1.7

Arrival 1.7​

"Fuck!"

Tommy Sato cursed as his phone's ringtone startled him and he jerked his big toe into the side of a kitchen cabinet. Pain ran straight up his leg, forcing him to hop over to where he'd left his phone on the counter.

From the living room, he heard his dad's voice shout a firm but playful, "Language!"

The young man, no more than sixteen, rolled his eyes at his fathers chiding and scooped his phone up, glancing at the caller ID. He frowned at the number; the ABB were gone, he'd seen the news. How could there be anyone left to call him?

Well, that wasn't really true, was it? After all, he was still a free man, so to speak. Who was to say that no one else would've avoided Supergirl's purge? There were a lot of people in Brockton Bay, she was bound to miss a few of them.

Again the phone buzzed in his hands and Tommy let out a sigh. He flipped it open and put it to his ear, "Tommy speaking."

"Satō, you're needed." was the immediate reply. Tommy sucked in a short breath, because he knew the man's voice. Suzuki was an ABB recruiter, mostly in charge of recruiting anyone with a lick of asian heritage into the ABB from the local high schools. He was a gruff man with a huge chip on his shoulder that loved to go on and on about reclaiming 'the lost asian culture'.

Tommy didn't care for him, and he didn't care much for his 'culture' either. All he cared about was the protection the ABB offered from the E88, and there was no more a moment he considered hanging up on Suzuki; the man was an absolute asshole, and Tommy was only an initiate. He just kept his eyes down and an ear open at Winslow for info that he occasionally fed to the ABB. There was no real loyalty there.

But, then his eyes flickered back to his father, sitting on the couch with his leg propped up in its cast. Then he looked back at the news, still talking about Supergirl's take down of Lung and Oni-Lee. Then he let out a sigh and focused on the phone call.

"Where am I needed?'

-S-​

I woke with a jerk, my heart pounding and blood roaring in my ears. My head snapped from side to side and relief slowly overcame my panic. No enclosing locker walls growing ever tighter, just the open space of my plain, unassuming room. No disgusting slime or skittering insects threatening to drown me, just the sweat soaked cotton sheets of my bed. And no mocking laughter, only the peaceful silence of an early Saturday morning.

I threw off the sheets and marched to the bathroom on unsteady feet. The long scorching shower that followed burned the worst of my anxiety out of me. After a change of clothes, and grabbing the beacon Supergirl had given me, I felt fresh enough to march my sorry self downstairs. To my surprise, I was greeted by the smell of sausage and eggs, and the sight of my dad actually awake.

I stopped at the edge of the kitchen, my body frozen by an unseen force. That same force seemed to grab my dads attention; he looked up from the smoking pan, and smiled at me. There were bags under his eyes and his thin hair was a mess. But damn it if that wasn't the first genuine smile I had seen from him in years. Since before the accident that took mom from us.

When I didn't move, he looked lost. He offered up the pan and said, "Eggs. And sausages. If you're hungry."

The pain in my stomach forced a nod out of me, "Yes, I… thanks."

There was a moment of awkward shuffling as we figured out what to do with ourselves. Ultimately, I sat at the kitchen table while dad prepared me a plate. To hear the sound of dishes being moved and food prepared in the old kitchen, and have it not be from me was a novel experience. I almost got up to help dad anyway, but he beat me to the punch.

He slid the plate in front of me with a mug of coffee, "Sorry, they're not the best. But, I wanted to make sure you could wake up to food."

My expression must have been clear when he sat down because he looked concerned, "Is it that bad?"

"I don't drink coffee." I gestured at the mug.

There was a look of panic on his face and he stood up fast enough that his chair scraped against the cheap linoleum floor. "Sorry, I… I forgot. You prefer… prefer…"

"Tea. Morning tea. Like mom." I said. The pain in my voice had to be obvious. Dad flinched like I had hit him.

"Of course. Like Annette. Sorry Taylor."

