Imitation Game (Complete)

by Camo30209

Summary:

For better or worse, Taylor's newly acquired parahuman abilities and her unintentional stumble into villainy were not what she expected. Her life was now a barely controlled freefall, and Nobody definitely wasn't helping. Even if they were doing their best. And, on top of all that, what in the world was going on with Emma and Sophia?

Alt-Power Taylor with a power that is... difficult... for her, to say the least, but brimming with potential if she can figure out how to correctly harness them. And, of course, keep Nobody from getting distracted.

Now, if only she could also keep Emma out of her head.

Chapter 1: Lurk 1.1

Lurk 1.1

Friday, April 8th, 2011.

The mirror in the girl's bathroom of the social studies wing at Winslow High School was cracked in three different places.

Taylor Hebert stared at her drenched face and resisted the urge to add even more fractures to her reflection. She'd probably just break her hand, and add some blood to the juice and soda already soaking her clothes and pooling on the grimy tile floor.

She couldn't catch a break for one fucking day.

Now that her tormentors had figured out that she was hiding in the bathrooms during lunch, they would be able to split up and find her again. There were more than enough brainless lackeys who were willing to give up their lunch time for Emma's approval.

It never stopped.

Day in and day out for the last year and a half, her former best friend found new and creative ways to torture her. Some of the pains were relatively minor in isolation, like having juice dumped on her while she tried to eat. It just added insult to injury that she had to eat in the fucking bathroom in the first place. A vain attempt to avoid her tormentors.

But the small injuries added up. The constant stress, watching over her shoulder, waiting for the next inevitable strike… It was as exhausting as it was infuriating.

Plus, some of the injuries weren't so minor. She could still feel the bugs and the bile crawling over and into her skin, burning and biting and-

Taylor kicked the plastic maintenance bucket stowed haphazardly under one of the chipped sinks. The cacophony of hollow plastic against ceramic wasn't nearly as satisfying as she'd hoped.

"You know, I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, everyone else's existence isn't quite this depressing," a bored voice said from behind her.

Taylor glared into the mirror.

Nobody wore a stranger's face today.

Perfectly straightened blonde hair fell in sleek lines down either side of their decidedly average face, parted in the middle. They could have been any of the high schoolers wandering Winslow, although they didn't sport any of the usual acne or blemishes that marred most normal teenagers' skin. Whoever it was they were emulating was short, barely coming up to Taylor's chin, and just a little on the soft side.

Despite their claims to the contrary, Nobody was a vain little shit. None of their usual forms were deliberately unattractive.

"Would it kill you to fuck off, just this once?" Taylor growled through gritted teeth. She wasn't in the mood for Nobody's complaining today.

"It just might," Nobody leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette. "Better not to risk it."

"Don't you dare light that in here. The last thing I need right now is Blackwell finding me in a bathroom leaking smoke," Taylor groaned.

"The smoke smell pops with me, don't worry. The particles are technically part of me, too, or whatever. How else do you think I get away with smoking at home?" Nobody rolled their eyes and sighed dramatically.

At least they got rid of the cigarettes.

Taylor still wanted to break something.

Nobody examined their perfect fingernails in lieu of smoking.

Over-dramatic fuck.

"So… how's that 'be the bigger person' plan coming along? Is ignoring the crowned princess bitch and her merry band of sadistic parasites as satisfying as it looks from over here?"

Ironically, having someone to focus her frustration on was actually kind of helpful. Not that Taylor would ever tell Nobody that. They'd be insufferable for weeks.

"Sarcasm isn't the lowest form of wit," Taylor replied. "Only because it isn't wit at all."

"Ouch," Nobody deadpanned, pushing off the wall to stand straight. "You should definitely try that one on Emmi. I'm sure she'll crack in the face of your clever banter."

Anger burned white hot in her veins and Taylor spun, lashing out and punching Nobody right in their stupid, smug, infuriating face.

Pain jolted through her hand and lanced up her arm. The dull thud of flesh against flesh sounded louder than it should in the empty bathroom. It was still probably better than punching the mirror, though.

She actually managed to put a surprising amount of force into the blow and her irritating companion stumbled backwards, cracking the back of their head on the painted concrete.

They were able to stay upright by bracing a manicured hand on the wall, but at least some blood leaked into their perfect fucking hair and they left a red splatter on the wall from the impact.

"Fuck, that was a good one," Nobody let out a wheezing chuckle. "Feel better?"

They flickered, and suddenly they were whole and pristine once again, leaning back against the wall and smoking that damn cigarette.

Taylor punched them again, even though her hand already hurt from the first time. Punching Nobody in the face without hand-wraps was stupid. It obviously hurt her more than it hurt them, and it didn't even really make her feel all that much better.

"Have you considered doing this to dear ol' Emmi instead of me?" Nobody spat a gob of bloody saliva onto the tile floor. They popped and reformed again, this time without the cigarette. The blood on the tile disappeared, too. "As much as I just love being your infinite stress relief punching bag, it seems counterproductive."

"Go fuck yourself."

"I probably could, although I haven't taken the time to figure out the logistics. Of course, I'm basically you, if you squint and tilt your head a bit, so if you wanted a healthier form of stress relief-"

"Absolutely not."

Nobody flickered again and suddenly Taylor was staring at very familiar sharp emerald eyes and long, shiny red hair.

"Are you sure? We both know-"

Taylor punched them again and stormed out of the bathroom.

It wasn't fucking fair.

Part of her wanted to cry, but she shoved that broken piece of herself down into the depths and just marched for the nearest exit. She couldn't go to class like this anyway.

The juice was starting to dry, and her clothes felt sticky. They clung to her in weird ways, somehow too tight and too loose at the same time.

Luckily, the bell for the next class period must have rang at some point while she was busy glaring at her reflection or beating up Nobody, so the hallway was empty.

She shoved the emergency exit door out of the way with unnecessary force. It wasn't like the alarms actually worked.

Useless fucking school, with useless teachers and useless fucking Blackwell.

Fucking Emma.

Fucking Nobody.

The iron knot of anger and anxiety and something that might have been akin to grief didn't start to loosen its stranglehold on her until Winslow was out of sight.

Footsteps inevitably followed her, but Taylor refused to give them the satisfaction of acknowledgement.

"Jeez, you've got long legs," Nobody complained from behind her. "Look, I brought a peace offering. You forgot your bag, and I can't take it with me when I pop. Obviously. Since it's, y'know, real."

Taylor kept walking. Nobody could deal with their own shit for a whole two minutes.

"I… Dammit, Taylor. I'm sorry, okay? About the Emma thing. That was a low blow. Would you believe me if I said I was just trying to help?"

"No."

"Okay, yeah, that's fair. Wow, this bag is really heavy. What the hell are you schlepping around all day? And why?"

Taylor couldn't use her locker anymore. Nobody fucking knew that, or at least, they should. If they bothered to think about it for more than three seconds.

The old brick buildings slowly became less and less run down as they walked, like a weird sort of reverse time lapse. Taylor's house wasn't exactly in the nicest area of the Docks, but it was a fair bit better than the parts surrounding Winslow.

She usually took the bus, but she couldn't be bothered today. She needed to feel something, even if it was just the burn in her legs from the rapid pace. Besides, this way the juice would dry quickly, and she didn't need to worry about sticking to the bus seat or having anyone look at her.

Nobody except Nobody, of course.

Hilarious.

They were halfway home before Nobody finally gave in and filled the silence.

"C'mon, Tay, stop for a sec, please," they whined. "I like this body. I don't want to switch to a taller one just because you're stuck like that and apparently took up speed walking when I wasn't looking."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine, oh glorious creator, please slow your gargantuan stride so us mere mortals can-"

Taylor knew she was giving them what they wanted, but she spun around to face Nobody anyway.

"What the fuck is your problem? Can you not be a fucking asshole for five whole minutes? Is it really that hard for you?" Taylor demanded.

She was so fucking sick of it. Of everything.

"I said I was sorry, didn't I?" Nobody put her backpack down and flickered, suddenly free of sweat and any other evidence from their march across the city. "Look, you know this needs to stop. They can't get away with treating you like that forever, but this plan of yours? Just put up with them until you leave for college? It's fucking stupid."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Taylor clenched her jaw. She knew what Nobody was going to say. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, or at least very similar versions.

The buildings on this block were boarded up, so at least they had some relative privacy.

"You're smarter than me, but we can figure something out, together. There has to be a way to use your power, my power, whatever, to fix this bullshit. We can trick them, or something, I don't know-"

"No. No, I'm not going to…" Taylor groaned and tried to find the right words.

Using her power to fuck over Emma and Sophia was entirely too tempting. That was the whole fucking point.

She wouldn't be like them. She was better than that.

Although, right this moment, she didn't feel better. The sticky liquid had long since dried, and now her clothes and hair were… crusty. She didn't want to think about it.

The heavy rock of rage and frustration in her gut was back, though. Great.

"Either we come up with a plan together, or I'm going to do something about it myself. And we both know that my plans are awful," Nobody said.

"Don't you dare," Taylor hissed, the anger turning cold. "Don't you dare fucking blackmail me, you pathetic-"

"It's for your own good! Pull your head out of your ass for a split second. This is insane! You can't just let them-"

'I'm not letting them do anything-"

"Yes, you are!" Nobody's sudden yell was strangely loud on the deserted street. "You are. You could have stopped them months ago. We could have stopped them. But no, you're just so fucking insistent on letting them treat you like shit. I'm tired of watching it. I'm tired of dealing with you being pissed and awful because of it. You aren't the only one who has to live with you!"

Taylor took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a long moment before she crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe, if her arms were crossed, she could resist the urge to punch Nobody again.

"She isn't important. If you mess with her, then it's just proving that she matters. And she doesn't… fucking… matter," Taylor hissed.

"You know that's bullshit. This obviously matters to you, or you wouldn't be like this," Nobody pointed out. "I know the school won't help, and your dad would probably just make it worse, but we have to do something."

"We are-"

"Hiding in the bathroom during lunch and ignoring them when they corner you in the hallways isn't something! It's like, literally the opposite of something. Look, if you don't help me come up with a better idea, I'm just going to turn into Emma again and go punch a teacher. Or maybe I'll punch Sophia. I don't know. You're the mastermind here, I'm just-"

"Stop… talking," Taylor said.

For once, Nobody actually shut up.

Huh.

Taylor clenched her fists and forced down the instinctual denial that jumped automatically to her lips.

Nobody was an asshole, but that didn't automatically mean they were wrong.

And even if they weren't right, they could make her life a living hell if they fucked this up because she refused to help.

Besides, it wasn't like she could actually stop them.

It was infuriating, and she hated the lack of control, but that didn't make it less true.

Taylor didn't know why this time was different, why it was so much harder to say no than every other time they'd had this conversation. Maybe it was because she was actively covered in dried juice. Maybe it was because her grades were slipping again, and she couldn't face her father's disappointment. Maybe it was because she couldn't stop seeing Emma's sneering, stabbing, perfect face when she closed her eyes.

"Fine," Taylor bit out eventually.

"Really?"

"Don't fucking push it," she sighed. "But yeah, really. We'll think of something… nothing that will… I don't know, kill them, or whatever-"

"Sure, because they've never tried to kill you-"

"-and, if you agree not to fuck up my real life, we can actually go out on a real patrol this weekend," Taylor continued over them like Nobody hadn't spoken.

"Really?" They asked again, and Taylor almost changed her mind. This was going to backfire horribly in so many different ways.

But Nobody was right, in their own way. She needed to do something. This tension, this pressure, needed some kind of release, or she was going to explode.

"Don't make me say it again or I'll go for another swim in the Bay."

"You're kind of shitty at negotiating. I'm trying to fix your real life, if you haven't noticed," Nobody grumbled.

"Well, with friends like these…" Taylor cracked a grin against her better judgement.

"Shut up. I didn't say I was good at it," Nobody rolled their eyes.

"Neither did I," Taylor replied flatly.

They stood in silence for a long moment. A paper fast food bag blew across the broken street in the warm spring breeze.

Finally, Taylor sighed and picked up her backpack. It was still a bit damp, but she would handle that later.

"I guess we should go… figure out a costume, then? And maybe a name?" Taylor shrugged helplessly and looked over at Nobody. Their expression was unusually morose, their eyes looking for something in Taylor's face with a weird intensity. It looked out of place, even on the stranger's face.

Nobody's faces may change, but the underlying expressions didn't. The words they said and the way they said them were always the same. They were still them, no matter who they looked like.

They didn't answer, and Taylor resisted the urge to sigh again.

She was well aware that things weren't exactly fair to Nobody, either. They were just such an ass about it, it was easy to forget sometimes. Taylor honestly didn't know if she would trade places with them if she could.

"For the record, I'm… sorry, too," Taylor said, even though the words didn't want to leave her throat. "I know this isn't easy for you, either."

"Aww, that's sweet, Tay," Nobody's voice returned to its usual sarcastic tone. Unfortunately. "I always knew there was a warm, loving cinnamon roll hidden somewhere deep inside that pit of angst and teeth you call a-"

"I genuinely hate you, sometimes. You know that, right?" Taylor groaned, but her heart wasn't in it anymore. She was just… tired.

"You say the nicest things. I'll make sure to remember that when the nights get cold."

"I'll find a way to kill you," Taylor promised. As if she hadn't already tried.

"I wish you would. I didn't ask to be born," Nobody tried to keep a straight face, but Taylor could see the crooked grin peeking through underneath. This was familiar ground, for them.

Taylor rolled her eyes and they started walking again; more slowly this time, side by side. And, since Taylor was carrying her own bag, Nobody could pop and reform anytime they wanted. They were much less insufferable when they could make adjustments as they pleased.

Even if all that meant was lighting another damn cigarette.

Taylor didn't actually mind all that much, though. Not when they were outside, at any rate.

Maybe, despite everything, being stuck with Nobody wasn't the worst thing in the world.

They were still the most irritating power on the face of the planet, though.

…

Monday, January 3rd, 2011.

They'd never woken up before, but this felt kind of like that.

Before, they hadn't existed. Now, they did.

Weird.

They blinked and surveyed the dirty, empty hallway of Winslow High School. Rusted lockers with chipped paint lined both walls.

They remembered this place.

How did they remember? Why did they remember?

They remembered being Taylor Hebert.

Except they weren't.

Because Taylor Hebert was stuck in the locker at the end of the row in front of them. They knew which one belonged to her. They remembered her getting shoved in there, along with the rancid trash and blood and vomit.

But they hadn't gotten shoved in there, even though they remembered it.

They put aside the strangeness of remembering things they never experienced. They should probably help her, right?

That's why they were here.

They didn't know how they knew that. It wasn't even a requirement, just a general suggestion. Still, it wasn't like they had anything better to do.

They walked over to the locker. Taylor had gone silent, even though they knew she was still inside.

They remembered the moment that she gave up. Accepted that no one would ever care.

The locker was locked. Obviously.

Inconvenient.

They were pretty sure they weren't strong enough to break a metal padlock with their bare hands.

They tried anyway.

It didn't work.

"Is somebody there?"

Oh. Taylor had noticed them fiddling with the lock. That was awkward.

"Yes? Um… yeah, I'm going to go find some… bolt cutters? Or something?" They said. Their voice sounded strange in their own ears. Like it'd never been used before.

Hilarious.

You know, most people probably don't have to deal with finding bolt cutters in a school thirty seconds after being born.

Did that mean it was their birthday?

They'd figure out that part later.

"Don't… leave."

Okay, finding bolt cutters was going to be much harder if they also couldn't leave. Sorta mutually exclusive options there, Taylor.

"I'll be back, I promise, but I can't get you out without something to break the lock."

They looked down at their hands. Long, thin fingers and pale skin.

Despite Taylor's protests, they strode down the hallway to the nearest bathroom.

They'd expected it, but staring into the mirror and seeing Taylor's face staring back was… weird.

They weren't her.

They could be somebody else, though.

Maybe somebody with bolt cutters?

The first stolen memory that came to mind was Taylor's father working on the fence in the backyard, holding his old tools.

There was a soundless pop, and for a very brief moment they stopped existing.

Then, as quickly as they left, they were back. With a very different face, tired bags under their eyes and a receding hairline. They even got some grass stained jeans and a flannel out of the deal.

Perfect.

They ran back down the hallway, bolt cutters in hand.

"Please…" Taylor's voice was weak.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it. Sorry, I've never done this before," they rambled, trying to get the shackle in between the blades of the long handled loppers. It took longer than it should. Taylor's struggling on the other side of the door didn't help. At least she wasn't dead or something.

Finally, they found the right angle and the lock broke with a snap that echoed in the empty hallway. The door opened and they jumped backwards to avoid the tiny tidal wave of grossness that also included Taylor's floundering body.

Taylor writhed on the ground for a moment before managing to pull herself up to her hands and knees.

They reached down to help, but didn't want to touch the… everything, going on there, so they pulled back instead.

Yuck.

Taylor finally looked up at them and her bloody face twisted with a whole mess of emotions they didn't understand.

"Dad?"

Oh. Right. Whoops. They were still wearing his face. That was awkward.

"No, no, um… sorry? I don't know why I'm apologizing. I'm not your dad, I'm… uh…"

Shit. They didn't know what they were. That was inconvenient.

Taylor pushed herself away from them in horror, ending up against the door of the locker she just fell out of. That was probably a fair reaction, given the circumstances.

"Look, I'm kinda clueless too, here, but I can…" They shifted to look like Taylor again. "See? I… uh… oh, that's probably not helpful. Fuck."

Sure enough, Taylor pulled in a deep breath and tried to scream.

Luckily, she choked on the residual vomit and who knows what else, so all that came out was a hacking cough and a strangled keen.

"Shit, sorry." Why were they still apologizing? They'd just saved her from that trash heap. Taylor should be thanking them, honestly. "Look, I don't know if you want anyone to find you like this or not. I was born, like, literally five minutes ago, so, y'know, any insight would be welcome here."

Taylor didn't seem to be in the right state of mind to respond. She just stared up at them with glassy, bloodshot eyes.

Maybe they should stop wearing her face. Yeah, that would help. Right?

Someone who could help, someone who could make her feel better…

They frantically rifled through Taylor's memories like a crooked businessman trying to shred all his documents before a surprise tax audit.

They shifted again, and this time Taylor managed to scream in earnest. High pitched and terrified, with a good mix of pain and longing and horror added for spice.

In hindsight, putting on her mother's face was a terrible idea.

They could hear footsteps from a nearby classroom.

They probably shouldn't be here.

Scratch that. They definitely shouldn't be here. Not wearing Annette's face, or anyone else's, for that matter.

Shit. Fuck.

Working with unnatural instincts that they definitely needed to think about more when Taylor wasn't screaming, they popped like a soap bubble and reformed on the roof of the school.

Cool. Cool cool cool.

No one would look for them up here, right?

Fuck, it was cold, though.

They crouched down to avoid being seen and looked out over the rundown buildings.

Taylor remembered the city. She'd walked and driven down the streets between the brick facades countless times, but they hadn't. It was somehow novel, and not, at the same time.

Being tall didn't make it look less shitty.

The quiet solitude was kind of nice, though. It had been a chaotic few minutes of existence.

They waited until an ambulance and a police car showed up. A paramedic walked Taylor to the open back of the ambulance. At least she was walking, and not… worse.

Then the real Danny showed up and marched over to the ambulance as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. Seeing him again after their previous fuck up was probably weird for Taylor.

Actually, all of this was probably weird for Taylor.

It was pretty weird for them, too.

The ambulance pulled away with Danny's truck in hot pursuit, and they popped away along the rooftops after them.

…

Monday, January 3rd, 2011.

"Are you sure you don't need anything, Taylor?"

Her father's pleading tone was like sandpaper. She knew that he couldn't help with anything that mattered.

Luckily, she hadn't picked up any crazy diseases or anything from the filth, so they let her go home from the hospital as soon as the blood tests were finished.

Besides, she had other things to worry about right now.

Like why she remembered cutting herself out of the locker. And following the ambulance. And waiting outside the hospital and copying strangers' faces to use later.

Why she could see the ceiling of her own bedroom right now, through the eyes of whatever the fuck was lying on her bed.

Part of her wanted to call the PRT and report an unknown parahuman stalker. She was still considering it.

But weirdly, whatever it was, it felt like… herself, somehow. It was bizarre. Like she suddenly had a new limb that acted autonomously.

It was time to go face the music, and her father couldn't do a damn thing to help. Not with this. Not with anything.

"No. I'm going to go lie down for a while, though. It's been a shitty day."

"Okay," her father still looked worried. "I'll knock when I get back with dinner."

He didn't comment on her language, which was nice. Silver linings of being locked in a tiny metal box filled with her own vomit and bugs and rotting, bloody-

Taylor cut off the spiraling thoughts before she could crack again. She'd already lost her shit once today.

She shivered and pushed the memory of its unfamiliar expression on her mother's face as deep as she could.

The shivering didn't stop until she made it to the top of the stairs, though.

The door to her own bedroom shouldn't be this intimidating.

Fuck it.

She opened the door and walked inside like she wasn't fucking terrified. What did she have to lose, anyway?

Sure enough, as expected, the thing wearing her face was lounging on the bed, hands behind its head without a care in the world.

Taylor walked across the room in silence and sat in her desk chair. It felt like her scowl would become permanently etched into her face. Her jaw hurt from alternating between clenching her teeth and forcing herself to relax.

"What are you?" Taylor asked finally.

The thing on her bed shrugged horizontally.

"No idea," it said.

That was… unhelpful.

"Could you not?" Taylor demanded. She meant to sound in control, but she just felt… whiny. Which made her even more pissed.

"Not what?"

"Look like me. It's fucking creepy."

"I thought it'd be less weird than seeing some random person in your bedroom," it said, crossing its legs, her legs, and staring down at her with her eyes.

"Well, it's not," Taylor said.

"Who do you want me to be, then?"

"I don't know. Someone else. Not my mom. Or dad. Or-"

Then the thing turned into Emma, and Taylor stood up so fast she knocked her computer monitor off the old desk.

Seeing her again, right there, lounging on her bed like it was nothing… it knocked the wind out of her like an elbow to the stomach.

A physical blow would have hurt a lot less.

Taylor took the part of her that wanted to cry and buried it even deeper.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She hissed.

"What? I thought you'd like to talk to Emmi," the thing had the audacity to smile at her. With Emma's face. "Don't you want to hear her say how sorry she is for all the-"

"You're not her!" Taylor yelled. Hopefully her dad had already left to get takeout for dinner. "You're not real. I don't know what the hell you are, but I need you to get the fuck out of my house and leave me alone."

"That's not very nice. No wonder you don't have any friends, if you treat them all like that," Emma's mouth said with a stranger's expression.

Taylor clenched her fists so hard she felt her fingernails break the skin of her palm.

She managed to resist the urge to throw the desk lamp at fake Emma's smug fucking face.

"I'll call the PRT," Taylor ground out through clenched teeth. "They'll find a way to get rid of you."

"You'll, what, call them on yourself?" It said sarcastically.

Taylor's mind went strangely blank.

"What?" She asked incredulously.

"You made me, dumbass," the thing said like it was explaining something obvious. "I can't go more than a couple blocks from you. I remember everything you remember, in real time. If I can see myself out of your eyes, which, by the way, your vision is absolute garbage, I don't know how you stand it. You need to update your prescription-"

"Get to the point."

"Touchy. But, if I know what you know, I'm willing to bet you know what I know. So, you already know what I'm going to say," it sat up on the edge of the bed and crossed its arms.

Emma's arms.

Fuck.

"Change into somebody else. Now," Taylor said coldly.

"Say 'please'."

Taylor threw her desk lamp at it.

Her aim was slightly off because the plug got ripped out of the wall, but the heavy lamp still clipped what she now recognized as her own parahuman projection's face.

Of course. Of fucking course she would get actual superpowers, just to summon a fucking asshole of a thing that she couldn't fucking control.

"Ow," her projection said in a tone of genuine surprise, touching its bloody lip.

Good.

"Get out of my house, and stay the fuck away from me," Taylor said as forcefully as she could. There had to be a way to make this thing listen to her. "As soon as I find a way to get rid of you, I'm going to lock you in a box somewhere and throw away the key."

"Best of luck with that. Trust me, I tried to leave your ass at the hospital. Hanging around there all day was boring as hell. If I can't get rid of myself, how are you planning to?" The projection rolled Emma's eyes.

"I'll find a way."

"I'm absolutely shaking with anticipation, can't you tell?" It deadpanned.

The projection flickered and suddenly Emma's face was perfect and unbloodied again.

It's fucking with me. On purpose.

Taylor honestly didn't know if she hated it or the real Emma more, in that moment.

"You're not her," Taylor hissed. "You're just an empty thing, a hollow fucking shell pretending to be a person. You're nobody."

The thing still wearing Emma's face just snorted derisively and smiled.

"Maybe I am."

…

Notes:

First chapter of a new idea I've had bouncing around for a while. I won't spoil the ins and outs of Taylor's power, but it will be fun to explore alongside her and Nobody. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is going to move all the furniture in your house two inches to the left.

Chapter 2: Lurk 1.2

Lurk 1.2

Sunday, April 10th, 2011

Taylor pressed her lips into a thin line behind her black neck gaiter. Caping may not be its intended purpose, but it was light, breathable, and covered her nose and mouth better than anything she'd tried to make herself. Plus, it was easily available at Walmart.

The rest of her costume was similar. Well, it wasn't so much a costume as it was a kid's idea of what a robber would look like. A plain black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up to hide her hair, and a cheap domino mask covering the upper half of her face above the gaiter.

In theory, she should never be interacting with anyone directly, but her anonymity was still important. More important than Nobody's, depending on the perspective. Nobody couldn't exactly do anything without her around.

Speaking of which…

"You could always just go by 'Pack Mule'," Taylor remembered Nobody saying aloud just a moment ago on the rooftop one block to her right.

Remembering words that she hadn't actually said was a bizarre sensation. Not necessarily weirder than anything else about Nobody, but it was strange to experience in real time.

Nobody's most recent memories were immediately available to her without any noticeable delay, and vice versa. She just had to focus on remembering, instead of whatever she was personally experiencing. It was annoying, but not overly debilitating. She could deal.

"No. For one, it's stupid, and two, it might be racist? I'd have to Google it," Taylor said softly. The street was empty, as far as she could tell, but talking to herself was still awkward.

"What about 'Sherpa'?"

"That's definitely racist."

"She Who Holds the Zip Ties?"

Taylor sighed in frustration and focused on the memory of Nobody's jaw breaking under her elbow in their most recent sparring session. They always forgot to clench, not that it really mattered for them. Lucky asshole.

"What? It's not like your brooding is getting us anywhere either," Nobody popped and reformed in a crouch on top of a stilted water tank.

Why was coming up with names so hard?

Anxious energy buzzed in Taylor's stomach. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, even though she kept them tensed tightly in her hoodie pocket.

Nobody had the opposite problem. They could barely stay in one place for more than a few seconds, popping and reforming all over the place like the world's most sarcastic whack-a-mole.

Taylor wasn't optimistic about their plan for the evening. Probably because she was just a regular human, therefore fragile and prone to dying in cape fights.

Aside from technically being the source of Nobody's existence, her only actual power was seeing out of Nobody's eyes.

"Overwatch?" Taylor suggested to the empty street.

"Meh. Boring."

"Commander?"

"Too military. Also, pretentious as heck."

"Fuck you."

"Probably wouldn't be popular with the heroes, but the gremlins on PHO would get a kick out of it."

Taylor kicked a broken piece of pavement and immediately regretted it. She should have invested in a pair of combat boots or something.

"Specter?"

"Oh, that's fun. Spooky. Especially if you're going to pretend that your 'power' isn't limited to me. Specter is always watching, and she'll know if you're naughty."

It still sounded a bit too villainous for her tastes, but it had a sharp edge to it that was appealing.

She wasn't going to do any actual fighting, but, if it somehow became necessary for her to show herself, she would need a mysterious persona to protect her. The Thinker who played support for Reboot. Definitely not a Master, or whatever the hell she actually was.

It wasn't like her power listened to her, which took quite a bit of the fun out of being a Master.

Still, if Nobody annoyed the villains half as much as they annoyed her, maybe they'd all run away out of sheer exasperation. Taylor didn't have that option, unfortunately.

"I'll go with that for now. If I think of something better, I can always switch later. It's not like I'm going to be announcing anything tonight."

"You never know," Nobody grinned from the roof of an abandoned apartment building.

According to her father, the city never quite recovered from Leviathan's decimation of the international shipping industry, even years after the Reckoning. It was getting better, but the local economy had been dealt a death blow that wasn't easily undone.

"We need to buy you a Vespa or something. Walking is so fucking slow," Nobody complained.

Taylor felt them straining against their range limit, just under two blocks from her physical location. Well, remembered, technically, but the lines got blurred when she tried to remember things that Nobody was experiencing in real time.

She remembered resenting their chains, even though she wasn't the one who was bound.

A quarter mile, approximately, in every direction. It seemed to fluctuate slightly depending on both her and Nobody's mood, but they couldn't nail down any concrete patterns.

Nobody didn't complain as often, anymore. There wasn't anything either of them could do about it.

Just like Taylor tried not to complain about their existence. They didn't ask for this any more than she did.

That didn't make the situation less annoying, though.

For a moment, Taylor considered stopping just to make them run into the range limit, like a dog hitting the end of the leash and getting yanked back by the throat. A month ago, she definitely would have done it.

Instead, she sighed again and started jogging.

Her footsteps sounded too loud, against the silent night. She lost herself in the rhythm, letting her mind drift to the more interesting arial view from Nobody's eyes.

The city looked better from a distance. Taylor crushed the part of her that wished she was the one who got to teleport across the rooftops. Wished she was the one who got actual powers, even if her power was still technically hers. Griping about it wouldn't make it any more fair.

Life wasn't fair. Obviously. No use brooding over it, like Nobody said.

Their mindset could be somewhat helpful, occasionally. Not that Taylor would ever say that out loud.

Nobody could probably remember her thinking about it, if they bothered to try. They didn't spend very much time reminiscing over Taylor's memories, though, and she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

It wasn't until half an hour later that Taylor noticed something in the corner of Nobody's vision.

The projection had already popped away by the time Taylor could open her mouth, but that wasn't surprising. Nobody never stayed still for long.

"What was that? Stop… turn to the left," Taylor said, splitting her attention between Nobody's memory and her own surroundings. She didn't want to bust her head open on a curb. "No, your other left. Go back to that taller building. No, not that… dammit. The one with the billboard."

It was like herding cats. Blind cats. Blind cats who'd gotten ahold of the Merchant's supply.

Taylor bit her lip and didn't complain too much.

"Oh. That's a lot of fire."

They weren't wrong.

From the higher vantage point, perched on top of a billboard, Nobody could just make out an ominous orange glow spreading on the other side of the Docks.

"Hell yeah, let's go do hero shit," Nobody said. They sounded entirely too excited about the inevitable destruction.

Taylor jogged in the direction of the fire as quickly as she could without completely wearing herself out. In theory, she just had to get into position and Nobody could do their thing.

When they finally made it within a few blocks of the fire, it became obvious that this wasn't just a cooking accident gone wrong.

Ducking into an alley and peeking around the edge to get a better view of the burning street, Taylor tried to mesh her ground floor view with Nobody's rooftop surveillance. It felt like it should give her a headache, but her power seemed to handle the majority of the disorientation. At least her stupid, barely functional parahuman abilities were good for something.

Patches of deep, unnatural black smoke dotted the chaotic battlefield. From Nobody's vantage point, Taylor could just make out the forms of men decorated with green and red hunkered amongst them. They looked unsure whether to risk firing blindly into the clouds, turning nervously and aiming dangerous-looking guns into the darkness.

The ABB. Which meant that Lung or Oni Lee was probably around here somewhere. Shit.

"Get me closer, get me closer, get me closer," Nobody was practically vibrating with excitement.

Confronting one of the more violent gangs in a major brawl wasn't her idea of a good opening night, but they didn't have many other options now. Besides, Taylor was curious, despite her better judgement. What was going on over there?

She made her way carefully between the buildings, doing her best to stay off the main road.

She wasn't sure whether she should try to get onto the rooftops or not. Probably not. It would make it harder to run if somebody spotted her.

Gunshots broke the night, partially muffled by the unnatural black mist, but still startlingly loud. She'd heard gunshots before, obviously. This was Brockton Bay. But never so close, or with the intention of intervening.

Not that she would be the one intervening.

"C'mon, let me fuck 'em up," Nobody peeked over the edge of a building at the closest group of gangsters.

Lung and Oni Lee were both pretty good matchups for Nobody. At the very least, they could probably stall the villains until the Protectorate arrived.

They just had to figure out who they were fighting. Taylor crouched in an alleyway and pulled out her rewritten notebook.

"Are you fucking serious?" Nobody griped. "Fine, you figure out who these assholes are fighting, I'm gonna go zap 'em."

"Nobody- shit, I mean, Reboot, wait-"

Too late.

Nobody popped and reformed in the street next to three ABB members. The car they hunkered behind definitely chose the wrong parking spot for the evening.

"Shit, I forgot to think of a good opening line," Nobody said. Out loud. To the gangsters.

Taylor fought back the urge to groan, mostly because that would be the stupidest way to get discovered. Possibly even more stupid than Nobody's quips. Or lack thereof, in this case.

The three ABB rank and file gunmen jumped and swung their weapons to face her irritating projection.

Nobody popped again just as they fired, appearing behind them in the blink of an eye.

"Down low, too slow," they grinned, jamming one of their tasers into the neck of the closest gangster. "That's a pretty good one, right? Besides, wasn't it your job to come up with the quips?"

"Don't talk to me while they can hear you," Taylor hissed. It kind of gave away the game if Nobody kept yammering out loud to her.

"C'mon, it's not like they're going to- SHIT!"

One of the remaining gunmen was quicker to turn than the other, and Taylor winced at the memory of bullets ripping Nobody's body apart like tissue paper.

"Maybe we should have gone with the red costume after all," Taylor muttered.

Nobody popped and reformed again, their gray and blue costume now unblemished and pristine once more. For their Reboot persona, they borrowed the body of a tall, lithe man with a sharp chin and thin lips.

Their costume was left intentionally generic, just a tight bodysuit with a matching domino mask. Nobody had enough trouble remembering all the details as it was.

As for weapons…

The last gangster in this group dropped to the ground with the sharp buzz of an electrical shock.

Nobody tried to spin their tasers like some kind of wild west gunslinger. They immediately dropped both.

They popped and reformed, and Taylor could feel them commit to pretending that never happened.

"The Undersiders," Taylor whispered. It was easier for Nobody to remember words said aloud rather than amorphous thoughts. "Fairly new. Powers aren't nailed down. Grue generates darkness, though."

"More villains to punch, then. Neat," Nobody replied as they reformed on a rooftop even closer to the majority of the screaming.

Taylor was torn. Should they even get involved in a scuffle between villain gangs?

She tucked her notes away and kept skulking forward despite her trepidation. Nobody needed as much room to move as she could provide without putting herself in immediate danger.

Nobody popped back down to street level and tased another pair of gangsters. They'd made the mistake of assuming the alleyway behind them was empty. Of course, it was, until Nobody arrived.

Nobody even managed to resist the urge to talk for more than five seconds. Taylor was so proud.

The roaring from behind the clouds was getting louder. Taylor decided to take a risk and poked her head around a corner to get a new perspective, since Nobody was busy zapping gunmen.

Clouds of darkness blocked her view of anything more than a hundred yards away, but this section of road looked deserted.

So far, so good. Now, they just needed to-

The dark suddenly bulged outward in her direction and Taylor ducked back in a panic. Had someone seen her?

She couldn't be sure.

Taylor crouched behind a dumpster and turned to glance out the entrance of the alleyway. Nobody caught her unease and flickered into existence on the rooftop across the road from her current hiding place.

Things got out of hand far quicker than she could have imagined.

The comet of black smoke continued its rapid advance down the street in their direction.

A skinny man in a demon mask appeared in the middle of the road, right in the path of the incoming cloud.

He yanked on something attached to his bandolier, and Taylor realized too late that he was holding the pins to four grenades hanging on a chord.

The same four grenades that promptly exploded just as the approaching darkness reached him.

Even thirty yards away, in the alley, behind a dumpster, the explosion made Taylor's ears ring. She closed her eyes, pressing herself into the brick wall of the alley and trying to focus on Nobody's memories to distract herself from her rapid, pounding heartbeat and the pain in her ears.

The street below Nobody's perch was suddenly very crowded.

From within the smoke cloud, a massive four legged monster stumbled out and crashed through the front window of a shop.

Several more identical men in demon masks appeared in quick succession and opened fire into the remaining darkness with their pistols. Taylor hadn't really considered the full implications of Oni Lee's teleportation delay. If he kept moving, there could be any number of him acting at any given time, if only for a few seconds before the clones crumbled. PHO focused on the suicide bomber aspect.

Nobody was so focused on the explosions and the gunshots, Taylor almost missed that two figures were dragging themselves towards her alley.

At least, until she heard them just feet away in the dark corridor of trash and discarded wooden pallets.

"Shit, Grue, come on, you have to-"

A blonde woman… girl? Wearing a light purple and black bodysuit froze as she caught sight of where Taylor stood pressed against the wall. The villain seemed to be doing her best to physically haul the limp body of a tall man in black leather across the pavement, with limited success. Even behind her domino mask, Taylor saw her eyes widen dramatically.

Fuck.

Taylor's mind was strangely blank. She couldn't decide whether to call for Nobody's help, run, or to try to help the bleeding man in the motorcycle helmet. Were heroes supposed to save dying villains? How did that even work?

"Oni Lee will find you unless somebody distracts him, right now," Purple Girl said hurriedly.

Taylor didn't trust her, but that didn't mean she wasn't right. Nobody could deal with the grenade-happy suicide bomber, and she would figure out what to do with the Undersiders.

This was supposed to be simple, dammit. Fight the bad guys. Save some victim of an assault or mugging. Easy.

No, of course her life had to be fucking complicated.

"Reboot, keep Oni Lee busy," Taylor forced herself to unfreeze.

"Aye aye, Captain."

"Help me carry him," Purple Girl said, glancing back towards the mouth of the alley

"Tell her to say please," Nobody popped and reformed behind two of the clones. They jammed one taser into each of their necks and reduced the demon-masked copies to a fine puff of dust before popping away to track down the original.

Taylor ignored Nobody's advice. Although, it really wouldn't kill the blonde villain to say please.

"Please," Purple Girl's crooked grin looked forced, even to Taylor.

Okay, apparently she was psychic, or something. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Taylor grimaced behind her gaiter and grabbed Leather Guy's other arm. Probably Grue?

"I have a first aid kit in my bag," Taylor muttered.

"We just need to get far enough that he won't see us from the street," Purple Girl replied. "Tattletale, by the way."

"Specter."

"You new, Specter?"

Taylor just glared at her. She wasn't about to tell a villain that it was her first night. Plus, her power was a bit busy fighting Oni Lee.

"Bring it on, obviously inferior teleporter!" Nobody yelled dramatically from a rooftop, popping and reforming every few seconds to keep up with the never-ending tide of clones.

A bullet hit their forehead and their brain splattered the rooftop behind them. Nobody reformed, right as rain, and kicked Oni Lee between the legs.

It didn't do anything besides crumple that particular clone, but Taylor could tell it made them feel better.

The roaring from down the street got louder.

"Fuck, Lung isn't giving up. Bitch's dogs aren't going to be able to keep up with him," Tattletale said, almost to herself.

They made it around the corner and Taylor slung her backpack off her shoulder, ripping it open and rifling through the contents of her first aid kit.

"You're certainly… prepared," Tattletale whistled, peering into the full backpack.

Taylor's only useful power was being prepared. She wasn't going to fuck up the one thing she could actually do for herself.

"Reboot keeps me around for a reason," Taylor said. It was part of their plan, to obscure the true nature of their partnership.

Of course, that didn't mean shit if Tattletale was actually psychic.

Taylor blinked and forced away the new memory of being reduced to a fine paste by a grenade. Nobody just laughed in Oni Lee's face and tased him again.

Well, tased one of his clones. Unfortunately.

Taylor refocused on the shredded leather and flesh in front of her.

The bleeding was bad. Multiple lacerations. He'd need stitches.

The concussion was equally worrying. People didn't get knocked unconscious nearly as easily in real life as they did in the movies. The line between unconscious and dead was thinner than it seemed. Grue's motorcycle helmet looked quite a bit worse for wear, and she couldn't begin to ascertain the damage without removing it.

"Pressure here, here, and-" Tattletale hovered while Taylor worked.

"Yes, I know," Taylor hissed. She had a fair bit of experience with first aid. Sometimes, Nobody forgot that she couldn't just reform after their fights. "Help me, then, if you're such an expert."

Tattletale narrowed her eyes but grabbed a roll of gauze anyway.

"Specter, you're about to have a dragon problem," Nobody's uncharacteristic urgency caught her attention.

Taylor shoved the whole roll of gauze under Grue's costume for good measure, then zipped her backpack closed at the same moment that Tattletale jumped to her feet.

A huge, flaming man with metal skin burst through the brick wall to their left. He didn't appear to notice them at first, planting one massive foot in the pavement and tossing a monstrous beast away from him, back into the burning building.

Lung.

I'm going to die.

"We're not going to die," Tattletale muttered. "Come on. Send your… Reboot, to stall him."

Taylor didn't like the way she phrased that, but they had bigger things to worry about.

Dragging Grue along with them, they took off back down the alley the way they came. Through Nobody's eyes, Taylor saw Lung turn…

Then Nobody popped and reformed on Lung's shoulders, crouched like the world's snarkiest gargoyle. Taylor winced at the memory of Lung's heat cooking their skin and muscle from the inside out.

Nobody didn't seem to care, and proceeded to unceremoniously shove both of their tasers directly into Lung's eyes.

His screams echoed through the alley behind them.

"What the hell even is your power?" Tattletale gasped through clenched teeth as they stumbled back onto the street.

Taylor decided not to answer that.

"Fuck," Nobody cursed as they died again, reforming on the burning roof overhead. "He's too fucking hot, and not in the fun way. I can't do shit to him before I die."

"Oni Lee," Tattletale warned suddenly.

"Shit. On it."

Taylor wasn't sure she liked being the middle man, even if there was no way Tattletale could know that Nobody could hear what she heard. Could she?

Maybe.

Fucking Thinkers.

The demon man appeared just down the road, but Nobody was already there. More gunshots pierced the night and Nobody's costume ran red, but the bullets didn't make it to Taylor and Tattletale.

Nobody tased him again.

Flames spilled out of the alleyway as Lung got closer.

Three of the enormous, armored beasts crashed into the pavement next to them, throwing up a rain of concrete shards and dust.

"Get your ass- who the fuck are you?" A menacing cape in a dog mask growled from the back of the closest monster.

"She's coming with us!" Tattletale called. "Go go go!"

Wait a second, she wasn't…

A blast of fire roared towards them, and Nobody popped into being between her and the dragon. Taylor felt them burn alive, but they managed to absorb the worst of the heat as they died.

The villain in the dog mask grabbed Taylor by the back of her hoodie like a toddler and tossed her onto the monster's back.

Fuck, no, I-

Oni Lee appeared and dropped two more grenades less than ten feet away. Nobody followed, kicking one live grenade into Lung's face and diving onto the other.

Explosions rocked the broken street. A shower of blood and bits of Nobody coated Taylor and the Undersiders even as the beast beneath them leapt backwards with more agility than its size would suggest.

Someone screamed. Taylor belatedly realized it was her.

Lung roared again.

"Get the fuck out of here," Nobody yelled, tasing Oni Lee for good measure.

Just as their monstrous steed started to race away, a famous cobalt blue motorcycle rounded the corner several blocks ahead of them.

Taylor laughed. She couldn't help it.

Out of the frying pan…

She realized that she might be a bit hysterical. Just a smidge. Almost dying does that to a person. Remembering dying does that to a person.

"Stand down," Armsmaster ordered through the loudspeakers built into his bike.

The Undersiders didn't answer. They also didn't slow down, so Taylor assumed the answer was no.

"Regent," Tattletale yelled.

Armsmaster leveled his halberd at them, the engine of his bike thundering as he accelerated.

"No dice, armor's locked," a guy in a ren-faire costume yelled over the wind and the roaring from the back of the other beast.

"Specter!" Tattletale screamed. "Stop him, or you're going down with us!"

Tattletale sounded panicked, and Taylor figured she was making this up on the fly, but she wasn't necessarily wrong.

Fuck.

Taylor clenched her fists around the armored plating beneath her.

I don't want to be a fucking villain.

She also didn't want to die. Or get arrested.

Her dad would be ridiculously pissed either way.

How did those become the only options? How did things spiral so quickly?

Par for the course, when it came to her luck.

Maybe she could go to the PRT after this was over. Explain, or something.

Yeah, right.

