26

Chapter Text

THU FEB 24

"Hey, Gram." I muttered, slipping my bag off and setting it down by the couch.

"I am rather angry with you." She stated, her tone deceptively calm. I could feel her frustration, worry and indignation giving way to relief as she inspected me and found me whole and well. She glanced back down, her finger running over the tablet's screen a few times, punctuated by a couple of careful taps. She didn't seem entirely comfortable using it, from what I could feel. I could see her as the sort of person who'd find herself determined to learn newer more useful tools, despite habits or preconceptions. Then again, it could just be that she found the larger screen easier to deal with than a smartphone. Her cell phone was a sturdy-looking flip model, after all. "However…" she said, pausing to stare at the screen for a moment before turning it towards me. It looked like a forum thread, maybe PHO. There was an image embedded in one of the posts, and I could tell even from here that it was a scene of the Canberra cleanup efforts. It was a picture of me, holding two or three dozen of tons of stone- spread across thousands of chunks- in the air. "…I am also very proud of you."

Any attempt at finding an excuse for my actions she'd accept caught in my throat. She was proud of me. More than any lack of lie to her words, actually recognizing it in her emotions struck me to a state of shocked stupefaction. It was only after uselessly working my jaw for a few seconds that I realized my eyes were starting to tear up. I almost missed Dad coming in to check on me for himself, before sighing and going back to the kitchen. I glanced after him, startling back to action and scrubbing at my face. Gram was considerately pretending to ignore me for the moment. "Thanks." I muttered, once I was done.

She nodded. "This is a magnificent PR coup. It hasn't been a day, and Terraform is already the talk of several web sites and news agencies." She nodded to the television, which I'd been ignoring. My earth senses couldn't tell what was on screens, and unless I had a reason to focus on them, they just didn't seem important. It was one of the local news stations, talking about me. The fact that I'd missed it when it was just out of sight made me think I needed to prioritize giving screens more actual-eyes priority in the future. "Fame and results will give you a reputation, and a solid reputation over time becomes influence. This will likely have a positive effect on recruitment efforts going forward, as well as improve your position in any negotiations you and your team find yourselves involved in."

That… didn't feel right. "But I was there to save people." I insisted. "I didn't do it to be famous." I'd wanted to do good, look good doing it, and I'd wanted a reputation for doing good. The way she was framing reputations and influence just sounded so… manipulative to me. I didn't like it.

She turned back to me from the TV, drawing in a slow breath as she bored into me with those calculating eyes. "And were it anyone else, I would look at this, think a few good thoughts about a job well done, say a prayer for this good Samaritan and those poor souls left in that city, and move on with my day." She pointed her finger back at the tablet, back at the picture of Terraform in action. "But they are not you. You are my priority. Over any stranger, any city, any people." I could feel the conviction in her words as she spoke, staring so intensely into my eyes she was nearly glaring. "There is nothing still on God's green Earth I would save before you, if only I could."

I stepped back away from her, and she faltered slightly. She took another breath and looked away. I was at a loss for what to say after that, and simply waited.

"I am sorry." She said after another few moments. "You want to be a hero. You want to save people, change things for the better." She turned her eyes back to mine. "But to do the most good, you must use everything you have to your advantage. That includes things you may find distasteful, like fame or influence."

It still felt wrong, but good ends sometimes justified things. I just didn't like it because I couldn't help but imagining myself on the other side, being the manipulated. "I don't even know how."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Are you unwilling to learn?" I flinched at the accusation of willful ignorance. No one in our family was fond of that trait, myself included. Gram shook her head. "Your team will likely need someone focused on public relations, whether that's a member, or a civilian contracted for it." She turned her attention back to the tablet. "Fame and reputation can be turned against you, made into notoriety, but I don't believe that is likely, at the moment. We have some time."

"Alright." I stood there for a bit, awkwardly waiting, before deciding to sit down. I knew I was high-strung after the day I'd had, but I was starting to think I needed a break to myself to rest and sleep more than I'd thought. Dad finished up the food, a stew in the crock pot and a casserole in the oven, it looked like. Then he came back around to peek into the living room where we were again. "Hey, dad."