He went back to the sink. Obviously, he wanted to make things up for me, to fix things. But, this just made me frustrated. Yeah, dad was interacting with me more than he had in years. All it had taken was me nearly dying; and what was the guarantee this would even last? Or that this was even enough to make up for years of being ignored?

I knew that wasn't fair.

We had all lost in some way. And I hadn't exactly done anything to reach out either. We had both been content to pretend the other didn't exist. It was easier that way. Ignore the pain, pretend that life is going on like normal. Thats what all this was, an attempt at normalcy.

Dad was trying, in his own way, to tell me that I was safe now. That no one else was coming after me, that I didn't have to be afraid. But the truth was, I knew for a fact that I wasn't safe, and I still had plenty to be afraid of.

Two years ago, my mom died in a car crash. My world shattered, and everything I held dear crumbled with it. My best friend became my greatest tormenter, my hopes and dreams died in the cradle, and dad basically abandoned me. This little act, it wasn't going to last. Nothing good in my life did.

A small voice nagged at the back of my mind. It was a small, dissenting thing, but it refused to stay quiet. Because something had changed yesterday, more than just dad getting his act together. A cape had put my protection in her hands, and offered me a token of safety that no one else had. It was too good to be true of course, but when I rolled that tiny button around between my thumb and forefinger, that was enough to cool my frustration.

Dad came back and set a cup of steaming tea by my plate and took the coffee for himself. He sat across from me and managed that same smile again. I tried my best to return it, and took a sip of the tea. It wasn't perfect, but the warmth settled comfortably in my stomach. The eggs were runny and the sausage a little overcooked. But as we ate together at that table, a strange calm rolled over me, an unfamiliar thing that made my leg start bouncing.

I broke the silence before it overwhelmed me, "So… the number Glory Girl gave you… was it legit?"

Dad swallowed and his smile returned, "I talked to Mrs. Dallon last night after we got home. This isn't her area of expertise, but she is willing to refer us to a proper criminal lawyer. She didn't promise us anything, but she did guarantee she'd help get you transferred to Arcadia at least."

I let out a breath that I didn't realize I had been holding. That was legit, an actual alternative to going back to how things were. A smile surprised me, worming its way onto my face.

"That's good. That's really good."

Dad was quiet for a moment. Then he reached out and took my hand so carefully in his own, that it seemed like he thought I would break at the slightest jostling. The expression on his face was pained, and filled with self loathing. I recognized it from months of that same expression staring back at me in the mirror every morning.

"Taylor, I…" he sighed. "I fucked up."

I pulled my hand away and stared at him. It was an effort to keep my face blank as he spoke. Dad pulled his glasses off and wiped at the corner of his eyes, "When your mother… When Annette died, all I could feel was sorry for myself. For what I had lost. She was my other half, she completed me. But, that's not an excuse."

He put his glasses back on and looked at me, his face dead serious, "You lost her too. You lost your mother, and because of me you lost your father too. I might have been here, but I wasn't really. This bullying, the girls going after you at Winslow. You shouldn't have had to handle that alone. Even if those fuckers at Winslow wouldn't have listened to us, I should have been there to have your back."

Dad leaned back in his chair and cursed under his breath, "Fuck, I'm not good at this. What I'm trying to say, Taylor, is I'm sorry. I'm sorry I abandoned you, I'm sorry you felt you couldn't trust me. I'm sorry I failed you, and I understand if you don't want anything to do with me. But I want to make it better. I want to make things right. If you're willing to let me."

My chest was tight, I felt tears in my eyes, and I felt my lip quivering. Not because of Dad's words, but because of what I was going to say to him.

"Actions speak louder than words, Dad."

The pain in his face, it was like I had stabbed him. I looked away, I couldn't meet his eyes after saying that. I stared at my plate, the half eaten eggs and sausage; and the beacon that Supergirl had given me. The symbol on it shimmered in the early morning light, and I felt a lightness in my chest.