As if the authorities had ever taken her side before. The PRT would probably be happy for an excuse to lock her up when they inevitably realized what Nobody was truly capable of. They were hiding the Stranger aspect of their powers for a reason.

"Reboot. Armsmaster," Taylor ordered.

"You sure?"

No snark, for once. Even Nobody realized that this would be hard to come back from.

"Fuck if I know. Take him down."

Nobody popped into existence directly in front of Armsmaster's halberd. He fired some kind of rapidly expanding net out of the head just as it impaled Nobody through the chest.

The net failed to deploy correctly, mainly because it got tangled up inside Nobody's ribcage.

They popped and reformed again, this time sitting on the motorcycle in front of Armsmaster.

"We've been trying to reach you about your vehicle's extended warranty," Nobody called over the cacophony. They wrapped themselves around Armsmaster's head and shoulders from the front like a koala, hanging on for dear life and blocking his vision as he desperately tried to dislodge them while also keeping his bike upright.

The Undersider's beasts turned a sharp corner, claws digging deep trenches into the asphalt. Taylor barely remembered to hang on in time, so focused on Nobody's memories that she momentarily forgot where her real body was.

Lung barreled down the street in hot pursuit behind them.

Literally. Ha.

Hopefully Nobody remembered her making that joke, even to herself. They'd be so proud.

Armsmaster managed to rip Nobody off of his face, but he seemed unsure about whether or not to throw them from the speeding motorcycle.

Nobody solved that problem for him by popping out of existence and reforming directly in front of his tires.

Armsmaster's bike careened sideways at the unexpected speed bump.

Right smack into a very angry Lung.

"Wow. I totally, definitely planned that," Nobody reappeared on a roof nearby. "I need a raise."

"Well, apparently, we're villains now, so…" Taylor muttered darkly. Tattletale glanced over at her with an unreadable expression.

Oni Lee appeared on the street in front of them.

Taylor wanted to scream. How did this shit keep happening?

Luckily, Nobody was on the ball, for once. Being in a life or death situation was all it took for them to actually pay attention.

They popped into existence on the road and managed to tase the clone before he could pull the pins on his bandolier.

"I'll keep him busy. Try not to get eaten by that monster thing before I get back. Also, see if you can get the blonde's number. Or the fancy boy. Either is fine."

Taylor hoped they could feel her rolling her eyes.

The Undersiders, plus Taylor, raced away through the Docks, the echoing roars and explosions fading behind them.

…

Saturday, February 26th, 2011.

Breaking and entering was child's play, as long as there weren't any security alarms.

Nobody popped into existence in the middle of the dusty, abandoned gym.

They wore a tall body today, nice and muscled without being completely inflexible. The evening air felt strange on their bare scalp.

The beard was odd, too. They stroked it thoughtfully while they got their bearings.

They honestly weren't sure if being a guy was more fun or not. Taylor didn't seem to care, as long as they weren't her. Or her parents. Or Emma.

She was so prickly, sometimes. Ugh.

Nobody strolled across the cracked tile floor, looking for the front entrance.

Nope, that's the locker rooms. Hmmm.

They eventually found what looked like it had once been a reception desk. That was encouraging.

The double doors were locked with a length of sturdy chain, even if it was pretty rusty.

Not a problem. With a pop, Nobody was holding their trusty bolt cutters.

Never underestimate the power of a good set of bolt cutters.

It took a bit of finagling, but once they got the blades in place, this strapping dude's muscles were more than up to the task. Very convenient. They'd have to add him to the regular rotation.

The dilapidated hinges protested as the doors creaked open.

"Took you long enough," Taylor complained as she walked through. "Do you know how frustrating it is, watching you wander aimlessly while I'm stuck out in the cold?"

"You're welcome," Nobody rolled their eyes. They weren't exactly offended by Taylor's vitriol, but that didn't mean they had to put up with it.

Well, they kind of did, seeing as she technically created them and they were stuck with her, but still.

They didn't have to put up with it gracefully.

Taylor dropped her bag and began pulling out her gear. Nobody bounced on their toes, impatient to get started.

"Considering that you're the one we have to wait on most of the time, you could be a bit more gracious about it," Nobody offered while they waited for Taylor to wrap her hands.

"Fuck off. It's not my fault I'm an actual person," Taylor shot back.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it is. I mean, I guess it could be your parents' fault," Nobody shrugged.

Taylor just glared at them.

See? Prickly.

Finally, Taylor stood and shucked her heavy hoodie, leaving just the tank top underneath. Nobody could feel her fighting against her remaining insecurities, even though it was just them. They obviously remembered exactly what she looked like. It was ridiculous, honestly.

Baby steps.

Taylor took a deep breath and eyed them warily.

"Alright. Turn into me," Taylor ordered. The words seemed painful to her, for some reason. Nobody couldn't imagine why.

"Say please," Nobody replied.

Taylor's glare darkened further.

Nobody was tempted to see how long she would last, but they were too eager for a good scuffle.

"Fine, fine. No need to get all huffy," Nobody popped and suddenly there were two identical Taylors in the old abandoned gym. "Y'know, I'm pretty sure it would be more fun to hit me if I turned into-"

"That's not going to be a problem," Taylor hissed between clenched teeth.

"Well, if you're sure-"

Taylor's fist crashed into their face and stars danced before their eyes.

Nobody stumbled backwards and laughed.

"There you go! What did that wrinkly old bastard in those Aleph movies say? Let the hate flow?"

For some reason, that just seemed to make Taylor even more angry.

Excellent.

They hadn't even been trying, that time.

They reformed, and the fight was on.

The sparring, if it could really be called that, served multiple purposes. Taylor was smart like that.

Since Nobody was wearing Taylor's body, they both learned everything twice as quickly. Maybe more so. Nobody remembered what Taylor learned, Taylor remembered what Nobody learned, round and round they went. By fighting themselves, they learned how to counter their own tricks, and came up with new ones that the other would remember.

It probably would have been a lot more effective with someone to help teach them, but they couldn't exactly explain this to anyone else. Taylor had found some instructional videos online, and Nobody watched them while she was stuck in school. They both remembered them without issue.

It was also cathartic. Mainly for Taylor, but Nobody had some things they didn't like thinking about, too.

They knocked aside a jab and landed a quick shot to Taylor's gut.

I didn't ask to be stuck with you.

Taylor swayed sideways to avoid a clumsy haymaker and twisted into a savage uppercut that broke several of their teeth. They would need to remember to clench their jaw next time.

I don't like it, either.

Nobody reformed and ducked under a follow up punch, spinning to sweep Taylor's legs out from under her. She always forgot to keep her root.

Taylor didn't hesitate to drag them down with her.

I didn't ask to be born.

They tumbled across the old wood floorboards in a tangle of limbs, and Nobody managed to lock one knee under Taylor's legs to wrench themselves on top.

But, we're stuck with each other.

Taylor wasted no time headbutting them directly in the face, her forehead smashing their nose into a pulp with a sickening crunch. She was so delightfully brutal.

Nobody smiled, through the blood and the pain.

So, we might as well make sure that we're the only ones who can hurt us.

…

Notes:

Lots of fun, Nobody figures out some decent quips, Taylor immediately gets in over her head, as is tradition. I'm going to try not to dawdle for too long in this story. More details about Nobody's power. Taylor's power? Whichever. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. Don't forget to leave Dr. Pepper and cookies out for Nobody, even though they don't actually eat. Its the thought that counts.

Chapter 3: Lurk 1.3

Lurk 1.3

Monday, April 11th, 2011.

The business card felt like it was burning a hole in Taylor's pocket. She wasn't even sure why she brought it to school, especially with Emma and her cronies on the hunt for anything to make her life worse.

She couldn't resist, though. It was tangible proof that last night actually happened. Aside from the hoodie covered in Grue's blood.

Fuck.

It wasn't even a real business card. Just a blank, heavy piece of white cardstock, with 'T.T.' and a phone number written in purple ink.

Because of fucking course Tattletale had a purple fucking pen and blank business cards on her person while fighting the ABB. Why the fuck not.

Her adventure with the Undersiders had ended as abruptly as it began, once the explosions and roaring stopped. As soon as they were free from Oni Lee, they'd dropped her like a hot rock. She honestly didn't know whether she was relieved or insulted.

Of course, Tattletale insisted that it was only because Grue was actively bleeding to death and they needed to get him to a special villain doctor for special villain treatment, or whatever. Probably true, but still. She'd saved their lives. They could have been a bit more gracious about it.

Nobody was proud of her for getting Tattletale's number, though, even though Taylor hadn't asked for it. Despite Nobody's quips, Taylor was reasonably sure that Nobody wouldn't actually… do that… with anyone without talking to her first. She didn't even want to think about waking up with memories like that in her head without warning.

Most superheroes probably didn't have to worry about their power fucking around behind their back. Or getting themselves killed in stupid, overdramatic ways.

She could still remember the sound of Armsmaster's tires crushing their-

Don't think about it.

Right.

The business card.

Taylor wasn't going to call her.

She wasn't going to be a villain.

Last night was just a fluke. An accident. She hadn't intended to get involved like that, but, in her defense, it was objectively better to run away with the Undersiders than get shanked by Oni Lee. Or arrested by Armsmaster. Or burned alive by Lung. Or any combination of the above.

That didn't mean she had to like it.

In hindsight, it wasn't that bad, though. Her 'costume' was basic and extremely anonymous on purpose, and Nobody could change into anyone. Armsmaster probably hadn't gotten a good idea of their powers from five seconds of chaotic struggling and two maybe suicides. She would just get a different costume, Nobody could wear a different face, and they'd be heroes next time.

It was unfortunate that she'd have to ditch the name Specter, though. It was a cool name.

She knew Nobody didn't particularly care one way or the other. Villain or hero, they were flexible. At the end of the day, they were just bored and generally restless. Not to mention violent, when they were in the mood. And possibly masochistic, despite their complaining and assurances to the contrary.

Their conscience would probably prevent them from hurting innocent people, but that was about as far as their moral compass extended, as far as Taylor could tell. They just preferred to have morally justifiable targets, if possible.

Nobody was currently smoking on the roof. They did that a lot.

She didn't know why they smoked fake cigarettes made of their own power, and didn't care enough to remember. It was probably a stupid reason, anyway. Smoking was stupid by definition, after all. Even if Nobody couldn't exactly get cancer, it was still pointless and gross.

"It's the aesthetic. What's the point of sitting on the roof all day if I can't bask in my melancholic solitude?"

Of course Nobody decided to pay attention now.

"I'm mainly watching to make sure Sophia isn't about to try to kill you again."

Taylor didn't really consider the locker to be attempted murder. Nobody disagreed.

"Look, for better or worse, I like being alive, which means you have to stay alive, too."

Aaaand now Taylor felt guilty again. Right on fucking schedule.

Taylor idly wondered what Panacea would see if she tried to heal Nobody. Their body looked and felt like normal flesh, but still.

She repressed the memory of Nobody diving on a grenade, the explosion of blood and viscera coating her in a hot, sticky-

Nope. Don't fucking think about it.

"What a fucking idiot. I don't think she's even listening. Are your ears fat, too?"

Oh. Right. Emma's cronies were still talking. They'd managed to corner her in the hallway while she was internally debating the pros and cons of trying to go undercover with the Undersiders.

At least they hadn't heard her talking to herself. That would have been a pain.

"You'd think she'd realize that no one wants her here, but that would require thinking, so I bet it's difficult for someone like her," the blonde to her left said snidely.

Taylor didn't even bother to look at them. They were pathetic.

She couldn't help but watch Emma, though.

Green, green eyes. The sharp, cruel edges there didn't hurt as much as they used to, but it never really stopped.

Green used to be her favorite color.

Taylor put those thoughts back in the pit, where they belonged. She didn't have the time or energy to work through any of that again. What's gone was gone and it was never, ever coming back.

Going undercover with the Undersiders probably wasn't worth it. She'd have to approach the PRT about the idea, and they'd probably shoot her down and force her to join the Wards. And that was a whole pain in the ass she just didn't want to deal with.

"I'm so looking forward to the day she finally plucks up the courage to kill herself. We should make it a holiday."

That was actually a pretty good one. Bravo… Julia? Maybe? Taylor didn't really care. They were all the same, and she was pretty sure they all shared the same brain cell. Maybe they took turns, like the Greek ladies with the eye and the tooth or whatever.

This whole 'corner Taylor and talk shit' strategy wasn't the most inventive tactic in the world, but it was annoyingly effective. Seriously, who were they performing this song and dance for? Emma?

Taylor would just walk away, but Sophia was watching like a hawk, and she'd be more than happy for a violent confrontation.

A confrontation that would lead to Taylor getting expelled or something, while the rest of them came off smelling like roses. As always.

Taylor didn't bother to look at Sophia. She just stared at Emma, and waited. The Queen would come down from her high tower soon.

They were getting predictable, if nothing else.

"God, she reeks, too. I'm sure even the ABB brothels have showers. Or do you just like smelling like that?"

Aaaand they were back to unoriginal bullshit. Joy.

"What's the plan for dealing with this, again?" Nobody said out loud on the roof.

Taylor couldn't exactly respond right now. She did her best to send Nobody a feeling of exasperation, along with a general need for more information. She needed to find something she could leverage over Emma and Sophia, without the PRT realizing that there was a Stranger at Winslow. The others would fall into line if she cut off the head of the snake.

She clenched her jaw. There had to be something she could use against them.

The constant, simmering anger under the surface was familiar. It was her companion most days, now. Had been, since she got back from summer camp, almost two years ago.

Almost two years since her Emma left.

This… monster, wearing her face, smiling her smile, staring out of her eyes…

It was worse than when Nobody turned into her. It was why Taylor hated it so fucking much when they did.

"What's the matter, Taylor?" Emma finally said.

The rest of the group went quiet, waiting for whatever killing blow their leader had planned for her today. It was the height of entertainment, for them.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Emma knew her better than anyone else, knew exactly where the gaps in her armor were, and she didn't hesitate to slide in the knives anytime she saw an opportunity.

"You look upset," Emma continued.

I wonder why?

Part of her wanted to just let Nobody punch her.

The rest of her knew that she never, ever wanted that memory in her head.

It wasn't fair, and she hated it so fucking much…

But she'd never be able to actually hurt Emma. Didn't even want to, really.

It was one of the many reasons she hated herself. What kind of pathetic, fucked up loser still loved-

"So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?" Emma's smile was smug, and cruel.

Fire flared in Taylor's veins and, for a split second, she almost forgot this wasn't Nobody and attacked her.

Fuck.

She knew that nothing was sacred anymore. That there was no line that Emma wouldn't cross to get a reaction out of her.

But that was still over the fucking line.

A year ago, the reminder of her mother's death and Emma's comfort would have broken her.

But she was long since broken, and the shattered pieces had been reforged in iron.

Six months ago, it still would have been enough to drag the tears to the surface, and make her run away to drown alone somewhere far from the serrated emerald knives.

But now…

Now, instead, the last bit of warmth she held for the girl she loved crystalized, and her heart turned cold as ice.

There was nothing there but dead, jagged edges, anymore.

They all seemed to be waiting for a reaction.

"I'm done crying over you, Emmi," Taylor spat. "You aren't worth it."

For the first time since that day, when her best friend died and this thing took her place, Taylor saw something crack behind Emma's eyes.

Good.

Maybe they could both be cracked, together. It was only fair.

The rest of the girls laughed at her. Taylor didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the broken green glass.

She was still so, so cold.

"Uhhh, badass, but there're still a lot of concerning feelings bouncing around in here and I'm-"

Taylor stopped listening. She wasn't in the mood for Nobody's shit right now.

She bent down to grab her bag, intent on storming away whether Emma liked it or not.

But, of course, Sophia didn't let her get that far. Her foot snapped out and stepped down on the strap, holding the bag fast to the floor with her weight.

She smirked down at her, taunting. Waiting to see what Taylor would do.

Sophia was the muscle behind Emma's words. Tall and wiry, she jumped at every opportunity for violence with the barest justification. Even the gang kids knew not to mess with her.

Taylor stood up.

She hadn't actually realized that she was taller than Sophia. And the rest of the hyenas circling her, now that she noticed. When did that happen? Or had it always been the case?

Taylor's blood was frozen. Her anger was sharp, and dangerous. She could feel the echo of Nobody's bones breaking under her hands.

Sophia held her stare, defiant and confident in her superiority. So sure that Taylor would buckle, and flee, just like every other confrontation for the last year.

Just like that day, when Sophia stole her Emma away from her.

Taylor smashed her forehead into Sophia's nose as hard as she could.

The dull, damp crunch of shattering cartilage was music to her ears. Sophia stumbled backwards with a pained wheeze.

Silence fell. Taylor had expected more screaming.

"Oops," Taylor said. Her voice sounded flat, and dead, even to her own ears.

"Well… Fuck," Nobody muttered.

Sophia looked too shocked to act. Her expression was a hilarious mix of furious, incredulous, and pained. Her eyes watered and her broken nose poured blood down her front and onto the floor.

Before any of them could respond, Taylor grabbed her bag and walked away.

"Was that part of the plan?"

"Nope," Taylor said in a low voice once she was out of earshot.

"What do we do now, then?"

"We improvise."

Nobody snorted.

"I thought that was your specialty?" Taylor's grin was anything but happy.

"Fine, fine. Go try to keep yourself out of prison, and I'll see if I can find anything helpful in the hornet's nest you've stirred up," Nobody grumbled.

Taylor managed to make it all the way to her next class before a teacher arrived to escort her to the principal's office.

…

Monday, April 11th, 2011

Nobody stood up and brushed the residual roof dust off their skirt.

The body they wore today was tall and well proportioned, although not as tall as Taylor, with rich dark skin and goddess braids that they couldn't possibly pull off if they had to actually put them up themselves. Luckily, their power was convenient for cheating with stuff like that.

They liked this body quite a bit. It was a shame they would have to leave it behind so soon. Maybe they'd wear it again tomorrow, to make up for the loss.

Nobody sighed and took a moment to listen in on Taylor lying through her teeth.

The principal didn't seem to believe the 'incident' had been an accident, either.

Well. Taylor could figure that part out herself. Nobody had work to do.

Sophia was probably in the nurse's office, right?

Nobody decided to take a chance. Worst case scenario, they got a bit more dusty for no good reason, but they could just pop that away.

First, they needed a new body. Someone smaller.

If anyone had been watching the Winslow High School roof, they might have wondered why that toddler was holding a cigarette. And also how a three-year-old got onto the roof in the first place.

Luckily, no one was watching.

Nobody put the cigarette out and tucked it into the pocket of their overalls. They might want it later.

They popped again, and reformed in the HVAC duct above the nurse's office.

A teenager definitely wouldn't fit in here, and shoving a child into the air ducts was generally frowned upon, but Nobody wasn't limited by things like common sense or basic decency.

They were, however, having trouble not sneezing. Fuck, it was dusty in here. Winslow needed to clean their HVAC system.

Eavesdropping while holding back the mother of all sneezes was tough, but Nobody's mother didn't raise no quitters.

Not that they had a mother. Taylor didn't count.

Maybe they should start calling her Mom just to see her face, though. That'd be pretty funny.

Probably not worth the drama, though.

"...don't care. Doesn't fucking matter whether it was actually an accident or not," Sophia hissed into a cell phone in the room below. Her voice sounded muffled, both because of the odd vantage point and the broken nose. "You really want that fucking snake looking into this shit? Into my civilian shit?"

Interesting.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sophia replied after a moment. "Tell them it was a fucking accident, and the others were just worried about me or some shit. I don't know. I'll handle the bitch, just keep Calvert's nose up Armsmaster's ass where it belongs."

The plot thickens. With multiple C's.

Nobody didn't know a Calvert, but that didn't mean much. They didn't know a lot of people. Most people, actually.

They definitely knew an Armsmaster, though. They'd become very well acquainted with the business end of his halberd not twelve hours ago.

Apparently, whoever was on the other end of the phone agreed with Sophia's version of events.

Why was Sophia covering for Taylor? Or, at least, trying to keep her own actions on the down low?

This was promising. Taylor would be pleased.

Taylor still got a three day suspension despite it being 'an accident'. Whatever. That would just give them more time to stalk… follow Sophia and Emma, anyway.

Taylor was dreading the upcoming conversation with her father, but Nobody thought it was probably a good idea. He needed to know that the bullying was still a problem, but Taylor was finally standing up for herself.

Even if she could have chosen a slightly more convenient time to do so. Preferably with fewer witnesses.

"Good. Yeah, I'll meet them in a sec, as soon as the coast is clear," Sophia said down below.

Nobody couldn't see clearly through the slats in the vent, but it was pretty easy to tell when Sophia finally got up and left.

Part one, complete. Good job, Nobody. You're so good at this.

Thanks, Nobody. It's nice that someone around here appreciates us.

They could feel Taylor rolling her eyes. The principal glared at her even harder.

Score. Taylor liked to pretend she was ignoring them, but she wasn't. Total cinnamon roll, under all the barbed wire and lemon juice.

Nobody sneezed.

Whoops.

Luckily, the room below was still empty. No harm, no foul.

Time to see what Sophia was up to. She said she was meeting somebody.

Nobody popped back onto the roof in their teenage body of the day. They crouched low behind an air conditioning unit, just in case.

There was a white, official-looking van parked in the loading zone around the side of the school. A white, official-looking van that definitely hadn't been there earlier.

Hmmmmm.

This might call for… aggressive improvisation.

Taylor didn't actually disapprove, for once. Nobody could feel how curious she was, underneath the irritation at being stuck in the principal's office getting read the riot act while Nobody got to do cool detective shit.

Well, too bad. Them's the breaks of being an actual person.

Speaking of which…

This called for a disguise.

Nobody was so excited. Pretending to be a Mover who couldn't die was fun, but this was their jam.

It was the little details that really made a disguise come together.

An older man, but not too old. Rough around the edges, but not too rough. Fit, five years ago, but gone a bit soft spending the day at a school rather than out on the force.

Nobody popped, and a police officer with short black hair and two days' worth of stubble walked around the corner of the building.

Fucking kiddy gangers think they're tough shit. They'd get eaten alive without the fucking capes to keep the heat off. I didn't spend ten years working the beat just to end up telling wannabe hard asses to cool their heels and dealing with fucking entitled-ass parents who can't even read the damn signs or park in the right spots.

The accent was important too. Really tied the persona together.

"The tip of the tongue, the teeth, the lips," Nobody muttered as they walked. "She sells sea shells…"

A good helping of Dockworker, but not too much. Officer Clark wasn't an actual blue collar worker, after all. He just wrote them parking tickets and lived in their neighborhoods. A bit of Downtown, but forced. Artificial. He wished that a school resource officer's salary was enough to afford a place in the Towers.

Nobody knocked on the window of the van.

The man in the driver's seat was dressed in a plain button down and khakis, but that didn't mean much.

Nobody gestured impatiently. They didn't have all fucking day, and the buses would be pulling up soon.

The man cracked the window. Asshole. He knew he was supposed to roll it all the way down. Being difficult on purpose. Rude, honestly.

"Hey, buddy, you can't park here," Nobody said with the assumption that they'd be listened to. "Gonna have buses coming through soon."

"We'll be gone in a moment, as soon as we pick up our charge," the man said calmly.

"Wasn't asking, bud-"

The man flashed a very official looking PRT ID.

Hell yeah.

Whatever Sophia was up to, it involved the PRT.

Nobody felt Taylor's cold rage filter through their shared memories.

Ah. PRT. Armsmaster. Violent Teenager.

There was a pretty good chance that Sophia Hess was a Ward, which explained why she didn't want too much scrutiny. And why the school covered for her and Emma. And a bunch of other stuff.

Oooooh. Taylor was pissed. This was gonna be fun.

"Gotcha, sorry for the interruption," Nobody said. Officer Clark didn't want anything to do with cape shit. They had a tendency for making investigations, and sometimes good cops, disappear.

Nobody nodded to the nice PRT agent and skedaddled.

They didn't get paid enough to deal with that bullshit anyway.

Once they were out of sight again, they popped back onto the roof. Quite a bit more carefully than before, now that they knew the PRT was watching.

They peeked around the side of the auditorium access door. From this angle, they could just see the closest exit to the van, without being in sight of the van itself.

Sure enough, a minute later Sophia Hess walked out of the school towards the PRT van, busted up face and all.

Gotcha, bitch.

Maybe not yet, but they had a lead, now.

Nobody felt the moment that Taylor changed her mind, fury and betrayal and disappointment radiating across their shared memory.

Tattletale was in for an interesting phone call.

Just as soon as Taylor was done having an extremely awkward and generally unproductive shouting match with her father, of course.

Excellent.

They lit another cigarette.

Everything was coming up Nobody, today.

…

Friday, July 24th, 2009.

Emma's room was always a mess, but Taylor liked it. It was a bit like Emma herself; always too much to be contained by little things like rules.

The mess was currently the result of the explosion of clothes that had recently gone off around the walk-in closet. Taylor stayed out of the splash zone, sitting cross legged on the bed amongst the sea of stuffed animals and pillows.

Emma liked her nest.

"The first day of school is still literally months away," Taylor grinned at Emma's anxious expression. "You don't have to plan out your whole outfit just yet."

Emma shot her a glare, but there wasn't any heat to it.

"Masterpieces take time, Tay. Not all of us can pull off graphic tees and old jeans."

Taylor wasn't sure about the 'pulling it off' thing, but she liked her clothes. They weren't worth worrying about as much as Emma claimed, but Taylor wasn't about to complain about Emma's enthusiasm.

She'd still give her crap about it, though. It was her job. It was in the best friend contract and everything.

"You're ridiculous. Besides, you know you're going to buy a new outfit anyway."

"The process is still important!" Emma insisted, tossing another top onto the bed next to Taylor. The splash zone was spreading. "You only get to make a first impression once!"

Taylor rolled her eyes.

"We're going to Winslow. With, like, half the same kids from last year. It's not a runway shoot," she said.

Emma glanced over at her, and her face fell a bit. Taylor got distracted for a second. Her eyes were very, very green.

"You didn't have to pick Winslow, you know," Emma said. It wasn't the first time they'd talked about this, but Emma still kept worrying about it. Silly. "We'd still be friends if you went to Arcadia."

Taylor wasn't willing to risk it.

"It wouldn't be the same without you."

It really wouldn't. Emma lit up everything she touched, Taylor included.

Luckily, Emma dropped the subject quickly this time. There were still multiple outfit combinations that hadn't been assessed or discarded yet.

Taylor wasn't exactly helpful in the process, but she tried to give good feedback. Mostly she just watched, though. It was nice.

Finally, Emma started losing steam and flopped down on the bed next to her, red hair fanning across the unmade sheets.

"Ahhh! Actual high school," Emma's enthusiasm was infectious, as always. "With, like, parties and dances and dates! I can't freaking wait."

Taylor could definitely wait for most of those things. Unless it was with Emma. Maybe parties wouldn't be too terrible with her.

Or dates.

Taylor pushed that thought away.

"I doubt it's that wild. The movies lie, everyone knows that. I'm looking forward to getting to pick all our own classes, though," she said.

"You would be, dork," Emma grinned up at her, upside down from her current vantage point. "Don't take all honors stuff and leave us non-geniuses behind."

"Never." Like she'd ever want to avoid Emma. "I'd go crazy if I didn't get to see you at least once a day. Besides, you'll see me at lunch. And in, like, gym class."

Emma groaned dramatically.

"They can't seriously still have gym class in high school."

Emma hated exercise. And getting sweaty. Or dirty. Taylor was well aware of this because she said so, quite often.

"I think they call it personal wellness, but it's just gym," Taylor's smile widened.

"Ugh."

The quiet was comfortable. The afternoon sun left slanted pillars on the mess of clothes through the window. Taylor turned another page in her book. She hadn't actually gotten much reading done today, but it was nice to have the option. It was a pretty good book.

"See, you can't give me crap about the outfit thing," Emma said randomly. "We still have ages before school starts, and you're already reading."

"This isn't even on the required list!" Taylor protested.

"That just proves my point."

"I don't think it does," Taylor returned her eyes to her book. "Some of us geniuses read for fun. It's one of the requirements for the genius certification, actually."

Emma stuck her tongue out at her. At least, Taylor was pretty sure she did. She was still studiously looking at the book, on principle.

The room fell silent again. Taylor could just barely make out the sound of Zoe making dinner downstairs. Anne was playing music in her room next door. It had a fun beat.

"Hey," Emma's voice was weirdly apprehensive. Taylor looked up and met her eyes. Green was her favorite color. "I have an idea, and you're not allowed to laugh."

As if.

Okay, she might laugh. But with her, not at her. It was different.

"Why would I laugh?"

"Because it's a stupid idea."

"I doubt that," Taylor definitely didn't laugh. At all. "Besides, stupid ideas are the best kind."

Emma sat up and pursed her lips. Taylor felt the strangest urge to squirm under her stare. Something in her stomach was weirdly tight.

"Okay. So. You've never kissed anyone, right?" Emma asked, her words stumbling over themselves. Usually Taylor was the one who talked too fast. "You totally would've told me, if you had, right?"

Taylor's brain short circuited momentarily and the thing in the pit of her stomach dropped.

"What?" She stammered out. "Obviously not, I mean… what?"

What?

Why was Emma asking?

She knew that she hadn't… wouldn't… what?

Emma bit her lip and looked away while Taylor drowned.

"I want to be your first kiss," Emma said. Why was it so hard to breathe? Were heartbeats supposed to do that? Taylor was reasonably sure they weren't. "Um, I think we should be each other's first kiss, I guess. Before we get into, like, real high school stuff. So we know what it's like, and because, well… it's you."

Oh. So it was just, like… practice, or something. Get the awkwardness out of the way. Totally. Nothing else. Sure. Sure. Good. Great.

The butterflies in her stomach started a brand new gymnastics routine. They were going to take top prize at State, for sure.

Right. Emma was waiting for an answer. And blushing. Wow.

"I… what? Are you sure?" Taylor said.

Stupid. She couldn't manage to just say yes? What was wrong with her? Emma would think-

"Yeah," Emma said softly. "Really, really sure."

The butterflies began their award winning performance on the uneven bars.

"Oh. Um, yes. Definitely yes," Taylor said. Her voice didn't even shake that time. Score.

"Cool," Emma said. She hopped up with slightly weird, jerky motions, and ran over to lock the door before sitting back down on the bed next to Taylor.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"How do you-"

"Do you want to-"

They both cut off and Emma giggled. Taylor would have laughed, too, if she'd been capable of making any sounds other than incoherent stammering at this exact second.

Do it, do it, do it before she changes her mind and decides this is a stupid idea after all, idiot.

Taylor leaned in. She forgot to close her eyes. Was that required? How were you supposed to aim with your eyes closed? What the heck did lips normally do when they weren't kissing? How-

She chickened out at the last second and kissed Emma on the cheek instead of her original target.

Emma giggled again. Taylor's stomach skipped straight over butterflies and moved on to those giant moths that are so big they don't have mouths and die within twenty-four hours or whatever. Atlas Something?

Not the time, Taylor.

"No, you dork," Emma smiled. "Like this."

Then Emma kissed her, for real, and Taylor couldn't think of anything else. She did manage to close her eyes, though.

Emma's lips were really, really soft. And warm.

The air in the room felt cold by comparison, when Emma finally pulled back.

Taylor opened her eyes.

Green, and still so, so close. Perfect.

"Wow," Emma said. Her smile was perfect, too. Just like everything else.

"Yeah."

Very articulate. Well done.

Taylor had no idea how long they sat there, faces just inches apart, on Emma's bed. Not long enough. Never long enough.

Eventually, Emma sighed and sat up straight again, stretching her arms over her head and twisting her back with a series of satisfying sounding pops.

Taylor wasn't quite sure she could move. Maybe ever again.

"I kinda don't want you to leave for camp," Emma said.

"I kinda don't want to either."

'Kinda' was an understatement.

Emma groaned and flopped backwards again, legs dangling off the side of the bed.

"It's just a month," she said. "I'll survive, I suppose. Somehow. I'm gonna call you every day, though."

"Every day?" Taylor grinned. The moths weren't gone, but it was nice that things were still… normal. Easy. Like they hadn't just-

"Maybe every other day," Emma smiled back.

"I think I have to be the one to call you, anyway. They have a pay phone or something."

Emma didn't comment on Taylor's lack of a cell phone. She was nice like that.

Silence fell again, but there was absolutely no way Taylor was going back to her book now.

It took, frankly, Herculean amounts of courage, but Taylor decided that if she was going to deal with the overactive, starving moths anyway, she might as well get something out of the deal.

Besides, it wasn't like she had anything to worry about. This was Emma.

"Can I kiss you again?" Taylor asked.

Emma's answering smile was blinding. Taylor's heart stuttered an uneven staccato. Maybe she should have that looked at.

"Anytime you want, Tay."

…

Notes:

This was a lot of fun to write. Getting into some Stranger shenanigans. The contrast between happy, 'before' Taylor and Emma and 'after' Taylor and Emma was tough, but I'm pleased with it. I'm not going to be making any apologies or downplaying what Emma did in this story, if I can help it. Also, more AU elements. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome as always. I don't own Worm. Nobody stole your identity and signed you up for several National Geographic subscriptions. My sincerest condolences.

Chapter 4: Lurk 1.4

Lurk 1.4

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011.

For the hundredth time, Taylor wished that her 'costume' offered some level of protection.

She knew, consciously, that it was a waste of time. Nobody could appear to defend her faster than she herself could move in a pinch, and any kind of body armor she could currently afford would probably be worse than useless. It was better to be able to run and dodge effectively.

Knowing that didn't necessarily make her feel any less exposed.

Very few of the streetlights in this section of the Docks actually worked. She felt fragile, walking down the moonlit streets in just her hoodie and jeans.

Although, less so than she had yesterday. Breaking Sophia's nose and walking away with just a suspension was a hell of a confidence boost.

The weight of her taser, pepper spray, and expandable security baton was also comforting, but she doubted that it would do much against supervillains.

"So… you wanna talk about it?"

Taylor scowled.

"About what?" She said quietly aloud. Nobody couldn't exactly walk next to her, since the Reboot costume would be a bit conspicuous. They liked popping along the rooftops more, anyway.

"Your dad, Sophia, Emma, the PRT thing… I'm sure there're other troubling bits I've forgotten about," Nobody said, strolling casually across the flat top of an abandoned department store a block and a half away.

Taylor glared at the empty street. Hopefully Nobody could feel it.

"No."

She didn't.

Didn't want to think about Sophia being a Ward. Maybe. They still needed more evidence.

Didn't want to think about her father's impotent anger. She couldn't trust him not to do something stupid if she put any faith in him.

Didn't want to think about Emma, period.

She had to focus. Meeting with villains wasn't something to do lightly, even if Nobody made it less risky than it would be on her own.

Taylor arrived at the meeting point and looked up at the roof in question, six stories up.

Ugh.

The luster of caping faded slightly without a Mover rating. No one talked about climbing rusty metal stairs in the middle of the night.

Nobody popped into existence on the fire escape and lowered the ladder for her.

She should have worn gloves. Next time.

Her Specter costume hadn't changed. Black hoodie, jeans, backpack and running shoes. Black neck gaiter and domino mask.

It was basic, but practical. She shoved aside the imposter syndrome and general feelings of inadequacy. She was as much a cape as any of the Undersiders. She could do this.

The morning runs and sparring were paying off. Taylor was barely winded when she made it over the crest of the building.

The Undersiders were already present, probably because they didn't need to climb the stairs the old-fashioned way. Hellhound and her beast sat quiet and ominous in the corner, while the other three arrayed themselves facing her.

"Don't you know you're supposed to wait at least three days before calling?" Tattletale said in lieu of a greeting. "Might seem desperate, otherwise."

Taylor raised an eyebrow behind her domino mask. After dealing with Nobody's snark for months, she wasn't as easily rattled as she used to be.

Speak of the devil, Nobody popped into existence next to her with their hands on their hips. They were back in their Reboot body, gray and blue costume, tasers and all.

"Well, they say that when you've got it, you might as well flaunt it," Nobody chirped. "Life's too short to wait. Never know when a rogue dragon might pop up and eat your face."

"Thanks for the save on that, by the way," Grue said before Tattletale could jump back in. "We probably would've been toast without your assistance."

"Probably?" Taylor said. The cold from earlier hadn't quite faded.

"Almost certainly," he said. He had a nice voice. Smooth and deep. "I'm Brian. Nice to meet you."

Then he took off his helmet.

Grue… Brian… turned out to be an attractive black guy with perfectly straight cornrows. She could feel Nobody saving his face for later use, and fought back the impulse to roll her eyes.

Taylor narrowed her eyes suspiciously, instead. What was their game? From what she understood of cape politics, villains didn't just give up their identities without cause.

Well. She wasn't about to fall into their trap, if they were hoping to get her to follow suit.

"Specter. And this is Reboot," Taylor said.

"City's hottest and least-racist disposable meat shield, at your service," Nobody quipped.

Taylor didn't react, but hopefully Nobody picked up on her irritation.

"See? I told you she wouldn't trust a face reveal," Tattletale said as she took off her mask anyway. "Lisa. Really, though, we owe you one. That was a mess."

"Messes are our specialty," Nobody grinned.

Part of her wanted to protest, but after her impulsive actions yesterday… she didn't quite have a leg to stand on.

Lisa's eye twitched slightly. Taylor didn't know what Tattletale's power was, but there was something there. She'd made some uncannily accurate comments about Taylor's power while they were running from Lung.

The 'fancy boy', as Nobody called him, followed suit and took off his intricate Venetian mask to reveal a pretty face and pale eyes. He smiled crookedly at her.

"Alec, at your service," he said. "And Bitch over there is Rachel. She doesn't do introductions, though. Just be happy she isn't siccing the dogs on you."

"Still might," the woman in the dog mask grunted darkly. Taylor didn't think she was joking.

Nobody tensed next to her, ready to throw themselves between Taylor and the dog's teeth if Bitch made a move. Taylor was momentarily distracted by Nobody's internal deliberation, debating to themselves whether shoving a live grenade down the beast's throat would be too risky.

Too risky to her. Not to themselves, or the Undersiders.

Huh.

Maybe she should give Nobody more credit. Underneath all the quips and sarcasm… well, she'd unpack that complicated mess of feelings later. It had been a long time since anyone cared, and she hadn't thought about Nobody in that light before.

"Nothing to worry about," Tattletale said hurriedly. "We just want to talk."

Taylor tried to slow down the flow of adrenaline. Being this close to villains was stressful, no matter their assurances.

She'd have to get used to it, if she was going to be one of them. That thought actually helped focus her nervous energy.

Sophia's a fucking Ward.

If she was a hero, how bad could villains be? How much did the PRT know?

"So, talk, then," Taylor said. "Why the grand reveal? You don't even know why I called you."

"I'm good at guessing," Tattletale replied. She had a pretty smile, even though it had an edge that Taylor couldn't help but compare to… others. "Besides, I was hoping you would. We've got an offer for you."

Taylor raised her eyebrows behind her mask.

Tattletale bent down and grabbed a package from the ground at her feet. She held it out and shook it gently.

Better safe than sorry.

"Reboot?"

Nobody nodded and popped, reforming right in front of Tattletale. Taylor took a little bit of satisfaction in her almost-imperceptible flinch.

They took the… lunchbox?

Then they popped and reformed back next to Taylor.

Without the lunchbox.

A dull clang echoed in the night as the metal lunchbox hit the roof, still back in front of Tattletale.

Taylor resisted the urge to face-palm.

"Oh. Right," Nobody said sheepishly.

They popped over, picked up the lunchbox, and walked back across the roof like a normal person.

"Tasers are fine, but not lunchboxes?" Alec asked.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, pretty boy," Nobody grinned.

"Careful. Flattery will get you everywhere," Alec's tone was light but his eyes still looked flat. Dead.

Taylor understood the feeling.

She opened the lunchbox.

That's a lot of money.

She didn't bother to count it.

"Why?" Taylor stared levelly at Tattletale.

Were they really that grateful for the save?

"That's either a gift, or a signing bonus, depending on what you and Reboot think of our offer. We need more capes if we want to take on higher profile jobs. And I'm betting you two will fit right in," Lisa said.

"You don't know us. Or our powers," Taylor pointed out.

"From what I hear, you took on Oni Lee and Lung at the same time while I was busy taking a nap," Brian said, glancing over to Reboot before looking back at her. "And you kept me from bleeding out in the meantime. That's not nothing. I'm assuming you two want to… stick together?"

If only they knew.

"Yes," Taylor bit out. She still didn't trust them, and she wasn't sure about joining in full. That wasn't why she called.

"Having backup wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," Nobody muttered.

Their minds went to the same place. Having someone to keep Taylor safe while Nobody was fighting would be beneficial.

Taylor didn't like feeling useless, but they weren't wrong.

Plus, if Sophia was actually a Ward…

"What's your offer, then? Clean and simple?" Taylor demanded.

"Two grand each per month retainer just for being on the team," Brian nodded towards the lunchbox. "Plus your share of any jobs, and a say in what we take on. We put most important stuff to a vote. Like recruitment targets."

Taylor didn't miss Bitch's glare. Apparently she hadn't voted for this.

"What if I don't agree with a job?" Taylor asked. She may not want to be like Sophia, but she wasn't happy with the idea of hurting people.

"We can cross that bridge when we get to it," Tattletale said. "That's why we vote. I don't think any of our usual jobs will offend your moral sensibilities, though. Our boss mostly has us targeting the other gangs. That's what got Lung so hot under the collar."

Taylor didn't like the sound of that. The 'boss' part, at least. Stealing from the gangs was fine.

"Boss?" she interrupted.

"Need to know only, sorry," Brian said. "But… our track record is solid so far. With you two on board, I think we could really break into some of the higher profit gigs. Plus, less risk all around, if your performance Sunday night is anything to go by. What do you say?"

What did she say?

Taylor chewed her lip behind the gaiter.

She didn't really want to be a villain, per se, but…

She wanted something. The daily bullshit, Emma, Sophia, Winslow… Nobody was right. It was killing her, slowly grinding her down until she was barely surviving, let alone thriving.

She couldn't deny that she felt more alive than she had in ages. Awake. She probably wouldn't have headbutted Sophia, or stood up to Emma, without the jolt of electricity to wake her up from the endless monotony.

The Wards were out. Probably. Fucking Sophia.

The PRT wouldn't like Nobody, anyway.

What else did that leave?

The other gangs were a hard no. New Wave was a family thing. Faultline's crew was a bit… much. She didn't want to travel for work.

She and Nobody could be independent heroes, like they originally planned, but… their first night out just proved that without backup, she'd inevitably end up getting caught in something she couldn't handle alone eventually.

Nobody was in. Taylor could feel their excitement for actual jobs. They had entirely too much fun with the whole police officer thing and the eavesdropping.

Taylor did her best to send them a mental reminder that they weren't telling the Undersiders about their shapeshifting. Not yet, at least.

"I need information more than I need money," Taylor said slowly. "If you get me that, I'm in."

That was why she originally called them in the first place.

Brian looked a bit confused, but Tattletale smirked.

"They do say knowledge is power," she said. "What are you looking for?"

Taylor took a deep breath. If she did this, it would be one step further away from her original, high-and-mighty plan. It would be admitting, on some level, that her tormentors mattered. That she really wasn't just going to ignore them and leave them behind one day.

Although, that ship sailed when she broke Sophia's nose. What was the point of lying to herself?

"I want everything you can find on Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes," Taylor said.

Tattletale's smile widened. Sharp, and dangerous.

"Oh, sweetie," she said. "It'd be my pleasure."

…

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

Nighttime was a bit… boring, overall.

The quiet was kinda nice. Peaceful.

Peaceful, and boring.

Nobody sat on the roof of Taylor's house, lit cigarette dangling loosely between their fingers. They spent a lot of their time on rooftops, come to think of it. They had to exist somewhere, and it was the easiest place to stay out of the way.

Less effort, this way. Less explaining. Maybe at some point Taylor would get them an actual ID. Or the Undersiders could, since they were pretending to be a separate person with them.

They even had a salary. Imagine that.

They pulled their phone out of their hoodie pocket and idly scrolled through the list of videos they'd bookmarked earlier. Different accents, different faces. Martial arts tutorials. Not needing to sleep gave them a lot of extra time, and Taylor would remember whatever they learned when she woke up.

Sometimes they just… didn't feel like it, though. For better or worse, they were alive, and there was more to life than relentless progress.

So, instead of a video, they opened up their folder of pirated music. Copying wasn't the same as stealing, and they were apparently a villain now, anyway. Such a dastardly criminal they were.

They idly wondered if copying the phone counted as stealing. A quick trip to the mall to lay hands on a decent smartphone, and now they could replicate it as easily as they did cigarettes.

Hell, they pirated whole people. What was one phone, by comparison?

You wouldn't pirate a car!

Ha. Yes, they would.

It didn't seem to work like that, though. Unfortunately. Some things were part of them, and others weren't. Their clothes. Their phone. Their gear. Their weapons. All easy to pop and reform.

