Chapter Text
Morning of Tuesday 7th June, The Lair, The Docks
“Ceeee-lebrate good times, come on!” Anchorage sang along to the radio as I worked four frying pans. Every station I’d checked had been reporting the news that the Slaughterhouse Nine were all confirmed dead. A couple had called it the Slaughterhouse Zero, or the Slaughterhouse None. The music stations were all playing upbeat songs, the kind of stuff you could smile and dance to.
I’d fallen asleep last night as soon as I’d finished giving Dad a quick summary of how we’d managed to beat the Nine, leaving out a few key details like how much damage I’d actually taken, or how close Jack had come to beating me. I’d got hours of refreshing sleep, but Nemean’s power or my own early rising habits had eventually woken me up. When other people had started stirring, I’d decided to cook breakfast.
One pan held bacon and sausages, frying up nicely; another held several kinds of eggs- sunny side up, over easy, and scrambled. The smaller pans contained fried mushrooms, tomatoes and baked beans at Rotter’s insistence, and the last one was being used to build a stack of pancakes. The toaster dinged and ejected another couple of slices, which I set on a plate to the side. I’d set out butter and maple syrup and a bunch of drinks as well.
“We should spend the whole week partying,” Butcher said. “This is our biggest win yet- that means biggest celebrations. I’m thinking music, kegs, fireworks, all that shit.”
“Not going to ask for hoes and blow?” Bearskin asked.
Butcher snorted. “Nah, Taylor’ll just shoot it down.”
“My god, he can be taught,” Vladimir fake-gasped.
“Up yours.”
Dad stirred from the armchair he’d fallen asleep in, grumbled quietly, yawned hugely, and then finally opened his eyes. “Morning,” he mumbled, pushing his glasses up to rub at his eyes.
“Morning, Dad. You okay?”
Dad slowly pushed himself up and out of the chair with a grunt. “Bit stiff from that chair, but not terrible.” He straightened his glasses and sniffed. “Something smells good.”
“I’m making breakfast for everyone. I was just about to make coffee if you want a cup.”
“That’d be great.” Dad sat heavily at the table and yawned again.
“Man, is he always like this in the morning?” Firecracker asked.
“No; but then, he doesn’t usually stay up past midnight talking with me about how I fought a bunch of villains, so,” I shrugged as I filled the coffee pot and set it to brew.
I’d agreed early on to keep any and all bugs out of everyone’s rooms, but I did have some along the corridor ceiling that were picking up the sounds of people stirring and moving about. Good timing, since the bacon was about done. I started transferring strips onto a piece of paper towel just as Brian came into the kitchen, scratching his bare chest.
“Goddamn,” Quarrel said with a whistle. “You should’ve taken a swing at that!”
“You say that about everyone,” I pointed out. Out loud I said, “You want coffee too?”
“Please,” Brian said, nodding to my Dad. “Morning, sir.”
“Good morning. Sleep alright?”
“Not bad,” Brian admitted as the coffee finally brewed and I grabbed a couple of mugs. “I feel like I could go another couple hours though.”
“I feel like a wrung-out towel,” I admitted, bringing the coffee over. “But also really wired at the same time- I think it’s feedback from the Butchers being stoked that the Nine are gone.”
“It still doesn’t feel real,” Dad admitted, taking his mug from me with a quiet ‘thanks’. “You’d always hear about the Nine, losing members, getting chased off- but they always came back eventually.”
“Well, they’re not coming back now,” Brian said, engulfing his mug in his hands. “The Protectorate turned Jack’s death spot into a glass floor. I don’t think there’s even DNA left there.”
“Even his reputation’s been destroyed,” Needler pointed out. “I imagine it won’t take long for word to spread that Jack’s power gave him an advantage against parahumans. Hardly so impressive when he was playing with cheat codes the entire time.”
“And got shot in the ass and chopped to pieces,” Tock Tick added with a snicker.
“He got Butchered,” Nemean said.
“Ooh, maybe we should make that a catchphrase,” Stoneknapper suggested. “Taylor, next time you beat someone, say ‘You got Butchered!’”
I snorted with laughter. “No, absolutely not,” I giggled.
Brian gave me a weird look. “Uh, context?”
I waved a hand. “Stoneknapper’s trying to get me to make a catchphrase, it’s nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Dad said. “It could help with the heroic image.”