He flinched, then continued fully into the room. "Hey, Taylor." He was anxious and worried, but less than he had been. There was a cocktail of self-conscious emotions underlying everything. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," I gave him a weary smile. "I'm tired, but I'm fine."

"Good." He nodded. "That's good. I..." He shook his head with a small grimace. "Dinner'll be ready in about an hour, figured you'd want to eat early." I nodded, and he returned it. "Well, I'll... be upstairs if you need me."

He fled slowly up the stairs, and I stared after him in confusion. I turned to Gram, who was still pretending to ignore it. I didn't think I'd get an answer if I asked her what that was about, so I just shook my head and slumped further back into my seat.

A couple minutes later, Gram nodded to herself, apparently satisfied with her information gathering. I'd been watching the TV, reading the info ribbon at the bottom, as well as the text boxes and trying to read lips to get a better grasp of what exactly was being said. "Have you made a decision about the Medhall meeting?"

I blinked and stared, slightly startled that I'd forgotten. "I think so, but… I think there's something you need to know, first." I couldn't just let her walk blindly into trouble when telling her might help. Being there might make me feel a little better about it, and she did want me to start learning business things… She was confused, but nodded for me to continue. "I'm pretty sure that… Medhall's run by Kaiser. It explains how the Empire's so entrenched in the city, and well-funded, despite not really doing much besides hate crimes."

"Anders?" I thought the name was right, so I nodded. She pondered the information, before continuing. "How certain are you, of this?"

"The… uh." How to tell your grandmother you're involved with shadowy espionage groups. "The person I got the information from was very confident in it." Arthur hadn't seemed to be lying, and Sue trusted him. I couldn't think of a good reason for them to lie to me, or arrange a way to fool the senses they hadn't asked about. "I believe it."

She was suspicious, but I'm not sure I blamed her for it. Still, she nodded. "That's going to change things."

"So we're not going?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head. "No, very little of our interactions with them will change. I arranged to be at the meeting, changing that would draw attention. If this is true," I could tell she wasn't entirely convinced yet, but was entertaining the notion seriously all the same. "it will change how we approach the city as a whole, and its criminal elements." She paused, closing her eyes in thought and leaning forward slightly. Her fingers tapped away at each other for a few moments before she shook her head. "It's going to take a lot of thought to decide how to prepare for this situation, we cannot attack Medhall directly, they're one of the few large employers propping up the city's economy. Any attempt to weaken this Empire through their links to the company could be construed as trying to remove even more of the city's jobs and income." She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "The loss of medical tourism alone would set the city's administration against us."

"Medical tourism?"

She smirked at my confusion. "There are several kinds of tourism, but medical tourism is where you travel to a different city, state, country… for their medical specialists. Some travel because the cost of procedures are much lower than locally, and so the travel and medical expenses combined come out to be less than if they'd stayed. Others go to the most expensive and experienced specialists for a higher average chance of recovery. While they're there, they or their families are staying around the city, spending money. Hence the industry built around it." She waved her hand vaguely south, in the direction of the Towers and the nicer part of the city. "Medhall owns and operates several specialized clinics, as well as the Anders Memorial Hospital."

Everyone I knew just went to Brockton General, and I guess that was why, if the other option was some specialist setup. "What do they do?"

"Mostly Oncology and Immunology, they're trying to break into Neurology and degenerative diseases, but haven't managed to start pulling from out of state there, yet." Gram paused to think again. "I wasn't informed of any other businesses involved owned by them, so I believe the rest of the tourist industry is owned by other local families." She waved her hand and smirked. "Speaking of local businesses, if you are still intending to accompany me to Medhall or other ventures…?" I nodded, and she continued. "Then would I be wrong to assume you are currently lacking in proper business attire?"

Wait, did she mean… like a suit? "Maaaybe?" I trailed off, cautiously.

She huffed out a small sigh through her nose, and nodded. "We'll have to fix that. Impressions are very important, especially first ones. I'm fairly certain there are a couple options we can make appointments with for fittings and tailoring."