A car? Not so much.

They'd tried to reform with Armsmaster's bike, or armor, but it didn't work.

Sadness and despair.

Not that they knew how to drive. Maybe they would steal a car to practice, now that they were villains. There wasn't much else to do at night.

Picking the right song for the moment was difficult. Too many choices, honestly. Maybe crime didn't pay, after all.

They were about to make a selection when they saw her.

A dark figure in a hoodie and a hockey mask faded into tangibility as they landed on a rooftop three houses away.

Shadow Stalker.

Hot damn. Lisa was right, then. Not that Nobody doubted her investigative skills, but still.

That didn't answer the most important question, though.

What the fuck was Sophia doing here?

She might be just spying on Taylor, waiting for the right time to fuck with her. Sophia had no way of knowing that Taylor was a cape.

Or, she might be here to kill Taylor in her sleep as retribution for the broken nose. Sophia had already proven that she was dangerous. If she decided to use her power to hurt Taylor, things could spiral quickly.

The hockey mask angled right towards them. They weren't exactly hiding, and the ember from the cigarette was probably a dead giveaway. It wasn't like they'd expected anyone else to be joining them on the rooftops at 4:00 in the morning.

Well… fuck.

Nobody's mind raced. Their current form was androgynous and plain, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood up. For the vibes. Surely Sophia couldn't see their face from there, in the dark.

A smile crept onto their face as a brilliant and irresistible idea popped into their head.

Taylor told them to improvise, right?

She couldn't get too mad at them for doing what she asked.

Okay. I can do this. Just have to focus.

Nobody kept their clothes the same, but swapped to wearing Taylor's face.

They couldn't teleport in front of Sophia. Didn't want to give the game away that easily. They just had to keep her focused on them, rather than the girl sleeping in the bedroom below. They were disposable. She wasn't.

Tasers were also a no-go. Too distinctive. Besides, that wouldn't be half as satisfying.

The gap between the houses was further than it seemed, but it wasn't like they were worried about falling. Jumping between buildings was much easier without fall damage enabled. No issues committing to a leap.

Nobody jumped to the house next door, then jogged across the roof and leapt again.

Sophia's masked face was blank and unreadable, but Nobody liked to think that she was confused.

They landed on the same roof as their unexpected visitor.

Now… did they let Sophia know that they knew?

Fuck it. Improvising, away!

"Hess," they said in Taylor's cold, angry tone. Of all the voices to mimic, this one was by far the easiest.

Sophia tensed. Nobody smiled with Taylor's lips.

"Hebert," Sophia said. She sounded off balance.

Good.

What would Taylor say?

Hmmmm.

"Back for seconds?" Nobody grinned. "Didn't figure you for a masochist, but everyone's gotta have their thing, I guess."

Okay, so maybe that wasn't what Taylor would have said. Whatever. It'd be fine.

They were getting antsy. They wanted a good fight, and Sophia was perfect for it. A challenge and a necessity, all wrapped up in an angry, violent package.

"You got lucky," Sophia ground out through clenched teeth.

"Keep telling yourself that," Nobody chuckled. "So, what now? Gonna use your fancy shadow powers to put me in my place? The big bad Ward, coming to beat up the local pariah?"

Come on, come on, come on…

"You tell anyone, and you're fucking dead," Sophia hissed.

"Aww, I'm flattered. So much trouble over me? I wonder… do your bosses at the PRT know what you get up to in your spare time? Maybe someone should enlighten them," Nobody taunted.

"I warned you, bitch."

Fuck yes.

"Not gonna lie, breaking your nose felt good, Stalker," Nobody said, watching her opponent warily as they circled. "But you've got a lot more to answer for."

Blood pounded in their veins. Would Sophia go straight for a kill shot, or did she want to prove she could beat Taylor the old fashioned way? How far would she go?

Nobody was so fucking excited to find out.

For a moment, Sophia just watched her as they mirrored each other's movements. Careful steps across the sloping roof of Taylor's neighbor's house.

Sophia broke first, and she was fast. A quick jab with her gloved off-hand flew towards their face. Testing the waters, and trying to get in an easy hit.

If Nobody weren't so used to Taylor's brutal openers, they might not have gotten their hands up in time. Still, they had multiple sets of muscle memory to rely on, even if they were still an amateur.

They slapped Sophia's punch to their right, forcing her momentum across their body. They hadn't accounted for the slope of the roof, though, and Sophia pushed off the elevated surface to close the distance between them and threw her right elbow at their jaw.

Nobody did manage to remember to clench this time, but damn that still fucking hurt. Salt coated their tongue.

Sophia was close, now. Nobody brought their right knee up and drove it hard into her gut. The sound of the breath leaving Sophia's lungs brought a bloody smile to their face.

Then Sophia lunged forward and headbutted them in the nose. Unfortunately for her, the angle was awkward and she was already hunched from the gut shot, so it didn't quite manage to break their nose.

Nobody almost laughed.

Then they slammed their forehead down into Sophia's hockey mask.

Turnabout was fair play, after all.

Sophia stumbled backwards away from them, crouching to stay upright on the slanted roof.

Nobody spat out a gob of bloody fluid and advanced.

Come on, Stalker. Bring out the big guns. Show me what you got.

They feigned a jab like Sophia's, but pulled back to shift their weight and throw a heavy hook with their right hand. Unfortunately, Sophia saw through them, and pushed their cross to the side. She drove two lightning fast low punches into Nobody's ribs, and they swore they heard a crack.

That, at least, they could fix without being obvious, when they had a moment.

Nobody bodily shoved Sophia away. She lost her footing briefly on the slope of the roof, and Nobody launched a kick at her center mass.

Sophia leapt backwards and turned to shadow, returning to corporeality on the next roof over.

Nobody used the distraction to reform with unbroken ribs. They kept the blood running from their split lip and nose, though. Taylor didn't have powers, after all.

"If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying, I guess," Nobody said, taking a running start to leap after her opponent.

"Fuck you, Hebert."

Good.

They landed hard, and Sophia didn't waste any time lunging to shove them off the roof.

That… was a surprisingly good tactic. As far as she knew, only one of them could easily handle a two story fall.

Nobody grunted and grabbed at Sophia to try to keep their balance, but she turned to shadow and their fingers caught nothing but empty air.

Fuck, this was going to hurt.

Not as much as getting burned to death by Lung, but still.

Air briefly whistled past their ears. Their back flared in pain as they hit the grass with a dull thud, followed immediately by a flash of light and ringing in their ears when the back of their head hit the ground. At least it was softer than concrete.

They reformed their brain to get rid of the concussion. They kept the other aches. Gotta sell it.

Sophia watched them from twenty feet up, peering over the edge of the gutter.

Nobody pulled themselves to their feet.

"Gonna run, then, Stalker?" Nobody called breathlessly. "I thought I was dead, or whatever. Are you as shitty at murder as you are at being a hero?"

Sophia jumped from the rooftop, turning to shadow on the way down and reforming in front of them.

"What the fuck, Hebert," Sophia demanded. "What's your fucking deal?"

"No deal," Nobody coughed. Their lungs still hurt from the fall. "Just wondering if you're going to finish what you started, or leave me hanging here."

"You're fucking crazy."

"If I am, you and Emma get all the credit," Nobody replied.

It was at that moment, two houses away, that Taylor decided to return from dreamland.

"Fucking hell, shit… what… WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Hopefully Danny didn't hear that. It might be a bit difficult to explain.

"I'm not fucking around, Hebert. You tell anyone, and I'll kill you. Don't think I won't."

"I mean, you're making a pretty good show of not killing me, right now," Nobody said.

"This is NOT part of the plan!"

Taylor was still catching up. Remembering new things after waking up was a weird feeling. Not that Nobody had experienced it themselves, but they remembered.

Sophia stalked forward, yanking a compact hand crossbow off her belt as she went. She grabbed Nobody roughly by the front of their hoodie and pressed the bladed bolt to the underside of their chin.

"I'll fucking do it. I swear I will," Sophia hissed. "You don't fucking matter. You're just a pathetic, shitty-"

Taylor caught up to what they were planning, and she was not happy about it.

"Don't you fucking dare, Nobody-"

Nobody spat another mass of blood and saliva directly into Sophia's face, just for good measure, then reached up and pulled the trigger.

…

April 14th, 2011.

The morning sun reflected off the low waves of the Bay. It was a bit warm under her hoodie, but Taylor was more comfortable this way. Years of barbed comments from Emma and Sophia left their mark.

She told herself there was nothing to be worried about. For one, Emma and Sophia were in school. There was no way they or any of their minions would be out on the Boardwalk at 10:00 on a Thursday morning.

It wasn't them she was worried about, though, for once.

A familiar blonde girl sat down across from her and slid a drink her way. Part of Taylor wanted to refuse, but it was pointless. It wasn't like Tattletale was going to poison her. That would be ridiculous.

Lisa, when they were like this, Taylor reminded herself.

"You could've warned me you were sending me after a Ward's civilian ID. The PRT don't take kindly to folks messing with their kiddie capes," Lisa said.

"I didn't know for sure," Taylor shrugged. She glanced over at her… contact? Teammate? She hadn't officially said yes yet.

Lisa looked so much more put together than she did, and wildly different from their rooftop rendezvous. The sleeves of her light, cream-colored sweater were pushed up to just below her elbows, her hair tied back in an artfully casual bun. Taylor's old hoodie and worn out jeans were sad, by comparison.

"I feel obligated to ask what you're planning to do with this," Lisa said, idly tapping a flash drive on the table. "We have to be careful about what kind of heat we attract."

Taylor raised her eyebrows.

"You're worried about heat, after Lung?" She asked.

"Hilarious," Lisa deadpanned. "And here I thought Reboot was the funny one."

"I taught them everything they know."

That was kind of true. If you squinted.

Nobody was currently wearing the face of an old man, playing chess against themselves a block away. Taylor had no idea why, and was studiously not thinking about it.

The silence was awkward.

"Hess put a lot of effort into making my life suck," Taylor finally admitted. "If push comes to shove, I want some insurance."

"Your funeral, I guess. You won't find too many complaints from the rest of the team, though. She shot Brian, once upon a time. Before the PRT got their hooks into her. Alec still hasn't forgiven her for ruining our couch," Lisa said.

Taylor took a sip of her drink and shot her a questioning look. It was pretty good, actually. Chai tea wasn't her favorite, but it was better than coffee.

"Brian bled on the couch. A lot. Those crossbow bolts are no joke," Lisa added.

"Does he make a habit of getting cut to ribbons?" Taylor asked.

Lisa laughed.

"No, actually. He's the most careful out of us, most of the time. Plus, he's our smokescreen, so it's always a rough time if he gets taken out of the fight," she said. "Speaking of which, are you going to spill about what your power actually is, now that you're on board?"

"I haven't agreed to anything," Taylor protested.

"But you will," Lisa said confidently. "It's fun, and tempting, and you know it. We all do, that's why we do it. It's a rush. And, as long as we stick to relatively non-disruptive jobs, the stakes are just high enough to get the blood going, keep the cash flowing, without the risk of ending up in the Birdcage or anything like that. It's a game."

"Sunday night was a game?" Taylor asked incredulously.

Lisa waved away her concern.

"That was a fluke, and the boss is going to pull some strings to keep Lung busy for a while."

"I want to know more about this 'boss' before I join," Taylor said. She was getting more comfortable challenging Lisa by the second. It seemed like she actually wanted Taylor on the team, as crazy as that sounded.

"None of us know exactly who he is, but he's got pull at the PRT and moles in the other gangs. We're his wild card, pulling heists and distractions and whatnot to help him manage things. Keeps things balanced in the city, so no one gets too big a piece of the pie," Lisa explained.

Taylor frowned, but didn't comment. She still wasn't sure about working for a shadowy figure with unknown goals.

The rest was pretty damn tempting, though.

In for a penny…

"I'm a Thinker, I guess, depending on how you look at it. It takes a while, but I can kind of attune to someone and share… well, everything, with them. Senses, knowledge, memories," Taylor said. It felt weird to say out loud. It wasn't really a lie, from a certain angle. Just a lie of omission. Nobody was the only one who knew what she knew.

"You're going with 'psychic'? Really?" Lisa snorted.

Taylor glared at her.

"Not like that. It has to be willing, and they get access to all of my stuff at the same time." She didn't want Lisa thinking that she could, like, interrogate people or something. "I'm not attuning to anyone other than Reboot. We've already made our agreement, and I don't want anyone else in my head. It's crowded enough in there as it is."

"I see," Lisa said. She still seemed a bit skeptical, but Taylor didn't bring it up. Maybe she knew she was lying, maybe she didn't, but it didn't really matter. They would stick with the polite fiction until circumstances forced their hand.

Taylor decided to change the subject.

"Did you find anything on Barnes?" She asked. She hated that even saying that made her heart beat erratically. It was fucking pathetic.

"Not nearly as much. Pretty normal high school student, small time modeling stuff. Her dad represented Shadow Stalker after she finally got nabbed for manslaughter, so she probably knows too."

Taylor nodded. She figured Emma was in on it. Maybe that's why she turned on her so easily. She had a fancy new cape to play with.

"Also found a police report from back in summer of '09," Lisa continued. "She and her daddy got caught up in an ABB shakedown. Guess who intervened?"

Taylor's blood prickled. Emma had a run in with the ABB? Was that what pushed her over the edge?

"Shadow Stalker."

"Bingo. So, Miss Barnes gets saved by a mysterious vigilante and goes on to keep said vigilante out of prison. Nothing too wild, but still interesting, I suppose," Lisa said. "Now, you wouldn't happen to know anything about why Stalker was brought in with a broken nose on Monday, would you?"

"We had a… disagreement," Taylor said. She hadn't expected her identity to remain hidden from the Undersiders for much longer, regardless. She was here with her face out, after all.

"She's not going to let that go. You know that, right?"

Taylor couldn't help but smile.

"I'm counting on it."

…

Notes:

Look... Nobody doesn't always make good decisions. It happens to the best of us. Everything's fine. Totally cool. That's improv, baby. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged as always. I don't own Worm. Nobody is going to replace half of your forks with ever-so-slightly different forks.

Chapter 5: Lurk 1.5

Lurk 1.5

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

Taylor sat bolt upright in bed, adrenaline burning in her veins despite the lack of an active threat. Her head spun slightly from the quick movement. The dull red light of her alarm clock cast vague shadows on the walls of her bedroom.

4:09 AM

She wasn't sure why the time stuck out to her. It didn't matter.

"Fuck," she and Sophia both cursed out loud at the same time, two houses apart.

Nobody was going to be the death of her, literally and figuratively.

Usually, her irritating projection popped and reformed when their body became too damaged to keep functioning. They weren't much use to anyone as a corpse.

Unless they wanted to be, of course.

"Fuck," Sophia said again, letting Nobody's dead body fall to the grass and stepping backwards. Nobody's lifeless stare fell to the side, and Taylor could only just see Sophia in the corner of their eyes.

Continuing to remember new memories from Nobody's corpse was bizarre. Taylor tried to reconcile it with her basic understanding of human biology, and gave up almost immediately. Powers were bullshit.

Nobody's brain definitely had a crossbow bolt stuck through it. That part wasn't up for debate. She could remember what it felt like, tearing into her nerves and gray matter. Weirdly enough, the brain didn't seem to know what to do with that degree of physical damage, so it just threw up a vague headache and a strange, pathetic tingling.

They couldn't speak. They couldn't move. Obviously, since their cerebellum was mostly metal at this point.

Yet, they still existed. A ghost in the broken, biological machine.

A broken machine wearing Taylor's face.

She was going to kill them again, when this was over. What the actual fuck were they thinking?

Taylor didn't have time to unpack all of that right now. The clock was ticking.

It was difficult to get the pieces of her Specter costume together in the dark, but she couldn't risk turning on the light. Sophia might see.

Speaking of which…

Sophia dug in her pockets and pulled out a cell phone. At least, Taylor thought that's what she was doing. The angle was awkward. It wasn't like Nobody could turn their head. Or move their eyes.

"I need a ride," Sophia said quietly. There was a pause. "Yeah, that kind. Get your ass over here. I'll text you the address."

Shit. Sophia was going to hide the body. And Nobody didn't have infinite range.

Was there even a point in continuing the ruse? There was no way that Sophia didn't figure out that something was afoot. Taylor wasn't going to actually fake her death, regardless of whatever bullshit Nobody had been planning.

But… it would still be better if the body didn't just disappear out of the back of Sophia's car.

For a moment, Taylor considered calling the cops on Sophia, before immediately dismissing the idea. It would make it all too clear that Taylor was a parahuman, and the most Sophia would get would be… what? Attempted murder? Was it even attempted murder if you weren't actually attempting to kill a real person? Conspiracy to commit fake murder?

It was a stupid idea, regardless. Nobody had already fulfilled their quota of stupid ideas for the evening.

So. She needed a car.

She could steal her dad's truck, but she didn't know how to drive. Gotta add that to the to-do list.

That just left…

Taylor sighed. She'd originally been skeptical about Tattletale's insistence on having a burner phone, but it came in handy now.

What was the point of backup if she didn't use them? And what better time than when her arch-enemy was on her way to hide her partner's body? If this didn't count as extenuating circumstances, what the hell did?

Tattletale had probably already figured out her power anyway. Her lie was paper thin at best.

Taylor flipped the shitty little prepaid phone open, and dialed the only number currently saved.

"Most people just text 'you up,' you know," Tattletale yawned. "Actually calling is so last year."

"Tattletale. Do you have a car?" Taylor asked, pulling her gaiter and domino mask into place.

"I told you she'd come mess with you. I thought you had a plan?" Tattletale apparently jumped several steps ahead in the conversation. That was kind of convenient.

"Reboot fucked it up."

"Of course they did," Tattletale sighed. "I'm on my way. One street over, Cherrywood. Go through the backyard so she doesn't see you. Eight minutes."

Taylor didn't bother to ask how Tattletale knew where she lived. She'd expected it after the detailed information the Thinker provided on Emma and Sophia.

Her backpack was already stocked. She may not be as useful as someone with actual powers they could control, but she could do her part, for whatever it was worth.

Taylor crept downstairs and waited by the back door. She didn't want to risk leaving the house too early and getting discovered.

Sophia dragged Nobody's body into the shadows behind a bush, and waited.

It turns out, five minutes could feel like a very, very long time.

A nice BMW that looked extremely out of place in Taylor's neighborhood pulled up two doors down. Sophia stood from her hiding place and gestured to the driver.

Taylor carefully opened the back door and skulked across the yard. She jogged the last couple steps and hopped the fence as quietly as she could, keeping a mental eye on Sophia to make sure she was distracted.

Of course she called fucking Emma. God dammit.

The familiar red hair and pale skin were barely visible in the moonlight from Nobody's point of view, but Taylor would know her anywhere.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Emma whispered.

"I'll explain on the way. Fuck. Just give me-" Sophia reached for the bundle in Emma's hands. Trash bags?

Taylor made her way up the side yard of the house behind hers.

"Oh God… that's… Sophia, is that Taylor?" Emma gasped, horror lacing her usually acidic tone.

Oh, this was going to blow up in her face royally, somehow. Jesus Christ.

"I didn't… she pulled the fucking trigger, crazy bitch. I wasn't…" Sophia couldn't seem to find the right words, for once.

Nobody's view shifted, and suddenly they were staring up into Emma's face from less than a foot away.

She was so fucking pretty. Even horrified, broken, shattered. A deep kind of existential crack that surpassed the need for tears.

Wait, what?

Why the fuck did Emma care, anyway?

Taylor could remember the feeling of Emma's fingers running over Nobody's face, even as the warmth fled from their dead flesh.

Her blood burned hot under her skin.

It wasn't fucking fair. Wasn't fair that Emma finally decided to give a shit when she thought she was dead. Wasn't fair that Nobody got to touch Emma again, after so fucking long, instead of her.

She hated them all so fucking much. Nobody. Emma. Sophia. The whole goddamn mess.

Taylor jogged forward and opened the passenger door of the waiting sedan. It was almost aggressively nondescript, a dull gray four-door that was just nice enough to demonstrate respectability without being overly flashy or eye-catching.

"Sup, fellow psychic?" Tattletale greeted as Taylor threw herself into the shotgun seat. Her impromptu chauffeur was wearing a plain black sweater and slacks, so maybe it was 'Lisa' right now. Taylor still wasn't sure how the game worked.

She was about to answer when Emma leaned down and gently kissed Nobody's cracked, bloody, dead lips.

Taylor's brain immediately blue-screened and proceeded with an unscheduled and unsolicited full system restore.

What. The. Fuck.

For once, she and Sophia were in agreement about something. That was almost as weird as the everything else about this fucking nightmare.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Taylor heard Sophia hiss through Nobody's ears, reaching down to grab Emma's shoulder. "You'll get your fucking DNA on her or some shit. Come on, we need to bag the body."

At least she could feel Nobody's stunned confusion as well. Whatever they'd been expecting, this… wasn't it.

"So… Reboot's up to some interesting stuff?" Tattletale shot her a knowing smirk.

Taylor groaned. She shoved the roiling mass of Emma bullshit as deep as it would go. She still had a mess to clean up.

"Stalker showed up at my house, and Reboot, for some God forsaken reason, decided to fight her. Well, Sophia went and killed them, and now they're hanging around as a corpse to… I don't even fucking know. We need to follow them," Taylor summarized.

Emma didn't say anything else, or kiss Nobody again. She and Sophia went through the motions robotically. Wipe away any evidence. Wrap the body in multiple trash bags. Seal the edges with duct tape.

It didn't really surprise Taylor that this obviously wasn't their first rodeo.

Apparently, messes really were their specialty.

"Are you gonna fess up, or are we going to keep playing pretend to enable your deep-seated trust issues?" Lisa asked conversationally.

Taylor clenched her fists and stared out the window in silence. They circled the block slowly, staying well away from Taylor's house while still within Nobody's range.

"You know, it's not very sportswoman-like to defraud your brand new team. We've gotta stick together, comradery and all that," Lisa continued when she didn't answer.

"What?"

Taylor's focus was still following Emma and Sophia as they loaded the corpse, her corpse, into the trunk of Alan's car.

"You're getting paid double," Lisa turned at a stop sign and started following the BMW at a safe distance. "If we aren't careful, Rachel's going to start demanding we pay her dogs."

"I wish Nobody was that well trained," Taylor muttered.

Lisa coughed.

"Oh my God, you really can't control them at all?" She cackled.

"Fuck off."

"No, no, this is brill. I love it. That's such a… oh, fuck, I can't."

Taylor wished Nobody could hear what Emma and Sophia were saying in the car a block ahead of them. At least it would be a decent distraction.

"I know," Taylor sighed eventually. It was kind of nice to finally tell someone about this shit. "It sucks. Some people get to fly, or shoot lasers, or read minds, and what do I get? A violent, hyperactive nuisance that I can't get rid of and can't control. It's bullshit."

Lisa nodded solemnly.

They took an unnecessary turn to ensure Emma didn't notice she was being followed.

"It might not be what you want to hear, but your power is badass as hell," Lisa said eventually. "There's a reason I wanted you on the team so badly. Even if their attitude is… questionable… you and Reboot are a powerhouse. And not just that, but you're versatile. Most powers are fairly one-dimensional, but yours? They're, what? A high-tier Stranger, Brute, Mover, Breaker, Thinker? All at the same time?"

Taylor still felt deflated.

"They aren't me, though. Nobody is their own person, even if I wish they weren't, sometimes," Taylor said.

"They're still part of you. Package deal, right? Can't have one without the other."

Taylor didn't answer. It didn't really make her feel any better.

There weren't very many working streetlights in Brockton.

Emma and Sophia's car stopped. Nobody's eyes were a bit useless inside the trash bags, but they could still hear. Sort of. Taylor didn't know how dead ears could hear, but they'd figure that out later.

"...ABB. She goes running in the mornings, they'll just think…" Sophia said lowly.

Had Sophia already been watching her, and they just hadn't noticed until now? Creepy.

Lisa took another turn and circled the next block over from their target. No reason to spook them after going to so much trouble to keep the ruse intact.

The trash bags were finally removed, revealing a dead-end alleyway. A rusted green dumpster blocked Nobody's view of the road.

"Go back to the car," Sophia ordered. "I'll take care of it."

"No," Emma's voice was hoarse, but determined. "I'll do it. She's… it should be me. Needs to be me. Finish the circle. She's mine."

Okay. Seriously. What the fuck, Emma?

"Whatever," Sophia shrugged. "Just don't leave any evidence. You know the drill."

"Yeah, yeah."

Taylor couldn't think about anything else. She just watched Nobody's memories as they formed like a horror movie she couldn't turn off.

Horror, or something else. She couldn't decide. Didn't want to think about it.

Emma crouched over them, a pocket knife in her hand.

"I'd say sorry, but…" she whispered, so low that even Sophia probably couldn't hear. "I'm not. Not really. I just wish… I wish you'd been stronger. Survived. Fought back sooner, or harder. I don't know."

Taylor couldn't breathe.

Emma stared at her for a long moment, her perfect face eerily blank. She leaned down until only her hair was visible in Nobody's dead eyes, her lips next to their ear. Her breath caressed the cold, bloodstained skin.

"Love you, Tay. Now, and forever."

Then Emma cut out Nobody's eyes, and Taylor faded into blind darkness along with them.

What?

How?

Why?

Why?

Why is it so cold?

"You good over there, Specter?"

Oh, right. Lisa's here. I'm sitting in her car.

The dashboard was gray. It was dark. Brockton Bay didn't have enough working streetlights.

How long had she been sitting here? They were just waiting for…

Nope. Thinking was absolutely not an option right now. Just… sit. Exist.

Bare minimum.

Yes. That would work.

Was she breathing?

Yes. Excellent.

Harder than she should be, though. That was mildly concerning.

Heartbeat? Check. Pounding in her ears like a bass drum? Check. Wonderful.

"Shit, are you going into shock or something? What the hell happened?" Lisa's voice sounded very far away.

Nobody appeared in the back seat of the car wearing their Reboot face, sans mask and costume. Lisa jumped in surprise.

Taylor didn't. That would require… something, and she was empty, at the moment. Better to be nothing, than to think…

"She's just processing some stuff," Nobody said casually. "Thanks for the assist. I was originally just planning to fuck with Sophia's head a bit, but man this is so much better. I love it when good improv hits right."

Oh. Right. She was angry at Nobody. That was an acceptable emotion. Easy. Anything that wasn't the cracked, twisted, churning charybdis of broken glass and green, green-

Taylor whipped around as far as she could in her seat. The seatbelt locked from the force of the movement and she felt it bite into her collarbone. She didn't care.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, YOU-" Taylor screamed incoherently for a moment. There weren't words to properly describe the searing hate and fury and everything that burned her from the inside out. "How dare you take my fucking face and ruin my fucking life! It's MY life, you… you… you…"

"Look, I know you're upset, but-" Nobody raised their hands placatingly, as if that made anything better.

"Upset? UPSET?" Taylor roared. Lisa flinched. "I was asleep, and you decided to pretend to be me! All so you could, what? Make Sophia think she killed me? WHAT THE FUCK, NOBODY?"

"I don't see what the big-"

"YOU AREN'T ME!" Taylor lost control again, straining against the seatbelt to glare daggers into Nobody's eyes. They looked genuinely concerned, for once.

Good.

"You don't get to put words in my mouth. You don't get to walk around with my face. And you really, definitely, don't get to kill me and kiss Emma!" Taylor's voice cracked and she threw herself back to facing forward, traitorous tears swimming in her eyes.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I just thought-" Nobody tried again.

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up."

For once, they actually did.

Taylor saw Lisa glance between them out of the corner of her eye. Luckily, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

They drove down the dark, pockmarked streets in silence.

The iron knot of anxiety and apprehension and who knows what else didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, so Taylor closed her eyes and tried not to think about anything.

She couldn't quite turn her traitorous brain off, though, no matter how hard she tried.

Emma loves me.

Not Nobody. Not Sophia. Her.

Even if she could only admit it to her corpse.

Taylor hated her so fucking much. Emma had spent the last year and a half ripping their former connection to shreds, using the jagged scraps to cut Taylor to pieces in every way she could. She'd taken the best part of Taylor's life and turned it into a bitter sawblade that never, ever healed.

And Taylor still loved her.

Some things didn't change, no matter how hard she wished they would.

Now, and forever.

…

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

The front doors of Winslow were as intimidating as ever, although for different reasons, now. The faded brick siding and cracked sidewalk welcomed her like a monster just waiting for her to walk into its open jaws.

Her father noticed her hesitation, looking out the passenger window of his old truck.

"If you aren't ready, that's okay," he said carefully. "We can see how you feel after the weekend.

Taylor pressed her lips into a thin line.

It was tempting, especially after the hell of a morning she'd had, but…

Nobody may have royally fucked everything up, but this was the best way to salvage the situation. It might even get them what they wanted. Not that Taylor would ever admit that.

When all else fails, take refuge in audacity. Strike while the iron is hot, and all that.

Sophia and Emma thought she was dead. They would both be going to school today, to prove that it was just a normal day and they had nothing to do with the desecrated body in that alleyway.

All she had to do was walk in like nothing happened, and they'd lose their fucking minds.

Of course, they'd also know that something was going on with her, but that ship had sailed as soon as Nobody pulled the trigger.

Still, they wouldn't know what. Between that and Nobody's ability to keep an eye out, she should be safe. Sophia couldn't exactly tell the PRT that she'd killed a random high schooler who suddenly wasn't dead anymore.

There was no body in the alley. No blood on the grass. Nothing remained behind, when Nobody popped and reformed. Not even cigarette smoke.

If Sophia decided to make up a story and report her, Taylor would burn that bridge when she got to it. She was reasonably sure Sophia wouldn't do that, though. Taylor understood Sophia better than she'd ever wanted to, and she knew she was too proud to let others fight her battles.

"No, I'm fine," Taylor said. She didn't elaborate.

She could fight her own battles, too.

"Are you sure?"

No.

"Yes, I'm sure. Thanks, though," she said.

She got out of the car.

"Have a good day!" Her father called after her.

She couldn't quite answer around the lump of tangled up snakes in her throat, so she just walked towards the front entrance with a long, purposeful stride.

Memories of the warm sun rising over the low clouds filtered in through her connection to Nobody. They took a long drag from their cigarette as they watched the horizon from the roof of an apartment building a block away.

For once, Taylor actually wanted to know what they were thinking. Did they care, about hurting her? Did they realize how fucked up it was? Did they understand?

Kind of.

She felt them bounce between the same repeated rationalizations and the accompanying emotions. That they were just trying to help. That the haphazard plan had worked, in a way. They had dirt on Emma and Sophia, in different capacities, and her tormentors would be too off balance to return to their regular song and dance any time soon.

The downside to the whole debacle was the obvious risk to their anonymity, but that was a risk Nobody was willing to take. They just had trouble making themselves realize that Taylor wasn't okay with that, and that it was her life to mess up, not theirs. Should have been her choice, not theirs.

They had trouble understanding why she felt violated by their impersonation. They could sympathize, objectively, but couldn't really empathize, given that they had no true form, no concrete identity to ground their existence.

So, yeah. Nobody was trying. But that wasn't necessarily enough for her to forgive them. Not yet, at least.

Taylor squared her shoulders and shoved her way through the heavy front doors.

None of the students cared, of course. None of them knew that there was anything unusual about today. Sure, it was Taylor's first day back after her suspension for hitting Sophia, but most of the other kids didn't care about that outside of general gossip.

She was swept up in the milling crowds, just another face in hundreds.

Fake it 'till you make it.

Taylor forced herself to walk down the hallway with her head held high.

Maybe Lisa was right. Her power was pretty impressive, whether or not Nobody came as a package deal.

Better to roll with the punches, anyway. She couldn't go back and force Nobody to do anything different, even if she wanted to.

Besides, she'd gotten away from Lung, Oni Lee, and Armsmaster unscathed. She'd broken Sophia's nose and joined a parahuman villain gang of her own accord.

As far as Emma and Sophia were concerned, she'd held her own against Shadow Stalker and spat in her face before taking an arrow to the brain.

So, despite the anxiety and a million other things, she made her way towards her first class like she didn't have a care in the world. One hand gripped the strap of her backpack, the other swung freely at her side.

A familiar group of jabbering voices rose over the low background hum ahead. Emma's circle of sycophants, holding court before class. Taylor glanced over at them as she passed.

Okay.

She was still pissed at Nobody.

But.

The look on Emma's face was amazing.

She could ride this high for months.

Sophia was equally flabbergasted, staring with a furious mix of incredulity and horror. Taylor didn't really care about her, though, in the grand scheme of things. Hopefully this would be enough to get her to back off.

But, Emma…

Shock was close, but that didn't do it justice. Taylor was, unfortunately, the world's leading authority when it came to reading every little micro-expression and nuance that existed in Emma Barnes' repertoire. She knew Emma's face better than she knew her own. She'd certainly spent longer staring at it.

The cocktail of flickering emotions present there was intense, and intoxicating.

Surprise, and disbelief, of course. Terror, at the idea that they'd been found out. Confusion. Even guilt, hidden under the various layers.

But, warring with the disbelief for dominance was a strange, wild sort of elation. Too twisted and broken to be joy, but similar. It looked a lot like how Taylor felt this morning, when Emma kissed Nobody's dead lips. When she said she still loved her, despite everything she'd done to her. Loved her even while she broke her, somehow. Impossible, but undeniable.

All Taylor had to do was keep walking. Pretend she didn't know anything. Keep them guessing, keep them scared. Make them back off while they tried to figure out what she knew, if she knew.

That had been the plan until the cracked exultation in Emma's expression sparked something in her chest, and she couldn't bring herself to stick to it.

Messes were their specialty, after all.

Taylor's smile was as conflicted as Emma's own, broken and happy and tortured all at once.

And then, in a brilliant moment of manic insanity, she blew Emma a kiss.

Not a full, dramatic hand motion or anything like that. Not so anyone else would see, except maybe Sophia. Just light, and quick. Like the totally-didn't-count cop-out kiss on Emma's cheek, so long ago.

A subtle, yet obvious way to say…

I know.

I remember.

I heard you.

I felt you.

And you can't take it back.

Emma's mouth actually fell open slightly, and Taylor's stomach flipped. Part of her knew that she shouldn't have done that. It was ridiculous, and over-dramatic, and risky, and…

She didn't care.

Taylor passed by Emma and her council of cronies, and kept walking.

Nobody was absolutely radiating smug satisfaction from their rooftop. They at least had the decency to keep quiet about it for once.

Taylor couldn't possibly parse the feeling in the pit of her stomach, radiating out to her chest and dancing up her neck and down her arms.

But maybe…

It felt like butterflies.

Like moths.

A yearning to fly towards the light again. To feel a fire that should have been extinguished a long time ago. A flame that would almost certainly burn her, if she let herself get close again.

Taylor couldn't quite bring herself to care.

She felt alive, and that was worth all the uncertainty in the world. The cruel sawblades had torn at her for so long, she deserved whatever meager scraps of satisfaction she could find amid the broken shards.

Whatever this was, whatever happened now… it would be worth it.

Something was better than nothing.

Even if that something still hurt.

Even if that something was cracked, jagged emerald glass.

…

Monday, July 27th, 2009.

Emma slept over at her house, this time, since Taylor was the one leaving in the morning.

Dad made them spaghetti for dinner. He was doing better, sort of. Taylor could still see the moments when he stopped pretending, let down the mask. He didn't want her to see the emptiness underneath.

It was hard, but he was trying. She was, too. It wasn't quite as hard to think about her, anymore.

There were still times when the emptiness started to creep in at the edges, though. When the nights were a bit too dark. When she was alone. Alone, alone-

She'd been okay downstairs, after dinner. Watching TV with Dad and Emma.

She'd been okay when they retreated to her bedroom, enjoying their last evening together before Taylor left for a month. Talking to Emma was easy. Natural. She could be herself, without having to worry. Emma was safe.

She'd been okay when they went to bed, layers of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals forming Emma's absolutely necessary nest.

She'd been okay when they finally decided to actually go to sleep, a fair while after that.

But now…

The frost was starting to creep in. The loneliness. The emptiness.

She was going away for a whole month. No Dad, no Emma. What if no one liked her? What if she messed up and ended up stuck on the outside looking in?

How many nights would be too dark?

She missed feeling whole. Missed not missing her mom. Missed not even thinking about losing anything and everything good she had.

She couldn't help but think about it now.

Taylor tried her best to push back against the cold, but it kept seeping in. Even the passive warmth radiating from the soft bundle in the bed next to her wasn't enough.

That was the other thing that her brain wouldn't shut up about.

She wasn't sure how to feel about… all of this. Kissing Emma. It was wonderful, and new, and exciting, but it also left her feeling… unsure. Hesitant.

Taylor sighed, and glanced around the dim room. The only light came from the clock on the bedside table, a low red glow in the gloom.

4:09 AM

The cold was getting worse, and she couldn't help herself. Even if it meant waking Emma up. She'd forgive her.

Taylor rolled over and squirmed through the layers of blankets to wrap her arms around Emma's middle from behind.

Emma hummed contentedly and wiggled backwards a bit, burrowing into her. That helped to calm the butterflies.

"You okay, Tay?" Emma asked sleepily, craning her neck back.

Her hair smelled nice. Cherries, and almonds. Emma always used the same shampoo. She even had an extra bottle here, for sleepovers.

"Yeah, just cold," Taylor murmured. It was late. She really needed to sleep. She didn't want to get to camp dead tired.

Emma pulled herself up on her elbows and then dropped back onto the bed with a bounce, now facing Taylor from just inches away.

Taylor froze. Her face was so perfect, and so close. Light freckles and pale skin. Red hair fanned across the pillow, dyed black by the darkness.

She didn't know what to do with her hands. What did hands normally do?

"This warm enough?" Emma smiled.

Anytime you want, Tay.

Taylor couldn't resist, even though the swirling moths threatened to burst out of her mouth and ruin everything. She swallowed nervously, and closed the short distance between them. She was getting better at remembering to close her eyes.

Emma's lips were just as soft as before.

Emma sighed into the kiss, her breath washing over Taylor's flushed cheeks. The remnants of Emma's mint toothpaste brushed over her tongue.

Definitely warm enough.

All good things must, unfortunately, come to an end. Such was true in life, and kissing Emma. She'd have to figure out a way to spend more of her time kissing, at some point.

Emma shifted to rest her cheek against Taylor's collarbone. Her skin burned, but it didn't hurt. Emma never hurt.

"You sure you can't stay?" Emma mumbled, half asleep again already.

They'd already talked about this. She'd even asked her dad, but the deposits were already paid and it would be a waste to back out at the last minute.

"I'll miss you like crazy, promise," Taylor grinned into her hair. The cold was almost completely gone. "Nothing's gonna change."

Emma sighed into her, and Taylor carefully draped an arm over her back.

"Love you, Tay," Emma's voice was muffled by the blankets and her overheated skin, but Taylor knew.

"Love you, too, Emmi."

…

Notes:

Well... That was fun. Quick turn around this time, since I was excited to get into this chapter after the cliffhanger. At some point actual, living Taylor will get to say more than a few words to current Emma, I promise. Lisa had a heck of an evening. Morning? Whatever. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody spends their sleepless nights sneaking into random houses, but only to pet all the cats.

Chapter 6: Interlude 1

Notes:

TW: Emma Barnes.

Interlude 1

Monday, April 11th, 2011.

Emma kept her usual facade in place while she watched the show. She had lots of practice.

Taylor barely even seemed to be listening anymore. The barbed words Julia threw at her just rolled off without impact. They'd have to up their game.

She was so close. Emma could see Taylor growing colder every day, hardening piece by piece in the aftermath of the locker. Emma doubted they could get away with anything that blatant again anytime soon, but she was more than capable of being subtle.

Taylor may not care what Julia had to say, but her angry eyes never left Emma's. Like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Emma reveled in her frigid gaze.

It had always been that way. None of the others could hurt Taylor quite like she could. She and Taylor were connected by poisoned hooks and gentle kisses in the afternoon sun, orbiting each other like burning stars in the empty night. For better or worse, they were shackled to one another by chains of loathing and love and broken promises.

Emma allowed herself a few moments to just watch.

Taylor's face was carefully blank, her expression a well crafted facade of her own. She liked to pretend she didn't care, but Emma knew better. Her wide mouth was pressed into a hard line, and barely restrained fire danced behind her eyes. It didn't matter whether she was crying or sullen or furious, Taylor was always entrancing.

Emma saw Taylor's jaw shift under her skin, the anger beneath starting to leak through. It had been so long since Emma had been able to touch her. She desperately wanted to, but she was still too sharp. They didn't quite fit, yet.

But it was close. She could feel it.

Emma couldn't hold herself back anymore. She needed that deep, frozen heat again.

"What's the matter, Taylor? You look upset."

Their eyes locked, Taylor's cold fury flowing through her and seeping into the empty cracks. Taylor was just so real. Everything else was paper-thin, by comparison.

Emma found a knife she hadn't used yet, a gap in the armor she'd slowly but surely forged around Taylor's heart. Part of her that was still soft. Still didn't fit right.

Fire and regret and longing stirred deep in Taylor's stare, and it was like a shot of pure electricity searing Emma's veins.

She couldn't help but smile.

"So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?"

She saw the moment that the knife slid in, and it was beautiful.

Taylor was beautiful.

Her brown eyes sharpened. Daggers of ice pinned Emma in place, the hate and agony pressing down on her with wonderful weight, seeping into the fissures and welding them together.

"I'm done crying over you, Emmi. You aren't worth it," Taylor's voice was frozen venom, aimed to return some semblance of the pain Emma had caused her.

Her broken pieces rattled, and Emma broke a little bit more even while she celebrated internally.

Yes, stab me, hurt me. Fucking stand up, Tay. I need you, you're so close, push and break and-

Taylor turned away, and the connection snapped like a rubber band, lashing back to carve crimson paths into her skin. Emma kept her facade in place, even while she reveled in the sensation.

Sophia stepped on Taylor's backpack strap. Sophia liked messing with her in little, physical ways, after Emma knocked her down. Adding insult to injury. Or injury to insult, in many cases.

Taylor let go of the backpack, and stood.

In that moment, something about Taylor felt different than ever before. Emma knew her better than anyone, loved her like nobody else could, and she'd never seen Taylor straighten her spine like that. Never seen her eyes darken like that. Something violent stirred in Taylor's depths, and Emma's chest tightened. She could practically hear the stark, hard click of a round being chambered in cold steel right before a deafening gunshot.

She was like iron, a bladed spike that punched into Emma's gut and drove the breath from her lungs.

Then, with one savage, brutal movement, Taylor broke Sophia's face.

And Emma burned.

…

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Emma demanded. Her eyes ran automatically over Sophia's body, looking for obvious injuries.

Sometimes, when Sophia called her like this, she forgot to mention the cuts. Emma had learned to bring her first aid kit and sutures along, just in case.

Sophia looked fine, this time, though. Just an unmoving body on the grass behind her.

"I'll explain on the way. Fuck. Just give me-"

Emma frowned. Sophia was rushing, shaken. Hiding something from her.

Emma handed over the trash bags, alcohol wipes, latex gloves, and duct tape, and left Sophia's side to look at the corpse.

So that's why the address was familiar.

Midnight curls, matted with blood and spilling from under a dark hood. Pale skin, wide mouth, blood dripping from her…

No.

This wasn't real. She was dreaming. She was still back in bed, dreaming about getting a call from Sophia. Dreaming that Sophia had murdered-

The barely cobbled together pieces of herself shattered again, so much more painful than she could have imagined.

She drowned in the boiling sea of agony.

Not real. Not real not real not real realrealreal…

Except it was.

She was.

Taylor was.

Ice water flooded her veins.

"Oh God…" her voice sounded so very, very far away. Was that even her, speaking? "That's… Sophia, is that Taylor?

She already knew the answer. Nobody knew Taylor like her. No one loved her like she did.

I killed her.

Shattered, like glass. Irreparable.

So, so beautiful, even cold and unnaturally still.

She'd never see Taylor cry again.

Never touch her. Hurt her. Kiss her.

Never never never never-

"I didn't…" Sophia swallowed before continuing. "She pulled the fucking trigger, crazy bitch. I wasn't…"

Emma's legs stopped working, but that was okay. It got her closer to Taylor, anyway, when she crumpled.

She gathered her best friend into her arms, holding her limp neck up so she could see her face.

The crossbow bolt still poked out from under her chin, her neck a mess of red-black blood and…

Emma didn't look at that.

Taylor's eyes were blank, hollow. It was almost worse than the blood.

Gone, gone, gone…

Perfect, and beautiful, and gone.

Emma raised a shaking hand and let her fingertips glide over Taylor's face. She was still warm. Emma could almost imagine she was just… just…

Just what? Her eyes just stared. There was no spark, no love, no hate, no fury, no despair, no anything.