“Nobody who wants to be taken seriously uses a catchphrase,” I pointed out. “Name one serious hero who uses a catchphrase, outside of cartoons.”
“You used to have a catchphrase.”
“Wait, you had a catchphrase?” Brian asked. “I never heard that.”
“Dad, I didn’t have a catchphrase,” I said with a frown.
“No, not when you were Elpis,” Dad admitted. “But back when you were little and playing hero, you were always shouting ‘For Justice!’ right before you jumped off the couch or something.”
The Butchers laughed hysterically as the memory of tying a blanket around my neck as a cape and pretending to be Alexandria surfaced like a corpse that had slipped its concrete shoes. Brian spluttered with a mouthful of coffee. I just groaned “Da-ad, why?”
“Oh come on, you were cute! I know we’ve still got the pictures somewhere-”
“Dad!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” Dad chortled. “I’ve had my fun.”
Shuffling from the hall preceded Isabella, almost drowning in a Brian-sized shirt and with her hair covering most of her face. Altogether, she looked like she was auditioning for a remake of The Ring. She yawned something that could have been words and flopped into the chair next to Brian, immediately putting her head on his shoulder.
“So who wants food?” I asked, smirking as Brian froze, unsure what to do with his sleepy girlfriend.
“Yes please.”
“Please.”
“Wstfgl.”
I filled three plates and set them down, then grabbed a little bit of everything for myself, plus a glass of orange juice. I didn’t need the caffeine and frankly the others needed it more than me.
Tarquin came in next, wrapped in a blanket and scratching his head, Rachel and her dogs following. “You guys want food too?”
“I need to feed the dogs first,” Rachel said.
“Okay. I can fill you a plate while you get their bowls?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you frying tomatoes?” Tarquin asked, tilting his head.
“Part of a Full English Breakfast,” I said with a shrug. “We don’t have any black pudding though.”
“Isn’t that made out of pig blood?” Tarquin said with a disgusted look.
“As opposed to thin strips of pig meat,” I said, gesturing to the bacon as I filled more plates, and added extra bacon to my own.
“I had black pudding a couple of times,” Dad said, cutting his sausages. “It’s pretty good.”
“Don’t know why you lot get so squeamish about it,” Dirty Rotter said. “And haggis- it’s good stuff.”
Once everyone else had a plate, I dug into my own, a lot faster than the others. I wasn’t sure if Needler’s regeneration affected my appetite, but I was famished. I cleared my plate before anyone else was halfway, and mopped it with a spare piece of toast.
Lisa chose that moment to emerge, rubbing her eyes. She still had streaks of dark makeup smeared around her eyes, meant to hide the gap between her domino mask and her face. I poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her as she approached.
“Mm, thanks.”
I made her a plate, refilled my own, then finally sat down. Everyone was quiet for a while as we concentrated on the food and the coffee. Even the dogs were focused on their kibble more than anything else. The food vanished even faster than I’d expected- I’d have sworn there was still leftovers in the pans, but those disappeared too.
Finally Dad set his knife and fork down. “So what happens now?”
“Please tell me we’re not doing anything else today,” Lisa all but begged. “I’m this close to a migraine.” She held up finger and thumb barely apart.
“No,” I said, shaking my head as I drizzled maple syrup on my pancakes. “Short of the Triumvirate wanting to talk, today is nothing for us. We rest, we recover. The truce will last until the end of the week, so we have time.”
“And after that?” Brian asked, pushing his plate aside and resting his arms on the table.
“Kaiser lost his heavy hitter, his giant, and his healer got Mastered,” Tactical chimed in. “Depending on when the Protectorate withdraws the reinforcements, he might lay low or he might come out swinging to reestablish himself. As for Bakuda, I’ve got no idea. She’s the last cape of the ABB, but her powerset is perfect for leading from the rear.”
“There is also the challenge of the Teeth,” Muramasa said. “With their losses, they may choose to withdraw.”
“I doubt it,” Flinch replied. “The reputation you’ve won without them will probably make them even more eager to have the Butcher powers back. And being honest, they still have the capes most dangerous to us.”
That was true. I hadn’t been worried about facing Spree or Vex- I could cut through his clones and push through her forcefields easily enough. Reaver and Animos, on the other hand, could match me in speed and cutting power, or cancel out my power entirely. Squealer and Bilious were still alive, but they were more of an afterthought.
