily was prepared to dedicate toward recapturing Hess so that the little delinquent could be delivered safely to juvenile detention.

For that, she'd just have to wait and see what the Bright twit said.

<><>​

Wednesday Morning

Taylor

The next half-day at school was … different. There were several girls, and one or two guys, who normally had a habit of sneering at me or bumping me in the halls. They'd clearly heard something about what happened, but not all the details, or what the fallout had been. Having police come to the school was not exactly an unusual occurrence, but they rarely came for someone as prominent as Emma, or even Sophia or Madison. None of them had come back to Winslow, which only heightened the mystery for their cronies. Greg wasn't there either, but nobody else seemed to notice his absence.

After Mrs Knott's class was World Affairs. Madison wasn't there, of course, but Julia was. For the first half of the class, she shot me an occasional puzzled glance, but I could tell she was building up the nerve to act on her own. Finally, about an hour in, she cleared her throat and raised her hand.

"Mr G," she said. "I need to sharpen my pencil."

"Certainly, Julia," he said, then turned toward her. "You will not pass by Miss Hebert's desk. If you do anything whatsoever to interfere with her scholastic experience, I will be sending you to Principal Blackwell's office for immediate punishment. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

Julia stopped moving when she was still only halfway to her feet. Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. "Mr G?"

"You heard me." I'd never heard that tone from him before. It was a welcome experience, like he was actually being a teacher for about the first time ever. "And it's Mr Gladly. Do you still need to sharpen your pencil?"

"Oooh," murmured some of the kids around me. "Burned," whispered others.

Julia heard them and her face turned red. "No," she mumbled, and sat down again.

"Good," he announced, and faced the class. "It's come to the attention of the faculty that some of you are in the habit of bullying others. That will cease immediately. Anyone violating this prohibition will find themselves in detention or even suspended from class. Does anyone not understand this?"

Nobody said a word, then to my surprise one hand went up. I was even more surprised when I saw who it was. So was Mr Gladly. "What is it, Sparky?" he asked. I was pretty sure this wasn't intended to be funny; it was indicative of the fact that nobody in the room could remember Sparky's real name. Quite possibly not even himself.

"Uh … I was wondering where Greg was," he mumbled. "Did he get sent to the office?" Did I miss something? was what he didn't say, but we all heard it anyway.

"No," Mr Gladly said curtly. "He's also been a victim of bullying. Yesterday, Sophia Hess beat him up in front of several witnesses. He's currently recuperating at home."

"Oh." Sparky put his hand down.

Mr Gladly raised his eyebrows. "Now, did anyone else have any questions? No? Good. As I was saying, it's a common misconception that the downtick in shipping trade is due to Leviathan attacking ships at sea. Can anyone point out the actual reason for this …?"

The class went on. Mr Gladly took a brief phone call outside the room, then came back and continued the lesson. Julia was looking at me, as though wondering how I'd suddenly acquired bulletproof status. I didn't acknowledge her because I didn't feel like explaining exactly what had happened, even if I'd been free to do just that.

When the bell rang for lunch, I picked up my backpack (which had my entire work outfit in it, carefully ironed and folded) and walked out of the classroom. I didn't know if he'd done that because of a sudden urge to be a competent human being for once, or if Blackwell had given the entire faculty a thorough reaming after what had happened the day before. My money was on column B, but to be honest I didn't care. I would be transferring to Arcadia just as soon as they could force it through, and I'd be free of this shithole forever, and everyone in it.

The bus ride into the city was almost peaceful. I was able to shake off the mild depression that even thinking about Winslow got me into as I wondered what work Tracey would have for me today. I'd finally eighty-sixed the last of those paper files (much to her genuine satisfaction) so I was looking forward to a new challenge. Mr Grayson and Bradley had stepped up for me. I wanted to give something back.

When I got off at the bus stop, I encountered a welcome surprise. Greg, looking a little bruised and banged up but still on his feet, was waiting for me. "Oh, hey," I said. "Wow, you look like the quarterback in our last game against Arcadia after the entire team ran over him."

"Yeah, I kinda feel that way too," he agreed. "My bruises have got bruises, but there's no way I'm gonna risk losing this internship. How'd it go yesterday, with Mr Grayson and Bradley? I went home after the nurse checked me over and said I probably didn't have a concussion. Mom went apeshit and refused to let me come to school today." He mimed a tear trickling down his cheek. "I was totally cut up about that, let me tell you."