It wasn't fair. Taylor had been so close… so close to fitting into her broken pieces again. The earth itself pulled out from under her feet, right when she thought she might be able to stand again.

What was the point?

The glass tore her to pieces, and Emma felt like she was dying right there on the blood-soaked grass. Without Taylor…

What did it even matter?

She wanted… wanted… needed…

Emma leaned in and kissed her. She didn't care what Sophia thought. Didn't care what anyone thought. The only one who mattered was gone.

Taylor's lips were just as soft as she remembered, even split and bloody.

Anytime you want, Tay.

One last time. Her lips were still warm. They tasted like salt.

Emma felt like she should be crying, but nothing came out. Too broken to even cry right. A solitary, shattered star orbiting in the empty void with no counterpart, no partner, no other half.

Sophia's hand clamped down on her shoulder, startling her out of her spiral.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You'll get your fucking DNA on her or some shit. Come on, we need to bag the body," Sophia said.

Right. Taylor was dead. She'd driven over here for a reason.

Just another body to dispose of, cover up.

Except, it wasn't.

This wasn't an Empire thug, or an ABB enforcer. It was just… just…

Just Taylor.

Emma was empty. It was better that way.

The latex gloves were tight on her hands. Taylor's skin felt strange under her fingers, through them.

She helped Sophia wipe Taylor down, to remove any trace of their DNA or fingerprints. Removed the ghost of her last kiss from her lips.

They wrapped the body in black trash bags and duct tape, to minimize the risk of spills in her father's car.

The sound of the trunk closing was too loud.

Emma got behind the wheel again, her numb fingers fumbling for the keys.

They drove in silence for a minute.

Emma had to know. Needed to understand.

Why is it over? Why is she gone?

"What happened?" Emma asked again.

"Fuck," Sophia groaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. "I just came to fuck with her before school, not… not as Stalker. Wanted her to come back to school fucked up, show what happens to people who sucker punch me like that. But…"

Sophia punched her own leg a few times, the dull thuds reverberating in the quiet car.

"She was on the roof, smoking a fucking cigarette, and she just… jumped over, bold as shit, and called me out. By name. While I was still wearing my mask. Said some shit about me using my powers to fuck with her, and threatened to tell the PRT. She knew, Emma. Knew I was a Ward," Sophia continued. "We knocked each other around a bit, she headbutted me again, fucking bitch, then she… fuck, she fell off the roof."

"What?" Emma glanced over at her, but quickly refocused on the road. The last thing she wanted was to hit a curb with a dead body in the trunk. Emma knew and tried to follow the golden rule: only break one law at a time. Don't speed while you're hiding a body. Don't run stop signs if you're running drugs. Etc, etc.

For a moment, she forgot who they were hiding. Then she remembered, and died all over again. Fuck.

"She got right up and called me out again. Basically said I was doing a piss poor job of killing her. I… fuck, Emma, I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do? I had the bow under her chin, and she just kept… I told her she was crazy, and she said we made her like that. Then she spat in my face and pulled the trigger. She fucking shot herself, Emma, I swear, I didn't…"

Fuck.

Taylor wasn't strong enough, after all. Emma had been so, so sure she was. But no, she broke, and didn't survive.

I killed her.

She deserved to die. She wasn't strong.

It didn't make it hurt any less. How the fuck was that fair?

Sophia was looking at her, though, so Emma just nodded.

They stopped in front of an alleyway. Not the same one, but it would do the job. The ABB weren't exactly picky.

"Did Empire last time, so make it look like the ABB," Sophia rambled while they unloaded the body, as if Emma didn't know how to frame a crime scene. Sophia didn't usually talk this much, but she also didn't usually kill random teenagers. Didn't usually kill Emma's best friend. Didn't usually-

"She goes running in the mornings, they'll just think she was in the wrong place at the wrong time," Sophia said.

Just like me.

Emma tried not to look, as they unwrapped her face.

She looked anyway.

Beautiful black curls, slick with blood and-

Emma stopped looking.

"Go back to the car. I'll take care of it."

No.

"No, I'll do it. She's… it should be me. Needs to be me. Finish the circle. She's mine," Emma said. She sounded empty, even to herself. Broken broken broke-

"Whatever. Just don't leave any evidence. You know the drill."

Sophia walked back to the car.

Emma knelt down next to the body.

Finish the circle.

It wasn't the same alleyway, but it was close enough. Taylor's Emma had died there, on the ground with a knife in her face.

And now, Emma would never get her Taylor. Never get her to fit together with her broken, jagged edges. Never put the puzzle together again. Never be whole again.

"I'd say sorry, but I'm not. Not really. I just wish… I wish you'd been stronger. Survived. Fought back sooner, or harder. I don't know," Emma said, to the corpse. She didn't even know why. What did it matter?

Nothing mattered.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Why did it still hurt so fucking much, then?

Emma whispered in her ear, one last time.

"Love you, Tay. Now, and forever."

Always had. Always would. Nobody else would ever compare.

She was so beautiful…

Eye, nose, mouth, ears…

The broken wheel kept turning.

Pick…

Taylor's dead eyes just stared.

So Emma cut them out.

You'll do anything? Like what?

She removed the crossbow bolt, then cut Taylor's throat to obscure the original entry point. Stabbed the knife up through the leaking wound a few times, just in case.

Emma stood up, and carefully pulled off her gloves. Inside out, so none of the blood spilled.

Then she walked back to the car, and she and Sophia drove away in silence.

…

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

Pretending came naturally to Emma, by now. She had more than enough practice.

The other high schoolers were so easy to please. Their social games were simple, uncomplicated. They were all so shallow, so soft, compared to real power.

Power like Sophia's, and, in a borrowed, adjacent kind of way, her own.

She was strong. A survivor. She'd broken, but she wasn't dead.

Not like Taylor.

Fuck.

She was empty, though, today.

Her light was gone. There wasn't a point, anymore. What did any of it matter, if she couldn't have her?

But what else was she supposed to do?

She didn't pay attention to the words. She said what she needed to. Listened when it was appropriate. Said the right words, supported or knocked down in equal measure. Easy-peasy.

Easy, until she saw a ghost out of the corner of her eye.

She felt Sophia stiffen next to her, but she couldn't look.

Couldn't see anything, except her.

Taylor's stare lanced straight through her like lightning. Beautiful, brown eyes boring into her own from across the hallway. Sparkling with hate and satisfaction, black curls framing her face, gorgeous and crystalized and sharp and…

Alive.

Taylor's alive.

Emma didn't know how. She didn't know why.

She didn't care.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing else even came close.

Adrenaline spiked through her bones as her brain caught up with her stupefied rapture.

Did Taylor know?

Maybe it wasn't Taylor they killed last night. Maybe it was someone else with her face, somehow. A copy, or a clone, or-

Taylor's smile widened, and Emma couldn't breathe. She knew every one of Taylor's expressions, and she'd never, ever smiled like that before.

It was cruel, and entrancing. Sharp. Dangerous. It was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen.

Taylor knew. Emma didn't know how, but she did. She must. There was no other explanation.

Then her lips moved, lips Emma had kissed just hours ago, mimicking the very same motion.

Emma's pulse pounded in her ears. She knew her expression was unguarded, the facade shattered, but she couldn't do anything about that right now. She was stunned, helpless, overwhelmed by the unexpected and all-consuming rapture thrumming through her.

Taylor still loves me.

This broken, cracked version of her best friend was perfect.

Finally.

All she'd had to do was kill her, apparently. Maybe she should have tried that years ago.

Taylor walked away, and Emma stared after the waterfall of midnight hair and slim, iron frame until she was gone.

This Taylor, Emma's Taylor…

She'd fit perfectly. A cracked, fragmented puzzle made from their shattered crystal sculptures.

She just had to figure out how to put their pieces back together again.

…

Friday, April 15th, 2011.

Emma opened the roof access door and squinted into the suddenly bright sunlight.

The school roof was Sophia's favorite place to talk about cape stuff during the day, even if they hadn't come up here in months. Too cold, during the winter. They'd stolen and copied the keys ages ago. It's not like the janitorial staff actually cared.

The sun felt nice against her face.

Everything felt nice, actually. She felt… keyed up. Almost tingly.

Alive.

It was a hell of a rush.

She could still see Taylor's lips move, the first anything even close to a kiss she'd gotten from her in years. Dead lips didn't count. She could still see Taylor's smile, so proud of hurting Emma so deeply, even if it was with her death.

It haunted her.

Emma caught a glimpse of movement across the open, flat expanse of the old rooftop. She turned, but there was nobody there.

Weird.

"Okay," Sophia said, pacing between two air conditioning units. "Okay. So. Hebert isn't fucking dead, apparently. Three options, that I can see, at least."

"Okay," Emma repeated, crossing her arms and leaning against the crumbling brick siding.

"One, whoever killed herself last night wasn't Hebert. Two, Hebert's a cape, a regenerator or something. Three, whoever's downstairs in the cafeteria isn't Hebert."

Well, the last one was impossible. Emma would know.

"It's her," Emma said confidently.

Sophia shot her a look.

"Strangers are-"

"Trust me, Sophia," Emma cut her off. "I'd know. It wouldn't feel like her if it wasn't her."

"Well, it must have felt a lot like her last night, since you decided to start making out with her fucking corpse," Sophia shot back.

"It looked like her, last night," Emma corrected. She wasn't capable of regretting kissing Taylor. "But she was fucking dead, Soph. I'd be able to tell if she hadn't had a bolt in her head."

"Whatever. Okay, so we assume that's Hebert, for now. That leaves the first two options," Sophia continued her pacing.

"She knows," Emma said. "You saw how she looked at us, this morning." At me. Me. Mine. "She definitely knows something. But I think she knows everything, somehow."

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sophia growled.

Sophia punched the side of the air conditioning unit. The rusted steel sheet rippled with a metallic clang that echoed over the rooftop.

"How the fuck did she find out? About me, I mean. She was on the roof waiting for me. She knew who I was, even with the mask. She knew I was a Ward. She must have already known about my powers before, and that's how she clocked me," Sophia said.

"So she's a cape?" Emma suggested. She always knew Taylor was strong. It wouldn't really surprise her, actually.

Sophia had told her what it took to trigger.

The idea of this Taylor, her Taylor, broken and remade with that kind of power, with her cold eyes and iron spine. The idea that she'd been the one to break her like that…

It was enticing, and exciting.

"That pathetic sack of shit?" Sophia scoffed, before frowning. "Maybe. She was too confident, last night. Too eager to throw down, even knowing about my powers. Makes sense if she knew she wouldn't actually die. Could still be a Stranger, though, pretending to be her. Maybe they're working together, or something."

Emma nodded absently, still seeing Taylor's smug smile and piercing eyes behind her own.

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked when the silence stretched. That was important to know, before she made her own plans for her Taylor.

"I don't fucking know!" Sophia clenched her fists. "I could report her, just say I suspect something fishy, but what the fuck do I tell them? Calvert's too fucking smart for his own good. If he starts sniffing around Hebert, we're fucked. We can delete shit, or whatever, but the PRT aren't stupid. And, once they found a lead, it would take Armsmaster two seconds to hack the school servers and trace that shit."

Emma already knew most of that. They'd been careful to avoid drawing attention with their other pranks for a reason. Not to mention the broken nose.

"I could try to kill her again, for good this time-" Sophia started.

"No."

Emma hadn't meant to say that so sharply, but it was involuntary.

Sophia raised her eyebrows.

"No?"

The bladed edges sliced her apart from within, but Emma stood her ground.

"No. Whatever's going on with Taylor, it's… enough. We can't risk throwing away everything just to fuck with her some more," Emma made her reasoning try to sound rational, even though it wasn't. Even from the start. Nothing about this shit was rational. Emma didn't care.

"That's all?" Sophia looked suspicious.

"She's mine," Emma snapped. She couldn't help herself.

To break, to love, and everything else.

"I'll handle her," she continued. "Just keep the PRT off our backs in the meantime."

Sophia narrowed her eyes, but Emma held her stare.

"If you say so, Survivor," Sophia said eventually.

"I do."

"I already agreed, no need to get your shit in a knot," Sophia rolled her eyes. "So fucking dramatic."

Emma grinned and the tension on the roof unwound a bit. They didn't have to do anything, right this second. She could watch Taylor from a distance for a while, and come up with her next move.

It may have taken longer than she expected, but Taylor was finally the right fit for her, again. She could feel it.

…

Saturday, August 29th, 2009.

Emma leaned against the brick column that marked one side of the front gate. The air was uncomfortably hot, almost sticky. She could feel a single bead of sweat running down her spine.

The sun on her neck was just another unwelcome reminder.

She could still feel their hands in her hair. The tearing, cutting-

Eat it, then pick.

She desperately wished she could find a way to make her brain shut up. She'd do anything for a few minutes of quiet. Except, she also hated, hated the silence. She couldn't win.

All she could do was survive. If she stopped moving, she'd crumble.

Taylor turned the corner, jogging down the street towards them. Bright blue T-shirt, tied at the waist, shorts. Tan legs and beautiful braided hair and guileless smile. Happy to see her. Excited.

Whole. Pristine. Unbroken.

Something dark and twisted churned in Emma's stomach at the sight of her.

She loved her so fucking much.

She hated seeing that smile.

"Hey, Emma!" Taylor called, her voice as bright as her grin.

Taylor wouldn't understand. Couldn't understand. The Emma she knew was gone, left dead in the alleyway with the rest of the trash.

"Who's the loser?" Sophia asked, pointedly not looking at Taylor.

It wasn't fair that Taylor got to be whole. That she got to be happy.

They used to fit together like puzzle pieces. Perfectly aligned.

Now, Taylor's soft lips wouldn't line up with her cracked, jagged edges. She was broken, and Taylor… wasn't.

She could be, though.

"She's nobody," Emma let her newly discovered acid leak into her tone. "And, apparently, doesn't know how to use a fucking phone."

Taylor skidded to a halt a few feet away, legs locked like a startled colt.

Her expression was confused. Blinking. Unsure.

"What? I tried to call… Emma, what's going on? Who's she?" Taylor stumbled over her words.

Emma ran her eyes over Taylor's face, down her lanky body. Her stare flicked back up and bore into confused, deep brown eyes.

One last look at the perfect, pristine version of the girl she loved. A delicate, intricate sculpture of shining glass, so very fragile, right before she shattered her forever.

But it was necessary. Taylor would try to help her, if she knew. Try to put the broken pieces back together again.

She didn't understand. She didn't know.

She would, by the time Emma was done with her.

"If you'd called, I would have told you to stay home. Saved you the trip, because I'm nice like that. But no, somebody can't be bothered to get a cell phone like a normal, considerate person. Honestly, it's pathetic, Tay," Emma twisted her affection into a knife. She watched the moment it cut through Taylor's confusion and sliced her heart open.

Taylor's face crumpled.

Satisfaction bloomed in Emma's chest, burning hot, as wonderful as it was painful. Anything to drive away the voices, fill the empty void left between the cracks.

If she couldn't be whole, Taylor wasn't allowed to be, either.

"Oh shit, are you really gonna cry?" Sophia scoffed.

Taylor didn't look at Sophia, though. Her eyes stayed fixed on Emma, and she got to watch as the fissures opened in real time.

"What?" Taylor said again, a whisper this time. "Why? But… Emma…"

Emma could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest, adrenaline sparking through her veins. Wonderful, awful, enticing and horrifying. She needed more.

"God, get the fucking hint, Taylor. I don't want you here. I'm done. You can fuck off now. Shoo," she made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

The cracks widened, and hot tears leaked from the corners of Taylor's eyes.

She was so fucking beautiful.

Good. Burn with me. Break with me. Come with me.

"But…" Taylor's voice was very, very small.

Emma stepped closer. The combination of fear and hope and uncertainty on Taylor's tear-stained face was incredible.

It cut her to bloody pieces. It filled the cold, dead spaces between the shards.

Emma leaned in until her lips were just inches from Taylor's ear, flyaway strands of raven hair brushing against her cheek.

"What?" Emma whispered. She could feel the warmth radiating off Taylor's skin. "Did you actually think I liked it?"

Then Emma shoved her away roughly by the shoulders, and Taylor's pure, perfect glass sculpture finally shattered in truth. She stumbled backwards and tripped over her own feet, sprawling on the sidewalk and scraping her hands.

Fuck yes. Bleed, for me. See how it feels to leave behind pieces of yourself on the pavement.

Emma felt alive, for the first time since that cursed alley.

Taylor stared up at her, beautifully broken and falling apart in front of Emma's eyes.

"I… Please…" Taylor just couldn't help herself, apparently. "Don't…"

"Are you fucking deaf?" Sophia jumped in. "She told you to leave. She doesn't need you. Get the fuck out of here while you still can."

Taylor's fractured gaze finally left Emma's face, flicking over to Sophia with a wonderful mix of anger and fear and heartbreak, all rolled up into one on Taylor's perfect face.

Taylor was strong, deep underneath. Emma knew she was. She'd recovered after Annette died, healed and become whole again.

Breaking her permanently would be difficult, but it would be worth it.

So they could both be shattered, together.

The fire in her chest slowly faded as she watched Taylor scramble awkwardly to her feet and run away.

"Feel better?" Sophia asked.

Better? No. But it wasn't about feeling better. It was about feeling anything.

Pristine, unbroken Taylor couldn't love her as she was. Not the right way, at least. They didn't fit, anymore.

Sophia wouldn't really get it, but that was fine. Sophia didn't love anyone like Emma loved Taylor. Like Taylor loved her, even while she cried.

Taylor wouldn't cry if she didn't care.

All of that was tough to explain right this second, though.

"Yeah," Emma said.

One day, Taylor would understand. She probably wouldn't forgive her, but that was fine. When that day came, Emma wouldn't be sorry, anyway.

…

Notes:

You know, sometimes I write something and think... Is that too much? Luckily, I am not prone to self-reflection. Emma is... well, Emma. I'm sure she's totally fine. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is going to... you know what? I'm not even doing one of these this time. I need a drink.

Chapter 7: Surge 2.1

Surge 2.1

Saturday, April 16th, 2011.

The Undersiders' loft was surprisingly nice, for a villain lair. Taylor wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but there weren't any ominous interrogation rooms or weapons caches. The open area was divided by two large couches, one side of the wide space clearly designated for lounging while the other just held a few tables and some exercise matts. She could just make out the entrances to bedrooms and bathrooms down a makeshift hallway.

It was also obviously an unsupervised hangout spot for three… four? Teenagers. She wasn't sure how often Bitch or Brian stayed here. Taylor wasn't a clean freak by any means, but it was still ever so slightly painful to look at. Would it be rude to tidy up at some point?

"I didn't get a chance to see you fight last weekend. Do you have any training or anything?" Brian asked from the open area on the other side of the sofas.

"Taylor's a cruel taskmaster. She gets to sleep while I slave away watching YouTube videos," Nobody grinned, bouncing on the balls of their feet on the exercise mat across from Brian. They were very excited about sparring with someone other than Taylor.

They wore their Reboot face for now, but that would have to change soon. Unfortunately.

Alec was extremely engrossed in whatever game he was playing on the big screen, an expensive looking headset on and everything. Taylor never really bothered with video games. Books were better.

Lisa caught her eye from her perch on the kitchen counter, giving her a look that clearly said "so, you gonna spill?"

Taylor shot her a look that hopefully replied "yes, yes, I know."

As annoying as her psychic routine could be, Lisa's power was convenient for quick, silent conversations.

How did she interject, though? No one actually cleared their throats the way they did on TV. Did everyone have this much trouble talking to people, or did she just draw the short straw?

Probably Emma's fault.

Taylor stuffed that thought back into the pit where it belonged.

"Do you feel comfortable telling me your real name?" Brian asked Nobody while Taylor deliberated. "I don't want to pry, but it's just easier than calling everyone codenames constantly."

Right. They hadn't actually done that. And Nobody had just thrown out Taylor's name without a second thought. Par for the course.

"Oh, yeah, I kinda forgot. I'm Nobody," Nobody said.

Brian raised his eyebrows.

"I doubt that's-"

"No, I mean my name is Nobody."

"Your… really?" Brian said.

"It's what my mother called me," Nobody shrugged with a crooked grin.

Lisa chuckled, and Taylor groaned.

"Brian," Taylor called over.

It was strange, watching him turn to face her from two different angles. She was getting better and better at seeing things from Nobody's perspective in real time.

Literally, not metaphorically. Nobody's outlook on life was still irritating.

They probably needed to talk, but Taylor didn't want to. Part of her was aware that she was being a bit petty, especially after the conversation Nobody overheard between Sophia and Emma on the roof, but she'd earned it, dammit. The whole 'playing dead while wearing her face without permission' thing was way over the line, even compared to the other shit Nobody'd pulled in the last few months.

She adamantly refused to admit that any part of her irritation stemmed from the fact that Nobody got to kiss Emma instead of her. That would be ridiculous.

"There's something we… uh… left out, sort of, on Tuesday. It's…" Taylor wasn't entirely sure how to explain. Lisa had done the heavy lifting on their last reveal, so they got to skip the awkward part. Of course, Lisa also got to watch Taylor have a mental breakdown in the front seat of her car while Nobody's corpse was getting carved up in an alleyway. They were skipping friendship milestones all over the place.

"Oh, right!" Nobody said. "So, funny story, I'm not a real person. I'm an autonomous sentient projection fueled by Taylor's deep-seated need for companionship. Also, I can do this!"

Nobody turned into an exact copy of Brian, then Lisa, then Alec, before finally settling on Taylor, wearing the same dark green sweater and blue jeans she'd picked out this morning.

And just like that, the knot of anger-anxiety-frustration-guilt in her gut was back in full force. Taylor clenched her teeth. God, Nobody was a frustrating little shit.

She might be more willing to sympathize with their situation if they weren't such an ass about it.

Brian spun back to face Nobody, blinking with surprise. His expression was pretty funny, honestly. Not that Taylor would give Nobody any credit for that.

"I… what?" He asked.

"We can give the extra two grand back if you want," Taylor said. "But yeah. Nobody is my power, if we're being technical. We share memories and experiences, but they're functionally their own person. Just stuck within like four hundred yards of me, from what we can tell."

"That's… you know, I don't know what to say," Brian bit his lip. He had nice teeth. "So, you couldn't teleport with the lunch box because…"

"Because it's not part of me," Nobody explained. "I can recreate anything we remember, to a certain extent. Clothes, cigarettes, tasers, phones, whatever. Could probably make infinite cash, now that I think of it. Neat. I dunno what the exact line is, though. I couldn't replicate Armsmaster's halberd even though it was literally inside me for a bit there, but I can do Oni Lee's grenades no problem."

Brian paled slightly at that.

"Right. Let's… not test that inside, please," he said. Lisa snickered. "Anything else you conveniently left out?"

"We spar with each other because wearing identical bodies seems to trigger some kind of positive feedback loop," Taylor chimed in. "We both remember everything the other experiences, with some bleedover in muscle memory. I don't know if we're actually good, but hopefully we're… passable."

Sophia had still done a number on Nobody, though. They needed to get better, if Taylor was ever going to hold her own. She couldn't take a beating like Nobody.

"That's pretty useful. It will make practicing easier, for sure," Brian said thoughtfully.

"Plus, I can just reset good as new. Comes in handy, since Taylor has just a wee bit of unresolved anger floating around."

"Huh, wonder why," Taylor's voice dripped with sarcasm. "It couldn't possibly be because someone keeps putting on my face without asking and-"

"You're still on about that? This is what I mean about holding grudges. Besides, I said I was sorry," Nobody rolled their eyes.

"It was yesterday, and I don't think you actually did," Taylor bit out.

"It was implied. You were probably too busy with all the histrionic screaming to hear me."

Taylor really wanted to punch them again.

Brian's eyes bounced back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match. Taylor could see it out of both sets of eyes. Weird.

Taylor pushed the 'unresolved anger' into the pit with the rest of the bullshit, and flopped down on the couch kitty-corner to Alec.

"Okay… um… well, let's start with some basics, then, and see how you do…" Brian soldiered on through the awkward silence, moving to stand in front of Nobody.

Taylor watched Nobody get put through their paces and tried not to think about anything else.

It didn't work.

She tried closing her eyes instead.

That didn't work either.

Green, green eyes stared back, out of the dark.

She's mine. I'll handle her.

What the fuck, Emma?

Taylor had no idea what to make of… anything, when it came to Emma's bullshit over the last couple days. Emma had gone from her usual routine of making her life hell to… what? Declaring her undying love to her dead body, and then calling off the witch hunt?

Really. What the fuck, Emma?

A voice in her head whispered that if Emma could change so drastically once, maybe it was possible she could change back just as suddenly. Taylor took that part of herself out behind the metaphorical shed and shot it.

Emma had made her position extremely clear. No amount of candid revelations would change that.

Still, Taylor didn't know what to think. It didn't seem possible for Emma to be manipulating her, this time. Not on purpose, anyway. There was no way Emma could have known that Taylor could hear through Nobody's dead ears, feel through their dead lips. There was no way she would have had that conversation on the roof if she'd known that Nobody was eavesdropping.

But what did that mean?

Somehow, even after years of torment, Emma had found a new way to drive her insane. Possibly without even trying. Joy. Well done, Emma.

"Two grand for your thoughts?" Lisa asked.

Taylor cracked one eye to glance at her.

"I thought you were psychic?"

Lisa smirked.

"I thought you were psychic."

"Touché," Taylor grumbled. "It's… nothing. Just school shit."

"School shit involving our favorite crossbow enthusiast and her psycho sidekick?"

Taylor snorted softly at the description, but nodded anyway. Lisa would figure it out even if she didn't answer.

"Nobody spied on them a bit yesterday. They're assuming I'm a cape, but they're not sure what to do next since they don't know what I can do. So they're just… leaving me alone, I guess? I don't buy it," Taylor said. "They've been fucking with me for years, and now they quit as soon as they actually have something on me? I hate feeling like I'm missing something."

Hated that they knew she had powers.

Hated that she didn't know what they wanted from her.

Hated Emma, in general.

She's mine.

Fuck.

The memory of the fervor in Emma's voice should have been terrifying, or just fucking annoying.

The knot in her stomach didn't feel like fear, though. Or at least, not the correct kind.

She should just want Emma to leave her alone.

But deep down, she didn't.

No matter how hard she tried, she never managed to completely get rid of the part of her that just wanted her Emma back.

Lisa's eyebrows crept towards her hairline. Taylor was reasonably sure Lisa wasn't actually psychic, but she was clearly picking up something. Taylor didn't want to give her the satisfaction of asking what her power was, especially not after initially lying about her own.

"Alright, fine, I'll take pity on you. You really could have just asked, though," Lisa said after a moment. "My power tells me stuff, gives me information. Let's me fill in gaps that shouldn't be possible. It's not infallible, but it's right most of the time."

"Blind squirrels and broken clocks, Lisa," Brian grinned over at her good-naturedly from the sparring mat.

Lisa flipped him off, and he laughed.

"So, if you want help navigating… whatever you got going on over there, just let me know," Lisa continued.

Taylor chewed her lip but didn't answer right away. She wanted to trust Lisa… but she didn't want to get burned because of misleading power-sourced information, or manipulated by a villainous Thinker.

Lisa may have been willing to get up in the middle of the night to help her handle the bullshit, but that didn't automatically make her trustworthy.

She was probably more trustworthy than Emma, but whatever.

"I'll think about it," Taylor said.

"Yeah you will," Lisa grinned crookedly.

Taylor narrowed her eyes but didn't comment. It wasn't her fault that Emma lived in her head rent free. If she could figure out how to evict her, she would have done so ages ago.

"Okay, you've got a few bad habits, but more good ones," Brian said, pausing their current exercise and shaking out his long arms. "You're right, though. You're better than you should be for… How long have you…"

He didn't seem to know the right way to ask.

"I'm three and a half months old," Nobody said in a proud toddler voice. They also turned into a toddler.

"Please don't do that," Brian protested so quickly it sounded almost involuntary.

Nobody just laughed and pulled out a cigarette.

Brian looked over at Taylor with obvious distress. Taylor shrugged. He thought she could rein Nobody in? She'd been trying for months, and the best she got was 'probably wouldn't fuck around too much when their lives were in legitimate danger'.

The closest thing she'd found to a deterrent was the threat of going for a swim more than a quarter mile out into the Bay. Nobody hated getting wet. Like a cat, or something. Even with access to all their memories, Taylor couldn't figure out why. Nobody refused to talk about it.

Still, that method was inconvenient, and she couldn't threaten them with it over everything.

"Just be happy it's cigarettes and not grenades," Taylor said dryly.

"That's the spirit, Tay," Nobody gave them a tiny thumbs up. With the hand not holding the now lit cigarette.

"Don't call me that."

"Right. Sorry."

At least they actually apologized that time. Baby steps.

Brian took a deep breath.

Taylor felt a brief sense of kinship with him. It was nice to share the misery around.

"Anyway, I have an idea. For both of you, actually," Brian shook off the momentary discomfort and started rummaging through some old canvas duffle bags. "You need something you can practice together that doesn't involve beating the crap out of each other. For Taylor's sake more than yours."

He reemerged holding two nightsticks, each about two feet long.

"Here, copy those," he said, tossing them to Nobody. Nobody at least had the decency to reform into Taylor's body again to catch them.

They spun them experimentally before shrugging and tossing the batons over to Taylor. The black wooden sticks were straight and surprisingly light, without the perpendicular handle she'd seen on similar weapons before. It reminded her of her extendable baton, just a bit sturdier and longer.

"Kali definitely isn't my strong suit, but I know some of the intro techniques. The good thing for you two, specifically, is that double stick fighting benefits a lot from mirroring your partner when you practice, and it's applicable to a lot of different weapons once you get the hang of it," Brian said, grabbing two sticks of his own.

Taylor hopped over the back of the couch and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. Maybe she should take off her sweater? She was wearing a tank top underneath, but… no, not yet. Even so, excitement slowly replaced the anxiety in her stomach.

It wasn't the same as having actual powers, but it was nice to feel useful for once. Something about holding a weapon in her hands, even just wooden sticks, was… empowering. She hated feeling helpless, and she probably wouldn't be able to get away with headbutting Sophia next time.

"Start with both sticks chambered on your shoulders. No, like this…"

Brian walked them through two four-count drills, and the loft echoed with the heavy, repeated clack of wood against wood.

…

Monday, April 18th, 2011.

Dr. Frederick Hoffman was in the midst of a reasonably amicable but difficult divorce. He'd known that his wife was unhappy for a while, but for some reason believed it was a tolerable level of unhappiness. As if such a thing was acceptable. He knew better. He should have seen the signs, done something sooner…

It was completely understandable, then, that he'd been distracted this morning and forgotten his ID badge. He wasn't quite used to the kids' morning routine without Deb around to help.

He made his way through the slow revolving door and entered the main atrium of the Medhall research hospital. He usually used the employee entrance, but he needed to stop by the security desk today.

"Mornin', Fred," the on-duty agent called as he approached. He had a long, stretched sort of face and a wispy mustache. He should probably just shave that; it wasn't an improvement. Not that Fred would say anything about it.

Fred might be exhausted and a bit out of sorts, but he was still polite.

"Guard's name is Morty, but he goes by Buck. Don't ask why," Tattletale told Taylor in their mobile surveillance post, otherwise known as Lisa's car, parked in the hospital's public parking deck next door.

"Hey, Buck," Nobody said, a tired attempt at positivity despite Fred's annoyance with himself and the situation. "Left my badge sitting on the counter. Any chance I can just get a temp for the day? Or do I need a whole new one?"

"You know the rules, gotta brick your old one and get you a new copy. Plus, you owe me a coffee," Buck glanced over at them while his fingers went to work, clicking away at the keyboard. "The stuff they give you upstairs is head and shoulders above the crap in the break room."

"You got it," Nobody grinned at them, relieved that they wouldn't need to go through any more hassle before the day even started.

Fred had a good accent. Clear and easy to work with. Midwest foundation, with a bit of Boston picked up recently.

They watched the activity in the open entrance hall. The hospital never really closed, but the day shift and visiting hours were just picking up steam. Taylor would be a bit late for school, but that was fine.

The security guard handed over their new access pass.

"Thanks, Buck. Don't work too hard," Nobody said, already turning towards the elevators. They were running behind, after all.

"Never do," Buck grinned after them.

Nice guy. Awful mustache.

Nobody was the last one to slip into the elevator. Frederick didn't have time to wait for the next one.

"Where to?" The man crowded into the corner by the buttons offered. It was polite to ask, when the elevator was this full.

"Fourteenth floor. Cytopathology," Tattletale helpfully supplied.

Taylor was internally grumbling about being a living radio relay, but Taylor was always grumbling about something. Nobody was having fun.

"Fourteen, please and thanks," Nobody said.

The elevator ride was silent and awkward after that. Totally normal.

Nobody considered pulling out a cigarette, but that would give away the game. They couldn't exactly pop right now.

They followed Tattletale's directions to Frederick's office, swiping their ID to access the secure area. They nodded politely at a few of their coworkers as they walked.

Just another day, living the dream.

They stopped and grabbed two coffees in the employee lounge on the way past.

Frederick's office didn't have a window, but it wasn't a cubicle either. He couldn't keep real plants alive to save his life, so he had a couple fake ones to brighten up the room a bit.

Nobody sat down and waited for the computer to boot up. For the level of security clearance Frederick's research required, you'd think he'd be afforded a nicer computer. Or a window.

But that was why Tattletale chose him for this little stunt. He had access, but wasn't important. Any little inconsistencies would go unnoticed.

Nobody pulled out a flash drive and plugged it into the back of the computer tower, tucked away under the desk. Frederick didn't like computers, or his department's IT agent. He definitely wouldn't be looking back there for a while.

Whatever computer virus thingamabob Lisa'd cooked up got to work, and Nobody sipped their coffee.

Buck was right. This was pretty good coffee.

"All set over here," Tattletale's voice was smug. Then again, it usually was. More so than usual, now, though. "The real Dr. Hoffman is pulling up to the employee parking deck. If you leave now, you'll pass him before he makes it to the building."

Lovely.

Nobody grabbed their coffees, turned off Fred's computer, and strode towards the elevators with purpose. They were busy, and certainly didn't have time to chat.

The elevator going down was significantly less crowded.

Buck was busy dealing with an irate customer. He didn't notice them leave his coffee on the counter before slipping out the employee entrance.

"Does anyone else feel like this is a bit too easy?" Alec complained from the car. "I could still be wrapped in the warm, loving embrace of my futon, but nooo, you dragged me out here at the ass-crack of dawn to… what? Listen to you spout random shit in Specter's general direction? Is this what passes for crime these days? Where's the risk, the action?"

Nobody let out a low laugh. They were pretty sure Lisa dragged Alec along just to fuck with him, but they weren't about to say that out loud. Mostly because they were actively infiltrating enemy territory, and they weren't out clean just yet.

The real Fredrick still had his old badge. The one that didn't work anymore.

"You have exactly one job, and it's coming up now," Tattletale glanced at Regent from the driver's seat. "Pay attention."

Nobody took the stairs up to the third level of the employee parking garage. They couldn't see the others from here, but they knew they were parked on the same level, just across the street.

"You're in a blind spot in three… two… one…"

Nobody let go of Fred's access card and their coffee, popped, reformed, and caught the real objects again before they even began to fall.

They didn't spill a drop. Showbiz, baby.

Taylor groaned. At least Lisa thought they were funny.

Now wearing the face of Generic Bald Man #4, as they'd dubbed him, Nobody pushed their way out the stairwell door.

And ran directly into the real Dr. Frederick Hoffman.

Fred's leg spasmed unexpectedly and he stumbled straight into Nobody, spilling coffee all over both of them and sending them sprawling to the concrete floor.

"Oh, damn, I'm so sorry," Fredrick untangled himself awkwardly.

He was far too preoccupied to notice Nobody pulling his security badge from his coat pocket.

"Shit. Great way to start the week, eh?" Nobody grinned at him good-naturedly as they shook drops of coffee from their sleeves.

"It can only go up from here," Fred agreed, pulling himself to his feet.

"Amen."

Fred started to walk away.

"Oy, mate, you dropped something," Nobody pointed to the ID badge on the pavement. The new one they'd gotten from Buck, and left behind during the scuffle.

"Right, thanks. Don't know where my head's at today," Fred grumbled. He picked up his badge, and hurried into the stairwell.

He was late for work, after all.

Nobody put their hands in their pockets and whistled while they strolled away.

They'd have to thank Taylor for being such a drama queen. Crime was so fucking fun.

"Blind spot coming up. Three… two… one…"

Nobody popped again, no longer burdened by real things like flash drives or coffee, and landed on Alec's lap in the back of Lisa's car.

"Fuck!"

"Sorry, I missed," Nobody lied. They flickered into a short, redheaded girl instead of Generic Bald Man #4. The back seat wasn't very big. Plus, they liked being pretty. Sue them.

Taylor snorted from the front seat while Nobody flopped over and settled their feet in Alec's lap. They didn't bother with a seat belt, and even Taylor didn't suggest it. That would be silly. They were beyond such mundane frivolities.

"Well done," Lisa grinned in the mirror at them as she pulled the car out into the downtown morning traffic. "Easy money."

"Easy for you," Nobody smirked up at her.

"Excuse me, I did most of the work! You just walked fifty feet and spilled coffee on a guy. Do you know how hard it is to cold read Specter's responses to her memories of your actions in real time? No one else could do what I just did!" Lisa griped.

Drat. Lisa said 'no one' instead of 'nobody'. Nobody'd been hoping for an opportunity to make a joke. Oh well. Can't win 'em all.

"I suppose you earned your keep," Nobody said, settling in for the ride.

They were definitely still riding high, though. Alec was right. With Lisa's insight in their back pocket, putting on new faces became almost too easy. Breaking into one of the most secure buildings in the city was child's play. Practically a drive by.

Now, they just had to survive the day's true challenge…

High school drama. Horrifying.

…

Monday, April 18th, 2011.

Taylor always dreaded any class she was forced to share with Emma.

It was absolutely, definitely dread in the pit of her stomach today. Nothing else.

She checked her usual seat in the back corner of the classroom for traps, as always. Old habits died hard, and she didn't trust Emma and Sophia's supposed ceasefire for a second.

Nothing this morning, though. Not even spilled juice or mean messages from Friday.

Taylor tried not to notice when she arrived, but she did. How could she not?

For better or worse, Emma lit up every room she entered.

It was worse. Definitely, definitely worse.

Her best-friend-turned-living-hell said 'hi' to her various minions that shared this class, but none of them looked at her. And Taylor certainly wasn't looking at them.

The moths were back. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Despite her best attempts to the contrary, Taylor must have been looking at Emma, because, when Emma looked at her, their eyes met.

A month ago, Taylor would have looked away.

This time, she didn't. Whatever was going on between her and Emma, it was… different, now. Since Nobody died, and Emma told them things she never would have said to Taylor otherwise.

Or maybe she would have, eventually. Taylor couldn't know what would have happened without Nobody's intervention.

But Emma couldn't take it back now, either. Taylor knew.

Knew Emma still loved her, somehow. Impossibly, under all the venom and acid.

Knew that she lied, when she said she didn't like kissing her. Why else would she have kissed her corpse?

What else had she lied about? And, more importantly, why?

It had something to do with that police report Tattletale found. Taylor was sure of it.

She just didn't know what to do about it.

Emma was still staring.

Maybe she didn't know, either.

They were connected, across the low chatter of the classroom. Too far away to speak, but neither of them looked away. Orbiting in their own little empty space, where nothing else really mattered by comparison.

Green used to be her favorite color.

Emma's expression was different, now. Not the wild elation from Friday morning, or the cruel sharp edges before that, but… some combination. Still sharp as sawblades, but now there was something underneath. Something more.

Taylor's chest tightened painfully.

She hated Emma so fucking much. It wasn't fair that all it took was a few whispered words and a bit of warmth under the acid to get Taylor's hopes up. She didn't even know what she was hoping for.

Still, she definitely wasn't going to look away first. She kept her stare as cold and frigid as she could. Emma wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing her hope.

One of Emma's 'friends' demanded her attention, and Taylor smiled. It wasn't a happy expression.

The green heat flared, and Emma looked away.

She actually seemed a bit flustered. Her cheeks were dusted with red under her makeup, and she stammered her way through whatever response her simpering groupie required.

That was… new.

Taylor leaned back and stared blankly towards the front of the class, not really seeing the whiteboard at all.

Why was she making this harder than it needed to be?

She should just be happy that Emma and Sophia seemed to be leaving her alone, for now.

She shouldn't want anything else.

She didn't.

…

Tuesday, April 19th, 2011.

The Undersiders loft was nicer than the old abandoned gym, but Taylor still liked going somewhere to be alone.

Well, as alone as she ever was.

Lisa, Alec, and Brian were… nice. Nicer than she expected. Bitch was still a work in progress, but she spent most of her time with her dogs anyway. She didn't seem to know what to make of Taylor, either. Or Nobody, for that matter.

Still, there was a… pressure, that came with being around the Undersiders. A role she had to play. Specter, the reluctant villain, keeper of the shapeshifting ghost. It wasn't the same.

And, she needed to talk to Nobody. Away from everyone else.

Hitting them repeatedly with sticks helped, too.

They squared off across from each other, bodies and clothes matching. Here, Taylor could wear her tank top and shorts without feeling self-conscious. It was easier to move that way.

They started slow, four beats. The sound of their sticks cracking against one another filled the empty space.

One, two, three, four.

Easy. Routine.

Brian was onto something here. This was much easier to learn than undisciplined brawling, for both of them.

When they moved in tandem like this, identical and mirrored, the lines became blurred. Their memories were shared, their experiences the same. Who was who, really, in this moment?

It probably should have bothered Taylor more, but she was used to having Nobody in her head. And vice versa.

They sped up without a conscious command. The whir of displaced air accompanied the percussion.

One, two, three, four.

The mission yesterday helped them feel settled, after Friday's debacle. They were useful. They weren't an outsider.

They could easily see how the Undersiders could give them somewhere to belong. Somewhere that didn't rely on the assholes at school or their father's inconsistent affections.

It was something to do. A way to feel alive that wasn't chained to cruel, viridescent-

They sped up again, switching to a heaven's six, followed by a reverse six. A different rhythm, but they adapted perfectly. They moved together, synchronized in their violent dance.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"You still haven't apologized," Taylor said. Her voice carried even over the wooden cacophony, and Nobody would remember what she said, regardless.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"Don't want to unless I mean it," Nobody replied.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"I'll trade an apology for an 'I won't do it again'?" Taylor offered.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"That's fair," Nobody said over the blur of wood and echoing cracks. "I won't take your face without your go-ahead, from now on. Anyone else… well, no promises."

One-two-three four-five-six.

"I'll take it," Taylor grunted.

Then she broke the pattern, deflecting Nobody's next strike wide and leaving them open to take a nightstick to the jaw.

Taylor grinned at the satisfying crack of breaking bone. Nobody still always forgot to clench.

"'eap 'ot," Nobody complained. Their voice sounded mushy through the broken jaw.

They popped and reformed, no longer broken or sweaty.

Taylor looked herself over out of two sets of eyes.

Nobody grinned, with her own smile, and it wasn't… terrible. It looked more carefree on their face than it ever did on hers, even though they had the same face, at the moment.

"I guess I deserved that," they said. "Sorry for kissing your ex, or whatever. In my defense, she kissed me. I'm the victim here, really."

"She's not my… you know what, I'm not talking about this right now," Taylor rolled her eyes. "You good to continue?"

"Always. Bring it on, Specter," Nobody's tone turned her admittedly overdramatic codename into a taunt.

"We need to think of a better name for you," Taylor said idly as she rechambered her sticks to start the heaven's six rotation again. Right stick over her right shoulder, left against the right side of her waist. "We can keep Reboot as a cover, but it won't really be real, you know?"

They began the dance again.

One-two-three four-five-six.

They flowed through the motions, two bodies following a single path.

One-two-three four-five-six.

Taylor knew when Nobody had the idea, and could feel their sudden trepidation at suggesting it.

So, she did it for them.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"Or… we could both just be Specter? Depending on the situation," she said.

One-two-three four-five-six.

They smiled.

One-two-three four-five-six.

"I'd like that, I think."

One-two-three four-five-six.

They were agreed, then, moving as one while they trained together in the dusty afternoon light. They were of one mind, an ouroboros that bled from one to the other without end.

We are Specter.

…

Notes:

Much more upbeat, this time. Taylor and Emma are living in two different genres lol I promise they'll do more than stare longingly at each other next time, but Nobody working things out with Taylor needed to happen first. Plus, more Nobody Stranger fun. Lisa is having a great time. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and appreciated. I don't own Worm. Nobody swapped all your coffee grounds with Folgers to see if you actually notice the difference. Unless you already drink Folgers, in which case Nobody still swapped them anyway. Just in case.

Chapter 8: Surge 2.2

Surge 2.2

Thursday, April 21st, 2011.