My mind immediately jumped to Parian. "Aaactually… I kind of have a preferred… tailor?" Gram hummed and quirked a brow. I could tell she was humoring me. "There's a rogue, an independent cape, who works with clothes. She's the one making my costumes and… I might owe her a little, for some help recently?" I grimaced a bit. That felt pretty weak, especially with how unsure I sounded presenting it.

Gram hummed and thought for a moment, instead of dismissing it outright. "Tell me more."

I sighed a little, as anxious tension flowed out. "She has her own store near the Boardwalk, I think it's a recent thing. Her power lets her control cloth and threads, and small objects like needles. She uses her power to hand-make clothes, about as fast as someone could with machines, I think." I shook my head, feeling slightly frustrated with the less useful tangent. "She's taking advantage of the Bay's cape tourism, to sell cape-made things."

"And she is doing well for herself?"

I could tell she wanted details, but I wasn't sure which details were important. "Well, she has her store, and a floor full of clothes to sell, and at least a couple employees…" I was struggling to remember if I'd actually seen anyone buy anything while I was there during business hours. I hadn't been paying any particular attention to the checkstand, since I'd bypassed it. "She doesn't seem too stressed or worried about her business, though." Busy, yes, but I hadn't noticed any desperation in our negotiations. It was a little awkward, but I still thought I was probably her first cape client. There couldn't be that many non-government capes besides New Wave who could spare something like a thousand dollars a costume. Mine were cheaper, but the materials I wanted were comparatively cheap, and the design fairly simple, and my bill reflected that. It's not like I was jumping into fights in fine silk like a crazy person.

"She does commissions and rush orders?"

I hesitated. "Yes and… I think so? Why does that matter?"

She gave a small sigh. "Medhall's board meetings are the first Monday of each month, the next will be on March 7th. There are other meetings before that one, however. Less significant business prospects, but ones you're likely to interact with more often than Medhall." Gram shook her head. "It would be preferable to have you involved with them from the start, rather than handing the reigns over later, as it were. I doubt the stores I'm thinking of would take more than a day to finish your business attire, which would more readily enable this."

I didn't want to just give up, but I couldn't refute her point. "I want to at least check with her, first. If she can't get it done in time, we can go somewhere else?"

She hummed and nodded. "I'll set up an appointment. Are you busy tomorrow, or over the weekend?"

Well, I did have the Friday training with Kara, Amy, and maybe Cass, along with the rest… and I really shouldn't put telling Vicky off any more than I already had. That seemed like a good day for it, if she wasn't busy. Stuff with Dinah didn't seem to last too long past lunch these days, and I wasn't sure bringing Amy along would change that. "I think I'm busy tomorrow, but Saturday afternoon on, and all of Sunday I'm free."

Gram shook her head ruefully. "Sunday mornings aren't for work, dear." I didn't refute it, but also didn't believe it. At least she wasn't pushing, or trying to get me to go to church or something. "I'll schedule a fitting in the afternoon over the weekend. Now, most of these meetings will happen during business hours, which overlap heavily with school hours. Your father and I have already arranged for me to be able to pull you from classes on the grounds of family business training. Your instructors should be informed when this occurs, but it will be up to you to complete missed classwork, and informing them of the situation yourself ahead of time is only prudent."

I hadn't been expecting to skip school for any of this, but in hindsight it seemed obvious. "That makes sense. I can start on that tomorrow, I think."

Gram nodded, taking a moment to tap a couple things on her tablet. "That was everything I had planned to discuss, unless you needed help with something?"

My mind drifted to earlier with Tracy, and how she obviously needed help, before flashing to coffee with Kara, where she'd implored me to seek help. I suppose if there was ever a time to ask… "I was thinking about maybe… getting a therapist." Mental health was always a bit of a touchy subject, especially back in Gram's day. I wasn't sure how she'd react. "But I'm not sure about insurance, or payments, or finding them…"

Gram didn't seem enthused about the topic, but she wasn't dismissing it outright. "Dear, the first thing I did after I helped your father pay off the last of your hospital bills was expedite moving you from his insurance plan to mine." My mind stalled a bit. I hadn't known Dad needed help with that. I thought the settlement had covered it? Gram wasn't lying… but also didn't seem worried or angry about it. I was hoping it hadn't been very much, after all that. "I'm assured there are very few specialists you would not be covered to see, should you want to."