I snorted and punched him lightly on the shoulder, trying for someplace without a bruise. He winced anyway, the wuss. "I just bet. Yeah, they totally took charge. But thanks for showing up when you did. You saved me from something really nasty." Leaning in, I gave him another kiss on the cheek. "You should've seen it. Mr Grayson did sneaky lawyer shit and Madison totally caved. Then Sophia jumped her and beat the living shit out of her, and Bradley hauled her off then gave her a smack in the mouth when she wouldn't stay put. It was amazing."

"Aw, damn it," he complained. "I miss out on all the good stuff." But he rubbed at where I'd kissed him, and the tiny little smile on his face said he was pretty happy about that bit. "So give me all the details. What happened after you guys dropped me at the nurse?"

"Well, you should've seen Blackwell's face …" I began as we headed in through the front doors of Medhall. We paused briefly while we swiped ourselves in using our cards, then kept going after we got through, heading for the elevators.

"Uh, Mr Veder?" That was Burt, one of the guys on security at the front desk.

He stopped and turned around. I paused as well, wanting to see what was going on. "Uh, yeah, what's up? Did I do something wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," Burt assured him. "I was instructed to tell you to go to Miss Hebert's floor before you report for work, that's all." He gave us both a nod and a tight smile, then went back to watching the screens.

"Okay, sure, thanks." Greg glanced at me. "What's that about?"

I shrugged. "No idea. Let's go see."

We got in the elevator and rode up to my floor. Bradley was standing at his post nearby when we stepped out; he nodded toward us both. "Miss Hebert. Mr Veder."

"Good afternoon, Bradley," I said with a smile. "Thanks again for yesterday."

"Yeah," Greg said. "That was really great, what you did."

Bradley snorted slightly, giving the (probably accurate) impression that the whole thing hadn't even amounted to light exercise for him. "You're the one who took the lumps, kid, not me. Gotta say, you got guts. I mean, you got your ass handed to you, but you got guts to jump in there anyway."

"The worst thing is, I got beat up by a girl," Greg said morosely. "I mean, jocks push me around anyway, and I guess she's a jock and all, but still, a girl."

"Hey, don't go thinking girls aren't all that," Bradley pointed out. "Friend of mine called Melody, she's one of the toughest people I know. Girls can kick ass too."

"Thanks, Bradley." I gave him another smile. "Well, we gotta go and see what's up."

We found out about a minute later. As I entered the workspace I shared with Tracey, I saw that Justin was there, along with Mr Grayson and a young woman only a few years older than me. They all turned and started clapping, which caused Greg and me to both stop in our tracks.

"Hail the conquering heroes," Justin said with a cheesy grin. Tracey elbowed him in the side, which he ignored. "Nicely done, both of you."

"Greg did all the 'doing'," I protested. "I just stood there and watched."

"Not so," Mr Grayson corrected me. "As I understand it, you got in a few licks yourself. A punch in the mouth and an elbow to the head?"

"I guess, but …" I pointed at Greg. "He's the real hero."

"I got my ass kicked," Greg said. "Some hero I am. Mr Grayson and Bradley were the ones who saved the day."

"We can kick the credit around all day," Mr Grayson said with a chuckle. "Let's just agree that it was a team effort and go with that. Taylor, Greg, you haven't met my wife Diane, have you?"

"Uh, no," I said. Stepping forward, I held out my hand. "Taylor Hebert. I'm really pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," she said, shaking my hand and then Greg's. "I'm usually in the nurse's station in the infirmary. If either of you start feeling problems from the beating you were in yesterday, don't hesitate to come see me. Okay?"

"Totally," I said. "But I didn't get much of a beating. Greg suffered the worst of it."

Greg shook his head. "I'm not gonna lie. Last night I wanted to curl up in a hole. It still hurts, so I'll keep that in mind."

"Good idea," declared Justin. "Well, I've got to jet. I'll be back to steal your coffee, Taylor."

"Yeah, I just bet." I shook my head. The man was incorrigible, but I couldn't help liking him.

Mr Grayson turned to me. "Before I go as well, were there any problems at school today?"