Nobody spent their morning on the roof of Winslow High School, trying to figure out how to play catch with themselves.

It didn't quite work.

Momentum wasn't preserved when they popped and reformed, and that included any ball they threw. It was annoying.

The best they'd managed was throwing the baseball, then popping just as it reached the other side of the roof and reforming with it back in their glove, in the same position. It didn't really count, though. Didn't give that solid smack of a good impact.

In the building below, Taylor was staring at Emma again. Because of course she was. What else was new?

Hopefully she'd crack and confront her soon. Nobody could only take so much confused pining.

"I think we should steal a motorcycle," Nobody said out loud to the empty roof.

They caught the mental equivalent of a raised eyebrow from Taylor. Apparently, she was actually paying attention to them, this time. Wonderful.

Taylor focused, and Nobody did their best to listen and remember. Keeping up with thoughts, even consciously formed words, was more difficult than anything spoken aloud. They were both getting better at it, though.

"How do we steal a motorcycle if we don't know how to drive one?" Taylor mused internally.

"How do we learn to drive one before we steal one?" Nobody shrugged.

"A true catch-22."

Nobody laughed and leaned back against an air conditioning unit.

"We should just ask Lisa. She could probably buy one for us. We have enough money from the Medhall thing."

"We don't have a license," Taylor thought.

"We're a villain. Driving underage wouldn't be the worst thing we've done this week."

"Specter is a villain. Taylor hasn't committed any crimes, aside from some minor grave-robbing, depending on how you look at it," Taylor pointed out dryly.

"I don't think that counts. I didn't make it that far. Crime scene interference, maybe?"

"Whatever. The point is, if I get pulled over like this, it'll cause problems."

"So just drive it around as Specter, then. Or let me drive."

"What, for two blocks before you pop and the bike crashes?"

"No, I mean, you could ride on the back. Like a child. Oh my God, we could get you a sidecar!" Nobody exclaimed.

Taylor snorted out loud and got some strange looks from the students next to her.

"If anyone's going in the sidecar, it's you."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I'm literally talking to myself right now. Do you know how weird it is to think stuff and hear you answer?"

"I mean, yeah? I'm in your head, too."

"Whatever. I'll talk to Lisa about the motorcycle thing. It does sound kinda fun."

"Plus, it would solve the whole 'you run super slow' problem," Nobody grinned.

"Some of us have to earn our muscles the old fashioned way."

Nobody put their headphones back in, and nodded their head to the music while they went ahead and texted Lisa about the 'motorcycle thing', as Taylor put it.

Taylor went back to her regularly scheduled program of staring at Emma and sighing dramatically.

…

Friday, April 22nd, 2011.

"Now, I'm not one to discourage potentially interesting ideas, but are you sure about this?" Nobody fell into step beside her.

Taylor shot them a glare.

"Yes. I don't trust Emma, but I need to know what the hell is going on with her. And she already knows about my powers, sort of, so we won't even be revealing anything she doesn't already know if this goes south," Taylor said.

It'd been a week since Emma's confession to Nobody's corpse. A week without a single word or attack. A week of nothing.

Taylor needed to know why. Not knowing was like holding her breath, an aching need that only got more painful and unignorable by the second.

Her rapid pace quickly ate away at the sidewalk beneath her feet. The path from the bus stop to Emma's house was uncomfortably familiar, even years later.

Nobody wore a tall, lithe body today. A sandy-haired guy with freckles and startlingly blue eyes.

Emma's sycophants probably would have been shocked to see her walking with someone actually attractive. The thought made her snort, given their current destination. And the nature of Nobody's existence.

Nobody unexpectedly flicked her on the nose, abruptly derailing her train of thought.

"Hey, what the fuck," Taylor slapped their hand away.

"Positive self-talk only. You're going to give me a complex if you keep it up," Nobody grinned.

"You could always just stay out of my head."

"Naw, I'd get bored if I was stuck with just my own thoughts for company," Nobody said. "There aren't very many of them floating around in here as it is."

"Uh huh," Taylor replied sarcastically.

Brick columns marking the edge of a metal gate and a well-maintained driveway appeared around the corner. In her minds' eye, Taylor could almost see the ghost of Emma and Sophia leaning against them, waiting around to ruin her life.

It wasn't as hot today, though. Summer wasn't quite here yet.

Taylor stopped and stared up at the house for a long moment.

It felt strange, being back here. She wasn't the same, anymore. Emma had seen to that. So many good things, ripped away, broken and twisted.

Why the fuck was she back, then?

She wasn't sure, but if she stopped to think about it for too long, she'd go crazy.

Well, crazier.

Instead of turning towards the house, Taylor kept walking down the street, away from her target. She had to find somewhere quiet to focus, and there was a park less than a block from here. She and Emma used to walk down here to play when they were kids. It was close enough that their parents let them go on their own.

Well within Nobody's range.

The freedom used to be exciting. Taylor didn't know if the feeling in her gut now was excitement or not.

Maybe.

She decided not to think about it.

The park looked almost exactly the same as it had, all those years ago. It felt… off. Like it should have changed with her, somehow.

Taylor folded her legs under her and sat against one of the trees. She didn't really care if her jeans got a bit damp.

Deep breath.

She could do this.

"Okay. Go," she said. Nobody already knew what she meant.

Taylor closed her eyes, and let herself sink into Nobody's memories just as they focused on hers in turn. Nobody put on her face, body, old hoodie, grass-stained jeans and all.

The feedback loop began, again. They were getting better and better at triggering it on purpose. Better at thinking in tandem, sharing memories back and forth in real time.

It helped when Taylor closed her eyes. When she didn't move. The lack of stimulus let her put all her focus on Nobody's actions.

She was a ghost, riding around in the back of Nobody's head.

A specter.

"It's a good thing there's plenty of space in here," Nobody thought sardonically.

"You already made that joke once today. Plus, what were you just saying about positive self-talk?"

Nobody laughed. Taylor heard it through their ears, felt it bubble from their lips.

They were joined, but also separate. Their thoughts bled together until it was difficult to find the precise edges within themselves.

The implications were a bit worrying, but the exercise was worth the effort, overall.

They didn't trust Emma. Not in the slightest. Not nearly as far as they could probably throw her. Not enough to put their actual body at risk confronting her. Not after she cut out their eyes.

But…

Taylor needed to talk to her, and Nobody was more than willing to volunteer as tribute. Almost too willing. Taylor could feel their excitement for the inevitable upheaval ahead.

It was still necessary, though. And, if Emma tried to pull her usual bullshit, Nobody was much more resistant to her emotional manipulation, on the grounds of not being in love with-

"I'm not in love with her," Taylor glared at Nobody. Metaphorically. They got the picture.

"You literally can't lie to me. You don't even know if that was my thought or your own."

"Fuck off. Check the garage and make sure Alan and Zoe aren't home," Taylor forced Nobody back on track.

"Yes, ma'am."

Taylor always got suspicious when Nobody was too agreeable. Nothing good ever came of it.

They popped silently into the garage. Sure enough, no cars. Perfect.

Anne was away at college, so Emma should be alone. She'd left Winslow alone, at least. Taken the bus home alone.

No, Taylor wasn't stalking her. That would be pathetic. And creepy. Not that Emma didn't deserve it. Technically, Nobody was the one doing the stalking, anyway.

"Your self-delusions are wondrous to behold," Nobody thought idly. "It's an art, really."

Perhaps this was a mistake.

"I did ask if you were sure," Nobody reminded her.

"Just… stick to what I want to say, please?"

"Of course."

They popped into Emma's bedroom.

It, too, looked heartbreakingly similar to the last time they'd been here. Overflowing walk-in closet. Nest of stuffed animals and pillows. The same mess, the same afternoon sun, even if they were both so different, now.

In the park a block away, Taylor's chest hurt.

In the nest of soft things, Emma looked up at them and froze.

"Hello, Emma," Nobody said.

They weren't sure how she'd respond. They had a plan, a script, a list of questions to ask. Answers to demand.

All of that went out the window when Emma threw herself sideways, shoved one hand under the pile of pillows, and yanked out a small, matte black pistol.

"Hot damn, you sure can pick 'em," Nobody thought as Emma leveled the deadly steel at their head.

"Who are you? Where's Taylor?" Emma demanded coldly. Taylor was very familiar with Emma's frigid knives, but she somehow looked far more dangerous now than she ever had when she was laughing at her or dumping cafeteria food on her or-

Had the thing that took her Emma's place been a facade for something even worse?

Something about the sight of Emma, her Emma, pointing a fucking gun at her face… it cracked something deep within her.

After everything? After last week? After the last two goddamn years?

Taylor's blood burned.

She pushed, and it was like she could finally flex a muscle she didn't even know she had. A relief, and a deep, wrenching pain, all rolled into one.

"Woah, what the-" Nobody's perspective twisted as Taylor forced them into the back seat and took control.

Taylor popped, and reformed with one hand already gripping Emma's wrist. With a twist, the weapon fell from her grasp and bounced across the floor.

She felt Nobody blink and open their eyes in confusion. Taylor's eyes. In the park down the road.

She was a bit too preoccupied to unpack all of that right now.

Emma tried to throw her off, but Taylor's body was hardened by months of training with Nobody, and Emma was soft. Taylor caught Emma's wild swing in her other hand and pinned both her wrists against the wall above her bed.

Emma's knee hit her in the gut from below, hard, and Taylor let out an involuntary hiss at the impact. She brought her own leg up to kick Emma's aside, planting her knee between Emma's legs to hold her in place on the bed.

Then their eyes met, and they both froze. Taylor, looming over her tormentor, now pinned beneath her, and Emma staring up at her with a suddenly warm, almost awed expression. The contrast from the previous ice and sawblades was startling. Taylor's breath came in sharp bursts, and she was momentarily stunned by the sight of Emma so close, like this. Her pale skin flushed, her hair splayed across the bed, just like-

"There you are," Emma breathed in between her own gasps. "Hey, Tay."

Hearing her call her that, again, breathless and excited, without the venom turning her love into a knife…

The moths and searing heat burned in the pit of her stomach, deep in her bones.

Emma was so fucking beautiful. Taylor wanted her, needed her like the drowning needed air. She drank in the sight of her. She'd never, ever get enough.

They were so close. All she needed to do was lean down, and-

Just like that, Taylor's conscious awareness came crashing back with the force of a freight train.

Touching Emma's skin was suddenly akin to grabbing cast iron fresh out of the oven. Unbearable. Intolerable. Taylor released her with another strangled hiss, popping away to stand in the middle of the all-too-familiar room once again.

Sitting on the wet grass in the park, Nobody looked down at their hands. Taylor's hands. They flexed experimentally, feeling the bone and sinew move under their skin.

Their real skin.

They couldn't pop. Couldn't make adjustments, anymore. They were just… Taylor.

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck?" Nobody thought in her general direction.

"I don't fucking know!" Taylor's brain felt like it was on fire, for multiple reasons. Like ants were crawling around inside her skull. "I'm a bit distracted over here-"

"You stole my body!" Nobody accused.

"Pot, meet kettle!"

Taylor shoved Nobody's awareness to the back of her mind. She'd figure that part out… later.

Emma sat up slowly, silently, then stood so they were face to face. The distance between them might have only been a few feet, but it somehow felt like both miles and inches at the same time.

So close, yet so very, very far away.

Her script was burned to ashes along with everything else. Emma always had that effect on her.

"Why?" Taylor demanded. She wasn't even sure what she was asking for, really. There were so, so many whys.

Emma stared up at her, unflinching and unafraid. The cruel edge to her eyes was gone, but Taylor didn't trust it. Didn't trust her.

"We didn't fit, anymore," Emma said.

What?

Emma didn't elaborate. Just stared.

"That doesn't make any sense," Taylor ground out.

"I know," Emma smiled, and Taylor's heart stuttered unevenly. "But I don't care."

Taylor wanted to break something. She wanted to scream.

"Why are you like this?" Taylor gestured vaguely at Emma with a wild, uncontrolled wave. "You go from, what? Hating my fucking guts, making my life miserable, to… this? Why, Emma? Why the fuck did you do… everything?"

"I never hated you," Emma said.

Taylor came very close to punching her.

Instead, she started pacing. She knew she probably looked insane, but she fucking felt insane, dammit.

Emma had that effect on her. It wasn't fair.

"You could've fooled me! You did fool me, apparently. Two fucking years, Emma! I just want to know why! Need to…" Taylor trailed off. Her feet wore a path into the carpet.

Something dark stirred behind Emma's eyes, different and deeper than the petty shell Taylor had been looking at for the last year and a half.

"I hated your smile, that day. Hated that you got to be happy," Emma's serrated edges crept back into her voice. "Hated that I got broken, and you didn't."

Emma stepped forward into her path. Taylor stopped just inches away. She met her eyes again, emerald pits of cold fire. She couldn't help herself. Couldn't look away.

"So… I made you match. Made us match. So we could be together, again," Emma whispered, her chin held high in defiance, despite her words. "It took longer than I expected."

Taylor hadn't realized how much taller than Emma she was until now. Her stomach was a writhing mess of butterflies and moths and ragged metal shards.

"You're fucking crazy," Taylor hissed.

"And you love me, anyway," Emma smiled again. It was wonderful and agonizing in equal measure, and so, so close.

As if that made any fucking sense.

"You… you…" Taylor couldn't find the right words. What the fuck was she supposed to say to that?

"I couldn't be fixed," Emma continued softly. Almost gently. "But you could still be broken."

Taylor's anger burned white hot, again. She shoved Emma hard, pushing her up against the far wall of the bedroom before she could stop herself.

"You really think I still love you, after everything you did?" Taylor screamed in her face. "You think you deserve ANYTHING, from me?"

Emma stared up at her, trapped in a cage between Taylor's body and the sheetrock. Her eyes were on fire, and she was still fucking smiling.

"Yes," Emma said. Like it was that simple.

"Fuck you," Taylor ground out between clenched teeth. "I fucking hate you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

Emma sounded excited by the prospect.

Fuck.

The churning bonfire of fury and frustration and need and desire finally overflowed, and Taylor put her fist through the drywall just to the right of Emma's stupid, beautiful, infuriating, smiling face.

Emma didn't even flinch. If anything, the verdant flames in her eyes flared even brighter, blush coloring her cheeks.

That probably should have hurt. It probably did. Taylor just couldn't feel it, right now. Blood coated her hand when she ripped it free. Dust swirled in the air, but she couldn't look away. Everything was green.

Taylor wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.

She didn't actually want to hurt Emma, though. Despite everything.

But she couldn't fucking win. Emma wanted her to love her, wanted her to hate her, and she was giving her exactly what she fucking wanted.

Emma always won. Always. It wasn't fucking fair.

Taylor glared down at her, at the fire mirrored behind the gorgeous emerald sea. Emma licked her lips, and Taylor's eyes traced the movement with unconscious attention.

Emma must have seen her looking.

"Anytime you want, Tay," she breathed, eyes still wide open and falling into Taylor's own.

The reminder knocked the wind out of her more effectively than any physical blow. The memory of those lips on hers intruded unbidden on her conscious mind, the memories she'd buried in the pit for so long. Buried for a good reason. Buried to keep them from tearing her to pieces from within.

She wanted to feel like that, again. Wanted to feel her. More than she'd ever wanted anything in the world.

How could something she wanted so badly hurt so fucking much?

They were so close. It would be easy, too easy, to lean down and…

Taylor popped and reformed on the grass in the park in front of Nobody.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"If you're going to make a habit of this, you could at least carry some real cigarettes for me to smoke while I wait," Nobody commented from where they were flopped on their back in the shade of a tree.

Taylor's knees buckled, and the ground was suddenly much closer to her face. That was probably a good thing, because the traitorous moths raced up her throat and she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the grass a moment later.

"Wow, you're a mess," Nobody observed helpfully. "Be a dear and pop that away before you give me my body back, would you?"

"Fuck off," Taylor forced out between her teeth. None of her muscles were willing to unclench, currently. Plus, if she opened her mouth, she'd probably throw up again, anyway.

"I don't think I can, right now. I appear to be stuck in this mortal coil. Well, your mortal coil, specifically."

Taylor took several deep, heaving breaths.

Why was her face wet?

Oh. Tears. Right. When had she started crying?

She choked on nothing, and spat a gob of bile onto the damp grass.

It felt like she was being ripped in half. The part of her that wanted to go right back to Emma's bedroom clawed at the rational part of her mind, begging her to give in and just take everything they'd ever wanted for the last two years. Pretend she wasn't broken. Everything would be okay, if she could just have her Emma back.

The rest of her knew that that was a terrible fucking idea.

She couldn't trust Emma again. Not after what she did. Not after this.

Fuck.

Taylor hated her.

She still loved her. Still wanted her.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Emma wasn't sorry. She'd broken her on purpose, and why? So they'd be 'right' for each other, or some bullshit? Because something broke Emma, and she wanted to make Taylor like her?

What the fuck, Emma?

Does the 'why' even matter, though?

Taylor shook her head. Of course it mattered. Emma couldn't just… wasn't allowed to…

What they used to have was gone, and it was never, ever coming back. Not the same way, at least.

The traitorous part of herself whispered that whatever this was, now, could be different. Better, even.

But it wasn't, and she pushed that voice down into the pit where it belonged.

The iron rock in her gut hadn't lightened at all. She needed something. Needed to do something. Needed to move, before the moths tore her to pieces from the inside out.

Taylor wrenched herself to her feet and popped to get rid of the vomit and tears and everything else.

"Come on," she said to Nobody as she started walking away. She needed to get out of range of Emma's bedroom. Needed to remove the temptation before it overwhelmed her and she did something she'd regret.

"Can I have my body back?" Nobody asked as they fell into step beside her again, two identical versions of herself walking down the sidewalk.

One real, and one…

The implications of what she'd done finally managed to leak past the Emma fog.

"Holy fuck, you're me," Taylor exclaimed before she could stop herself, spinning to face her own face with Nobody's expressions. Her actual face.

"No shit, Sherlock," Nobody threw up their hands. Her hands. "I know you're having a whole romantic crisis right now, and normally I'd approve, but you're doing it in my body!"

They just stared at each other for a long moment.

"How do we switch back?" Taylor asked.

"You're asking me? This whole thing is your fault! I was all set to follow your directions like we planned, but nooo, you just had to have both hands on the wheel," Nobody rolled their eyes. "I should go, like, get super drunk then leave you with the hangover or something. As punishment."

"Okay, okay, let me just…" Taylor took a couple more deep breaths and tried to push away the… everything… from the last ten minutes and focus on finding whatever lever she pulled to swap them.

It didn't work.

After a few long minutes of standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, Taylor sighed.

"Let's go to the loft," she said tiredly. "Maybe Lisa can help."

"She's going to laugh at us."

"Probably," Taylor agreed. At least someone would get to enjoy their situation.

They walked in strained silence for a while.

"This might be a stupid question, but… do you actually want to swap back?" Nobody said.

It wasn't a stupid question. Taylor had been doing her best not to think about that.

"I… don't know. Do you?" Taylor asked.

"I'm not sure, either."

Taylor nodded absently.

She'd envied Nobody's freedom. Their power. But now that she had it…

She knew why they didn't feel real, some days. Knowing that she could change into anyone she wanted, be anywhere, as long as it wasn't too far from Nobody…

Well, there was a reason she was still herself, walking next to them. Even if it was a bit suspicious. Twins weren't that uncommon, it would probably be fine.

"Ideally, we can figure out how to swap whenever we want. Take turns, or whatever," Taylor said eventually.

"That sounds… better," Nobody agreed.

The sun started to set. The buildings became more and more run down as they made their way away from Emma's affluent neighborhood.

"She knew I wasn't you," Nobody spoke up randomly.

"Hmmm?" Taylor dragged her thoughts away from the messy bedroom to the south.

"Emma. She pulled the gun on us because she knew I wasn't you, somehow. She was totally fine as soon as you took over. Well, not fine, but you know what I mean."

That revelation really shouldn't have made Taylor happy.

It didn't.

"She's… You know, I don't know what she is," Taylor said.

"She's a lot, that's for sure," Nobody chuckled darkly.

"Yeah."

Anytime you want, Tay.

She didn't know what she wanted.

At least, that's what she'd keep telling herself. It was easier, that way.

…

Saturday, April 23rd, 2011.

Taylor couldn't help but pause to admire her reflection in the window of a glass sided skyscraper downtown.

Her new Specter costume was… pretty badass, actually. Whoever their boss was, they had good connections.

The black, hooded jacket was much more sleek and form fitting than her hoodie, and the hood itself didn't impede her vision nearly as much. Overtop, she'd been supplied with a matching black bullet-proof vest, which was surprisingly easy to move in, and a utility belt that held her nightsticks, pepper spray, tasers, combat knife, and first aid kit. Her black trousers were made of some heavy canvas-like material, but weren't too tight and didn't get in the way.

The mask was her favorite part. Smooth and reflective, it gave only a flat, blank, mirrored visage under her hood.

Overall, the effect was menacing, if she did say so herself.

Of course, she was really just wearing a copy, right now. Nobody had taken the actual bulletproof vest to wear under their hoodie, but the rest was back at the loft. No reason to reveal that there were two Specters.

They hadn't figured out how to switch back yet. Nobody was extremely miffed that they were stuck on the sidelines for this job. Also, not sleeping was weird.

Taylor wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, she could finally get in on the action, on the other…

"I swear, if you kill us with your shitty driving, I will find a way to haunt you," Taylor said, trying not to watch as Nobody wove between the cars below on their new toy.

"Silver linings. Besides, I've got a perfect driving record."

"You learned to drive yesterday," Taylor pointed out.

"Semantics."

Taylor groaned and popped, following along above the black sport bike Tattletale had acquired for them through dubiously legal means.

"You could have just ridden with the others on Brutus," Taylor complained. They'd already had this conversation, but she still didn't like how cavalier Nobody was being with their real body.

"Where's the fun in that? Plus, the dogs hate me, anyway."

Rachel's dogs really did seem to hate Nobody more than her, no matter which body they were in. It was weird.

This worked better, anyway. Unless Nobody was forced to step in, there would be no way to connect them to the Undersiders.

"Just… don't crash, please," Taylor sighed.

"Naw, I was born for this. You gotta give it a try later, it's fucking great."

Taylor popped again, moving as far ahead as her range would allow.

On the busy downtown street below, an armored truck escorted by two black SUV's worked its way carefully through the traffic, the emblem of Vigilance Securities stamped on the side. A shell company of Coil's, apparently, and carrying quite a lot of cash.

That wasn't the real reason they were robbing them, but it was still a nice bonus.

"Convoy spotted," Taylor reported.

"Give 'em hell, Specter," Nobody grinned behind their helmet.

Taylor's heart pounded in her ears. She drew her nightsticks and rolled her shoulders, loosening up her joints in preparation. Not that it really made a difference.

She checked her watch. The timing would be crucial.

It was easy to see why Nobody enjoyed this so much. Being unkillable… It was a feeling like no other.

Taylor popped, and the chaos began.

She appeared on the center console of the SUV at the front of the convoy, stuck one nightstick into a gap in the steering wheel, and wrenched it all the way to the side.

The men in the car screamed and went for their guns, but they weren't fast enough to accomplish anything before the vehicle hopped the curb, crashed through a chain link fence, and hit a dumpster. Airbags exploded from the dash, further adding to the chaos.

Taylor was careful not to actually hit any bystanders. They weren't even going all that fast, so the men in the car would probably be fine, too. Tattletale said they were wearing their seat belts.

She ripped the cap off her pepper spray and filled the ruined car with stinging, biting mist. Just in case.

It burned like hell, but her mask kept the worst of it out of her face. She'd be popping away in a moment, anyway.

Coil's men weren't so lucky, but they'd live.

The pepper spray would pop away with her, so she gave it another second to kick in before she left for her next target.

Taylor popped again, this time landing in the cab of the armored truck itself.

The man in the passenger seat was quicker to react than the first set of guards. He leveled a Tinkertech pistol of some kind and fired without hesitation.

Taylor popped, and he shot the driver instead of her.

It was supposedly non-lethal. In theory. Hopefully Tattletale's power was right this time.

Taylor reformed and grabbed the wheel, steering the armored truck into an empty parking lot with one hand. With the other, she swung her nightstick and knocked the gun out of the passenger's hands.

Her watch beeped.

The preamble was over. It was time for the main event.

Taylor couldn't quite hold back a savage smile.

She popped again, reforming on the roof of the building next to the parking lot. Shouting and barking echoed up from below as Brutus arrived with the rest of the Undersiders, minus Nobody, moving to disable the remaining guards and empty the truck.

Taylor had her own target, though.

Across the roof from her, a caped figure in black froze at her sudden appearance.

They picked this spot to rob the convoy because it just happened to coincide with a Ward patrol route. The real heroes were conveniently off guarding a Birdcage transport, and the Undersiders' mysterious boss wanted them to have a public scuffle with the local kiddy Protectorate. Part of keeping the Undersiders relevant, but not too threatening, according to Tattletale.

Regardless, Taylor was more than happy to oblige. Especially considering her target.

"Hey there, Stalker," Taylor spun her nightsticks and grinned behind her blank mask. "Ready for round three?"

…

Notes:

So many good decisions, all around. Good times. Emma is still Emma. Taylor is Nobody, and Nobody is Taylor. This is fine. I'm sure they'll all figure themselves out... at some point. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and appreciated. I don't own Worm. Nobody is going to rearrange all the apps on your home screen.

Chapter 9: Surge 2.3

Surge 2.3

Saturday, April 23rd, 2011.

"Ready for round three?"

Taylor was willing to admit that maybe, just maybe, Nobody's lackadaisical attitude was… how had Lisa put it? Influencing their collective subconscious?

It was objectively stupid and unnecessary to taunt Sophia like that, but Taylor just couldn't help herself.

Because, more than anything, it wasn't enough for Specter the Undersider to fight Shadow Stalker the Ward. This was Taylor preparing to show Sophia that she would never be her punching bag, ever again.

And she wanted… needed Sophia to know it was her. Before, during, and after.

"Heb-" Sophia cut off abruptly. Taylor could almost hear her teeth grinding together.

Taylor's smile widened behind her mask.

It was risky, but Taylor was reasonably sure that Sophia wouldn't sell her out to the PRT. That wouldn't be an acceptable way to win for Sophia. She wouldn't be able to live with the knowledge that Taylor forced her to go crying to a teacher. That kind of thing might be fair game at Winslow, but not here. Not where Sophia felt powerful. Too much of Sophia's identity was tied up in being a strong cape.

And if Sophia did tell anyone…

Well, it wasn't like Taylor's real life was all that great, anyway. Dad would probably be pissed, but it wasn't like he could do anything. It wouldn't keep her away from the Undersiders, Nobody, or Emma, and that was all that really mattered.

Sophia raised one of her hand crossbows.

No more fucking around, then. Sophia was on the same page. This wasn't an unarmed spar on a residential rooftop.

Powers were fair game, and Taylor finally, finally had access to hers.

She popped and reformed behind Sophia, crouching to swing hard at her enemy's knee while hopefully staying low enough to avoid a rogue crossbow shot.

Sophia had good instincts, though, and more practice actually fighting with her powers than she did. The moment Taylor disappeared from the other side of the roof, Sophia's body turned to dusky smoke and the baton caught nothing but air.

Just have to keep moving.

Sophia reformed with her other crossbow already aimed, but Taylor popped again as the weapon fired.

The bolt didn't look like the bladed broadhead that killed Nobody last week. Guess the PRT didn't want their Wards racking up a body count.

Not that that ever stopped Sophia, obviously.

Taylor reformed and swung again, aiming for Sophia's extended wrist. This time, her enemy didn't manage to turn to shadow before the baton reached its target. Taylor relished the solid crack of wood against armor, the reverberation lancing up her arm. The blow wasn't quite strong enough to break Sophia's wrist through her armor, but it did make her drop one of her crossbows.

Ironically, despite their undeniable restless streak, Nobody generally preferred the more subtle aspects of their shared power. Jobs like the Medhall infiltration were much more exciting to them than fighting someone like Oni Lee. Not that they'd turn down a good brawl.

Taylor, on the other hand, had always been too busy trying to keep them both alive to cut loose, before. But now…

Now, she was free.

The meager satisfaction of punching Nobody in the face paled in comparison.

Sophia leapt sideways and turned to shadow again, but Taylor tracked her easily as she arced across the rooftop. Sophia's shadow state was a bit blurred, but still very much identifiable in the morning sun.

A ghostly crossbow bolt flew from Sophia's other weapon. Instead of popping immediately, Taylor stopped to watch both it and Sophia closely.

About six feet away from the mass of shadow that was her enemy, the bolt became real again.

Good to know.

The projectile travelled quickly, though, and hit her shoulder just outside of the bulletproof vest before she could react. Sophia had excellent aim, if nothing else.

The barbed glass head stung, but it wasn't the worst pain Sophia had caused her by far. An irritation, in the grand scheme of things. A worthwhile cost, to test the quirks of Sophia's power.

Sophia reformed midair and dropped back to the rooftop.

That made sense, too. Her momentum obviously carried a lot further in her Breaker state, so she needed to turn back if she didn't want to fly off the roof. Or through it.

Taylor could feel a fast-acting paralytic of some kind working its way through her system. Her limbs and eyelids were already getting heavy.

Sophia paused on the other side of the roof, obviously waiting to see if it would bring her down.

"Ow," Taylor deadpanned.

Then she popped, and left both the bolt and the poison behind.

Lisa was right. It was getting easier and easier to mentally separate her awareness from her body.

She was not herself.

She was a consciousness piloting a projection. A ghost in an unkillable, infinitely-repairable machine.

"Now you're getting it," Nobody grinned at nothing down below. They'd apparently found a nice, quiet bubble tea shop that didn't have security cameras. Good for them.

Their motorcycle was parked illegally, but the cops probably had bigger things to worry about right now.

Taylor reformed in front of Sophia and swung again. Predictably, her opponent turned to shadow to avoid it.

As soon as she inevitably reformed to avoid falling through the roof, though, Taylor slammed her masked forehead down into Sophia's face.

Just for old time's sake. It was important to enjoy the little things.

Sophia stumbled and turned to mist again, pushing off to the left in an attempt to put some space between them. It was futile, though. Taylor followed right behind her.

Fire burned in Taylor's veins, heartbeat thundering in her ears.

This really was so much better than fighting Nobody.

Usually, when she fought, it was just a way to vent her frustrations with the world. An outlet, but nothing more.

Now, she finally had a target who deserved every bit of harm she was willing to dish out, and more. She had any and every tool she could think of to exact her righteous vengeance on the cruel hero who helped make her life hell.

All's fair in love and war, right?

One for Emma, the other for Sophia. It was only fair.

Sophia reformed and hit the top of her remaining crossbow with her opposite hand to reload. The brief moment of corporeality was more than long enough for Taylor to pop after her and take a swing at her knee from behind.

The heavy percussion was music to Taylor's ears, along with Sophia's low grunt of pain.

Sophia pushed off and turned to smoke again. Taylor was already there when she inevitably resolidified, nightstick at the ready.

Taylor could, theoretically, form any number of different weapons. Maybe a taser, or pepper spray.

But really… This was more satisfying.

Everything else faded into the background while Taylor slowly but surely took her enemy apart at the seams.

Sophia was well-trained and vicious, but she was virtually helpless against the persistent, unstoppable onslaught of Taylor's batons. The solid wooden cracks echoed across the rooftop any time she dared to return to physical form.

Sophia might be invulnerable while in her Breaker state, but she either couldn't or wouldn't stay in it forever. The shadow couldn't move, couldn't fight.

Pain flared deep in Taylor's chest as Sophia reformed with a crossbow bolt already shoved through her ribcage, the glass and metal fusing with her bones and ripping apart her organs from within. Apparently, non-lethal tactics went out the window when Sophia was actually hurting.

Taylor just popped, reformed, and hit her again.

The seconds blurred together as they danced, but eventually Sophia stumbled and turned to shadow on the way down, falling through the roof and into the office below.

Running away? Already?

Taylor used to try to walk away, when Sophia and Emma started playing their games.

Sophia wouldn't let her, then.

So Taylor wouldn't let her, now.

Taylor followed her down, appearing on the floor below before her target was even halfway to the floor. Sophia tried to use one arm to brace herself against the carpet as she landed, but a nightstick hit her elbow from the side and knocked her hand out from under her.

Sophia pushed off clumsily, tumbling through the wall and floating down towards the adjacent rooftop several stories below.

Taylor was already there.

Waiting.

How does it feel, Sophia?

Sophia had no choice but to reform to avoid falling straight through the roof, and Taylor hit her again.

And again.

Sophia didn't turn to mist, this time.

Taylor's former tormentor threw a drunken, off balance punch at her face. Taylor let it land on her masked jaw, then stepped in and drove a gloved fist into Sophia's stomach.

Sophia let out a breathless wheeze and tried to tackle her around the middle, but Taylor just popped to the right and kicked Sophia hard in the ribs.

Her enemy collapsed at her feet.

Taylor slowly lowered herself into a crouch next to her. The rooftop was silent except for Sophia's gasping attempts to refill her lungs.

It was a bit sad, really.

By comparison, Taylor's projection was as unaffected as ever. Every pop reset her physical state. She wasn't worn out in the slightest, wasn't injured from any of Sophia's vain attempts to hurt her in kind.

Cold satisfaction burned in the pit of her stomach.

Taylor knew this feeling came at a steep price. The price of not being real, the price of dealing with Nobody's shit, of being vulnerable when she wasn't inhabiting her projection. Part of her also knew it was a bit sadistic, and morally dubious at best.

But, in this moment…

All of that was a price she was more than willing to pay.

She would never be a victim again. Not for Emma, Sophia, or anyone else.

"Do you remember what you told me?" Taylor's low voice held every bit of ice she could muster. "Something along the lines of 'tell anyone, and die'?

Sophia choked out another shallow breath.

"The thing is, I don't actually care what you do, Sophia. You don't matter," Taylor hissed. "But don't forget… I know about all the skeletons in your closet. I'm one of them, after all."

Taylor stood tall and rolled her neck. The sun warmed the dark fabric of her costume.

It really was a beautiful morning.

Sophia stabbed her last remaining crossbow bolt into Taylor's ankle. The sheer audacity of the attack was so surprising that Taylor almost didn't know how to react. Sophia had to know it wouldn't work. For a second, Taylor just stared down at her beaten enemy in disbelief.

Then she flickered, and kicked Sophia in the face.

Honestly.

Some people just didn't know when to stay down.

Fuck, that felt good, though.

"And just a wee bit concerning, from the outside," Nobody commented as they sipped their tea. "Just saying."

They were probably right, for once. She'd unpack that… later.

"Shadow Stalker!" A surprisingly high voice pierced the silence.

Things got very weird, very quickly, after that.

The world around her twisted, blurred as if someone were mixing wet oil paint on a canvas. Taylor's awareness and her connection to Nobody stretched like a rubber band.

Then, even though both she and Nobody hadn't moved, she hit the range limit of her projection and popped involuntarily.

Taylor blinked and reformed next to the short, costumed newcomer suddenly standing beside Sophia.

Ah. Vista. Right.

She should have known that space warping would do strange things to her projection.

Taylor couldn't see most of Vista's face, but at least she seemed even more surprised by this unexpected development than Taylor was. That was neat.

Vista wasn't her target, though, and Taylor had no inclination to fight a child who was probably a decent person under the mask.

Unless all the heroes were like Sophia.

Actually, the rest of the Undersiders were already gone, too. She'd been a bit distracted.

Taylor was still in a very good mood, though, and riding high from knocking Sophia down a peg or two. Literally.

So, instead of whatever vaguely ominous villainous banter she could improvise, she reached out and tapped Vista lightly on the visor with her baton.

"Tag, you're it!"

Then she popped away.

In the Boba shop down the street, Nobody shot tea out of their nose.

"See? I can totally make jokes," Taylor muttered to them as she made for the rendezvous point.

"I never doubted you," Nobody said, soaking up the excess tea with their hoodie and blowing a stray ball of tapioca out of one nostril. "You couldn't have waited until I was done with my drink, though?"

"That's part of the joke."

…

Monday, April 25th, 2011.

Nobody had come to the ultimate conclusion that being human was, in fact, overrated.

Their back hurt from carrying this god-awful torture device Taylor called a backpack. Their feet hurt from these stupid shoes. Sleeping and showering and sweating and eating and just… ugh.

It was highly inconvenient that Taylor hadn't figured out how to swap them back yet. They missed being able to pop.

Even if Taylor was much more pleasant to be around now that she'd worked out some of her anger issues and was feeling slightly less angsty over Emma. Silver linings.

"I'm still not sure about this," Taylor said out loud from her perch on top of the air-conditioning unit on the school roof.

"It was your idea!" Nobody thought in her general direction.

They had collectively decided that it was less risky, overall, for Nobody to attend classes in Taylor's body. That way, on the off chance someone saw Taylor hanging around as their projection, she could just pop away. If Taylor went to school as herself, then Nobody would be stuck hiding somewhere else in Taylor's 'real' body, and that could get a bit dicey if they got reported for truancy or something. Or mugged. Or arrested for trespassing. Whatever.

Better that their 'real' body was where it was supposed to be, so their projection could be out and about. No matter who was controlling who. Not that they'd figured out how to swap yet, but Nobody refused to believe they were stuck like this forever. That would suck.

However, all of that also meant that their 'real' body was currently at risk of suffering an untimely demise in a fit of revenge at the hands of Sophia. And, of course, it meant that Nobody was in the driver's seat at school today.

The second part was more concerning to Taylor, for some reason. Nobody couldn't imagine why.

"Just keep your head down, and we'll figure out how to switch back as soon as possible," Taylor muttered for the third time this morning.

"Sure, sure," Nobody thought, grabbing their tray of barely edible food from the cafeteria line. Michelin star, the Winslow cafeteria was not.

Nobody made a beeline for what they considered to be the perfect table.

"Nobody. Nobody, what are you doing? This isn't the plan-"

"Is this seat open?" Nobody asked.

Emma and Sophia's minions looked up at her with varying degrees of shock and disgust. They didn't really matter, but it was still funny.

Emma, with her magical obsessive sixth-Taylor-sense, just glared bloody murder at them.

As expected.

Sophia, who assumed they were the same Taylor who'd kicked the shit out of her on Saturday, was also glaring at them.

Also expected.

Taylor, on the roof, was also also glaring at them. Metaphorically.

Also also expected.

Nobody had no idea how Taylor hadn't seen this coming. The tee-up was just too enjoyable to resist.

Besides, their last attempt at improv had gone swimmingly. What could possibly go wrong this time?

Well, it probably couldn't go worse, seeing as last time, they'd fallen off a roof, shot themselves in the head with a crossbow, then been ritually mutilated by Taylor's crazy ex-girlfriend.

See? Totally swimmingly.

The dead silence at the table was hilarious.

"Sure, Taylor," Emma said. She was really good at making a sweet voice poisonous.

Luckily, Nobody didn't care.

"Thanks," they chirped, sitting down across from Taylor's evil sorta-maybe-ex.

In Taylor's defense, Emma was absurdly pretty. Like a beautiful, carnivorous flower. But still. They couldn't help but feel like she might not be worth the hassle.

But, for better or worse, Taylor disagreed. Even if she probably wouldn't admit it out loud.

Since Taylor wasn't willing to leave Emma alone, the least she could do was provide them with some entertainment in the meantime. Being stuck in this body was boring, and she was so easy to rile up.

Emma and Taylor both.

The silence continued, and the tension was thick enough to stir with a spoon. It was delicious.

They're all so dramatic.

"So… how was your weekend?" Nobody asked the table at large.

The others looked to Emma. Because of course they did.

"I was hoping for some excitement on Friday night, but my date had to leave early," Emma said with faux calm.

"That's a shame," Nobody replied.

They took a bite of their apple. Probably the only edible thing in the school lunch. Was that supposed to be a burger?

"What about you?" Emma asked. The temperature dropped several degrees.

Nobody let their eyes slide lazily away from the queen bitch. Sophia was studiously ignoring them, but Nobody knew she knew they were looking.

"Friday night was a bust, but Saturday was great. Managed to fit in a good workout and a few hours at the office," Nobody said.

On the roof, Taylor punched the air conditioning unit.

"I heard you got a new job," Emma said lightly. "Good for you."

"Aww, thanks. I heard you were sick over the weekend, Sophia. I'm glad you got better so quickly," Nobody grinned.

Apparently, Madison couldn't take it any more.

"Okay, what the hell is going on? I know you said-"

"Shut up, Mads," Emma hissed. "I said I'd handle it."

Madison Clements was the third member to round out Emma's inner circle of sadists, after Sophia and Emma herself. Tiny even compared to the other girls at the table, with straight brown hair tucked back over her ears. She wasn't as acidic as Emma, or as rough as Sophia, but she was good at being manipulative when she wanted to be. 

"Yeah, Mads," Nobody did their best to mimic Emma's polished, venomous tone. They mostly succeeded. "After all, Emma said I could sit here anytime I want."

The look on Emma's face was priceless. She'd probably look less surprised and insulted if they'd slapped her. Nobody wished they had a camera. If they could still pop, they would have made one.

"I hate you… so much," Taylor grumbled from the rooftop. It showed just how far she'd come that she was only grumbling and not threatening their life.

Progress!

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Taylor?" Emma asked through clenched teeth. "Alone?"

Excellent, the facade was finally breaking down. This was the most fun they'd had in… well, probably ever. They hadn't been alive all that long.

"Sure!"

Nobody and Emma both stood up. The table of sycophants' uneasy silence continued to be highly entertaining.

Nobody grabbed their apple. The rest was a lost cause, anyway.

"Mads, be a dear and throw that away for me. Or eat it. Lord knows you need it," Nobody tossed over their shoulder with a wave.

They weren't even sure what about Madison they were insulting with that one, but it sounded good.

"Oh God… Why are you like this?" Taylor groaned.

"All's fair in love and war, right?" Nobody thought as they followed Emma out of the cafeteria.

"This is neither!"

"Semantics."

"Want to chat on the roof?" Nobody suggested as innocently as they could.

Emma didn't answer, but she did make a beeline for the access stairs.

The heavy exterior door banged loudly as Emma strode through it. Nobody trailed along with a wide grin.

The familiar rooftop was totally, definitely empty. It was so nostalgic.

Emma spun as soon as the door closed behind them. With surprising speed, she pushed them against the metal door and pressed the same pocket knife she'd used to carve out their eyes against their throat.

"Who are you, and why are you pretending to be Taylor?" Emma demanded. The cold void stirred behind her eyes again, just like the last time she'd threatened to kill them.

Nostalgia all around!

"Jeez, it's always zero to a hundred with you," Nobody complained. "Edge play isn't necessarily my cup of tea, but I might be willing to make an exception-"

Taylor popped into existence behind Emma, already reaching to grab both Emma's hand and the knife. The blade slid straight into her palm and out the other side, but Taylor didn't even flinch. Nobody was so proud.

It was the least she could do for them after they'd died to Lung fifty-three times for her.

Okay, it probably wasn't that many, but it's the thought that counts. Plus, being burned alive really hurt.

With a rough tug, Taylor wrenched Emma away from Nobody and crushed her backwards into her chest. Emma's arm holding the knife was pulled tight across her body, holding her firmly in place with her back to Taylor.

Emma looked panicked about this turn of events for exactly half a second before her weird super-Taylor senses kicked in. Her face immediately switched to blushing excitement, and Nobody had to resist the urge to roll their eyes.

See? They were both so easy to rile up.

Nobody idly wondered if Taylor even noticed her other arm automatically wrapping around Emma's waist.

Probably not.

Nobody took another bite of their apple.

Anyone who actually says red delicious apples taste good is objectively wrong. It was fitting that Winslow even had the shittiest kind of apples.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Taylor growled. Nobody wasn't sure if she was talking to them or Emma.

Before Nobody could answer, a familiar shadow rocketed through the… floor? roof? Ceiling? Whatever. Sophia reformed with one crossbow pointing at Taylor and the other aimed directly at them.

Blackwell let her keep those at school?

Probably not.

"Let her go-" Sophia started.

Nobody stopped listening after that, mainly because they heard footsteps approaching from the stairwell. They helpfully moved away from the door to lean against the bricks next to it.

The roof access flew open, and Madison stumbled through.

Nobody watched with glee as Madison's eyes bounced wildly around the unfolding chaos.

Nobody, wearing Taylor's 'real' body, casually leaning against the wall eating an apple. Cool as a cucumber.

Taylor, piloting their projection while wearing her own face, holding Emma tightly in her arms with a pocket knife stabbed clean through one hand. Blood leaked down both of their arms and generally made even more of a mess of things.

Emma, locked in the cage of Taylor's arms, blood soaking into her sleeve, and looking entirely too pleased with herself.

Sophia, standing between them, one crossbow pointed at both of Taylor's faces.

Nobody couldn't possibly have planned this better if they'd tried. Improv, baby!

"Oh, what the actual fuck, guys?" Madison groaned.