My mind went back to the kind young woman that had sat by my side as I blubbered inelegantly to her. While I rambled, she had engaged me as an equal, never interrupting or making light of anything I said. And she had put faith in my Dad; she had seen him fighting for me at Winslow after the Locker. I knew how hard he kept his temper under control around me, and he had unleashed it in full on Blackwell. He had spent all night talking with the Dallons, he was getting me transferred away from the Trio.

As far as actions go…

"But," my voice shook, ready to break. "Sometimes, people deserve a second chance."

With a little effort, I worked up the courage to look my Dad in the eye. Tears were streaming down his face, and that was all it took. The dam burst, tears flowed freely from my own eyes, and we hugged. A real hug, not those fake half hugs I'd gotten for years. That warm embrace, where for a moment I felt safe from anything the world could throw at me, even if we were both ugly crying at the same time.

I don't know how long we sat like that, awkwardly side by side at the dinner table crying our eyes out. I do know that when we released each other, I felt lighter and calmer than I had in years. Things were finally looking better, after two years of hell; it was going to take a while for that to sink in, but this was a start.

We finished our breakfast, which had gone cold, and Dad put away the dishes. His hands were shaking, but he was smiling. A real smile, one I hadn't seen from him in years.

"You're going to have to take an entrance exam." Dad said over the clink of dishes, "For Arcadia I mean. I know you can handle it, but if you want help studying, I'm here."

Instinct almost made me say no, but I stopped myself. I nodded instead and said, "I'd like that."

How fucked does your relationship with your parents have to be that you look forwards to studying with them?

I forced myself up and helped Dad with the rest of the kitchen. If he really was dedicated to changing things, if he wanted things to be right. Then I was going to meet him halfway. It was the only way things were going to get better.

That thought felt weird because it wasn't my line of thinking. Not really. But it felt like something Supergirl would say, something she would do. And if there was one person on this rock I wanted to be more like, it was her.

We had just wrapped up the last part of the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. Dad and I exchanged a look. "Might be a PRT representative," he reasoned. "Carol said there was a chance they'd send one today after everything that happened yesterday. I'll get it."

I turned back to the cupboard while Dad got the door. "Hello-"

There was a gunshot, loud and deafening. I jumped, the plate slipping from my fingers and shattering on the floor. When I turned around, I saw Dad staggering back, holding his stomach while blood seeped from his fingers. The world slowed, and I watched my Dad fall backwards on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

I couldn't register what I was seeing. My Dad had been shot. Someone had shot my Dad. He was dying on our floor. I understood it, but it didn't click. My eyes were dragged from my father to the man standing over him.

A tall, skinny asian man stood over him, covered in ABB tattoos. He held a smoking gun in his hand, that he slowly turned towards me. The gun that had shot my Dad. The gun that had set him dying on the floor. An empty metal thing that had stolen his life in an instant.

And now it was pointed at me.

Supergirls beacon weighed like a ton of lead in my pajama pocket.

I reached for it.

Another deafening bang, and I felt cold spreading from my chest. Something warm rose up in my throat, and I coughed. Blood splattered onto the floor. That was going to be awful to clean out, I thought, as I collapsed against the kitchen counter and slid to the floor. My whole body felt so heavy now, but I didn't hurt. That was weird, a gunshot should hurt right?

It was a weird clarity, a cold understanding that my life was over before it had even really begun. I had been shot, I was bleeding out on the floor. My Dad had been shot, and he was bleeding out on the floor. There was a sort of cold relief in that, death coming.

But there was another part of me, a part that raged against the fog filling my vision. I wasn't ready to die, I didn't want to die. If this man had his way, that wouldn't matter. He wasn't the only one though, with an ace up his sleeve.

My fingers wrapped tight around the beacon, and I activated it. A last hope, that maybe we would survive this. And then, my world went black.