"None at all," I assured him. "Someone went to try, but Mr Gladly shut her down. For the first time ever. I think she was in shock."

He assumed a totally evil expression and steepled his fingers. "Excellent," he purred.

I stifled a giggle and shook my head. "Wow, all you need is a Bond villain base and a fluffy white Persian cat to stroke, and you'd be a classic movie villain."

"And that's never happening," Diane noted. "Not unless he wants to sleep on the couch in his Bond villain base. Nice meeting you two."

"Ah, the one who wears the pants has spoken," Mr Grayson said with all good cheer. "I'll see you at another time, Taylor. Take care, Gregory."

It was kind of quiet in the office after they'd left. Greg looked at me and I looked at him. "Well, I suppose I should go and get some work done," he said a little awkwardly. "Those plant rooms aren't going to inspect themselves, after all."

"Yeah, good point," I said. "See you later, Greg."

"See you later, Taylor."

I watched him go, then went into the little break room, got out the iron and took the few creases out of my prepacked work clothing. With a quick splash of water on my face to freshen up, I changed in the restroom.

"Nice," Tracey said as I came out. "You're looking very chipper today, even with that bruise on your cheek. Alexander told me what went down at that ridiculous school you attend. How are you feeling about it?"

"I'm doing great," I assured her, and I didn't have to lie even a little bit. "I think yesterday was their all-out attempt to stick it to me. I've got this internship, they know they can't take it away from me, so they were doubling down at school. But in a way, they did me a huge favour. Because of what Emma did, her dad is now pressuring the school hard to get me transferred to Arcadia. Sophia's been arrested, and Madison's off sick and testifying against Sophia, like Emma is. So everything's looking up."

She smiled brilliantly. "That's really good to hear. I was shocked and surprised to get the phone call from Greg yesterday, and I'm glad it all turned out well. He really thinks a lot of you; you know that, don't you?"

"Who, Greg?" That was something I hadn't ever spent much time thinking about. Greg was just there, part of the furniture. More recently, I'd started thinking of him as a friend. But she had a point; he'd really been stepping up for me recently. "Yeah, I guess. He's a nice guy, once you get past the un-housebroken puppy aspect."

She stifled a snort of amusement. "You'll find that many teenage boys have much the same issue. He had a bad start, but he seems to be finding his feet and learning responsibility. I think you might be being just a little harsh on the boy."

"I'll keep that in mind," I decided. "So, what's on the docket for today?"

"Well, seeing as you finished off our usual make-work project, I found something else for you to do. It's an employee audit. Sometimes, glitches creep into the system and people get transferred into two different departments at once, or the details of their security clearances fall through the cracks. It's actually not unknown for a department to be dissolved, and someone to not be transferred to a new one. They show up, sit at their desk, and go home. Pay comes through, but they never do any work, because nobody's actually in charge of them."

"I could name people who would consider that their dream job," I said dryly. "But sure, I can do that." I went to sit at my desk, and saw the scanner still beside me. A sinking feeling developed in my stomach. "Oh, wait. Are these files …"

"On paper, yes." Tracey might or might not have had a smirk on her face as she went and got a cardboard carton of yet more manila folders. "This is why we can't just ask the system to arrange them all by hair colour or whatever. You need to enter them, and see where they slot into the system, and make sure the current system isn't being problematic due to a misplaced comma or something."

"Okay, then." It was a little more open-ended than my last task, but I supposed Tracey had learned she could trust me to work until I got it done. Which, of course, I intended to. Medhall had been nothing but good to me, and I wanted it to succeed. And if scanning in employee records and then cross-checking them against existing records was going to be my part of that, then that was what I was going to do. "Let's get this going. But first … coffee."

While the scanner was warming up, I went and made three cups of coffee. One for Tracey, the way she liked it, one for me and one for Justin when he mysteriously appeared in the doorway mere seconds after I'd poured it for him. Either he had a parahuman power that allowed him to detect when coffee was being made, or he was in the habit of waiting around just near our office space until the smell of fresh coffee came wafting down the corridor. Neither one would've surprised me overmuch.

Thus fortified, I tuned out Justin's flirting with Tracey and examined the setup Tracey had sent to my terminal. I could see how the files were entered; checking the first manila folder, it was easy to see that the paper files were laid out in the same way. It took a little experimentation, but I found I could scan the pages and then overlay that on the employee database input section. The scanner still had a tiny bias to the right, but I just had to allow for that. After a few minor hiccups, I found myself going smoothly, setting aside each folder as I finished with it.