…

Friday, April 22nd, 2011.

Taylor popped into existence and leaned against the kitchen counter just in time to see Nobody collapse dramatically onto one of the sofas in the Undersiders' loft. And, if their head just happened to land in Lisa's lap, that was purely coincidence.

"Oh God, I'm dying. Please, most generous and brilliant soothsayer, free us from this horrific fate," Nobody moaned.

"You know I have to live like that all the time, right? I know you remember, you can't exactly bullshit me," Taylor said.

"The sweat... The heat… The stairs! It's awful. Just put us out of our misery already."

"You can't make jokes like that anymore," Taylor frowned. "Seeing as you can actually die now, and you'll take me down with you."

Lisa looked back and forth between them with steadily increasing incredulity.

"How?" Lisa demanded. Despite Taylor's expectations, she didn't laugh. Yet. For now, she seemed more focused on some mix of surprise and mild horror.

"Taylor's ex… friend? Girlfriend? Bully? Obsessed demon bae? I dunno. Not important. Taylor's Emma got her so mixed up in our head that she accidentally-on-purpose took control of the projection and put me in charge of her body in the meantime. Totally cool, whatever, I can handle being a real girl every now and then, but now we don't know how to switch back," Nobody summarized before Taylor could get a word in.

"I already know the answer, but I need to say this out loud. This is the same girl who helped Shadow Stalker hide your body and cut out your eyes to make it look like an ABB initiation?" Lisa said flatly.

Nobody just looked over at Taylor. Of course they weren't going to answer this time.

"Yeah, that's her," Taylor sighed.

"Cool. Sweet. The 'already knowing' thing is going to remain a theme here," Lisa continued undeterred. "But why, for the love of God, did you go to her house?"

"She's been acting weird, and I just…" Taylor trailed off. Hopefully Lisa's power would fill in the gaps.

"No, no, we're doing this out loud for a reason. I need you to say it," Lisa glared over the back of the couch at her. She still hadn't ousted Nobody from her lap, which might have been a personal record for them.

The feelings that Taylor had unceremoniously shoved into the pit earlier threatened to make a reappearance. She popped and reformed in hopes that doing so would make them go away. Sadly, it did not.

"I… look, it's hard to explain, but… there's a lot of stuff, between Emma and I, and I don't… I can't just walk away from her," Taylor said eventually.

"Emmi and Tay-Tay sitting in a-" Nobody sang under their breath.

Lisa pinched their lips shut before Taylor could strangle them.

"In other news, being stuck in my body doesn't make them any less insufferable," Taylor ground out.

Now it was Lisa's turn to sigh.

"Shocking. Okay, if you want my help with your brain-fuckery, I'm going to have to pick at the… everything… you have going on with that pretty little nutcase. Is that fair?"

"Don't call her that," Taylor snapped without thinking. She might be allowed to call Emma crazy, but hearing it from Lisa felt…

She'd unpack that later.

"Sure you will, sweetie," Lisa said. "Look, powers are weird, and Thinker powers are weirder than most. Any parahuman abilities that mess with your mind are bound to cause unexpected complications. I mean, yours apparently generated an entirely independent personality matrix. For better or worse, we all know that Nobody isn't just a copy of you."

"I vote 'better'," Nobody's voice was muffled because Lisa was still holding their lips between her fingers.

Taylor blinked as her train of thought was briefly derailed.

Were they Nobody's lips or Taylor's lips? How the hell did they even specify, anymore?

Until they managed to switch back, she was just going to call that body Nobody's body. It was easier that way.

Although, in some ways, it was really both of their body. Especially if they figured out how to switch back and forth. One real body, one projection. One Taylor, and one Nobody. If they weren't necessarily tied to one or the other, did either really belong to her?

It was enough to make her head spin. Taylor decided to stop thinking about it.

"No, you've got the right idea," Lisa chimed in. Damn psychics. "There are clearly shared portions of your collective subconscious, but for all intents and purposes, you're two different people. Compartmentalizing and understanding what's 'you' and what's not is probably important to figuring out how to consciously utilize the Thinker aspects of your power. The more that both of you are able to divest your awareness from the body you're inhabiting, the better you'll be able to move between them."

"That's… easier said than done," Taylor said.

"I didn't say it'd be easy. More like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach while playing Pachelbel's Canon on the harmonica," Lisa grinned crookedly over the back of the couch. "Now, as for your totally well-adjusted and normal not-crush… did she say why she decided to fuck up your life in the first place?"

Taylor didn't want to talk about that.

But, if anyone could make Emma's bullshit make sense, it was probably Lisa.

Maybe.

Well, she probably couldn't make it worse.

"When I was dead… Well, when Nobody was dead and pretending to be me, Emma said she loved me. Them. Whatever. Then, this afternoon…" Taylor took a deep breath. "She said we… that I wasn't right for her, back before, and she… did everything she did, so we could fit, again? It's fucked up, but…"

Taylor couldn't bring herself to say that it made a sick sort of sense, in hindsight. Emma somehow, impossibly, wanted her, but not the version of her from before camp. Whatever it was Emma wanted, she thought that Taylor could give it to her, as she was now. Like shattering a pane of glass to make a stained glass window.

Lisa ran a hand over her face and groaned inarticulately. She let go of Nobody's mouth to do this, but they seemed content with the fact that she'd forgotten to kick them off her lap.

"Okay… Fuck. I hate my power sometimes. Right," Lisa opened her eyes and turned back to Taylor. "Your girlfriend has issues. And I don't mean that in an insulting way, it's just a statement of fact that you're going to have to deal with if you don't do the obviously beneficial thing and leave her the hell alone. Weirdly enough, I think she'd actually let you, at this point. Everything she's done is banking on the underlying fact that you'll still love her no matter what, and she's in too deep to turn back now. She did her part to turn you into who you are, and, now that she's satisfied with her creation, she's putting the ball in your court."

Taylor gripped the side of the counter hard enough to turn her knuckles white. Luckily for the cheap laminate, her projection only had normal human strength.

"So… I really can't win, can I? I'm always going to be doing what she wants," Taylor said. She'd realized as much in Emma's bedroom, but she felt the need to say it out loud.

"It's not about winning. There is no winner, no matter what you do," Lisa said frankly. "Either you stop talking to her, ignore her, and get on with your life, or you don't. I would recommend the former, but… Look, you already know you can't get back exactly what you had. Neither of you exist anymore, not as you were. Whatever happened with the ABB messed with Emma's head, and then she turned right around and messed with yours. Only you can decide if you want her as she is now. Like she said, she can't be fixed, so don't go into it hoping for that."

Taylor closed her eyes and took another deep breath in an attempt to quiet the screams of frustration threatening to burst out of her chest.

"How can I ever trust her again?" Taylor whispered.

"I don't know if you can. There might be other stuff buried in there somewhere, but she's undeniably a selfish person with a cruel streak a mile wide, and willing to do basically anything to get what she wants. Ironically, all of that is currently working in your favor. She wants you to love her enough to come back on your own, even though you hate her. Especially because you hate her. It's fucked up, but… well, what did you expect?" Lisa shrugged.

None of that helped loosen the knot in Taylor's stomach.

She should just get out now, and be done with this whole mess. Maybe, if she walked away, the love and pain and everything that Emma was to her would eventually fade enough that she could survive without thinking about her every fucking day.

It would be better, that way.

So why did that future feel so fucking empty?

Taylor resisted the urge to slam her head into the counter.

Then she remembered that she was piloting an unkillable projection, and slammed her head into the counter as hard as she could.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. It did make Nobody laugh, at least.

Taylor popped and reformed, minus the brain damage.

"Don't break my house," Lisa said tiredly.

The same implacable energy from earlier was still bouncing through Taylor's bones, refusing to let her rest or slow down while so many thoughts were bouncing around in her head.

"Come on, Nobody," Taylor said. "Let's spar and see if I can't figure out how to undo this psychic bullshit."

She couldn't handle talking about Emma any more. Today had been… a lot.

"Hey, aren't I supposed to be the boss now that I'm piloting our actual body?" Nobody complained.

"No."

Lisa laughed. Nobody hopped over the back of the couch and rummaged through Brian's equipment for the spare set of nightsticks.

"Fine, fine. You don't have to be such a bitch about it, though," they muttered.

"Rachel isn't even here," Taylor replied distantly.

Nobody and Lisa both froze, staring at her.

"Holy fuck…" Nobody said breathlessly. "Was that… a joke? An actual joke? Lisa, quick, punch me in the face!"

Taylor snorted despite herself.

"Please don't punch us," she said.

"Unlike some people, I don't really like breaking my knuckles on other people's faces," Lisa chuckled and settled back into her corner of the couch.

Taylor popped again and reformed with her batons at the ready. She and Nobody took their positions on the mat.

The routine warm up was nice, although it was weird to know that she could reform at any time. That everything was temporary.

One, two, three, four.

The metronome beat of their nightsticks was soothing, even if it didn't bring her any closer to figuring out how she'd taken control of their projection in the first place.

One, two, three, four.

Like Lisa said, Taylor knew she should just be happy that Emma was willing to leave her alone and be done with it.

But she wasn't happy with that. Wasn't satisfied with that.

What was the point of denying it? Who was she hurting except herself?

Maybe she did want Emma to leave her alone.

But…

The undeniable truth was…

At the end of the day, Taylor just couldn't bring herself to leave Emma alone.

…

Notes:

I can't help but enjoy the tonal whiplash in this chapter. Nobody is such a force of chaos. Taylor is working out some issues. Emma is still Emma. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is stealing your mail. But, like, only the coupons and the occasional postcard.

Chapter 10: Surge 2.4

Surge 2.4

Monday, April 25th, 2011.

The irrepressible buzzing in the back of Taylor's mind made it difficult to actually process whatever Madison was saying, but she had bigger things to worry about anyway.

Her hand really fucking hurt, but she couldn't pop yet. Not while she was still holding the knife.

And Emma.

Every part of her touching Emma felt like a live wire. Electricity cauterized her nerves from within as the warmth bounced from her hands to her chest to her hips-

Sophia was pointing a fucking crossbow at Nobody. At their actual body.

What would dying feel like, if Sophia pulled the trigger?

She remembered dying with a bolt in her skull, before. Lying on the grass, looking up at the stars. Would it feel the same, if it were actually real?

For the first time since she ran from Lung, Oni Lee, and Armsmaster, Taylor found herself frozen with indecision. Her real body was in danger. Emma was in danger, although only of being collateral if the violence in the air exploded.

She didn't have time.

"I told you I'd handle-" Emma started.

"Fuck off, Madison-" Sophia said at the same time.

Taylor pushed the overwhelming tide of conflicting emotions into the pit and focused. She and Nobody could end, together, at any second.

At least it would be Nobody's fault.

"We need to keep them talking," Taylor thought frantically in Nobody's direction.

Nobody straightened and took another bite of that fucking apple.

"What? You won't let me smoke cigarettes in our real body. I gotta have something to do with my hands," Nobody thought idly.

Sophia's fingers tightened around the crossbow.

"You really gonna kill me twice, hero?" Nobody sneered derisively. "I seem to remember having to pull the trigger myself last time. You need help, again?"

Taylor's heart thundered in her chest. Emma squirmed slightly against her, which was extremely fucking distracting and she absolutely did not have time to unpack that right now.

"That is NOT what I had in mind! What the fuck, Nobody? You know we both die if-"

"I know, I know, but you know what they say about broken eggs and omelets," Nobody shrugged internally. Outwardly, their eyes remained cold and unconcerned.

"That doesn't apply here!" Taylor shoved the panic into the pit with everything else.

"You what?" Madison exclaimed.

"It's not what it sounds like-" Sophia glared between Nobody and Taylor.

"Performance anxiety is totally normal, you know," Nobody continued. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

"God dammit," Taylor raged internally, desperately working through every possible option to get out of this ridiculous situation intact. She could try to pop over, but she might not be able to get both crossbows out of the way before Sophia could pull the trigger. Plus, a rogue bolt might hit Emma or Nobody even if she did.

"Sophia, don't-" Emma tried again.

"This one isn't Taylor, right?" Sophia asked, nodding at Nobody. "I might not be able to put them down for good, but I can shut them up for a fucking minute."

Emma could always tell which body was hers. For better or worse, no one knew her like Emma did.

And Emma, apparently, didn't want her to die.

"Nobody, give me control, NOW!"

Taylor caught a strange mix of feelings from their actual body. Frustration, irritation, exasperation.

"You have to let me, remember? Like I did, back in Emma's bedroom."

Time seemed to slow, in this mental not-space between them. Their memories and minds connected in a constantly turning wheel.

One body. One projection.

One Taylor. One Nobody.

"What do you mean?" Taylor thought.

"I can't take control of our projection if you don't want me to, dumbass. It's a two way street. Is it so hard to believe that I trust you? It was easy to let you take the wheel when you demanded it."

"I don't-" Taylor floundered internally.

"But noooo, you just can't give up your precious control, can you?" Nobody's mental voice was suddenly sharp. "Can't actually trust me for a single fucking second."

"Can you blame me?" Taylor yelled within her own mind.

"An art form, like I said," Nobody sighed. "If you aren't satisfied, fucking do something about it! Don't just sit there and blame me like it will make you feel any better."

Taylor wanted to scream.

Their minds were close, memories spiraling between them in an infinite chain.

Trapped in the dark, cramped metal box, absolutely certain that no one would ever help. That no one would care.

Until somebody did.

Until Nobody did.

Dying a death of a thousand cuts, slowly but surely being ground into ashes.

Until somebody lit a fire within her.

Until Nobody did.

Never being enough. Never strong enough, alone.

Until she was. Until they were.

"But, if you can't bring yourself to do what needs to be done… then let go of the fucking wheel. And, just this once, I promise I won't fuck it up."

Taylor could almost see Nobody's crooked, overconfident grin in their minds' eye.

Part of her still wanted to pop and try to solve everything herself. Maybe she could cut the crossbow string before Sophia could pull the trigger, maybe-

Taylor closed her eyes and tried to drift away.

Everything was too heavy, and she was drowning. It was just… too much. Too many weights around her neck.

Emma, and her betrayal and supposed love. Sophia, and the power she'd held over her for so long. Madison was just icing on the shitty cake.

Taylor felt… stretched.

Not being real was wearing on her. In hindsight, she shouldn't have gone so far with Sophia, on Saturday. It was just so… easy, to slip, when nothing felt real. When the world was made of cheap tissue paper.

So… Maybe, just this once, it would be alright if someone else handled things.

If Nobody did.

"Okay."

"Say 'please'."

"Fuck you."

Nobody grinned and tossed the half-eaten apple towards her.

"Good enough," they thought.

Nobody's determination hardened into cold steel within them and the world suddenly spiraled around her, their power wrenching the metaphorical wheel out of her hands and forcing her back into her original prison of vulnerable flesh.

Taylor blinked.

Sophia's crossbow was suddenly much closer to her face than it used to be.

Her eyes flicked automatically over to where Nobody now stood behind Emma.

Nobody let go of Emma's waist, snagged the falling apple out of the air, and took another bite.

Taylor barely registered that, though. Her eyes were drawn to the inevitable green fire like a magnet, and Emma stiffened in a sudden panic.

"Don't shoot! That's Taylor!" Emma snapped.

"I don't know why you're so pissed, Sophia," Nobody said. "Emma's the one who stabbed us. All because of a little sass. So touchy."

They pulled the knife from Emma's hand and handed her the apple.

"Hold onto this for me, would you?" They snarked.

Then they disappeared.

Sophia took her eyes off Taylor for a split second, looking around in a vain attempt to track Nobody.

Their projection reappeared directly in front of Sophia, arms already outstretched to either side. Nobody grabbed both crossbows before Sophia could react and brought them together in front of them, deftly aiming both weapons at their own chest.

Then they pulled both triggers.

"Just like old times," Nobody commented internally as the crossbow bolts lodged in their ribs. "Nostalgia for everyone!"

They flickered again and appeared leaning casually on the wall beside Taylor.

Holding a lit cigarette in one hand and a fucking grenade in the other.

"Why don't we all just take a chill-pill, real quick," Nobody waved the grenade in Sophia's general direction. "Your enthusiasm is entertaining, but this isn't the time or the place."

"This whole situation is your fault!" Taylor reminded them.

"I would argue it's at least forty-six percent Emma's fault," Nobody thought.

They took a long, happy drag of their cigarette.

Because of course they did.

"Ahhh… that's the stuff," Nobody smiled wide, gray mist leaking from between their teeth.

"Wha…" Madison still hadn't recovered.

Sophia's eyes bounced rapidly between Taylor, Nobody, and the grenade.

Mutually assured destruction wasn't necessarily the best bluff, but it was effective. Sophia would survive the blast, but Madison, Emma, and Taylor would be toast. Of course, Sophia didn't know that killing Taylor would kill Nobody, too.

Taylor's head hurt.

"I hate you so much," Taylor muttered to her unruly projection. Or, the unruly consciousness currently piloting their shared projection. Whatever.

"Naw, you don't," Nobody said.

"Taylor… I-" Emma looked lost.

Ice-cold anger burned in Taylor's gut.

There was still just so much, a conflicting hurricane of barely identifiable emotions tied to everyone on this fucking rooftop.

And Emma was the eye of the storm. As always.

Taylor couldn't stop herself. She was back in their real body again, but it wasn't enough.

She stalked over and kicked the knife far away from Emma before grabbing her former tormentor roughly by the hair.

Taylor saw Sophia tense out of the corner of her eye, but the unmasked cape didn't make a move. Yet.

Good.

"I'd ask what the fuck is wrong with you, but I don't have all day," Taylor hissed, forcing Emma's head back and glaring down at her.

Emma's face was still flushed, and the emerald fire was back in spades.

Taylor hated what seeing that look in Emma's eyes did to her. It wasn't fucking fair.

But she couldn't, wouldn't let her go, either.

Frozen flames fueled by the churning storm in the pit consumed her.

"If you ever, ever, threaten us again, I will make you wish I just put an arrow in your brain," Taylor continued. "I don't care if it's a gun, or a knife, or a fucking crossbow. Next time you point something like that at us out of costume, I'll make carving out our eyes look like child's play by the time I'm done with you."

"Did that sound less dark in your head or something?" Nobody thought.

Taylor ignored them.

Emma just fucking smiled.

Anytime you want, Tay.

Why was that smile so fucking tempting? What the hell was wrong with her?

I hated your smile, that day.

Taylor really, really didn't want to understand, but… she kind of did. She hated Emma's smile. Wanted to rip it off her perfect face, wanted to feel it pressed against her own, wanted-

We didn't fit, anymore.

"Promise?" Emma asked softly.

Taylor's grip tightened involuntarily, muscles and tendons straining and tugging soft red strands from the roots. The force pulled Emma even closer without thinking, and a warm gasp hissed between Emma's teeth.

"Holy shit," Madison said from somewhere behind her. Taylor had lost track.

"I know, right?" Nobody replied dryly.

The embers in Taylor's stomach burned white hot and she threw Emma bodily away from her. Anything to get this poison out from under her skin.

The shove sent her… whatever Emma was to her… stumbling across the roof. Sophia caught her automatically, glaring over Emma's head at Taylor and Nobody. Surprisingly, there was some calculating appraisal under the anger. Together, they warranted Sophia's caution, at least.

How much had Sophia put together?

Part of her still wanted to fight. She could remember feeling Sophia's breath leaving her body, under her boot.

That… probably wasn't a good thing.

Hot air filled Taylor's lungs as she forced herself to just… breathe, for a moment. The violence and adrenaline slowly settled into a steady rhythm rather than the previously uncontrolled cacophony.

Emma pushed the mess of tangled hair out of her face and looked up at her.

Fuck.

She was so fucking beautiful. It wasn't fair.

She should just walk away.

"I'll find you, later, to talk. Alone," Taylor's words were strained through her clenched teeth, but Emma would get the message. "Until then, stay the fuck away from us."

"You know where I'll be," Emma said easily.

"Have they always been like this, and I just never noticed?" Madison whispered.

"Naw. Tay's been working up to it for a while," Nobody confided conspiratorially.

"Don't call me that," Taylor glared over at them.

"Sorry."

"Y'know, I'm still confused by the whole…" Madison gestured between Taylor and Nobody.

As if Madison deserved any answers, after all the shit she pulled in the last year.

Not that Emma deserved anything, either, but… well, Taylor had been through too much bullshit to deny herself anything she wanted, at this point.

And the part of her that wanted Emma was winning.

It hadn't ever been a fair fight, really.

"Then keep being confused," Taylor let the ice leak back into her tone. "The same warning applies to you. Tell anyone, and all three of you will wish we put you out of your misery here and now."

"Going a bit far on that one, aren't you?" Nobody thought with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, I know they're assholes, but last month you didn't even want to prank them back, and now we're jumping straight to torture?"

"I wouldn't actually…"

Taylor trailed off. Maybe she was going too far… but what choice did she have?

"What, I don't get a side of kinky hair-pulling with my death threats? Lame," Madison deadpanned. "But yeah, sure, whatever. I'm not a fucking idiot. I know better than to fuck with capes."

"I can pull your hair if you ask nicely," Nobody offered.

"Not the same if I have to ask," Madison sighed.

Taylor blinked and looked between them incredulously.

"Hey, Nobody? What the fuck?" she thought.

"Sorry. Sometimes, I open my mouth, and things fall out without prior authorization, okay? Besides, you have exactly zero room to talk."

Taylor took another deep breath. She just… couldn't handle any more of this crap, right now.

"Oh," Nobody snapped their fingers suddenly, "I should probably mention that if the vague promises of terrible pain and retribution aren't doing it for you, we also have an automated system set up to send a comprehensive record of your less than savory actions to the PRT if we suddenly suffer an untimely demise."

"We do?" Taylor asked.

"Of course not, but your threats are so edgy we might cut ourselves. A bit of pragmatism never hurt."

"Who are you and what have you done with Nobody?" Taylor snorted internally.

"You can't prove shit," Sophia snapped.

"Not in court, but it'll make them start looking closer. Let's not get too over-excited out of costume, hmmm?" Nobody hummed, idly tossing their grenade.

Sophia didn't answer. Her expression was laser-focused, still looking for an opening, but she also seemed less tightly wound than before.

Maybe, this sorta-truce at school could work. Sophia didn't know the true nature of Nobody's power, Emma didn't actually want her to die, and Madison just seemed amused by the entire affair.

Speaking of which, she'd almost forgotten the whole mess from the cafeteria. That ridiculousness was going to follow her around until the next big thing that distracted the general student body. Joy.

"I'm still not happy with you," Taylor thought.

Remembering Nobody's conscious thoughts in real time was becoming second nature at this point. It was easy, compared to switching bodies.

"You would have tip-toed around the Emma issue for weeks if I hadn't. You know you already decided not to leave her alone like Lisa suggested, so why not?" Nobody took another drag of their cigarette. Taylor could tell they'd been missing their unpleasant habit while stuck in their real body. The body that could, like, actually get cancer and shit.

Taylor wasn't sure when 'her' real body had become 'their' real body, but it didn't matter. They were both stuck with each other, for better or worse.

"I think better, for the record," Nobody grinned. "And not just because I enjoy existing."

Taylor wasn't sure how to feel about that, so she ignored it.

"I'll need to borrow the projection again, tonight. I don't trust Emma or Sophia not to pull something, after this," Taylor thought.

"Fine, but I'm charging rent."

"It's not yours to-"

"Too bad. We're taking the motorcycle to Emma's, and that's final."

That was… not the worst thing they could have asked for.

Taylor sighed.

Then, with one last glance over at Sophia and Emma, she turned on her heel and left the awkward silence on the rooftop behind.

…

Monday, April 25th, 2011.

Taylor flicked her foot up to drop into fifth gear and sped down the mostly empty highway in the late afternoon sun.

Her father would definitely kill her if he ever found out about Nobody's favorite toy. He'd probably be more mad about this than the whole villain thing, actually.

It wasn't the same, to her, for some reason. It wasn't like Mom had been driving a motorcycle when she died.

Would her dad yell at her corpse the same way, if her actions ever finally caught up with her? Would he actually care?

It wasn't strictly necessary to take the highway to Emma's house, but it was more fun and she wasn't in a hurry.

"I know you know I meant I would be the one driving," Nobody pouted from a nearby rooftop.

"You should have specified, then," Taylor grinned behind the helmet. "Don't tell me you're bored of piloting our projection already?"

Nobody didn't answer, but Taylor could feel their mild irritation.

She still wasn't happy with them, but…

It was tiring, to stay mad at herself. Or whatever Nobody was.

"We don't have a sidecar, but you can ride behind me if you're bored," Taylor thought.

Nobody perked up immediately. It was almost… cute. She never really bothered to appreciate their irrepressible enthusiasm for everything.

"Hell yeah. We should probably practice this anyway," Nobody focused on Taylor's memories, the exact position of her body and the speed she was currently traveling. "Incoming. Don't crash."

Taylor snorted.

"I'll do my best."

Nobody popped and reformed on the bike behind her.

Moving vehicles did strange things to their projection. They always appeared traveling or accelerating at the same speed as the surface they landed on. Taylor assumed that their power did some kind of unconscious heavy lifting to calculate the necessary trajectory, the same reason the Earth's rotation didn't fling them into space or whatever.

Nobody never bothered to think about it at all. According to them, ignorance was bliss.

"Put on a helmet," Taylor reminded them.

"It's not the same! Also, I'm invincible, remember?" Nobody focused on the pleasant memory of the wind whipping their hair behind them.

"Yes, I know, but it would be a pain in the ass to get pulled over right now. Lisa's fake documents look good, but I'd rather not put them to the test," Taylor thought.

"Spoilsport."

Nobody reformed with a matching black helmet a moment later.

"I thought you were going to be the responsible one, now? Wasn't that the point of your whole speech earlier?" Taylor grumbled.

"Oh please," Nobody snorted internally. "I just didn't want our actual body to get shot, and you were too busy being distracted by your girlfriend's ass-"

"Never mind, I'm sorry I asked. I really should know better," Taylor sighed.

Still, Taylor felt some of the jittery anxiety from the day finally start to leak out of her. The sun and Nobody warmed her back under her jacket as the uneven pavement flew by beneath them.

She flicked her foot again and dropped into sixth. Nobody whooped under their helmet as they shot forward and cut between two of the sparsely spread cars.

It was… well, not easy, but possible, to let her worries slip away when they drove like this. There was just enough for her to focus on that her mind couldn't wander too far. Couldn't get lost.

Couldn't focus too hard on their destination.

One problem at a time.

In the meantime…

Maybe it was okay, that things were actually kind of okay, for once. She'd figure out Emma's bullshit eventually. She'd figure out what she wanted from the Undersiders. She'd figure out how to live with Nobody, since they clearly weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

And, maybe, that would be enough.

…

Monday, April 25th, 2011.

"So, I know that, like, remembering things isn't the same as experiencing them…" Nobody trailed off, leaning against a tree in the familiar park down the street from Emma's house.

Taylor paused in the act of packing away her actual, real helmet. Nobody had just popped theirs away into the ether.

Trying to think about how they were able to create… everything… made her head hurt, so she stopped bothering. She had enough errant thoughts buzzing around in her skull as it was.

Memories may not be the same as live experiences, but Taylor had enough practice reading Nobody's mind to pick up the general direction of their thoughts.

"You don't love her," Taylor observed.

"No. I remember what it felt like… but it wasn't me. I think… some things have to be lived, to stick like that," Nobody said quietly.

"That's… good, I guess? Maybe?" Taylor shrugged. "Things would get complicated pretty quickly, otherwise."

"I'll still remember," Nobody pointed out. "This is going to get weirder before it gets better. Just, y'know, stating the obvious in case you were doing your normal thing and burying anything you don't want to think about."

"You're not going to tell me this is a shitty idea?" Taylor asked.

"No," Nobody answered with unusual severity. "I might only have the memories, but… no. Nobody else will understand, but I get it, I think."

Taylor couldn't help but smile. The expression felt strange on her face.

"I guess it's a good thing somebody does, then," Taylor said.

Nobody snorted.

"No, no, you're not getting off that easy. You're still a terrible mother."

"So ungrateful. I raised you better than this," Taylor shot back.

"You literally didn't."

"Yeah, I know."

She wasn't going to apologize. Nobody was still a little shit.

Most of the time.

But, considering they knew everything about her… they could be a lot worse.

"Ready?" She asked.

"I feel the need to point out that you were just thinking about how the projection's invulnerability enables your worst impulses, like, this morning," Nobody said.

Taylor had been studiously not thinking about that part. Damn them.

"I'll go for real… next time. I have to have one conversation with her that doesn't go to shit before I decide," Taylor said.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I will, thanks," Taylor replied dryly.

Then she reached within them, and took control of their shared projection.

Suddenly, she was looking back at herself from under the tree, instead of leaning against the bike.

"Easier every time," Nobody said, stretching their real hands experimentally.

"Yeah," Taylor said absently.

She took a deep breath, and popped before she could think about this too hard.

Taylor reformed in the all-too-familiar bedroom.

Just like before, everything was the same, yet… not. The stuffed animals, the quilts, the mess, the disorganized and overflowing closet…

Emma jumped slightly at her sudden, silent appearance, but at least she didn't pull a gun on her this time.

Emma looked strangely… soft, in an oversized long sleeve T-shirt and leggings. Taylor had only seen her in her school outfits for the last year and a half.

It was quiet for an awkwardly long time. Emma eventually moved to extricate herself from the nest of other soft things and stood to face her. She was still half a head shorter than Taylor, her pale face tilting up to meet her eyes in the warm light of the lamp on the bedside table.

Taylor resolved to keep some space between them, this time. She needed to keep a level head for once. The fire that radiated off Emma in waves always drove her to pull stupid shit. Shit that ended with her throwing up in the park.

Emma broke the silence first.

"I feel like teleporting should make a sound. Just appearing out of nowhere is creepy," Emma said.

Taylor snorted despite herself.

"Creepy's one word for it," Taylor said. "We call it 'popping', but I guess it's not, really."

"We?" Emma asked.

Taylor stared at her for another long moment, deliberating just how much to tell her. She'd intended to decide on the way over here, but she never got around to it.

She still didn't trust Emma, but her pointless threats were getting annoying.

"Nobody and I. You know, the one you keep threatening?" Taylor said.

"Right," Emma said slowly. "So, are you going to explain any of that? I was worried when I saw them pretending to be you, today."

"Worried. Ha, yeah, that's funny," Taylor scoffed.

"It kinda is, isn't it?" Emma's lips tugged up at the corner, and Taylor's heart stuttered unsteadily.

Stop that.

Emma didn't deserve that kind of reaction. She also didn't deserve an explanation.

The silence was awkward.

"I can't trust you," Taylor finally said. "I don't know if I ever will."

"I know. You probably shouldn't," Emma replied, like it was a totally normal observation.

Damn her.

Emma still tied her up into knots so easily. How could she be… like this? So… okay with what she did, while she looked at Taylor like that?

"Whatever this is…" Taylor said slowly, weighing her words as well as she could when her brain was overheating. "Nostalgia isn't enough. Not after everything you've done."

"Are you sure? You're here, aren't you?" Emma asked. Her eyes never left Taylor's own. It was very distracting. "What? You want me to say sorry, or something? Grovel and beg for your forgiveness? Get up and announce your virtues in front of the whole school and tell everyone to be nice to poor Taylor?"

There used to be a time when Taylor would have wanted nothing more. Now… no, she didn't. If Emma tried any of that, she might actually punch her.

"Are you? Sorry, I mean?" Taylor demanded instead.

"No."

Of course she wasn't. Why would she be? Emma was getting exactly what she fucking wanted. Taylor pushed the resentment and hate down into the pit with everything else.

"Didn't think so," Taylor said. "So, what? Are you just… done fucking with me, then?"

Well, in a manner of speaking. There were other kinds of-

"I don't know, am I?" Emma's grin darkened, a new edge added underneath her facade.

Emma definitely wasn't sorry.

Fuck.

"I hate you," Taylor couldn't resist reminding her. Even though it was apparently what Emma wanted.

"I know," Emma said simply. Just like last time.

When had she gotten so close? Had they been moving? Had it been Taylor, or her?

"I'm going to sit where I want, at school," Taylor said. It sounded a bit stupid and petty, but she needed to test Emma's supposed change of heart. Was this all just another trick? Get her hopes up just to shove her back into the dirt again?

"Okay," Emma said.

"I'm going to show up to see you, when I want, outside of school."

Emma's eyes glowed mischievously.

"You mean when you're not running around robbing banks and beating up poor, innocent heroes?" she asked casually.

Right. Sophia had told her about that. Still, Taylor wasn't going to let her get under her skin so easily.

"Yeah," Taylor deadpanned.

"Okay."

Taylor stared down into the jagged shards of emerald. It took far too much of her focus to keep from getting lost. They were less than a foot apart, now, and half of that was their height difference. How had that happened?

They were like magnets. Or stars, orbiting closer and closer with every revolution. Time and pain and longing chaining them together more effectively than any physical tether.

"I'm not… saying yes, to this. To whatever the fuck it is you want from me," Taylor said. She tried to keep an edge in her voice, to hold back the warmth. She wasn't sure if it worked. "But I'm not… not saying yes, either."

Emma leaned even closer. Taylor could feel her words sliding over her cheek.

"What if that isn't enough for me?" Emma breathed.

Her bones were on fire, but Taylor held herself perfectly still. Emma wouldn't get the better of her. Not this time. Regardless of what game they were playing, Emma didn't deserve to win so easily.

"Don't fucking push me, Emma," Taylor hissed, keeping her stare level as she forced herself to hold Emma's gaze without flinching. This should be nothing, compared to fighting Oni Lee or Sophia. She was unkillable, right now. Nothing Emma could do would hurt her.

"Sure. You like being the pushy one, right?" Emma's smile was so fucking gorgeous.

Taylor hated that smile. She loved it. Both sides of the cracked coin burned.

"Fuck you," Taylor's voice was cold, despite the flames licking at her nerves.

The same fire that danced behind Emma's eyes.

"Anytime you want, Tay."

Fuck.

Taylor forced herself not to think about… any of that. The volatile emotions in the pit threatened to overflow, but she forced the lid down even tighter.

"You're such a bitch," Taylor bit out.

"You love me, anyway," Emma replied.

It wasn't fair, and it wasn't a good idea… but fuck, she did. Some things never changed, no matter how much she used to wish they would.

She didn't wish for that anymore. For better or worse.

Still, Emma didn't need to know that. She was smug enough as it was.

"Shut the fuck up," Taylor said, but her own lips were starting to curve up at the edges. She couldn't help herself.

Emma leaned in again.

"Make me," she whispered.

God. Dammit.

If Taylor was playing with fire, Emma was wholeheartedly throwing herself into the blaze and cackling the whole way down.

Her lips were so close. All it would take would be-

Taylor fought back the temptation. Emma didn't deserve it.

Yet.

Fuck.

Part of her wanted to take a step back, to escape from the heat. Not moving felt like holding her hand in an open flame on purpose.

Part of her wanted to shove Emma away, like she had on the roof earlier. Force the venom out of her veins.

Taylor forced herself to stay in control, instead. That's what would let her win.

Even if all of this was Emma's game.

Taylor reached both hands up, slow and steady, and gripped Emma's shoulders. Without rushing or losing her cool, she inexorably moved Emma back until she was at an arm's length.

Even through her t-shirt, touching Emma was like fire.

"You don't deserve it," Taylor said coldly.

For the first time, a strange mix of hurt, resentment, and frustration flared in those endless emerald pools.

Taylor saw the cracks widen, just a bit, and she tried not to enjoy it too much.

"I know," Emma said in a broken whisper.

Good.

Taylor allowed herself one last moment to enjoy the view. To revel in the heat of the embers that remained in her chest.

It was comforting, knowing that she'd be able to feel like this again.

Anytime you want, Tay.

"See you tomorrow," Taylor said.

Neither of them seemed to know how to say goodbye. Didn't want to, really.

"Okay," Emma replied eventually.

Taylor popped away to the park, where Nobody and their bike were waiting.

And she didn't even throw up this time.

…

Notes:

Look at Taylor go, actually figuring some of her stuff out for once. Sort of. Maybe. Nobody is certainly... an influence. Emma is still Emma. Not sure if I want to do an interlude next or jump straight back into school and Undersiders stuff, we'll see. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is unfolding all your towels and refolding them in slightly less aesthetically pleasing ways.

Chapter 11: Surge 2.5

Surge 2.5

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011.

The brakes of the city bus released a sharp blast of air pressure as Taylor stepped down onto the cracked concrete sidewalk outside of Winslow High School. She was already keyed up enough that the noise made her twitch uneasily.

"I mean, it's not like they're going to bite or anything," Nobody said. Taylor could feel their hands thrown casually behind their head where they lounged on the roof of the gymnasium. "Scratch that, actually. Emma seems like she'd be a biter."

Emma hadn't, before, but that didn't mean much. There were lots of things that-

Taylor cut off that train of thought and scowled. For someone who was supposedly on board with her admittedly shitty plan, Nobody sure complained a lot.

"As your wisecracking Jiminy Cricket, it's my privilege to poke fun at your choices, regardless of whether or not I approve," Nobody grinned.

Nobody was switching it up today, apparently. Instead of copying Taylor's face, they wore a sturdy body with dark skin and a perfectly lined fade.

Taylor piloted their actual body. It was still safer to have their flesh and blood body where it was supposed to be, so their projection could move freely. Just in case.

It put Taylor on edge, though. Living in their projection had been… well, not necessarily good for her, but freeing. This felt a bit like crashing back to earth after a week of having wings.

"How do you think I felt? Having to, like, actually sweat? Disgusting," Nobody commented.

"Are you going to do this all day?" Taylor sighed internally.

"Give me something more interesting to watch, then."

Taylor sighed with her actual lungs, and surveyed the courtyard.

The bus stop was on the edge of the street, but there was a separate loop for the parents who actually dropped off their kids. Her father had offered, but Taylor refused. She didn't want him to ask any more awkward questions, just in case.

A familiar BMW pulled up to the curb. Alan should be thankful that Nobody's blood popped with them. At least it hadn't stained his trunk.

A familiar redhead hopped out of the passenger seat.

For a moment, Taylor felt thirteen again, excited and nervous to see her best friend who happened to be the most beautiful, wonderful-

She tried to crush that thought back into the pit, but it wouldn't quite leave this time. Wouldn't die like it should.

Emma wasn't wonderful. She was a fucking monster.

And Taylor's stomach still tightened when she met her eyes.

You don't deserve it.

She couldn't get Emma's expression out of her head. That moment when she'd broken, just a little bit. When the cracks had widened, not in Emma's facade, but in herself.

Taylor hated that look in her eyes. She loved it. She wanted to see it again.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Nothing, darling," Nobody said in a faux fancy accent with an equally faux yawn. "Perfectly normal impulses, I assure you."

Taylor didn't believe them. Agreeing with Nobody was a sure sign that something was about to go horribly wrong.

She started walking across the courtyard anyway.

Her plan was… not exactly fleshed out. Something, something, force Emma to either give up the farce or double down. Nobody approved. Which was, again, a very red flag.

Taylor shoved her hands deep into her pockets and kept walking.

Emma just smiled as she approached. Not the warm, eager smile she'd worn when Taylor put a hole in her bedroom wall, or the dark, twisted expression that leaked through every so often. Something in between. Not quite a facade, but not quite the cracked ruin of a person Taylor knew existed underneath.

Taylor idly wondered if Alan had spackled the hole in the wall, or if Emma had just hung something up to hide it. She hadn't even thought to look last night. She'd have to check when she went back…

Ah. Well, wasn't that just fucked.

Because she was definitely going back. She couldn't even deny it to herself, anymore. And, rather than making her sick, the feeling in her chest felt a lot like excitement.

Shit.

Taylor stopped a few feet away from Emma. Her gang of sycophants hadn't found her yet, and Sophia hadn't ridden with her today.

Zoe waved at them through the window. Taylor ignored her.

The rest of the world didn't matter. It blurred around them. Nothing felt real except for the jagged emeralds and the morning sun glinting off flyaway crimson strands.

"Where's your 'friend'?" Emma asked after a moment.

Taylor couldn't see any reason to lie. She didn't trust Emma, but it wasn't like Emma could do anything to hurt Nobody.

"On the roof, watching. In case you pull a knife on me again," Taylor said coldly. "Or a gun."

Emma pouted. Just a bit.

"That's not fair. I never pulled either on you," she pointed out. "I was going to kill them. Not the same."

Nobody thought that was hilarious. Taylor did not.

"You stabbed me yesterday," Taylor hissed. "You cut out my eyes."

Emma shrugged.

"You threatened to do a whole lot worse. I'd say we're even," Emma said flippantly.

Taylor's blood boiled. How fucking dare-

"Even?" Taylor spat through clenched teeth "Even, after everything you…"

Taylor saw the eager, gleeful fire dancing in Emma's eyes.

She's fucking with me.

Again.

Just in new, interesting ways, apparently.

God. Dammit.

"I meant for stabbing you, specifically," Emma elaborated. "That was kind of your fault, anyway. As for everything else… I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Taylor glared at her, but forced the acid back down out of her veins. Emma was trying to get a rise out of her. All she needed to do was avoid taking the bait.

For now, at least. After school…

She'd burn that bridge when she got to it.

Taylor couldn't think of a comeback that wouldn't play straight into Emma's hands, so she didn't bother. She just stared, allowing herself the opportunity to enjoy the view, waiting for Emma to make the next move. This was Emma's game, and Taylor wasn't going to give her any more easy plays.

"So… is this just… gonna be a thing from now on?" a voice right next to them said.

Taylor's muscles locked down automatically. She was glad to see Emma jump as well. At least she wasn't the only one entranced.

And wasn't that just a lovely fucking thought.

The rest of the world came back into focus.

Madison Clements took a long, intentional sip of her oversized cold brew. It was about as big as her head.

Taylor hadn't technically agreed to Emma's… whatever Emma wanted from her, but she wasn't going to be the one to back down. Especially not at school. Emma had put a lot of work into making Taylor a pariah. Now she could reap what she sowed.

"Yes," Taylor and Emma both said at the same time. With very different inflections.

Fuck.

Nobody cackled on the empty rooftop.

Emma grinned that same infuriating smile, winked at her, then turned sharply on her heel to walk towards the main doors.

Taylor just wished her stomach would stop doing that.

Her scowl deepened, but she followed along anyway. What else was she supposed to do? This wasn't exactly how she thought this would go, but it wasn't… terrible. Emma was still… herself, in some strange, broken way.

And she hadn't stabbed her in the back. Literally or metaphorically. Yet.

Madison fell into step on Emma's other side, and Taylor didn't like the implications one bit. She'd just assumed…

Assumed what? That Emma would cave the moment she had to back up her declarations in public? That Emma's friends would turn on her the moment she showed any weakness?

Taylor saw another familiar face shoving an athletic bag into a locker halfway down the hallway. Her spine stiffened automatically.

Sophia caught sight of them and froze for half a second. Her eyes jumped warily to Taylor's, back to Emma, then back to Taylor.

Then she just… sighed heavily and slammed the locker closed.

"This is what you call 'handling it'?" Sophia said flatly when they got within earshot.

Taylor tried to ignore the obvious eavesdroppers. She didn't like the way more and more students seemed to be eyeing them.

"Yep," Emma smirked. She even popped the 'p' between her lips.

God, she was so fucking sure of herself. Taylor couldn't decide whether to be impressed, or disgusted.

She desperately wanted to wipe that smug, crooked smile off Emma's face, regardless.

Sophia's eyes narrowed as they flicked away from Emma and back to Taylor's.

"Hebert."

"Hess."

And, apparently, that was that.

Taylor felt like she was in an episode of the Twilight Zone.

Emma smiled widely and kept walking.

Sophia fell into step beside them.

"I'm watching," Sophia hissed quietly out of the corner of her mouth. Too quietly for anyone but Emma and maybe Madison to hear. "Fuck around, and I'll put a bolt in your eye."

"How many times do you think Panacea will fix your nose before they decide to just leave it like that?" Taylor whispered back. "Want to try for one more?"

"Good one," Nobody commented.

Taylor could practically hear Sophia's teeth grinding.

"I'll cut your fucking throat next-"

"Save it," Emma interrupted with surprising intensity.

Taylor couldn't tell if this was the facade or the real deal. Emma hadn't been this fiery on the roof yesterday. But who the fuck could tell, with Emma?

Still, Sophia backed down, and Taylor wasn't going to look like the loose cannon next to her. She was the one who demanded they play nice at school in the first place, and…

What the hell is wrong with me?

Madison took another pull of her coffee like it was a cigarette she was trying to choke on.

Taylor came very close to just leaving this whole harebrained scheme behind. She could just go to Emma's house tonight and-

Emma's usual group of mindless minions fell silent as their quartet unsubtly joined the circle.

How the fuck did Emma do that? Taylor had never once been able to just… walk up to a group and join their circle like she belonged. Like they should be happy for her presence.