-S-​

[SHAPER, QUERY]

[ADMINISTRATOR, RESPONSE]

[REQUEST: DATA]

[AGREEMENT]

[GRATITUDE]

-S-​

The part about Super Speed no one talks about, is how slow it can feel when you're in a panic. Even as I flew as fast as I safely could in Brockton Bay, it didn't feel fast enough. Houses and streets rushed by below me in a blur, and I still didn't feel fast enough.

A hundred different scenarios played in my head as I rushed to the Hebert household. None of them were pleasant. The beacon I had given Taylor was for emergencies only, and the girl didn't seem like the type to use it haphazardly. Best case scenario, she had suffered a panic attack and just needed some comfort. Worst case scenario…

I reached her home and landed without a sound to see my worst fears realized. A scene straight out of a horror movie greeted me.

A young man, no more than fifteen or sixteen, was huddled behind their truck, curled into a ball and rocking back and forth sobbing quietly to himself. His partner… his partner was a bloody mess all over their front yard. I felt bile at the back of my throat; it was a grisly sight. The man's legs lay on the front porch in front of the door where the screen kept battering against the house as the wind rose and fell.

I lifted off the ground and slowly floated inside. It took an effort not to dwell on what I had seen. Inside wasn't much better.

Danny Hebert lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood, holding his hands over a bullet wound in his stomach. His face was chalk white making the unshaven beard on his face stand out even more. There was a slow rise and fall of his chest, and I could hear his heart beating, but it was faint. Without medical treatment, he'd die.

Taylor sat beside him, reaching out to try and help, only to pull her hands back at the last second, over and over again. She was painted in blood and viscera, and her entire body trembled. Tears raced down her face cutting pale streaks through her blood-caked cheeks. From beneath the crimson mask, her eyes were wide and pale, like a terrified animal instead of a scared girl

"Taylor…" I kept my voice as quiet and gentle as I could.

Her head whipped towards me, and when she saw me, her lip started to quiver. "I didn't… this wasn't…"

She broke down into ugly, broken sobs. I landed next to her, took her hands in mine, and let her cry. There were times for talking, and times for silence. Right now, this was a time for silence.

-S-​

Danny was in rough shape, moving him to a hospital wasn't an option. Thankfully, I had something better than a hospital. The air thundered around me as I rocketed back across Brockton Bay to the Boardwalk. It took me less than a second to find Amy, Vicky and Dean where I had left them. If I had more time I would have changed back before asking for Amy's help, but time was something I didn't have.

Instead I arced around the boardwalk and came to a stop floating in the air across from them. People stopped and openly gawked, pulling out cameras and cellphones and shouting questions at me. A crowd started to form with frightening speed. I paid them no mind.

"Amy Dallon, Panacea?" I said, doing my best to keep my voice level and calm. They might be fine with their identities being known, but I wasn't. Best if it seemed we weren't too close, even if I had already been working with Glory Girl.

She exchanged a concerned look with Vicky, "Uh, yeah?"

"I need your help, someone is in serious trouble." I offered my hand to her, "Please."

Panacea didn't waste time asking questions. As soon as I said that, she was all business, hopping to her feet and grabbing my hand. I pulled her to my side and took off again, scattering the crowd with the resulting sonic boom. We made it back to the Hebert household in record time.

I made sure to deposit Her inside, past the mess outside. She didn't seem as bothered by it, which given what she did day to day, didn't surprise me. Taylor hadn't moved since I had left, but her eyes were red and puffy now. She was going to need a lot of help after today.

Panacea sat by Danny's side, ignoring the blood that stained her jeans. Danny's breathing had grown almost too soft to hear at this point, but his heart was still beating. He was still alive, he could still be saved.

With exaggerated care, Panacea removed his hands from his wound and pressed her own around it. The bleeding, which had already been slow, stopped all together at her touch. The flesh surrounding the wound boiled and swirled, accompanied by a series of uncomfortably wet squelching sounds. A bullet rose out of the wound and rolled off his stomach onto the floor with a soft clink, and then the wound knit itself back together.