"Oh." I wasn't the only one who'd need help though, I was sure. Triggers were usually life-altering for the worse, almost by definition. "I was thinking about the team, though. Not just me."

She hummed in thought. "That, would have to wait until the team's official formation, I think." The confusion must have shown on my face, because she felt slightly amused as she continued. "If you intend for it to be a benefit to the team, available to membership, you'll need to arrange for medical insurance, which will require an entity to do that negotiating. Your team's legal presence as an organization. The same will be true of liability insurance, income, taxes, pay…" My head was already spinning, it didn't help that I was still tired. Gram chuckled at my pained look. "The first step will either be incorporation as a company like a limited liability entity, or a non-profit like New Wave, or seeking out an attorney or executor to handle it. The rest will come after that."

My head dropped into my hands as I groaned and rubbed my face. "There's a lot more to making a team than I thought…"

"Only if you wish it to be a legal entity independent of the Protectorate, which I believe is rather intentional on their part." Gram stated darkly with a rueful smile.

I groaned. Was it too late to join the Wards? No, I'd never get anything done as a Ward. I was just too tired to feel excited about bureaucracy and paperwork. "I'll deal with that later…" I muttered.

"It was never going to be a swift process, but it needs to start eventually. Rushing too quickly can be as detrimental as waiting too long, however." She shook her head, grabbing for her cane and pushing herself stiffly from the chair. "Think on it. Whether you want your team to be for-profit, non-profit… technically you could even incorporate under a larger company's aegis, if you wanted. You should consider all of your options carefully." She waited for me to pull my head up and look her way. "Was that everything, dear?"

I nodded. "Yeah, all I can think of, so far."

"I'll make those plans for this weekend, and see you then." Gram made her way out, and I started ruminating on our options.

On the one hand, the thought of being paid for heroism felt… very mercenary. Then again, I didn't want our team to be like I imagined the Wards, with everyone being forced to contribute the same ways, or not at all. I wanted us to have options for the noncombatants, the capes who just wanted to live their lives and have ways to use their powers legally. Like being a Rogue, without having to deal with the stress and lack of safety of being independent. Then again, Rogues were Rogues for a reason. A lot of them were very mercenary. Parian just wanted to have her job, and use her powers to do it. That was fine, but I didn't want that to be the entire team. There were other groups like that, Toybox and the Elite, I thought they were called. I shook my head. Weren't one of those villains?

I groaned and stood up, pacing to help myself think. The non-profit option was the most immediately appealing. It had that heroic mindset, people just helping people to help people, not doing it for the money. That came up against the wall of not being profitable. If a non-profit ran low on money, the only real options were to find investors or beg for donations. It was harder to be proactive and take more risks that way. Add in that if we did manage to get a Tinker, or someone with a power that was good for making money like Parian's, if we had a member who wanted to profit from their powers, we'd either have to jump through extra hoops or have to tell them not to.

Neither of those sounded fantastic at first glance, but neither had the negative gut-reaction that considering making our team a corporate one came with. Corporate Cape teams were often looked down on as being sellouts, and I imagined they had to deal with extra orders from their bosses too. On the other hand, they probably had loads of funding to work with, and fewer strings than the Wards or Protectorate. All three were slaves to the PR engines, but corporate regulations were almost certainly less stifling than the government alternative.

A few minutes' more pacing and all I could decide on was that none of them sounded perfect. I'd have to see what Amy and Dinah thought, and hope they had ideas or opinions that'd help me decide. I shook my head, tired and frustrated, not really wanting to make huge life choices right now. It'd keep until the weekend, at least. With that thought, I headed upstairs, to find Dad scribbling notes in one of his work ledgers. From my brief glance, it looked like hours budgets for various contract jobs.

I hadn't been quiet on my way up the stairs, though. Dad glanced up at me, anxiety and shame spiking in his mood before he looked back down. "Hey, Taylor."

"You didn't cover all the bills." I'd wanted to say something, but hadn't realized that's what was coming out until I'd said it. He winced, and I tried to cover up the slip, make it less an accusation and more a discussion. "The settlement, I mean. I thought that was supposed to cover everything."