The real question was how to deal with the challenge. I’d agreed to the duel, since we needed all the hands we could get to deal with the Nine, but I still wasn’t comfortable with it. I’d killed clones when Noelle had gone berserk, I’d aimed to kill Abattoir when they’d broken the Truce, I’d killed inmates inside the Birdcage- but those were all moments of immediate danger where the lives of at least a whole city hung in the balance. Premeditated murder for a gang’s tradition was a different matter.
“The gangs will probably try to push again, but I don’t know what pace they’ll take. For once the heroes have the numbers advantage. We’ll just have to prepare and cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Might as well enjoy the break while we have it,” Aisha said around a mouthful of pancake.
Isabella jumped. “Cono! Don’t do that!”
Brian’s expression went from startled to exasperated quickly. “Aisha, how long have you been there?”
“I got here before blondie,” Aisha explained, gesturing to Lisa with a fork that dripped syrup onto the table. “Couldn’t be bothered to turn my power off, so I just grabbed a plate.”
“Well, that explains where the rest of the food went,” Vladimir noted.
“Better topic,” Butcher interrupted, “The fight. You better not hold back. That’s the rule. You come at the Butcher, someone doesn’t walk away.”
“She doesn’t have to use your stupid rules,” Flinch snapped, glaring at Butcher.
Tactical cleared his throat. “She might have to. By now the whole world knows that Elpis killed Jack Slash, albeit with some help. The local gangs are weakened, and we’ll probably weaken them further. People will start to see this city, see Taylor, as a target. Finishing the Teeth off when they challenge would be a good way to establish what will happen to others, ward off some of the challengers.”
“It’d also fuck our standing with the heroes,” Firecracker pointed out. “Every other time, the heroes were joining in on the killing because it was that or kiss their asses goodbye. A Teeth deathmatch ain’t going to be the kind of thing they’ll let slide.”
My eyebrows drew together. Both sides had points, and I wasn’t sure which to pick.
“Debate later. For now we get re-armed and get the money for offing the Nine. How many do you think we can take credit for?” Anchorage asked.
The rest of the team were talking even as I managed the debate inside my head. “Where did you even sleep?” Brian asked. “You don’t have a room yet.”
“Who says I didn’t just sneak into one of your rooms and sleep there?” Aisha said, wiping syrup off her plate with a finger and sticking it in her mouth.
“Because we’d kick your ass if you did,” Isa said, finally pulling her hair out of her eyes to give Aisha a hard look.
“You’ll have to catch me first. And who knows what I’d be doing in the meantime? Rearranging your drawers, tying your shoelaces together; random wet willies.” Aisha took her finger out of her mouth and waved it threateningly.
“Where did you really sleep?” Dad asked. “I feel like you wouldn’t want a repeat of the last time you tried to sneak in.”
Aisha groaned. “Fine, I grabbed a bunch of blankets and made a nest downstairs. Happy?”
“That can’t have been comfortable,” I said. “Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room? There’s another chair.”
“You guys snore,” Aisha said, pointing between me and Dad. “So loud.”
Quarrel burst out laughing.
“I’ll sort out a room for you later,” I said. There was still a lot of free space in the loft- all I’d need was to put up a wall and move some furniture. “What were we talking about?”
“Bounty money,” Needler reminded me. “I think it depends on how we consider assists. We killed Burnscar after the Wards had knocked her out, the Siberian was killed by us guiding Flechette’s shot, Bonesaw died from a Bakuda bomb, and while I doubt there’s any way we can send money to Glaistig Uaine, Armsmaster and Piggot did help us kill Jack.”
“Fuck giving any money to Bakuda,” Nemean said at once.
Tock Tick nodded. “I’ll second that. I think the Wards deserve the Burnscar money though.”
“All of it?” Rotter asked incredulously.
“Hey, that’ll be chump change compared to the price on the other three,” Stoneknapper said. “We can afford to be generous.”
Isabella set her cutlery down and stretched. “Ugh. I might just go back to bed again.”
“Go for it,” I replied, pushing my chair out and grabbing the empty plates. “I’ll finish up here. I need to make something for Amy’s breakfast anyway.”
I was the only one who’d woken up before 10, so I let everyone else be while I got to work downstairs. My armour was battered, my weapons were worn, and all of it was crusted with blood and dirt and ash.