She removed her hands, and Danny let out a gasp. He sat up coughing, and Taylor let out a wordless cry. The girl almost embraced him, but stopped herself at the last second, looking at her hands with newfound terror. I knew that fear well, the terror that came with inhuman strength in a very human world. And Taylor had experienced it in one of the worst ways possible.

Danny let out a shaking breath, "It's okay, Little Owl. I trust you."

Taylor sobbed and hugged her father with exaggerated care. I felt relief in my heart. Even if they had been hurt, they had survived to see another day, and that was a win in my book.

-S-​

Someone had, understandably, called the cops when the Heberts were attacked. They arrived a minute or two after Panacea healed Danny, followed afterwards by a unit from the PRT when it became clear that Taylor had developed powers in the attack. The two of them sat together on the porch while police and PRT talked with them both.

Every move Taylor made now was slow and careful, like she was afraid she would break something if she moved too fast. I felt a pang of guilt watching it. If I had been faster, if I had been paying more attention, this never would have happened in the first place.

At the same time though, how could I have known that what was left of the ABB would go after them? I considered Taylor a friend, but as far as I knew that wasn't public knowledge. She was just a girl I had saved; what kind of world was I in that criminals would go after someone like that just for the possibility that it would hurt me?

I felt sick thinking about this and my stomach twisted itself into knots. Taking down the ABB, saving so many of their victims, that had been a good thing. I still believed it was a good thing. But now I was doubting myself; who else would they go after now, just to spite me?

My thoughts were interrupted as Panacea walked up next to me. Her face was, as always, a mask of calm. I smiled at her and said, "Thank you. For saving him."

"Heroes are supposed to help people." she replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Then she added, "They're also supposed to make things better."

I looked at her aghast, "Are you… blaming me for this?"

"Why else would some two-bit ABB gangbanger go after them? No one else hit the ABB as hard as you did." she said.

That hurt.

It was one thing for me to blame myself for what happened, that was natural guilt. It was another for someone to accuse me of my own worst fears.

"I was trying to help. If you'd seen their victims…"I thought back to those faces, scared and hurt, the memory of their victims even now made my blood boil.

Amy folded her arms and scowled, "Yeah, well… Sorry if I'm not taking a liar at their word."

I felt my blood run cold and it must have shown on my face. She stabbed a finger at me, "You've been lying to us from the word go. Your name isn't Karen Star, you're not a new cape, and you're definitely not human."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, surprised by the venom in Amy's voice. "A-Amy, what-"

She held up a hand, "I can read the biology of anyone I touch. I've known from the moment we met that you weren't human. I didn't say anything at first, because I figured you didn't want to bring it up in a public place."

Her scowl deepened, "Then we let you into our home, gave you a place to stay, trusted you. And you lied to our faces, again and again and again. You might have Vicky and everyone else buying your quirky girl scout bullshit, but I don't. And I'm tired of pretending everythings okay, when people are getting hurt, because of you."

I stepped back from Amy, still reeling from this. This was not at all what I had expected from the girl. Part of me was indignant of her accusations and wanted to deny them, but… she wasn't wrong. I had lied to her and to the rest of the Dallons. To their faces even, and taken advantage of their hospitality. It wasn't cut and dry, but it wasn't an inaccurate accusation. As for others getting hurt…

My eyes went back to Taylor, wrapped in a blanket with most of the blood wiped off her face but a few specs stuck in her curly hair. It wasn't particularly cold, but she was still shivering. The image of her kneeling over her dying father wasn't one that was going to leave me anytime soon. And it was my fault.

A pit formed in the back of my throat. I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. When I turned back to Amy, I opened them. "Thank you, Amy. You've… given me a lot to think about."

I slowly lifted into the air, "If I'm not back by noon, and the Protectorate comes calling, tell them I just… needed some time to think."