He sighed, setting his pen down and closing the book on it. "I… rounded up a little, in negotiating. It's a marketing trick. A dollar feels like a lot more than a penny less, even though it really isn't. Ten thousand feels like a lot more than eight, with the benefit of not being entirely wrong." He rubbed at his face, before waving at the books. "We would have been fine. I make enough that the debt woudn't last more than a few months if I cut back on a few things. I decided that getting you into a good school was more important than a few comforts and prioritizing your new cape stuff." He shook his head. "But then I decided the cape stuff couldn't wait. So I called your grandmother."

"Ah." I hummed. I didn't like the thought of Dad dropping himself into a hole for me, but… I was really enjoying my time at Arcadia. I had friends again, felt like my education mattered again. And for all that she was planning to run a little rough over my schedule, I hadn't minded Gram being around again, so far. "I think… in hindsight, that you made the right choices."

He turned a thin smile my way. "Thanks, honey."

I couldn't ignore it anymore. "Is… something else bothering you, dad?"

His eyes glanced away, and his lips pursed when his jaw tensed in agitation. "I..." he sighed. "I'm sorry. About this morning."

My head tilted, face scrunching slightly in confusion. "Why?"

It took a few moments for him to work himself back to talking. "I made a scene, jumping to conclusions, and… I've been underestimating you." He turned sad eyes back up to mine. "I've had doubts, about your powers, and what you could actually do with them." He took the time to breathe, rubbing at his face again. "Then I saw the news, and…"

Right. News stations didn't show much about the fights, but in cities with power after the Endbringers leave, you still had people recording videos with their phones, or news stations trying to get their stories out, or activists trying to drum up resources and results. I really shouldn't be surprised that he knew at least some of what'd happened, even without me telling him.

"I'm sorry." He said again, breaking into my thoughts.

It hurt a little, that he hadn't believed me. Hadn't taken my words at face value. Then again… "It's okay, dad. I'm not sure I'd believe it either, if it wasn't me."

He heaved a sigh, deep and heavy, and full of relief at my words. I moved over to give him as much of a side-hug as I could, with him still in his seat at his desk. "I'm still sorry." He continued. "I'll try to do better. You're my little girl. Your word should always be good enough for me," He chuckled to himself. "at least when boys aren't involved."

I blushed and swatted at him. "Dad," I whined, drawing out the word. "Ugh." I swatted him again after I groaned, heading out the door and across the hall to my room. He was still smiling and chuckling, though. At least he was over his mood again. I could deal with a little disappointment for his sake.

I got out my homework and powered through as much as I could before dinner. Then I grabbed food and went back to my room, slowly picking away at it some more while I ate. My mind kept wandering back to everything going on, especially the unanswered problems of Lisa and the Undersiders, but after getting frustrated with the thoughts for the third time, I decided it wasn't going to have a good answer until I talked to Amy and Dinah about it. I'd at least feel better if Dinah told me how likely the chances of getting stabbed in the back were.

That decided, and food finished, I sat down on my bed and turned my focus inward. What I needed right now was a few good hours without worrying, so I could get to sleep at a decent time to be up at a reasonable hour tomorrow. I whittled down my options for things to focus on as I went, and eventually settled on training myself to feel and control my energy more. A few hours later, I was starting to have trouble even focusing on that, and went to bed.

---

My mind slowly dragged its way back to awareness, despite my desire for more sleep. My eyes cracked open and I stared uncomprehending at the blue sky for a moment. Then I focused on the sand under me, clenched my hands until they should've hurt, and finally sat up with an eerily echoing sigh. After everything else I'd forgotten about over the course of yesterday, it didn't surprise me that I'd forgotten all about this same weird dream until now. "This again, huh?" I glanced around, taking in the placid ocean, featureless beach, and silent cut-and-paste island forest. I closed my eyes and slapped myself a few times, managing to feel the blows, but none of the pain. I left my head in my hands while I groaned for a moment, before I looked up again.

There, in the sand half a dozen meters in front of me, were the four pillars from last time. With nothing better to do, I pushed myself to my feet. "Well, might as well get on with it…"