Taylor could feel their eyes scanning her, standing halfway behind Emma's shoulder, but she refused to fidget. For some unknown, inexplicable reason, Emma wanted her. And the rest of them could go fucking die for all she cared.

Nobody was eating fake popcorn. Taylor ignored them.

She'd intentionally kept her look the same. Dull green hoodie. Loose jeans. The clothes that were supposed to keep her safe from Emma's barbed words, and were easy to clean when she got shit dumped on her. Taylor didn't trust her. Plus, Emma had gone through a lot of trouble to… how had she put it? Make her fit? If she didn't like what she'd created, she could go fuck herself.

"Emma…" Julia was the only one in the group with a backbone, apparently. Or it was just her turn with the brain cell. "What's she doing here?"

A good question. Taylor was still working on the answer to that herself.

Emma just smiled.

She stepped forward casually, not close enough to be overtly threatening, but just close enough to invade Julia's personal space. Taylor gave Julia credit for not stepping back, at least.

"Maybe you should ask her," Emma said. She was so good at making an innocent tone sound venomous. "Say whatever you want to Taylor…"

Taylor couldn't see Emma's eyes, but she could practically feel the waves of heat even from behind her shoulder.

"...but remember, I'm not holding her leash, anymore."

What the fuck, Emma?

Julia's wide eyes darted to hers, along with the rest of the group.

Taylor sneered back automatically. As if these pathetic shits mattered to her. They never had. They couldn't touch her if they tried. Emma was the only one who mattered, and she was…

Oh.

Well, then.

Taylor didn't smile, but it was close.

She saw their expressions shifting as they glanced from her, to Sophia's bored scowl, to Madison's knowing smirk, and back to Emma.

And, rather than looks of derision, disdain, or pity… there was a lot more confusion, with a healthy dose of apprehension.

Of fear.

"You know… this wasn't what I had in mind when I said we needed to do something about them," Nobody said pensively.

Taylor hated it. She loved it. She couldn't fucking decide.

"What did you think would happen, forcing yourself into Emma's group at school?" Nobody asked.

They could find the answer out for themselves if they bothered to look. Lazy fuck.

"Lazy is just another word for efficient," Nobody grinned at the morning sky overhead. They tossed a piece of popcorn high and caught it on their outstretched tongue.

"You started this with your stunt yesterday," Taylor snapped internally.

"You're deflecting," Nobody replied in a mocking, sing-song voice.

Taylor still hated them sometimes.

"I thought she would… I thought…"

Taylor thought Emma would fold. That, despite what Lisa said, some part of Emma's abuse had been performative. A way to build herself up in the eyes of her sycophants.

But it wasn't.

Emma had broken her entirely because she wanted to. Because it served whatever sick game she was playing.

Emma really had done everything because, in her own fucked up way, she wanted her.

And Taylor didn't know if that was better or worse.

She still didn't want an apology, but something about Emma standing here, casually facing down her own little circle of assholes like it was part of her plan all along… It made the moths in Taylor's gut churn pleasantly.

Maybe Emma did deserve a reward.

Or, maybe Taylor just couldn't help herself.

Another burst of manic, almost angry courage flooded Taylor's veins, consequences be damned. Instead of headbutting Sophia or blowing Emma a kiss, this time Taylor stepped forward and wrapped her arms possessively around Emma from behind, grasping her own wrist and resting her chin on Emma's shoulder.

The strangled gasp that slipped between Emma's teeth was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, and fuck if it didn't set her insides on fire. Taylor wished she could see Emma's expression.

From the look on Julia's face, it was a fun one.

Even through her own hoodie and Emma's scarf, everywhere that touched Emma burned. It was as painful as it was incredible, and Taylor felt alive.

Part of her, a lot of her, still hated Emma, but she was too fucking selfish to deny herself what she wanted. She'd earned it, after the last two years of hell.

"Something you wanted to say, Jules?" Taylor said in a low voice. Not Nobody's snark, or her own usual lack of humor, but something in between. Just a fraction of the malice that had clawed its way to the surface when she'd broken Sophia's body piece by piece.

Julia's spine was a lot weaker than Sophia's. She folded like wet tissue paper.

"No, um, that's cool, uh… Taylor," Julia stammered.

Taylor felt Emma shiver against her, and this time a real smile managed to leak across her face. For some reason, that just made Julia and a few of the others pale further.

Emma managed to recover pretty quickly, still locked in Taylor's arms. Taylor couldn't see her face, but Emma's voice returned to her carefully crafted facade.

"So, who's actually going to Lori's party? I heard that…" Emma started what Taylor assumed were her usual games with the group, as if she hadn't just inserted their previous target into their midst alongside vague, implied threats of violence and social suicide. Taylor knew better than anyone that Emma was dangerous, and apparently, these sycophants did, too.

Taylor didn't really bother to listen. None of them mattered.

Sophia was still watching her suspiciously. Taylor raised an eyebrow at her.

Sophia's eyes narrowed, and Taylor tightened her grip on Emma automatically.

Emma let her head fall back against Taylor's shoulder. Just the slightest movement, not even all that obvious from the outside, but it was enough to set Taylor on fire all over again. Emma's hair tickled her jaw. Her shampoo still smelled the same, even after so fucking long. Cherries, and almonds.

Fuck.

It wasn't fucking fair that Emma could still do this to her. It wasn't fair that she got to do everything she did, and still tie Taylor into knots so easily… but that didn't mean Taylor wasn't going to enjoy every stolen second.

Sophia rolled her eyes.

That… wasn't the reaction Taylor expected.

Sophia was just going to… roll with it?

Taylor hated that all it took was a word from Emma to put her previous suffering on hold. It was such bullshit.

But…

Part of her knew, now, that if Emma turned on her again, it would be Emma's loss. Emma must know that she was walking a thin tight-rope made of glass, and one slip would push Taylor away forever.

She was playing with fire, but that was, apparently, Emma's favorite game.

Taylor understood, on some level. It was fucked up, but Emma was right about one thing. Their shattered pieces fit, now. Like a bloodstained glass puzzle.

Emma definitely didn't deserve anything Taylor was so fucking tempted to give her.

But that didn't mean Taylor didn't want to, anyway.

…

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011.

Nobody met Lisa's raised eyebrow with a knowing smile as Taylor wore a path across the rug in the Undersiders' loft.

The others hadn't arrived yet, and Taylor was doing an admirable job of locking herself in her own head. Not that Nobody couldn't see every second of her spiral, but they were content to let things play out, for once. Taylor was keeping things interesting all on her own, this time.

"On a scale from one to 'calling me at 4:00 AM because your projection committed fake suicide', how messed up is your civilian life now?" Lisa leaned against the chipped countertop and sipped her coffee.

Taylor just glared at her and started another round of pacing.

"She doubted your assessment, and Emma called her bluff," Nobody supplied helpfully from the couch.

"Fuck off," Taylor snapped. "I didn't… she didn't…"

"Oh, sweetie," Lisa sighed, but she was still smiling.

"I get enough condescension from them, thanks very much," Taylor grumbled, finally altering her pattern to throw herself onto the other couch diagonal from Nobody.

"I would never," Nobody said. Condescendingly.

"You know? Maybe it's a good thing my power keeps everything nice and clinical," Lisa chuckled.

"Et tu, Lisa?" Nobody swooned dramatically. "You only wish your power cracked insightful one liners. Maybe I can give it improv lessons."

"Your 'improv' came pretty damn close to getting us killed yesterday," Taylor reminded them dryly.

"Close only counts in-"

"Moonlighting again, Specter?" Alec quipped as he wandered into the main area of the loft.

"Her girlfriend just has a habit of shoving knives in my face," Nobody said.

"Not my-" Taylor protested automatically.

"You know, edge play isn't-" Alec started at the same time.

"I already made that joke. No double jeopardy. And you might as well accept it," Nobody cut them both off.

"Damn. I miss being the only problem child," Alec threw himself over the arm of the couch and landed halfway across Nobody's lap.

Nobody took the opportunity to play with his hair. Alec had nice hair. He didn't complain.

"At least they actually arrive on time," Brian's voice filtered up the stairs and Nobody caught a whiff of fresh pizza.

Maybe they should ask Taylor to swap bodies. Eating was one of the better parts of being real. Unless it was Winslow cafeteria food.

"Where does it go if you… Actually, forget I asked," Lisa changed course abruptly mid sentence.

Nobody smirked.

"You sure you don't want to know the intimate details of my-"

"Absolutely not," Lisa said firmly.

"I beat you here this time, Boss-man," Alec called back. "You should pay me overtime."

"You live here. That's not an accomplishment," Brian pointed out as he set a stack of pizza boxes on the coffee table.

Bitch followed him in, sans dogs this time. She spun the threadbare desk chair around to sit backwards in it, her elbows braced on the back.

Nobody didn't really know what to make of Rachel. They didn't interact much, and their assignments rarely overlapped. Taylor was in the same boat, for once.

Taylor grabbed a piece of pizza, and caught Nobody's eye from across the room. Her expression twisted for a moment, and Nobody couldn't quite make sense of the emotions buzzing in the back of their mind.

Nobody felt Taylor's intention before it happened.

Acting on recently acquired instincts, Nobody let go of their control over their shared projection and let themselves be dragged back into their physical body.

They blinked, suddenly holding the slice of pizza and staring at themselves from the other side of the couch.

Taylor popped and reformed automatically, taking on her preferred form. Alec squawked indignantly as he fell back onto the couch.

Nobody glanced between Taylor and the pizza in their hand.

They didn't know how to feel about that.

They took a bite anyway.

It was really good.

"That's a new trick," Lisa kept her expression controlled, but her eyes still widened slightly.

"Apparently, life or death situations combined with Emma Barnes is the trick to brute forcing Taylor's self-delusions," Nobody taunted, but their heart wasn't in it.

Taylor flipped them off, but it didn't seem like she really meant it, either.

They took another bite of their pizza.

Lisa glanced between them, then bravely changed the subject.

"Main topic for today," Lisa said. "We've got a new job request from the Boss. Big money, with some advanced planning required."

Nobody leaned forward. They'd figured that was the case when Lisa called the meeting. This sounded like one of the interesting ones, not just a B&E or something.

Lisa smiled.

"How does everyone feel about a good old-fashioned prison break?"

…

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011.

Taylor appeared on the sidewalk outside a familiar gated driveway.

The moths were back in force. She could see the warm light spilling from the far-right window on the second floor, despite the late hour.

Nobody let their motorcycle roll to a stop at the curb and took their helmet off.

It was still a bit weird, staring at her own face. It caught her off guard sometimes. Not as weird as it used to be, though.

Nobody's thoughts were more chaotic than usual. Taylor didn't have the energy to decipher them, but she felt like she had to say… something.

"Thanks…" Taylor said a bit grudgingly. "For putting up with all this."

"What can I say?" Nobody's lips tugged up at the corner. "It's your life. I'm just along for the ride."

Taylor frowned.

This was one of the many things she'd shoved into the pit, months ago. It wasn't the most difficult thing to let out, by any means, but it was still something.

She'd spent so long trying to keep everything under control, learn to live with Nobody and their bullshit, and somewhere along the way…

"Our life," Taylor whispered before she could second guess herself.

"Hmmm?" Nobody hummed in confusion.

"It's our life," Taylor said more resolutely this time.

Nobody's expression faltered. They looked strangely vulnerable for a brief second before their smile slipped back into place.

"Don't make me cry, now," Nobody said. "I can't pop like this and you don't want to be a mess for your date."

"Right. Okay," Taylor said awkwardly. She honestly couldn't tell if Nobody was being genuine or not, but she had enough on her mind as it was.

"Go," Nobody's grin was more genuine, now. "I'll be ready to swap when you get back."

Taylor nodded, and popped away.

She appeared in Emma's bedroom.

Emma didn't jump, this time. Or pull a gun. She just sat up, cross-legged on the bed amongst the other soft things, her face clear of makeup and her hair slightly damp and tangled. Sweat pants and a cami that Taylor forced herself not to look at.

"Hey, Tay," Emma said quietly.

Taylor's throat felt tight. Part of her was still screaming, but the rest of her didn't care.

"Hey, Emmi."

Emma's expression fell slack for a moment and her mouth twisted. Taylor couldn't tell if Emma loved or hated hearing her old name like that again. Taylor wasn't sure how she felt about it, either.

Glass fucking houses. Emma shouldn't dish it out if she couldn't take it.

Emma visibly pulled herself together. It was slightly gratifying to know she wasn't the only one affected by their… everything.

Emma could be lying again, with her face instead of her words, but Taylor didn't think she was, this time. It all felt too raw. Too real, to be some kind of elaborate plot.

"You put on a good show, today," Emma said.

"I could say the same about you," Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"Practice makes perfect," Emma tossed her hair dramatically. "They're easy to please. And puppet."

Taylor snorted. She couldn't help herself.

Emma was still a bitch. Even if Taylor loved her.

"Everyone is, for you," Taylor said before she could stop herself.

"Except you," Emma whispered. Her eyes found Taylor's, and Taylor saw the cracks beneath the surface.

Taylor hated that so fucking much. All Emma had to do was not do… any of this, and she would have already had her. For fucking years.

We didn't fit, anymore.

Fuck.

Could the old her, Emma's Taylor, have loved this Emma?

Maybe.

They'd never know, now.

Green fire burned its way into her brain, and Taylor ripped her gaze away before she did something stupid. Well, even more stupid.

Her eyes fell on a new poster, hung without a frame at roughly Emma's head height on the far wall. Some indie band Taylor didn't know.

Guess Emma didn't tell Alan and Zoe about the hole, after all.

Emma blinked and followed her stare before laughing lowly.

"Thanks for that, by the way. Dad's going to be pissed. And ask awkward questions," Emma grinned.

The warmth in Taylor's chest was back.

"You weren't exactly complaining at the time," Taylor pointed out.

Emma's grin became a smirk, and Taylor's heart thudded unevenly. Fucking pathetic.

"I'm still not. I'm just pointing out the obvious. Maybe next time, you can throw me into your walls, so you have to explain to your dad that you like it when-"

"Fuck, Emma, just… shut the fuck up," Taylor cut her off.

Emma snapped her mouth closed, but she still looked way too pleased with herself.

Taylor wanted to find a way to burn that smirk off her face.

Instead, she took a deep breath and forced the dancing moths back into their assigned seats.

"Meet me outside," Taylor said. Her first instinct was to ask instead of tell, but she was done asking for anything, from Emma. "And put on some jeans. Actual jeans, not just leggings or whatever."

Emma raised her eyebrows. Taylor wondered if she was going to make a comment about sneaking out, after she'd stolen Alan's car in the middle of the night to come hide Taylor's body.

"Okay," Emma said.

Taylor let her eyes run over Emma's pale, freckled shoulders one more time, then popped away.

Nobody was still waiting next to their motorcycle, piloting their actual body.

"I know I'm not exactly a paragon of virtue," Nobody commented in their shared mind. "But you should probably tell her about the whole memory swapping thing. Maybe before you put any more holes in her walls."

"She deserves-" Taylor pushed back automatically.

"She deserves to know," Nobody thought firmly. "It's different."

Wow. Nobody wasn't usually this serious about anything.

"You're the one who decided to play her games instead of walking away," Nobody continued. "It doesn't change the past, but… if you actually want this future, you need to figure your shit out before you break each other any worse."

Taylor's frown carved itself into her face.

"You're just full of advice tonight, aren't you?" Taylor shot back acidly. Nobody had zero ground to lecture her, after everything they'd done.

Of course, instead of rising to the bait, they just grinned crookedly.

"I'm your conscience, Pinocchio. It's my job," they said flippantly, out loud.

Then Nobody took control of their shared projection, and Taylor was suddenly sitting on the bike.

"Second star to the right, straight on 'till morning," Nobody quipped with a two-fingered wave. "Ciao."

Then they popped away, leaving Taylor alone in front of Emma's house.

She could still feel them nearby, see the park down the street through their eyes, but their thoughts were quiet.

A dark figure hopped the fence just a few feet away, and Taylor had to stop herself from lashing out automatically.

"You have a motorcycle?" Emma said incredulously. Her voice was hushed, but only so they didn't wake anyone up.

"Technically, Natasha Greene has a motorcycle, and just happens to look a lot like me," Taylor muttered. She didn't hate the fake name Lisa included with her documents, but it felt…

"You have a fake?" Emma blinked.

Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"I rob banks and beat up heroes, remember?" Taylor said. She hadn't actually robbed a bank, but it sounded cool. Maybe after they were done with this prison transport hit.

Their newest job nudged the edge of her moral sensibilities, but Lisa insisted that their target had been maligned by the system. Still, Lisa was good at lying, when it suited her.

"Yeah, I know, it's just…" Emma didn't seem to know what to say, for once.

This unsure, quiet Emma, sneaking out of her parents house, was even more tempting than the confident smirk Taylor almost caved to yesterday.

Taylor's hand shot out and caught the collar of Emma's shirt, dragging her forward until her body fell against Taylor's leg where she straddled the bike. It took her a moment to register that Emma had put on a black long-sleeved T-shirt. Not her usual style, but apparently sneaking out wasn't a new experience for Emma.

I wonder just how many corpses she's hidden? Or made?

Emma was too quick with her gun and her knife for someone who'd never used them.

It also occurred to her that Emma might be able to kill her, now, if she really wanted to. Nobody was fast, but the element of surprise was potent.

Taylor twisted the neck of Emma's shirt and her startled gasp washed over Taylor's cheek. Mint toothpaste.

"You made me like this," Taylor breathed from just inches away. "No getting cold feet now."

Emma leaned forward almost involuntarily, pushing herself onto her toes. Her lips inched forward to close the distance between them as Taylor fell into emerald depths.

But Taylor kept her clenched fist still, and held Emma fast. Her knuckles burned hot against the hollow of Emma's throat.

Then she gently, but firmly, pushed Emma away and let go.

Taylor watched the cracks widen as Emma's expression crumpled, and she smiled.

God, that was fucking addicting.

She didn't stop to rub salt in Emma's wounds, though. It was better this way. Keep her off balance. Keep her guessing.

Taylor grabbed the second motorcycle helmet she'd brought from the loft, and handed it to Emma along with a black jacket.

"Come on," Taylor said, and Emma's disappointed expression shifted.

"What? We're going…" Emma floundered.

She was fucking adorable like this, out of her depth.

"Why do you think I dragged you out here?" Now it was Taylor's turn to smirk.

She saw the moment that Emma's trepidation turned to excitement. A pivotal, self-destructive internal 'fuck it', when any potential consequences stopped mattering.

And she couldn't look away.

Emma's eyes burned in the night.

"Are you kidnapping me, then?" Emma bit her lip as she pulled on the motorcycle jacket. "Should I call Sophia?"

Taylor glared, despite Emma's playful tone. She didn't like the reminder of that day.

"If you do, I might not bother bringing you back," Taylor hissed. She couldn't tell if she was serious or not.

Emma didn't seem to mind at all, either way.

With one last flash of green, Emma pulled her hair back and slid the helmet down over her head. She threw one leg over the back of the bike, and suddenly her body was pressed tightly against Taylor's back.

It was extremely distracting.

Taylor forced the fire back down into the pit of her stomach, even as Emma adjusted slightly against her to get situated.

Then she pushed the kickstand back, dropped the bike into gear, and pulled away from Emma's house. The motorcycle's low roar built underneath her, and she felt Emma shiver behind her.

For the first time in a long time, it felt good to be alive.

Taylor and Emma sped away, under the broken streetlights, Nobody popping along silently behind them.

…

Notes:

Imitation Game is back! Huzzah for more angst and pining, and just a bit of Nobody shenanigans. We'll have more of those next time. Look at Emma and Taylor making some actual progress! Sophia interlude is up next, should be fun. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody likes olives on their pizza.

Chapter 12: Interlude 2

Interlude 2

Saturday, April 23rd, 2011.

Everything hurt. She barely felt her head bounce off the rough surface of the rooftop.

Sophia had a lot of practice dealing with pain, but it still wasn't a walk in the park. Entering her shadow state would take the edge off and repair some of the damage, but fuck if it wasn't hard to focus right now. Her head rang. Her vision was blurry. Burning lines radiated from her ribs, from her knees, her wrist, her kidneys, her face.

Her nose was probably broken. Again. She could feel the hot blood filling her mask.

Plus, this fucking building had fluorescent lights on the top floor, and the grid of wiring was too small to drop through.

And, on top of all that, Hebert wouldn't stop fucking talking.

"...don't forget… I know about all the skeletons in your closet," Hebert said. "I'm one of them, after all."

Fuck off, pathetic sack of-

Sophia tried to breathe, and her broken ribs screamed. She felt more blood coat the inside of her mask as she coughed.

Hebert's power made no fucking sense. Sophia knew Hebert wasn't a normal regenerator, she never healed, but she just kept coming back for more. A shot to the brain hadn't killed her. The Tinkertech sedative had barely slowed her down. Staying in her shadow state forever felt like the only way to avoid those fucking sticks of hers, and she couldn't fucking win like that.

And Sophia didn't lose.

Except she had.

Gritting her teeth so hard she heard something crack, Sophia wrenched a bolt from her reserves and jammed it into Hebert's ankle as hard as she could, straight through the black leather combat boots. It wouldn't do anything, but it made her feel better. Hebert obviously still felt pain, even if the injuries didn't stick.

Sophia needed to go down swinging. She wouldn't stop until she was fucking worm food, and she needed Hebert to know she hadn't made her quit.

Hebert flickered like old TV static, and the bolt fell out of her boot.

The same boot that crashed into Sophia's face a moment later.

If my nose wasn't broken before, it definitely is now.

"Shadow Stalker!" Vista yelled.

Little fucking late, there, pipsqueak. Fucking useless-

Cool, empty darkness descended, and Sophia let it take the pain away along with the rest of her.

…

Saturday, April 23rd, 2011.

Debriefs sucked almost as much as getting the shit kicked out of her by a fucking worm like Hebert.

Almost.

At least it wasn't just her. Aegis also got used as a chew toy, so they had to call up Panacea, anyway. Couldn't exactly have the Wards going back to school on Monday looking like raw hamburger in civies after a public brawl over the weekend.

That still didn't do shit to uncoil the knot of frustration in her gut, but she'd take her silver linings where she could find them. There weren't many of them to go around, these days.

"...and here, the Undersiders use Grue's power in tandem with Hellhound's minions to confuse the angle of approach…"

She and the other ENE Wards were gathered in one of the PRT conference rooms. Clockblocker had his feet on the table. Aegis, the current Wards leader, stood at the whiteboard now that his insides were back on the inside again. Vista had her arms crossed tightly. Browbeat, the newest addition to their team, fidgeted nervously.

Sophia tuned Aegis out and bounced her leg. None of this shit mattered.

Everything was going to shit, and Sophia was pretty sure it was Hebert's fault, somehow. It was fucking infuriating, how much time she spent thinking about that pathetic sad sack recently.

Sophia never really understood Emma's fixation with her, but the shit at school… well, it was something to do. Winslow was boring as fuck. What did it matter if Emma got her rocks off making Hebert cry?

Then Hebert broke her fucking nose.

That moment of stunned confusion, sitting on the hallway floor half-blind, still haunted her. She should have gotten up, should've broken Hebert's fucking jaw, should've…

But she hadn't. The unexpected, out-of-context pain and the shear fucking audacity of it all had frozen her.

That, and the look on Emma's face.

Emma never looked at anyone like that.

Sophia had been there when Emma put the walls up. She hadn't even realized they could come crashing down.

"...looking at the traffic cam footage, we can see the lead car start moving erratically…"

But now it seemed like everything was in free fall. Hebert shooting herself. Emma kissing her fucking corpse, which apparently wasn't a corpse at all. Their stupid, silent, passive-aggressive dance from a distance over the last week.

It was so fucking stupid.

Until Hebert joined a fucking villain gang. Started fucking with Sophia's real life.

Now, it mattered.

And she couldn't say anything, because that would mean…

What? Admitting to someone other than Emma that she got beat by Hebert?

"...new member, probably the same cape from their brush with Armsmaster a couple weeks ago…"

They'd start asking questions. Ask how she knew. Why she knew. They'd start looking into Winslow, and if they found a pattern…

No matter what her probation agreement said, Sophia had never given up on her true purpose. The actual work she did for this city, even if it would never get logged in her take-down records with the PRT. What needed to be done, even if the spineless shits at the PRT weren't willing to step up.

All of that would come crashing down if she ratted out Hebert.

It felt like losing, anyway.

"...Shadow Stalker's report. Shadow Stalker? Stalker? Sophia?" Aegis' voice finally forced its way into her spiral.

Sophia realized that the rest of the Wards were looking at her.

"What?" She bit out sharply.

"What happened with the new cape? We couldn't get any footage of your fight on the roof," Aegis said.

How much should she give them?

"Mover. Teleportation," Sophia snapped. "Resets their body with every jump. Doesn't need line of sight. Injection bolts didn't do shit."

Aegis added her summary under the column labeled 'Specter'. They'd picked the name up from the recording of Armsmaster's fight with Lung.

Sophia didn't want to admit it, but Hebert had picked a pretty badass name. Props for doubling down.

"I threw their ass half a mile away, and they still came back," Vista said. Shortstack liked to curse, like it would make her cooler or something. Stupid.

"Specter didn't leave or arrive with the others, either. Range is probably pretty long." Aegis nodded, stepping back to look at the board. "Man, that's going to be a pain."

Sophia glared at him, but didn't comment. Fucking right Hebert was a pain.

"So we've got… what? Off-brand Oni Lee, but with sticks instead of grenades?" Clockblocker asked.

"No cloning, right?" Aegis glanced at Sophia. "They disappeared and reappeared when they teleported?"

Sophia just stared at him. What a stupid fucking question. If Hebert could clone herself, Sophia would have said that. Dumbass.

She definitely needed to talk to somebody about Hebert. But it wasn't these pretentious rent-a-cops in spandex.

…

Sunday, April 24th, 2011.

Sophia was too restless to sit down. She stood next to the desk in Emma's messy bedroom, tapping a sharp pattern into the wood.

She hated this. Hated that Hebert had somehow become important.

"She's a villain?" Emma asked again.

Even Emma was being weird about it.

"I dunno what you want me to say," Sophia groaned. "Yeah. Showed up with the Undersiders. Called me out again."

"You didn't tell them-"

"Of fucking course I didn't tell them," Sophia snapped. "I'm not going down just so Hebert can cut a probation deal. With my luck, she'd end up in the Wards and I'd get a shock collar."

Emma sat propped against the wall on her bed, knees tucked up against her chest in her shorts and monogrammed T-shirt. She could have been any of the totally normal, blissfully unaware fucks at Winslow.

But Sophia had seen her hands painted red.

The look was back, though. Ever since that cursed morning when Hebert shot herself and then showed up again like fucking parahuman Jesus, the cracks in Emma's walls had been getting wider.

A strange, half-smile snuck onto Emma's face when she wasn't paying attention. It was creepy.

"What?" Sophia demanded.

Emma's eyes slid lazily over to her. Sophia repressed a shiver.

"What 'what'?" Emma said.

"What the fuck is going on with you and Hebert?"

She expected Emma to deny it, but instead, Emma's smile just widened. Emma's smiles were anything but kind.

"She came to see me on Friday," Emma said, eyes sparkling. "Appeared out of nowhere, right there."

Fuck.

"And you didn't tell me?" Sophia asked incredulously. They didn't exactly text constantly, but that was definitely fucking newsworthy.

"I'm handling it," Emma said with a knowing smirk.

Emma was tougher than she looked, and lethal as hell when she wanted to be, but there were limits, dammit.

"She's fucking dangerous," Sophia said. "She-"

Sophia snapped her jaw shut. She didn't want to admit that she lost.

Emma saw through her, anyway. She always did.

"I'm guessing today wasn't exactly a victory for the heroes, then?" Emma asked.

Sophia clenched her fist on the desk but didn't answer.

"You didn't answer my question," Sophia said instead. "What's with you? I know you got some weird thing with her, but-"

"I told you last week," Emma's voice was low. The strange, cracked look was back in spades. "Taylor belongs to me."

The pieces finally clicked together in Sophia's mind, and she wanted to scream. Or break something.

Because it made too much fucking sense.

The way Emma had looked when she ripped out Hebert's heart, summer before last. The way she fixated on her, kept coming back to fuck with her for no reason. The way Emma's eyes followed her, tracked her, anytime they were in the same room.

The way Emma had smiled when Hebert had broken her nose in that hallway.

"You're fucking with me," Sophia said.

Emma just stared at her, level and unblinking. Sophia could see the twisted edges, the remnants of the thing Emma had let free inside herself when she clawed out that ABB fucker's eyes with her bare hands.

Sophia looked away first.

"Fuck," Sophia cursed again. She wasn't even sure exactly what she was cursing. Emma. Hebert. This whole tangled up situation.

"Just trust me. I know what I'm doing," Emma said casually, going back to scrolling on her phone like she didn't have some fucked up love-hate boner for the whimpering dork who turned out to be a fucking villain.

Sophia usually trusted Emma's judgement. Between the two of them, she was the puppet master. Emma always knew where the fractures ran deep, where to strike to cause the most damage.

But when it came to Hebert…

Sophia wasn't sure she could trust Emma at all.

…

Monday, April 25th, 2011.

Something was wrong.

And it wasn't just that Hebert was sitting at their fucking lunch table. That was just the icing on the cake.

"I heard you got a new job. Good for you," Emma said.

There it was again.

Emma was in full manipulative bitch mode. She was glaring at Hebert, with no trace of the creepy excited-gooey-satisfied smile.

Not that Sophia was sad to see that particular look take a hike, but it didn't make sense. She'd never paid super close attention to Emma's games, but she usually knew the general gist of what was happening. This didn't line up.

"Aww, thanks. I heard you were sick over the weekend, Sophia," Hebert taunted "I'm glad you got better so quickly."

The uncanny valley effect intensified. When they fought on Saturday, Hebert couldn't keep her mouth shut, but…

Madison was complaining. At least they were both missing something, here. Emma's insistence that she'd handle it didn't really help.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Taylor? Alone?" Emma's facade cracked.

That wasn't a voice Emma used with Hebert. What the fuck was she missing?

Emma followed Hebert towards the exit.

Hebert threw an insult at Madison over her shoulder.

"What the hell?" Julia asked incredulously.

"I've never seen her like that. Either of them," Madison said, staring after them.

A chill ran up Sophia's spine.

Because that's not fucking Hebert.

Stranger.

And Emma knew, somehow. And she followed them out of the cafeteria anyway.

Fuck.

Sophia leapt to her feet and followed them, walking as quickly as she could without making a scene. She heard Madison untangling herself from the cafeteria chair behind her, but she didn't bother to wait.

Emma would take the Stranger to the roof, to interrogate them. Private. Low chance of anyone overhearing.

The hallway was empty. Good.

Sophia threw the door to the maintenance closet open and dug through the long abandoned stacks of empty bleach containers to the hollowed out brick at the back of the bottom shelf. She pulled out the locked case that held one of her spare sets of folding hand crossbows and broadhead bolts.

Was it reckless to keep these at school? Yeah. But she never wanted to be too far from her weapons. She'd rather go down shooting.

Sophia assembled the weapons quickly and loaded them with a satisfying snap. The feel of the triggers under her fingers never got old.

Then she looked up, and leapt into the shadows.

Her Breaker state was so light, it almost felt like flying. A strong push from the tile floor was more than enough to send her soaring through two stories of unused classrooms, straight up to the roof.

She reformed just after passing through the roof, her residual momentum bleeding off rapidly as her weight returned.

Huh. Maybe Hebert can clone herself after all.

Aegis was still a fucking prick, though.

Emma squirmed slightly in one version of Hebert's hands, her knife embedded straight through one. That was an annoyingly effective way for a regenerator to neutralize a weapon.

The look was back. Sophia resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. For someone usually so ruthless, Emma was a fucking mess for Hebert. It was exhausting.

The other Hebert, probably the Stranger from the cafeteria given the apple still in their hands, watched from their position by the roof access door.

Sophia aimed one crossbow at each Hebert, just for good measure.

"Let her go. Now," Sophia said coldly.

Then Madison exploded through the roof access door, clearly out of breath from running up two flights of stairs after them, and everything got even more complicated.

This shitshow had to be all Hebert's fault. Somehow.

…

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011.

Hebert was sitting at their lunch table. Again.

Sophia tried not to care.

The balance between them was precarious, but surprisingly even. Sophia couldn't rat Hebert out without bringing a lot of unwanted heat on herself, and vice versa. Neither of them could guarantee that a surprise attack would be both lethal and subtle.

Plus, apparently, Emma didn't want either of them dead. Which… complicated things.

But Sophia could feel Hebert getting her claws more firmly latched into Emma by the minute. Or maybe it was the other way around. Who the fuck knew, with those two?

Hebert must have gone to see Emma last night. Sophia tried not to think about what kind of shit they got up to.

She definitely didn't want Emma the way Hebert clearly did, but…

Emma was her best friend, for fuck's sake. They'd covered up literal bodies together. They were supposed to be ride or fucking die.

And maybe, Emma still was, technically. She hadn't turned against Sophia or anything.

Still. Sophia didn't like this.

Hebert didn't really say much. Didn't talk to anyone besides Emma and the occasional sarcastic remark to Madison.

As she watched, Hebert leaned over and breathed something inaudible into Emma's ear. Emma flushed down to her neck. Madison just smirked from across the table.

What the actual fuck?

"Want to hit up Tipton's later?" Madison asked the table at large, but her eyes bounced from Emma to Sophia to Hebert and back. Madison had always enjoyed drama.

Sophia would rather snort razor blades than 'hit up' a Boardwalk bar and grill, and, luckily, she had a good excuse this time.

"Work," Sophia grunted.

Emma looked at Hebert hopefully. Because of course she fucking did. Jesus Christ.

Hebert wasn't looking at Emma, though.

"Sorry," Hebert said, her frog mouth twitching up just a bit at the corner as she eyed Sophia. "I've got work, too."

Fuck.

"What a coincidence," Madison observed dryly.

Emma laughed. The rest of the table just looked confused.

Sophia didn't know whether to be excited or not.

…

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011.

In other cities, the Wards were only responsible for things like prisoner transports as a part of occasional training missions. In Brockton Bay, it was a pretty normal assignment.

At least they actually had Protectorate support, this time.

Sophia hated that she had to ride in the transport van instead of flying above it like Aegis. Or, God forbid, they get her her own fucking vehicle. She'd kill for a motorcycle.

The prisoner was silent, just glaring at them. It was better that way. Sophia hated it when they talked.

She was tense. It was always possible that Hebert had been fucking with her, but she didn't think so. Hebert was just that fucking arrogant after last Saturday.

It wasn't like Sophia could tell anyone that the Undersiders were up to something. They might not even be after the transport. They had no reason to want this prisoner, anyway. If anything, they should be worried about-

"Hostiles inbound," Miss Militia's voice suddenly sounded over the coms. "Multiple directions. South-east, and west. Undersiders. Split up, by the look of it."

Sophia sprang to her feet. Clockblocker was a bit slower to react, moving to cover the prisoner. He was best suited for close engagements, and he could always freeze the prisoner if things got too dicey.

"Hellhound and Regent approaching ahead," Aegis's voice popped up in her ear. "Grue's Shaker effect approaching the prisoner transport. Can't see Tattletale or Specter, but they're probably in the cloud."

Sophia was torn. Grue's Shaker effect fucked with her shadow state, but she wanted another crack at both him and Hebert.

"Aegis, with me. Do not let those things get ahold of you. Aerial harassment only," Miss Militia said. "Stalker, Clockblocker, stay with the prisoner. Report immediately if Specter makes a move."

And just like that, Sophia's blood was boiling again. Fucking Hebert.

"Velocity is en route," Vista said from the console. Sophia bet she was fucking pissed to be missing out on the fun.

The pipsqueak was a bloodthirsty little thing. She was annoying, but Sophia couldn't give her too much shit.

"Any others? This could be a good opportunity to bring them in if we can collapse a grid," Miss Militia said.

"No, they're-"

Sophia didn't get to hear why the rest of the Protectorate wasn't coming, because the transport van suddenly swerved wildly into the highway median. She turned to shadow on instinct, leaping straight through the back doors. The van careened away behind her, taking out a guard rail before plowing heavily into the mud.

"Transport is disabled," Sophia snapped into her mic.

She leapt again, activating her Breaker state just as she pushed off for optimum lift. She didn't want to get caught in the rapidly approaching darkness.

The highway was chaotic, beneath her. The PRT convoy kept most civilian cars away, but they were still starting to back up. Grue's Shaker effect dominated one side of the road. Ahead, Sophia could just make out the forms of Hellhound's beasts.

Priorities. Grue's darkness would make it all too easy to snag the prisoner if they got into the van.

Sophia landed on the roof of the transport and aimed her crossbows into the darkness.

Grue's power was such fucking bullshit.

Still, he had to be here somewhere, and her bolts would actually bring him down. Unlike Hebert.

Fuck. Hebert must be here somewhere, too.

Sophia did not want to fight her blind.

"Movement at the back of the van. Door just unlocked," Clockblocker said, his voice going slightly high-pitched with worry.

Fucking pussy.

Sophia threw herself over the side of the van, and everything went dark. All sound cut out. It felt a bit like she was moving through water, although not quite as debilitating.

She managed to catch someone around the neck. At least, it felt like their neck. Someone roughly her size.

Sophia didn't hesitate. She aimed the crossbow in her other hand at what she hoped was the villain's center mass, and fired.

The flailing body in her arms stiffened, and hot satisfaction flooded her veins. She wasn't fucking useless.

She could feel the drugs taking effect. Her target's movements became sluggish, ineffective as they struggled against her.

Then something heavy clocked her in the side of the head, hard, and she was rolling across the pavement.

Fuck.

She hauled herself to her feet and tried to make her way back to the van, but she was pretty sure she was going the wrong way.

Could she get above it?

It was worth a try.

Sophia jumped straight up and turned to shadow. Grue's darkness clung to her, leaking into her, and it made her feel like she was suffocating even as she pushed against it.

After a brief, terrifying moment when she felt like she was somehow being crushed and dissolved at the same time, she broke free. The evening sky came back into view as she broke through the top of the cloud.

It felt like finally getting her head above water after drowning. Her residual momentum carried her out of Grue's range.

She didn't have time to stop, though. She wasn't giving up that easily.

Just as she was about to dive back in, a red blur appeared at her side. Velocity, the local Protectorate's Mover.

"You okay?" He asked, bouncing on his toes and surveying the scene.

Sophia didn't want to talk.

The darkness suddenly shifted. A black motorcycle leaking a wide plume of smoke rocketed out of the depths and down the highway away from them. Sophia could barely see the outline of a large man in road leathers driving, with an unconscious body in a purple catsuit laid across the back.

Well, she'd gotten Tattletale, by the look of things. That was something.

Still no sign of Hebert, and it was putting her on edge.

"I've got eyes on Grue and Tattletale, leaving the scene to the south," Velocity said into the coms before turning to her. "Secure the prisoner. I'm gonna see if I can run 'em down."

Sophia nodded, and he disappeared.

The cloud was clearing quickly in Grue's absence. Sophia sprinted for the transport van.

The back doors were hanging open.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She rounded the back of the van.

Inside, Clockblocker stood ready but seemingly unharmed in front of the prisoner, who was just as locked up as she was when Sophia left.

"Prisoner's secure," Sophia said into her coms.

She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. It was frustrating that Tattletale and Grue got away, but that was a secondary concern.

She stepped into the van and sat heavily on her original seat, elbows braced against her knees.

Less than a minute later, Miss Militia's bandanaed face appeared around the side of the back door.

"They're in retreat. I don't think we'll be putting any of them away tonight, but that's still a win," Miss Militia said bracingly. "Anything to report here?"

"Hit Tattletale with one of Armsmaster's bolts," Sophia said. "She and Grue fucked off after that."

At least Miss Militia didn't comment on her language.

"It got dark in here for a little bit, but they didn't make it into the van," Clockblocker said.

Something itched in the back of Sophia's mind.

"Good work. We'll have a backup transport here in a couple minutes. Just hang tight," Miss Militia said.

Sophia grunted something vaguely affirmative, and Clockblocker gave a shitty approximation of a salute.

Then they were alone, as the sirens slowly got closer.

"I think that went pretty well, all things considered," Clockblocker said.

"Don't fucking jinx it," Sophia said.

Hebert's absence was still putting her on edge. Like she was missing something obvious.

Her eyes fell on the prisoner.

She looked exactly the same as before. Straight curtain of hair like an oil slick. Pale, unsettling eyes with an unhinged edge to them. Same gray jumpsuit provided to all unwilling guests of the PRT. Bound at the ankles and wrists in addition to being strapped into her seat.

The prisoner smiled, and Sophia suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She recognized that smug smile from the Winslow rooftop.

Stranger.

The prisoner winked at her, then disappeared into thin air, bindings and all.

"Shit!" Sophia yelled, punching the side of the van.

She activated her general coms.

"M/S Protocol - Imposter," Sophia spat into her mic.

She eyed the empty chair. Fury bubbled in her gut.

She was going to fucking kill Hebert. Again. Someday.

"Bakuda's gone."

…

Notes:

Sophia continues to have a rough time of things. Both Emma and Taylor's actions look even more unhinged from the outside. At least a tentative status quo has been established at Winslow. Fun little prison break, and Nobody can't help but gloat a bit. I'm not planning for this story to be nearly as long as my others, so this next arc might be the last. Unless Nobody decides to do some more improv. We'll see. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody feeds your fish if you forget.

Chapter 13: Shatter 3.1

Shatter 3.1

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011.

Bakuda shot them one last glare before climbing into the back of the black towncar the Boss had sent to collect her.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, internally. The former ABB Tinker put her on edge.

This whole assignment put her on edge. It felt almost… performative. She knew part of that was the ruse to get Nobody into position, but the rest…

How had Bakuda known they were coming for her? What kind of arrangement had she made with the Boss? It must have been before she got captured, but that didn't make sense.

Who the fuck did they even work for?

Lisa caught her eye as she closed the door to the loft. She jerked her head to the side, and Taylor followed her up the stairs.

Alec and Nobody were playing some kind of split screen shooter game on the big screen. Brian and Rachel had already left.

Instead of stopping in the living room, Lisa kept walking. Nobody raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as Taylor continued down the hallway after her.

Taylor and Nobody technically had a room back here, but they didn't use it often. Her father was just happy that she had friends, and he didn't really ask any questions about her inconsistent hours. There were days that she felt his eyes following her, but she was content to ignore him if he didn't bother her.

He hadn't been there when it mattered. She didn't need him or his judgement now.

She'd never been in Lisa's room before. It was surprisingly clean. The door clicked shut behind them.

"You want to talk," Lisa said. It wasn't a question.

Taylor took a deep breath. She trusted Lisa, to a certain extent. But she also knew that things were complicated, behind the curtain.

"I didn't set out to be a villain," Taylor said eventually. Lisa already knew that, but it felt good to say it out loud.

Lisa nodded, sitting down in her desk chair and crossing her legs.

"You know as well as I do that the heroes aren't nearly as virtuous as they pretend to be," Lisa said.

"Yeah."

"And things aren't always what they seem, on the surface," Lisa continued. "People aren't always what they seem. Masks come in all shapes and sizes."

Taylor chewed her lip.

She wanted to push. Wanted to demand answers. But, at the end of the day, Lisa would only give her as much as she wanted to, regardless. There was no point in playing games.

At the end of the day, all that really mattered…

"Can I trust you?" Taylor asked, watching Lisa carefully as she spoke.

Lisa's expression was calm and collected. Taylor couldn't begin to parse what was going on in that brilliant brain of hers. That was part of the problem.

"Trust can mean a lot of things," Lisa replied. "Have I lied to you in the past? Maybe. Will I lie to you in the future? Probably. Everyone lies, with their words and their feelings and their actions. They lie to each other, to themselves. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. My power is very good at pulling apart the threads of the blindfold."

Taylor was already well aware of that.

But, for all her pretty words, Taylor thought Lisa might be lying, herself. All of that sounded a lot like a deflection.

Like Nobody said. Self-delusion was an art form.

"Yes, or no?" Taylor said steadily, keeping her eyes focused on Lisa's bottle green. Not the right shade of green.

It was silent for a long moment. Taylor saw Lisa's throat move as she swallowed dryly.

"Yes," Lisa said.

That might have been a lie, too, but Taylor didn't think so.

"Okay, then," Taylor nodded curtly, and left.

"Let's go home," Taylor thought in Nobody's direction.

"One sec. We've got this match in the bag," Nobody thought, ruthlessly gunning down some unfortunate twelve year old trying to camp in the corner of the map.

"You have until I finish getting the bike ready," Taylor couldn't help but shake her head as she made her way down the stairs.

"Lame."

They didn't complain nearly as much as they used to, though. Taylor counted that as a win.