We stopped for lunch, and I chatted with Tracey over my pita bread wrap and juice-box. She listened to my first-hand account of what had happened in the school, and agreed that I really did need to get out of there as soon as possible.

After lunch, I finished the last of the employee files. Tracey had given me a checklist to cover, and I started going through with it. I found I could sort and check people by employee number and Social Security number, as well as any other data that could be applied to a sorting algorithm. As I went through, I learned to access the dates they started at Medhall, and other information about their security clearances. It was thoroughly fascinating, and I learned a lot about how databases worked.

I was totally immersed in the work when Tracey said my name. Shaking my head, I looked around at her. "Sorry, I was just trying to chase something down. What's up?"

She grinned at me, clearly used to my little ways by now. "Ten to three, Taylor. You might want to start packing things up so you can go home."

"Okay, sure. I'll just do a few more, then call it quits for the day." I settled back down in front of the terminal and resumed my study of the current employee on my screen. His attendance record was up to date, there were no black marks against his name, he'd joined Medhall on that date …

I paused. Something was tapping at my brain. I was missing an important detail.

Carefully, I went back through the last few ones I'd done. When I spotted what had been bothering me, I did a quick sort, and looked at the result.

"Tracey," I said hesitantly. "I don't know if this is a thing, but I just found something that looks weird to me."

"Well, tell me what it is and I'll let you know if it's a thing or not," she said immediately. Getting up, she came around to where I was sitting.

"I nearly missed this," I confessed. "But I did a sort based on social security, and this guy and a few others …" I pointed at the screen. "Their numbers are consecutive."

She blinked. "That can't be right. And if it's right, it can't be good."

"Also, some of them are down as having provided security clearance for some of the others," I ventured.

That definitely got her attention. "That's a big tick on the 'not good' column." She waved me out of the chair, so I went and made her a cup of coffee while she worked. When I brought it back, she looked up at me, her expression serious. "This is huge, Taylor. Can you wait back a while? I need to go up the chain for this."

I nodded. "Totally."

We weren't kept waiting long. Ms Harcourt arrived in less than two minutes, sweeping into the office space like a battleship into enemy waters. She gave me a very brief nod of acknowledgement, then turned to Tracey. "Talk to me."

Tracey made way for Ms Harcourt, then talked her through what I'd discovered. Ms Harcourt checked a few of the numbers and examined the details of the employees thus uncovered, then looked up at me. "This is how you found them?" she asked bluntly.

"Absolutely, ma'am," I confirmed. "As soon as I saw they were in sequence, I told Tracey."

"Good work, both of you," she said, then took out her phone.

Tracey and I stepped away while she made a call. "Does that mean what I think it does?" I asked in a whispered undertone, pointing at the computer terminal.

"That you just found a bunch of moles and probably saved Medhall hundreds of thousands of dollars? Yeah, absolutely." Tracey put her arm around my shoulders and hugged me tightly. "I'm totally proud of you, Taylor."

"Wow," I said. "I can't believe it."

Inside, I felt amazing. Medhall had stepped up for me, and now I had the chance to step up for Medhall.

I love my job.



End of Part Six

 

[SamueLewis]

Consecutive social security numbers... Coil, you are so dumb it's sad

 

[ScyBlade]

At first I was concerned that Kaiser dun did a stupid regarding certain hiring practices. Thank you SamueLewis for providing an alternate explanation.

 

[OrigamiGuyII]

heheh this chapter is reminding me of Deputy Taylor saving the day through conscientious pattern recognition

Also, is it just me, or was that conversation about getting a cat and bond villain lair potentially foreshadowing coil's defeat and asset redirection?

 

[Crazael]

Amusingly, while they are definitely a red flag, consecutive SSNs is exactly what would happen if that group all became U.S. citizens together.

 

[S.I.N]

At first I was concerned that Kaiser dun did a stupid regarding certain hiring practices. Thank you SamueLewis for providing an alternate explanation.

Click to shrink...

Remember Kaiser isn't racist himself he is frankly just taking advantage of the Nazi power base he would definitely hire other races for medhal and claim it's to keep a good image.