More than that, I needed to change my look. The polished picture-perfect look wouldn’t work now that the world knew who I was, but I didn’t want to stick with the grim and spiky aesthetic either. There had to be a midpoint between unrealistic perfection and nightmarish aggression that I could work in.
I pulled the armour apart and sorted the salvageable pieces from the stuff that would need to be remade entirely while the forge heated up. I could actually take out a lot of the innards, the mechanical equivalent of padding that made the armour look powered. Maybe thicken the plating as well, add a few more tricks. I pulled out my tools and set to work.
I was about an hour into heating and hammering and quenching when I felt Dad coming down the stairs. I looked up from the jawguard I was reshaping and waved. “Hey Dad. What’s up?”
“Just stretching my legs,” Dad said with a shrug, stopping a little way away from the forge. “Fixing your suit?”
“Yep. I’ve got the time for once, might as well. Think there’s anything I should add?”
“How many weapons do you have right now?”
I stuck the piece back in the forge to heat up again and counted on my fingers. “I’ve got my bow, my sword, my axe and mace; pistol, wristgun, saws in the shins. A bunch of knives… and the air cannon’s around here somewhere.”
Dad made a face. “Maybe something blunt? Like a nightstick?”
“I mean, my bare hands can do about the same. But yeah, good point. I’m thinking of making another grappler- it’s useful.”
Dad nodded. “And once you’ve got everything ready? What are you going to do with it?”
The firm tone of his voice made me pause. “Well, I’ll have to coordinate with the PRT, figure out how the gangs are going to move, plan out a response…” I shrugged.
Dad sighed. “Taylor, you’ve been through three S-class situations. You can take a break. I think you should take a break.”
“I’ve got the rest of the week before the Truce ends,” I pointed out. “And things will be quieter with a bunch of villains gone.”
Bearskin shifted at that, but said nothing. He’d been close with Purity back before he’d left the Empire, and despite years apart, her death had shaken him.
“That’s not what I mean,” Dad said. “I think- you should let yourself be Taylor again. Check up on your school friends, do something fun. I heard they’re trying to get summer classes going at the schools- you wouldn’t have to catch up when you go back to school.”
I realised Dad and I were thinking along very different lines. “Dad, I don’t think I’m going back to school.”
Dad blinked. “What do you mean? They’re already fixing up-”
“No, Dad, I don’t mean that the schools aren’t going to reopen, I mean I can do more important things with my time.”
“More important? Taylor, this is your education we’re talking about-”
“Dad, I’m a cape. I’m a cape with a laundry list of powers and a reputation. The city needs me to hold things together more than it needs me to pass exams. It’s not like I can just settle down and do a 9 to 5.”
“And how are you going to make a living?” Dad retorted. “I know independent heroes struggle with money if they don’t have a sponsor.”
“I’m going to collect the bounties on Jack, Bonesaw and the Siberian tomorrow. I’d be set for life with that alone. I figure I can buy up some wrecked buildings through proxies, pay the Dockworkers to fix them up or do it myself if I have to, get an income stream. People will be coming to see the city where the Nine died, we can lean into that- I could just build a boat and restart the ferry service myself. I’ve got a lot of options.”
Dad looked utterly poleaxed at my response. “I… I just…” He sighed, defeated. “We always figured you’d go to college,” he murmured.
I winced. Mom had taught at the local college- I remembered her bringing me with her to work a few times when I was little, letting me sit in the back while she gave lectures on literature. I’d always assumed as a matter of course that I’d attend properly one day. “I know, Dad. But things are different now. And there’s people out there that need my help.”
Dad blew a breath out through his lips. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” He looked me in the eye. “You have to promise me you’ll keep me in the loop. And that you’ll keep yourself safe.”
“I promise,” I said sincerely.
“Okay.” Dad smiled sadly. “Your mom would be proud of you, you know.”
I felt a sudden rush of warmth at that, so I took a couple of steps forward and threw my arms around Dad. He hugged me back, and for a second I felt like a little kid again.
After a second Dad said, carefully, “There might be some online courses. Maybe a GED. If you really don’t want to, that’s fine, but maybe you could think about it.”
I considered it. “Yeah, I’ll look into it.” I squeezed gently. “Thanks for understanding, Dad.”
“Love you, Taylor.”
“Love you too.”
“D’aww, that’s cute,” Vladimir cooed.
“Don’t spoil this for me,” I warned.