On the horizon I saw Victoria flying towards us, in full Glory Girl guise now. I started to ascend before she could reach us. If she asked what was going on, it could start an argument, and right now the Heberts didn't need a trio of supposed superheroes arguing on their front lawn.

The scowl on Amy's face faltered for a moment, but I was already taking off before she could say anything. I went straight up, faster and faster and faster until the air cracked and ignited around me. Once Brockton Bay was a blurry speck beneath my feet, I shot like a rocket into the emptiness of space, leaving Earth far behind.

-S-​

One nice thing about my powers was that, if I needed some time to myself, it was really easy to get as far away from other people as possible.

I sat on the edge of a crater on the moon, soaking in the sunlight and watching the little blue and white marble that was Earth. If I focused, I would be able to hear any and everyone. Billions of voices and lives on a tiny little rock in a vast uncaring universe, that was only one of an infinite number. A beautiful miracle.

It might have looked like my Earth, but it wasn't. Earth-Bet was different, I was realizing that now. The tragedy's they'd suffered, the enemies they faced, and those they had lost. Back home, I considered myself a glass half full kind of girl. But on Earth-Bet, I could see how easily it was to see everything as a glass half empty.

The most frustrating part was I had done good. I had made a genuine difference. But that had led to Taylors entire life being upended. Superheroes like me, Kal, or the league, we were supposed to protect people so they didn't have to worry about things like gunmen at their door. And I had failed.

It was easy, honestly, to lament my failure. To let my frustration eat at me until I was just a hollow shell of angst. More than that, it was easy to admit that I missed my home. My Earth, my apartment, my family… my krypton.

I pulled my knees to my chest and sighed.

Homesickness was settling in nicely, it seemed. The truth, as I saw it, was simple. Waking up on Earth-Bet, losing my home again? It had scared me, more than I must have realized. When Kal had taken me in, had sent me to that orphanage, I was a genuine alien in a world I barely understood.

Those years had been painful, they had hurt. But I had adapted, I had overcome it and had made Earth my home. Having it all ripped away from me again, had made me defensive. Cagey. I had tried to do as Kal would do, and I held no regrets about that.

But I had lied to myself, avoided my own worries and insecurities and acted in a way I really didn't need to. How were the people of Earth-Bet supposed to trust me if I couldn't extend the same courtesy to them or their heroes? I was supposed to be better than that.

"I wish you were here, Kal." I whispered to myself. "If I could just get home… you'd know what to do."

In most circumstances, wishing didn't do a whole lot. It was nice to voice what I wanted, but I never expected anything to just come of it. But if my life was anything, simple and straightforward wasn't it.

A shadow fell over me, blocking the sun. Visitors on the moon weren't exactly common on my Earth, let alone this one. I stood and turned to face them. The sun was eclipsed by an angel descending from the heavens, forming a halo of fusion and fire. Her skin shimmered an ethereal marble white. Wings of many sizes and shapes sprouted from her body, some wrapping around it, others moving in a nonexistent wind. Empty silver eyes stared ahead at nothing as it descended, hovering with one toe an exact inch over the ground while its other leg was held close to its body.

I was new to Earth-Bet and not familiar with every hero and villain on it. But even I recognized the most infamous creature on the planet. So I rose into the air, fists clenched and jaw tight, to meet the Simurgh eye to eye.

A/N: AH, FINALLY, AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS ITS FINALLY TIME TO POST A NEW CHAPTER!

Bad habits, procrastination, and general apathy kept this and many of my other stories on the backburner. I am in a better place mentally now and am trying to write more for all of my stories in general. I have learned I am not giving myself set dates however for posting these chapters, that wound up not working out for me. However, I hope to have a more consistent update schedule in general moving forward. But I make no promises.

As for the chapter itself, hopefully it was enjoyable and was worth the wait. Please leave your comments, questions and critiques down below so that I may subsist on them and continue to gestate as the eldritch creature that I am. Ciao!