"We can get Chinese food on the way," Taylor offered as a bribe. She was hungry, and Nobody loved sweet and sour chicken.

Nobody didn't answer, but Taylor could feel an uncertain sort of happiness in the back of their brain.

Nobody did, in fact, finish their match in time.

The best Chinese food places weren't exactly safe, especially this late, but Taylor wasn't worried. She'd enjoy a good scrap if any of the ABB low-lifes got any ideas. They probably wouldn't bother, though. Even the idiots among the gang's rank and file could usually tell when their supposed prey wasn't scared of them. There were easier targets than a pair of black hoodies with suspiciously placed bulges.

Taylor leaned back in the slightly sticky booth while they waited for their food in silence. The half-burnt out lights flickered occasionally.

"Someone's in a weird mood," Nobody commented. Taylor couldn't tell if they meant that for her or themselves.

Nobody wore Taylor's face, tonight. Twins weren't all that uncommon, and it wasn't like the old lady behind the counter would give a shit.

"Just… thinking," Taylor said out loud. Sometimes verbalizing helped.

"Always a dangerous pastime," Nobody thought.

Their food arrived, and Taylor prepared to hand over their body.

"Why do you do that?" Nobody asked before she could take control of the projection.

"Do what?" Taylor said.

She knew exactly what they were asking, but she just didn't…

Taylor sighed, and let this one, comparatively insignificant admission out of the pit.

"You like eating, with our actual body," Taylor allowed herself to think. "It helps you feel real. And I… I want you to feel real, too."

"But I'm not," Nobody pointed out. "I'm you, just better looking."

"You're real, to me," Taylor ignored the second part of their statement.

"I'm just-" Nobody's thoughts were chaotic.

"Shut up and eat our food," Taylor interrupted, reaching for control of the projection again.

This time, Nobody gave up the reins, and Taylor was suddenly sitting across from herself. Nobody stared at her for a long moment, then picked up the chopsticks and took a bite.

"You were right, on Monday," Taylor said while Nobody chewed. "About me. About my control. About being satisfied."

"Wait, wait, wait," Nobody said with their mouth full. "Can you say that one more time, for the camera?"

Taylor rolled her eyes.

"You were right," Taylor repeated for emphasis. "Happy now, asshole?"

Nobody just winked and took another bite.

Taylor took a deep breath.

"I wasn't kidding, when I said it's our life," Taylor continued. "I'm sure I'll fuck it up, again. We both will. We're a mess. But I just… it's our mess. We're in this together. Messes are our specialty, and I don't think that's going to change any time soon."

Nobody stared at her for a long moment.

"Fuck. I don't know how to mock that," they said eventually. "I'm a failure."

Taylor snorted involuntarily.

Then she pulled another question out of the pit. Something she'd refused to consider ever since Nobody first put on Emma's face, that first night in her bedroom.

"What do you want, Nobody?" Taylor asked. "For real. No bullshit."

Nobody blinked. They opened their mouth, her mouth, then closed it again. A couple times.

"I have no fucking idea," they whispered in mild horror.

Taylor nodded silently. That was kind of what she'd figured, but Nobody did an excellent job of not thinking about it.

"I guess we'll have to figure that out, too," Taylor said. "Together."

Nobody took another bite.

And Taylor felt just a little bit lighter.

…

Saturday, April 30th, 2011.

The front door of the Barnes' house was dark green. Taylor hadn't actually noticed that before. Not that it really mattered.

She took a deep breath, the cool morning air filling the depths of her lungs. Freshly mown grass and daffodils. Zoe always liked to keep the yard and flowerbeds looking put together.

The days since Bakuda's jailbreak had been… good. Which was weird. And it was weird because it was weird.

Taylor got up and took the bus to school. She hung out with Emma between classes and sat with the trio at lunch. Sophia still glared daggers at her, but she didn't protest or give Taylor any shit aside from the occasional reminder not to break their civilian truce.

Wasn't that a kick in the spine all on its own. It was better than the torture, than being alone, but…

Well, her feelings were still complicated, to say the least.

She told herself it was worth it, though. To be able to reach out and touch Emma any time she wanted, even if all she could handle was the occasional brush on the back of her hand or loose hug from behind.

Baby steps.

At least Emma knew better than to make any moves of her own. Taylor was in charge, and Emma knew it.

And now…

Taylor knew she had to take this step eventually. A test for herself, and Emma, in multiple ways.

She raised her hand, and knocked on the door.

Zoe's face appeared in the rippled, decorative glass pane. Taylor saw her freeze for a split second before the door opened.

"Taylor! Oh my gosh, it's been so long. Is everything…" Zoe trailed off, seemingly unsure how to address Taylor's sudden and supposedly permanent absence from Emma's life.

A sad smile crept onto Taylor's face without her permission. Even after everything Emma had done, Zoe still felt like home.

It also made her chest ache, a bit. It wasn't only Emma she'd lost, that day. She'd lost part of her family, again, and her dad was…

He tried. Sometimes.

Taylor shook off the melancholic thoughts.

"Everything's good," Taylor said. And for once, it was. Mostly. "Is Emma here?"

Taylor already knew she was, but it seemed like the polite thing to ask. Better than 'I spend most of my free time using my parahuman projection to stalk your daughter'.

"I don't know, let me-" Zoe started, looking nervous. It stung, a bit, that Zoe would probably lie for Emma if Emma didn't actually want to see her.

But then Emma bounced around the corner with a weird, manic grin on her face, and Taylor's heart stuttered unevenly.

"Tay! I didn't know you were coming today," Emma exclaimed excitedly.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

Taylor had no idea if this was a facade or just another facet of the real Emma, but it didn't matter.

Before she could respond, Emma took a weird, half-step forward, her arms twitching. Like she wanted to…

Oh.

Taylor didn't know what to think about that. Didn't know what to…

For a moment, she saw the same flash of hurt and disappointment in Emma's eyes, and for once… It didn't feel good.

Fuck.

Her stomach flipped, moths fluttering through her veins, but fuck it. She wanted this. She deserved this, regardless of what Emma had done. What she was.

Taylor stepped forward, keeping her eyes fixed on Emma's face, and wrapped her arms carefully around Emma's waist.

The cracked, euphoric look was back, even though Taylor could see something dark and possessive underneath.

Then Emma threw her arms around Taylor's neck and buried her face in her collarbone, and Taylor decided that she didn't care. Emma was broken, and awful, and Taylor loved her anyway.

Taylor caught Zoe's eye over the top of Emma's head, a look of stunned disbelief on her face.

A wild, swooping sort of elation surged through Taylor's bones. It wasn't the same as before, but this felt… good. Right. Being here, being with Emma, being…

So, without thinking about it too hard, Taylor winked at her.

Emma's mother blinked, then put a hand over her mouth to smother her wide smile.

Taylor released Emma's waist and gently maneuvered her backwards. Emma's automatic pout quickly turned back into a hungry half-smile when Taylor caught a hold of her hand instead, threading their fingers together.

Emma's skin still burned. Even just the soft touch of her fingers was enough to sink into Taylor's muscles and tendons and bones and set up a permanent residence there.

"Let's go for a walk," Taylor said. It wasn't a question. Emma didn't want questions, and Taylor didn't want to ask permission for anything from her.

Emma raised an eyebrow, but her smile didn't waver.

"Okay," Emma said.

"Have fun!" Zoe called from behind them as Taylor tugged Emma out the door.

Taylor waited until they passed the gate at the end of the driveway, just in case.

"Does she know?" Taylor asked, letting her eyes flick from Emma to the front door and back.

"Hell no," Emma laughed. She seemed more carefree than usual, today. It was intoxicating. "I had to explain why you weren't around anymore, but they just thought I dropped you like a hot rock."

Taylor's hand tightened automatically at the reminder. Everything with Emma was so fucking sharp.

Emma noticed, and her smile turned dark. An edge of gleeful sadism lurked under the surface, leaking through onto her lips.

"Do you wish I had? Dropped you, I mean? Left you alone, and never looked back?" Emma said.

And just like that, the anger and sawblades surged in Taylor's veins. She couldn't fucking stand that smile on Emma's face for a single second longer.

They were on the sidewalk that ran along the edge of the park. Emma squeaked in surprise as Taylor dragged her off the pavement and towards the edge of the woods. The hand holding Emma's became a vice grip to pin Emma's arm behind her back, pushing her chest against the nearest tree. Taylor caught Emma by her hair as she spun, pulling her head back by the roots so she didn't hit her face on the rough bark.

Emma's ragged gasp was fucking music.

"No," Taylor hissed in her ear. "No, I fucking don't. But you might wish you had, by the time I'm done with you."

"Never," Emma breathed.

Taylor tightened her grip, for emphasis. She heard the air rush from Emma's lungs, both from the pressure against the tree and something else entirely.

"Never," Emma repeated again. "Never, never…"

And fuck if that wasn't addicting.

The pale, perfect skin on Emma's neck was right there, exposed by Taylor's grip on her hair, and Taylor couldn't resist. Like water circling a drain, drawing her in, the irrepressible gravity of an orbiting star.

She bit Emma, hard, right at the crook of her neck, and Taylor burned. She locked her lips over Emma's skin, tasting her. Marking her. The scent of cherries and almonds consumed her, drowning her.

Emma whined, high pitched and probably too loud, and it only threw fuel on Taylor's fire.

"Nevernevernevernever-"

It had never been like this, before. They'd been too soft. Too whole.

Now, they could be broken, together.

It was hard, so fucking hard, to pull away, but Taylor had other reasons for visiting Emma today. Plus, they were barely off the sidewalk.

Taylor let Emma's hair go carefully, so she didn't fall forward into the tree, then let their joined hands return to their sides. Emma's face was bright red, which was gorgeous, but Taylor smoothed her own expression out before taking a step back and pulling Emma back out onto the sidewalk by her hand.

Like nothing happened. Just going for a walk.

But Emma's eyes were sparkling, and Taylor couldn't help but feel a bit pleased with herself. If this was what it could be like, with this Emma…

She may not ever want to let go.

"Come on," Taylor said. "We need to talk."

…

Saturday, April 30th, 2011.

Nobody waited patiently on the picnic table in the park while Taylor went all vampire on her masochistic not-girlfriend. They tried not to intrude, but still… they would always know.

They wore Taylor's face again, today. It would be easier to explain like that. Plus, it was a habit, at this point.

It's our life.

Was it really?

Taylor was real, and they were just…

Just what?

Her power? A pale reflection in a broken mirror?

They usually just tried not to think about it. It was easier to keep moving forward. Rolling stones and dodging moss and whatnot.

But no, Taylor had to get all introspective and shit, and now they couldn't put the existential crisis back in the box where it belonged.

Whatever.

Taylor and Emma wandered into view, and Nobody saw themselves through Taylor's eyes. Sitting on the wooden tabletop under one of the scattered, permanent pavilions, elbows braced against their knees.

They idly wondered if Emma would try to kill them, again. Taylor was currently wearing their real body. Ironically, it was safer that way, when Emma was involved.

"Got a bit distracted, did we?" Nobody quipped to Taylor internally.

"Fuck off," Taylor thought back, but Nobody could feel the deep happiness underneath, even if Taylor wouldn't acknowledge it herself.

Everything Taylor felt for Emma was intense, good and bad. The highest highs and the lowest lows. Nobody could understand why she was so reluctant to give it up. Everything else felt washed out, hollow, by comparison.

Not that they would ever be willing to put up with Emma's specific brand of crazy, personally, but they wouldn't begrudge Taylor this. Even if they had to remember.

Which was the whole point of this 'meeting'.

There were lines even Nobody didn't want to cross, and this was one of them. If they were a real person, especially if they were a real person, Emma deserved to know before things went any further. Even if she was a monster.

Because, clearly, Taylor couldn't help herself.

Taylor rolled her eyes at them before glancing at Emma.

"Official introductions, with no knives or guns or grenades," Taylor said.

Holy shit, was that a joke? That was almost a joke. They grow up so fast.

"Emma, this is Nobody," Taylor took a steadying breath. "Nobody already knows you, because our power links us together. They know everything I know, remember everything I remember, and vice versa."

Emma's eyebrows creeped closer to her hairline the longer Taylor spoke.

"Everything?" Emma asked flatly.

"Everything."

Taylor managed to say it calmly, even though Nobody could feel the conflict churning underneath. Taylor knew this was the right thing to do, but part of her still wanted to just ignore this consequence of their connection and keep Emma in the dark. She justified it by comparing it to all the awful shit Emma had done in the past, but Nobody knew that was bullshit.

"Well, that's… fucking awkward," Emma said eventually.

Nobody laughed. They couldn't help it.

"Awkward for you? I'm the one who has to sit and twiddle my thumbs in the park while you-"

"Not helping," Taylor cut them off.

"Just me and my cuck picnic table-"

"Enough, Nobody," Taylor whined, but Emma actually laughed. Nice to know that even under all the layers of bitchiness, Taylor's demon-bae had a sense of humor.

Score one-zero for Nobody. Ha.

"Look. I still don't trust you," Taylor turned to Emma. "But, for some fucking reason, I'm still here. We're still here. And I don't think you actually want to kill me, so it's easier if you know what's going on. That way you don't accidentally kill us both if you go off the fucking deep end again."

"Kill you both?" Emma asked, glancing between Nobody and Taylor in confusion.

"Yeah. I'm not going to give you all the details, since I'm sure you'd just relay them to Sophia, and I don't want her getting any ideas, but…" Taylor trailed off and bit her lip.

"Swap?" Taylor asked in the back of their mind.

"Your funeral," Nobody chuckled internally.

Taylor reached out and took control of their projection, and suddenly Nobody was holding Emma's hand.

Emma flinched and let go immediately, stepping away like their touch burned her.

Which was better than getting shot, all things considered.

"See?" Taylor said out loud, hopping down off the picnic table. "Connected. Two minds, two bodies."

Emma's eyes flicked between them again.

Then she shrugged nonchalantly.

"I should have already guessed, after lunch the other day. About the mind-link thing, I mean," she said.

"You're… okay with this, then?" Taylor asked, uncertainty breaking into her tone for the first time.

Emma stalked towards Taylor with a dark gleam in her eye. Nobody was quietly happy that Taylor was piloting their projection, currently. Just in case Emma stabbed her again. Less messy, that way.

"I hate that any part of you belongs to anyone else," Emma hissed. "If I could cut them out of you piece by bloody piece, I would, in a heartbeat."

"You sure can choose 'em, Tay," Nobody whistled in their shared mind.

"Shut up."

"But I can't, apparently," Emma said in a normal tone, like flipping a light switch. "So I'll take what I can get. I didn't go to all this trouble to be put off by a bit of parahuman voyeurism at this point."

Nobody snorted. Taylor just looked dumbstruck. It was kind of funny.

Actually, it was a lot funny. Nobody laughed again.

Then Emma started laughing, too. She had a pretty laugh, for a psychopath.

Taylor couldn't help but join in, and they didn't stop for a weirdly long time.

"Okay, fuck, that wasn't actually funny," Taylor wheezed after she recovered enough to talk.

"I missed your laugh. I like hearing you laugh almost as much as making you cry," Emma said, like that was a totally normal statement.

"I fucking hate you, Emmi," Taylor sighed, just shaking her head instead of burning up from the inside like she usually did.

"You love me," Emma grinned.

"I can do both," Taylor muttered.

Then she froze, inside and out, as her words sunk in.

Emma froze, too.

"Really?" Emma asked softly.

It was like watching badminton with a live grenade instead of a shuttle.

Taylor let out a slow breath.

"Don't let it go to your head. You don't deserve my forgiveness, or anything else, and I don't know if you'll ever get it," Taylor said coldly.

"But you still love me, anyway," Emma said with a smug smile. It wasn't really a question.

Taylor closed her eyes for a long moment.

"Yes. I do. Happy?" Taylor bit out, still not opening her eyes.

"Extremely," Emma chirped, bouncing slightly in place.

"Fuck you-"

"You know the-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, just… God, shut the fuck up," Taylor cut her off.

Nobody chuckled again. Emma and Taylor both jumped a bit. They must have forgotten about their audience.

Handy skill to have. Might put a damper on things, otherwise.

They all just stared at each other for a long moment.

Nobody didn't know what to say, so they improvised.

"Want to get coffee? Our treat," they offered casually.

Taylor groaned. Emma blinked.

"Okay," Emma said.

"Really?" Taylor's eyes widened.

"Sure, why not? I'll text Sophia and Mads."

"Oh, that's fantastic, please do," Nobody cackled.

"Absolutely not," Taylor said at the same moment.

Emma glanced over at them, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Sorry, Tay. I think you're outvoted," Emma said.

Nobody laughed again. This was going to be fun.

"Oh, God…" Taylor breathed, almost to herself. "What have I done?"

…

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011.

It was just before midnight when Taylor finally stopped driving. She didn't even know what she was looking for.

She just wanted to be somewhere… away. Somewhere not here. Somewhere that didn't have any ghosts. Not Emma's messy bedroom, not her own lonely sheets… away from the prying eyes and flickering fluorescent lights at Winslow.

Driving helped. The black road flying by under the tires. Shifting gears and keeping the bike upright took just enough of her attention that she couldn't fall too deeply into anything she didn't want to think about.

That, and the heat of Emma's body melted against her back. That helped, too.

It shouldn't. She knew it shouldn't feel this good. Knew that Emma had hurt her in the worst possible ways, betrayed her, broken her, stuffed her into that metal box filled with blood and trash and acid and made sure no one helped. No one cared.

And none of that changed the fact that Taylor missed her.

God, she missed her so fucking much.

It should matter that this Emma wasn't her Emma, anymore. The Emma that currently clung to her back was serrated sawblades and jagged glass.

It shouldn't make her heart hammer, knowing that this Emma could be her Emma, if Taylor wanted her. If she reached out and took her, a poisoned flower on a vine made of thorns. Emma had made that abundantly clear.

Taylor wanted that. Wanted her.

So fucking badly.

Hating herself for it wouldn't change that.

They were north of the Graveyard, now. The abandoned warehouses of the Docks gave way to empty stretches of undeveloped forest, crumbling parking lots, and barely functional desalination plants. They wound their way up the coastline, following the bends of the two lane industrial roads that rarely saw any traffic aside from maintenance vehicles and delivery trucks.

A barely grated gravel parking lot to the right caught Taylor's eye. It was empty, and one edge fell away sharply towards the ocean.

She brought the bike carefully to a stop on the uneven rocks, bracing the kickstand against one of the more solid remaining pieces of asphalt. They were far from any working streetlights. The moon was a thin sliver, high overhead.

Emma didn't move, even after the bike stopped. Her fists were clenched tightly around the folds of Taylor's jacket, braced against the hard lines of her stomach.

Taylor allowed herself another few seconds, just to enjoy the warmth. But, as always, warm became hot became unbearable, and suddenly she was trapped and-

"Let go."

Taylor was proud of how level her voice sounded, given the turmoil churning in her gut.

Surprisingly, Emma did as she was told. Her fingers came free and her weight left Taylor's back, and Taylor breathed a sigh that might have been relief or disappointment. She honestly wasn't sure which, anymore.

Taylor took her helmet off and kicked her leg over the bike. She stretched the residual aches from her limbs, inevitable after the last… she didn't even know how long they'd been driving. An hour, maybe.

Nobody was on the roof of an abandoned gas station a couple hundred yards up the road, lying on their back and watching the stars. Taylor could remember them deciding to keep their thoughts as quiet and empty as possible, so she could have her moment with Emma. It was almost… sweet, and Taylor didn't know what to do with that.

She'd think about it later.

Taylor walked towards the edge of the parking lot. An old rusted rebar fence was the only thing between them and a long drop to the ocean.

"So, what are we-" Emma started.

"Shut up," Taylor cut her off. She didn't want to talk. Didn't want to think about this too hard.

Didn't want to think about anything.

She ducked under the fence and tested one of the massive, crumbling concrete blocks with her foot before sitting down, her feet dangling over the edge.

"Sit with me," Taylor said. She tried to make it sound like an order, but a tremor in her voice betrayed her. She couldn't look at Emma, just staring out over the black water instead.

She could still feel Emma's presence, though, like a miniature sun that never stopped burning. Emma didn't try to touch her, but she was close. Always so close.

Taylor's eyes finished adjusting to the dark, and she could just make out the movement of the waves, the dark clouds that dusted the horizon. There were a lot more stars out here.

She was still so… so angry, so frustrated, so… something she couldn't even put a name to. Emma was at the center of everything, the eye of Taylor's personal hurricane that spiraled outwards into the rest of her life, leaving broken houses and scattered debris in her wake.

But this felt… okay. She could put all of that aside for a while, and pretend. Pretend Emma was her Emma, again.

Maybe she was. Not like she was before, but… maybe Emma never stopped being hers, as absurd as it sounded.

Taylor let herself fall backwards against the uneven concrete. Her hair would get dirty, caught in the gravel, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Emma was still upright, her legs tucked up against her chest. The meager moonlight reflected off her hair, shiny and straight down her back.

Taylor never asked her why she'd cut it, that day. Emma loved her hair.

So, so many things she'd never asked. Never gotten the chance to. Never understood why. Why was it over? Why would she…

Emma turned, the profile of her perfect face silhouetted against the stars. Even in the dark, Taylor knew every freckle. The exact line of her carefully threaded eyebrows. The way her lips curved, cruel and sharp and soft all at the same time.

Then Emma leaned back, too, turning on her side so she faced Taylor. Taylor adjusted her own body automatically, involuntarily, so they mirrored each other. She couldn't help herself. They were like stars, orbiting constantly. The never-ending dance that Taylor couldn't bring herself to abandon, even if part of her still knew she should.

Emma didn't try to touch her, and Taylor was thankful. It would have broken the spell, would have burned too hot, and Taylor would have pushed her away again.

So they just floated in silence, on the cold, broken ground, and Taylor let herself get lost. It was too dark to see the shades of brilliant emerald, but Taylor could imagine. She could remember.

Green was her favorite color.

They hadn't done this before. Even years ago, it hadn't felt like this. They always talked, always something. They'd never just… stopped, like this. Let everything else fall away.

Taylor stared into Emma's eyes in silence. For a minute. For five minutes. She had no idea, anymore. Time didn't matter.

A strange, tense sort of feeling grew in her chest with every passing moment. Almost anxiety, but not… unpleasant. Just present.

Did Emma feel it, too?

Maybe she did. She wasn't looking away, either.

Did Emma miss her, too? Even as she broke her, tormented her, tortured her?

It wasn't fair.

The tightness in her chest crescendoed. The moths in her stomach clawed their way up her throat.

"I miss you," Taylor whispered. Present tense. "All the time. Every day."

She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Didn't trust Emma. Didn't want to give her any more fuel for when she inevitably turned Taylor's affection against her.

What did it even matter, though? What could Emma do to her that she hadn't already done? It wasn't like she could hurt her any worse.

Emma's expression was frozen. Empty. She stared into Taylor's eyes with a bewildered, haunted gaze.

Then it happened. Something Taylor thought… was sure… she would never see again.

Emma started to cry.

Taylor's heart pounded in her ears, in her chest, in her fingertips.

Emma didn't close her eyes, didn't look away, didn't move, even as choked, ugly sobs forced their way out of her throat. It was a strange sort of conflict, the contrast between Emma's hollow, unblinking stare and the convulsions wracking her chest. Taylor could only watch as tears poured sideways down her face and into her hair, both of them still lying on their sides in the cracked parking lot.

It was horrible. It was beautiful. Taylor couldn't look away.

And fuck if she knew what she was feeling. Part of her wanted to pull Emma against her chest and never, ever let go. Part of her wanted to laugh and drive the knives deeper, force burning salt into the core of Emma's heart so she'd understand exactly what she'd done, that some scars would never, ever heal.

It was just… too much.

So Taylor didn't do either of those things. She didn't let herself think about tomorrow, or about yesterday, or about the years of pain, or what came next.

She didn't close the gap between them, to hurt or to help.

She just watched, in silence, while Emma cried.

And neither of them looked away.

…

Notes:

The whiplash between Taylor and Nobody's perspectives continues to be fun for me. We go from "cuck picnic table" to "I miss you. All the time." in just a few hundred words. Phew. I had fun with this chapter, though. Taylor and Emma circle closer. One less problematic secret is out of the bag. Unfortunately for Taylor, Nobody can actually interact with the trio, which is going to be... interesting. For her. Also, Nobody may have made the crack about Emma being a biter, but it turns out its Taylor. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody says that if you drink blue Gatorade, you're a cop. Sorry, they don't make the rules.

Chapter 14: Shatter 3.2

Shatter 3.2

Saturday, April 30, 2011.

The outdoor patio of Déjà Brew coffee lounge was packed. The Saturday morning crowds were just beginning to spread to the rest of the Boardwalk.

"Look what the cat dragged- oh my God, what is that?" Madison exclaimed.

Taylor pushed down the automatic surge of apprehension at the sight of her former tormentor. Madison hadn't been as blatant as Emma or Sophia, but all the little injuries added up.

What was Madison so worked up about, anyway?

Taylor followed Madison's raised eyebrows to Emma and…

Oh. Right. The mark on Emma's neck was a bit obvious.

Emma blushed but just smiled brightly. So fucking pleased with herself.

Her expression made Taylor want to bite her all over again. Turn that smile into the ragged gasp that still haunted her.

Nobody chuckled from behind them, and Taylor sent a vague feeling of disapproval their way.

Honestly, though… What had she been thinking? She'd been avoiding anything close to kissing Emma, limiting her skin contact. Baby steps. Keeping her distance. Keeping the gloves on to avoid getting burned. Well, aside from whatever that moment of insanity was on Tuesday night, after their motorcycle ride, but that was emotional rather than physical. It was different.

And now, apparently, she just dragged Emma off the sidewalk and gave her fucking hickies whenever she wanted? Getting coffee with Emma, Madison, and Nobody. Like that was fucking normal at all. What the fuck was wrong with her?

At least Sophia hadn't shown up. Jesus Christ.

Nobody wore one of their favorite bodies, instead of her own. It would be awkward if anyone from school saw two copies of her, just in case. They were short, with a white-blonde pixie cut, and delicate features. Nobody was still a vain little shit.

There weren't enough tables, so the unusual group leaned against the railing at the edge of the outdoor seating area. The morning sun glinted off the cold waves of the Bay.

"Nobody, could you-" Taylor asked, sending the wordless request between their shared mind.

Easier all the time.

Nobody grinned and formed a copy of one of Emma's usual infinity scarves. It even matched Emma's cardigan.

"Of course it does," Nobody thought. "Some of us actually care about how we look."

Taylor glared at them. They knew exactly why she dressed the way she did, and she wasn't about to change on their account. Or Emma's.

Nobody bounced up and looped the scarf over Emma's head from behind.

"There. Now you won't look like you got mauled by a tiger," Nobody chirped.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Madison narrowed her eyes at the sudden appearance of both the scarf and Nobody.

"I'm Nobody. We met on the roof. Kinky hair pulling?" Nobody smiled crookedly.

This was a mistake.

"Oh," Madison blinked but recovered quickly. "Sorry, I didn't recognize you without the cigarettes and grenades."

"Excuse me for wanting to accessorize," Nobody quipped.

"Wait, your name is Nobody? Is that, like your codename, or…" Madison asked, glancing around the crowded patio.

"Sort of. Taylor came up with it," Nobody smirked.

"Oh, I get it. Nerd," Madison shook her head.

"Actually, I think she was just being a bitch, at the time," Nobody commented idly.

Taylor gritted her teeth. Words like that, to Madison of all people, hit a bit close to home. Her hand tightened around her chai tea, which wasn't even real tea.

Luckily for Nobody's jaw, the wind picked up and Emma chose that moment to lean over and burrow into Taylor's hoodie. Everything even vaguely resembling a coherent thought promptly vacated her head.

Her arm curled around Emma automatically, pulling her closer until Emma was tucked against her side.

The touch burned, even through so many layers, but it felt so fucking good Taylor couldn't bring herself to care. Even the littlest things were fresh, and new, after so long. Like each piece slotting back into place made it easier to breathe, even while it burned her.

"I got sidetracked," Madison said, refocusing on Emma. "So what's the story?"

"Leave it, Mads," Emma said from under Taylor's chin, pressing her face into Taylor's neck.

Cherries and almonds. Again.

The unwelcome memories hit Taylor like a truck every time, and she just couldn't quite keep a lid on things nearly as well anymore. Not when anything and everything tried to pry open the lid.

"Oh, c'mon," Madison whined. "My shit is so boring. I haven't gotten caught in the crossfire of your toxic minefield of a relationship in, like, three whole days."

Taylor considered protesting that there wasn't any relationship, toxic minefield or otherwise, but…

I miss you. All the time.

Fuck.

"Delusions, delusions," Nobody thought in a sing-song voice in the back of her head.

"Shut up before I step on you, Jiminy Cricket," Taylor grumbled internally.

"Kinky. I'm sure Emma would-"

Taylor forcibly wrenched her attention away from that thought.

"Emma just needs a reminder, sometimes," Taylor said.

That sounded worse out loud than it did in her head. Shit.

Emma flushed red and ducked her head, though, so Taylor counted that as a win.

"Wow, okay, you know what, I changed my mind. Forget I asked," Madison said, taking a sip of her iced coffee.

Then Madison asked Emma about some modeling gig she had coming up, and Emma started complaining about contract stipulations, and Taylor let herself drift into the background again. She still felt like this most of the time, at school, like she was on the outside looking in. Like something was broken, missing, a thin sheet of warped glass between her and the rest of the world. It was difficult for her to actually care.

But Emma was warm against her side, her hair soft against her neck. Their fingers were still intertwined, and Taylor allowed herself to draw soft, random patterns on the back of Emma's hand with her thumb.

And maybe that was enough. For now.

…

Saturday, April 30, 2011.

"Walk with me?" Emma asked.

Taylor pulled her mind back to the present. Emma stepped out from under her arm, but kept a tight grip on her hand. Like she was worried Taylor might float away, without an anchor.

Or run, of course.

Emerald depths found her own, again, almost glowing in the sun, and Taylor knew, deep down, that she wasn't going anywhere. Not without Emma.

It shouldn't be a relief, just to think that to herself, but it was. Delusions, like Nobody said.

Taylor wasn't sure if she'd been deluding herself before, or if she was deluding herself now.

Either way, she couldn't help the way holding Emma's hand made her feel.

"You know, I always thought I was going to end up the third wheel to you and Sophia," Madison observed idly in Emma's direction from where she leaned against the railing.

Taylor glared over her shoulder at her, but Nobody just laughed.

"There's still time," Nobody grinned. "Something, something, parahuman voyeurism?"

Taylor and Emma both flipped Nobody off at the same time, and Emma smiled up at her. Taylor felt a weird twisting in her chest.

"I honestly can't tell if you're cute or terrifying together," Madison said.

"Join the club," Nobody sighed. "You want to shop while they go stare wistfully into each other's eyes?"

"Sure! Aren't you, like, a shape-shifter or something, though?" Madison asked.

"Some people pirate music; I pirate clothes," Nobody said. "And faces."

"Oh, that's convenient. So can you, like…"

Emma tugged on Taylor's hand, and she let herself get pulled away from Nobody and Madison's mildly concerning conversation. Nobody was going to spill the beans, and then Madison would…

What? Tell Sophia?

Taylor could handle Sophia. She'd proven that to herself, and Sophia, multiple times over.

They walked in silence for a while, side by side down the wooden planks of the Boardwalk.

Taylor felt like she should say something, but nothing sounded right.

How did she say that she didn't know how to do this? Didn't know how to be with Emma again, after everything that had happened between them?

Emma seemed… different, after their night in the broken parking lot. She was still cracked, and cruel, but more… happy?

Happy didn't feel like the right word, but it almost fit. Satisfied?

"Tell me something," Emma said quietly.

"What?"

"Anything. Just… something I don't know. Some piece of you I'm missing," Emma's eyes flicked over to her for a split second before looking away, out over the Bay.

"Why do you care?" Taylor spat automatically.

"You know why."

She did. It was just easier not to think about it.

Taylor wracked her brain for something she could tell Emma that wouldn't leave a ragged wound behind.

There wasn't much to tell. Emma was there for everything, before, and her life had been so painful and empty, afterwards…

"Nobody hates getting wet, and we can't go very far from each other," Taylor said eventually. "And one night, back in January, right after…"

Taylor couldn't bring herself to talk about the locker. Not with Emma.

"They were being especially shitty, and we were both screaming, and it was… We were in the Docks, by the Graveyard. I had to get away from the house, but of course Nobody came with me, and I was a little out of my mind, with everything," Taylor bit her lip to keep from grinning at the memory. It wasn't really a happy one. "So I just… jumped in the water."

"Really?" Emma raised an eyebrow, but she didn't seem all that surprised.

"Yeah. It was fucking cold. And I just started swimming, because I knew that eventually, if I got far enough out, Nobody wouldn't have anywhere to teleport, and they'd end up in the water, too. And they'd hate it. It felt like a worthwhile trade-off," Taylor said.

"Was it?" Emma asked curiously.

Taylor shrugged.

"Sort of? I got what I wanted. But I also went into shock. From the cold, I guess. Nobody had to swim us both back to shore."

Taylor left out the deep, all-consuming relief, when the frigid water closed over her head. That was between her and Nobody.

They stopped at a corner of the wooden walkway. Taylor turned and braced both hands on the railing, trapping Emma between her and the wooden bars. Emma turned towards the Bay and melted back against her automatically, like they'd been doing it for years and not days.

She needed to say something. Needed to find a way to get this iron weight out of her stomach. It wasn't like she could fuck this up worse than Emma already had.

"How the fuck is this going to work, Emmi?" Taylor asked in a low voice. "How do we do… this, again?"

"I don't know," Emma shrugged into her. "I didn't exactly plan this far ahead."

"Your plan was fucking terrible," Taylor muttered. Understatement of the century.

"It worked, didn't it?" Emma said.

Fuck.

God, she still hated Emma sometimes. It was like Emma couldn't go five minutes without tearing her apart again.

Taylor knew she should walk away. Just like she knew she wouldn't. Couldn't.

Emma turned in her arms, reaching up to grab handfuls of Taylor's hoodie, and suddenly Emma's face was very close.

Everything burned. Taylor could count the faint freckles scattered over Emma's pale skin. Could see where she'd used her makeup to smooth over the bags under her eyes. Perfect, shining green green green-

"We could start with this?" Emma whispered. Her breath washed over Taylor's lips, smothering her in peppermint mocha and Emma.

Taylor's stomach twisted itself into a knot and suddenly her hands weren't on the railing anymore. They moved of their own accord to pull Emma's hips tighter against her own, sliding under Emma's cardigan. The thin strip of skin above the waist of her jeans was so fucking soft under Taylor's fingertips.

Screaming, pounding on the locked metal door, begging someone to help, to care, anyone-

Taylor ripped herself backwards out of Emma's grasp. The force of the movement sent Emma stumbling across the Boardwalk. Her arms flailed as she tried to catch herself on a bench, but she missed and ended up crashing to the wooden planks in a disheveled heap.

Cold air tore out of Taylor's throat with every rapid exhale, the fire and Emma's breath combining into a nauseating rock in the pit of her gut. Taylor spun, tearing her eyes away from Emma's crumpled form, and braced her hands on the railing. She locked down her stomach muscles to avoid being sick again. It just barely worked.

Once she was sure that her tea wasn't about to make an unwelcome reappearance, Taylor opened her eyes.

Emma pulled herself to her feet and stood a few feet away, frozen and unsure. Her hands were slightly raised in something that could be a placating gesture.

"Tay, I-"

"Don't," Taylor cut her off coldly. "Don't call me that. Not right now."

"Okay," Emma said.

That wasn't enough.

"Do you know? Do you know what you did to me? How you…" Taylor couldn't finish.

They both just stared for a long moment.

"Yes," Emma whispered. Her expression was blank, unreadable. "Yeah, I do."

Taylor turned fully to face her, forcing her spine straight.

"Then how could you? If you supposedly fucking love me?" Taylor demanded.

"Because I needed it!" Emma screamed suddenly, pain along with something twisted and dark burning behind her eyes. Multiple groups of shoppers stopped and stared, but Taylor didn't care. "I needed to feel… I needed…"

Emma sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. The cracked stare was back, her gaze unfocused and wild.

"Hurting you made me feel alive, again."

Taylor's fingernails dug into her palms. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and not because they were cruel and insane. Even though they definitely were.

It hurt because she understood.

And that was so, so much worse.

"Everything okay over here?" A deliberately calm voice called from behind them.

Oh, you've got to be shitting me.

She'd seen pictures online. Seen the Wards merchandise and read up on their powers as part of her research before going out that first night. Her little notebook, when she still thought Specter and Reboot would be two different heroes.

What a joke.

The Wards always did Boardwalk patrols on the weekends. Generally safe, and good publicity. Plus, no school.

Aegis' bright red costume was eye-catching. How had she missed him approaching?

And, standing with her arms crossed behind him…

Well, that explained why Sophia didn't tag along for coffee.

Taylor's eyes jumped back to Emma. Taylor felt raw, exposed, like everything was just too-

Emma's facade slammed firmly into place, and, for once, Taylor was grateful.

"Oh my God, you're Aegis!" Emma gushed, no trace of the previous anguish in her tone. "This is so cool! Sorry for yelling, I just get excited sometimes and I… Shadow Stalker, too! Best day ever, I'm a huge fan. Can I get a selfie?"

Taylor snorted, despite the roiling turmoil in her stomach. She couldn't help herself.

"Oh, um… Yeah, sure, why not?" Aegis looked non-plussed by the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Motherfucker," Sophia muttered, low enough that Taylor barely caught it.

Aegis shot her a reproving look.

Emma giggled. It was slightly disturbing.

"All good?" Nobody chimed in from the boutique down the road.

"Yes. Definitely. Don't you dare fuck this up. I'm in civies. Emma's here. No improv allowed," Taylor sent back as seriously as she could.

At least Nobody got the message, even though Taylor could feel them keeping a close eye out, ready to pop at a moment's notice.

Emma fished her phone out of her back pocket and took the requested selfie with Aegis. Sophia was technically lurking in the background.

"You're sure-" Aegis started, glancing between Emma and Taylor with concern.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, we're perfect," Emma chirped, bouncing back over and slotting herself under Taylor's arm. Taylor tightened her grip on Emma's shoulder involuntarily.

And fuck, that shouldn't feel so good.

Taylor could feel Sophia glaring at her from behind her mask. It was kind of funny, actually.

The adrenaline and fire and salt still burned in her veins.

Taylor turned her head, still eyeing Sophia, and pressed her lips into the side of Emma's head.

She also adjusted her grip in just the right way so Emma's gifted scarf slipped. Not enough that anyone else would notice the mark underneath.

But Sophia did. Taylor could tell from the way her shoulders stiffened.

Emma's facade didn't break, but she did shoot Taylor a raised eyebrow.

Taylor didn't care.

"We're good. Thank you for your service," Taylor said. "I appreciate everything you do for the city."

Emma almost broke. Her lips twitched.

"I'm so proud," Nobody wiped away a fake tear. "Tell Sophia that I want a selfie, too."

"Absolutely not."

One day, Sophia was going to spontaneously combust. Or try to murder her in her sleep.

"Just doing our jobs," Aegis said.

Taylor liked to imagine she could hear Sophia's teeth grinding.

"Thanks, bye!" Emma waved enthusiastically. She pulled Taylor along casually by the arm.

They walked in silence until they were well out of earshot. Emma continued to cling to Taylor's arm, her head against Taylor's shoulder, fingers still interlaced, like it was something they did every day.

Taylor wanted it to be.

The realization hit harder than she expected. She already knew how she felt, it wasn't that different, but just…

She wanted this. Wanted Emma. It was a horrible idea, and she didn't care.

Taylor glanced down at Emma, and green eyes were already staring back.

The corner of her lip curled upwards.

Emma giggled. It sounded real, this time.

Taylor couldn't help herself, either. The whole situation was so ridiculous.

They both started to laugh, and the knot in Taylor's chest slowly loosened.

…

Saturday, April 30, 2011.

Taylor kicked her shoes off in the front hall of Emma's house.

The little things kept sneaking up on her. Like remembering that Zoe didn't like them wearing shoes inside.

"Emma?" Zoe called from the kitchen.

Even the smell was the same.

"Hey, Mom," Emma answered casually, dragging Taylor up the stairs by her hand.

It felt good to be back, even if it shouldn't. Some things never changed.

Taylor felt Nobody light a cigarette, sitting on their picnic table in the park. Madison had gotten picked up from the Boardwalk, and now they were bored, even if they were trying not to be annoying about it. Taylor put them out of her mind for now. She deserved her time with Emma, and she'd work on figuring out what Nobody wanted for themselves later.

"Is Taylor staying for dinner?" Zoe poked her head around the corner, and Taylor felt five years old again.

Fuck.

Emma raised her eyebrows at her questioningly.

Could she last that long? Did she want to?

She could always just leave early, if she needed to. Zoe would understand.

"Sure, if that's okay," Taylor said.

"Of course!" Zoe smiled widely, her eyes jumping between Emma and Taylor and their joined hands.

"Thanks, Zoe," Taylor couldn't help but smile back. Just a bit.

"You're very welcome."

Emma tugged on her hand, and Taylor followed her up the stairs.

She'd been to Emma's bedroom multiple times in the last couple weeks, but this felt… different. She was here for real, not just with her real body, but as Taylor.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Emma locked the door behind them, and Taylor repressed a flinch.

She was in control, here. Nobody could appear in an instant. Emma couldn't hurt her. Emma was locking the door to keep others out, not to keep her in.

Which was a different kind of apprehension. Or excitement. Taylor couldn't tell which.

Nothing had changed, and yet, everything had. Emma's unmade bed was still a nest of pillows, stuffed animals, and discarded clothes. Taylor ran her fingers over a half-folded shirt.

"Do you still throw all your clothes on the bed when you get ready in the morning?" Taylor asked quietly. "And move them all back to the floor to sleep every night?"

Emma laughed and grabbed an armload of clothes off the bed, throwing them back onto the floor by the closet to make space.

"Inefficient," Taylor muttered.

"It works! I have a system," Emma grinned, sitting down on the bed and pushing herself backwards so she could fold herself into a ball amongst the soft things.

"A lack of a system doesn't count as a system," Taylor shot back.

This felt… easy. Too easy. Too tempting.

Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, folding one leg underneath her. Warm sunlight streamed through the windows.

"Do you still finish books you hate just so you can say you finished them?" Emma asked.

"There's a whole saying about books and covers," Taylor bristled.

Emma's smile widened, and Taylor's heart thudded irregularly in her chest.

"What's the song of the week?" Taylor whispered. She didn't know why she was whispering.

Emma always had a song she was obsessed with. She'd play it on repeat over and over until she got bored and moved on to the next.

Emma stared at her for a few long seconds, and Taylor couldn't look away. Green was her favorite color.

Then Emma leaned over and grabbed her phone. After a couple swipes, she turned the volume to low and the instrumental intro to some indie coffee-house acoustic cover filled the background.

Taylor took a deep breath and let herself fall backwards into the nest. She inhaled deeply, and let herself pretend.

Pretend this was fine. That they both weren't broken beyond repair.

She felt Emma shift, and then a curtain of red fell over her and Emma was right there, again. So fucking close, with her freckles and her eyes and her lips and almonds and cherries and…

Taylor froze. Her muscles locked down. Her eyes were stuck wide open. She couldn't breathe properly, the air dry like sandpaper in her throat.

"Why won't you kiss me?" Emma asked softly. She reached out like she wanted to touch Taylor's face, but she pulled back before she made it half way.

Taylor honestly couldn't tell if the vulnerability in Emma's eyes was a facade or not. It was impossible to tell what was real, with her.

And Taylor still didn't trust her.

"You don't deserve-" Taylor started coldly, pushing herself back and propping herself up on her elbows.

"You know it's not about that," Emma cut her off, moving to follow her, folding into the blankets beside her. Emma's knee burned white hot against her thigh. "You love me! And I want you."

Emma always got what she wanted. Taylor clenched her jaw.

"Well, you can't fucking have me!" Taylor bit out through her teeth. She couldn't make herself move, though.

Emma somehow managed to move closer without actually touching her. It was kind of impressive.

"You miss me. You said so," Emma breathed. "I'm right here!"

The moths in Taylor's stomach churned, flipping and burning through her veins.

"I miss my Emma," Taylor said. Anything to make Emma understand. Emma couldn't do this, play with her like this, rip her to shreds and then try to kiss her wounds away.

"I could be-"

"And if I… if I kiss you, that means this is real," Taylor continued over her. "And it'll just hurt that much more when you fuck me over again."

She didn't realize how hard she was breathing.

"I can't go through that again, Emma. It would kill me. It already did," Taylor whispered. Her voice sounded broken, even to her.

"I won't-" Emma said.

"Don't," Taylor cut her off again. "Don't make promises you know you can't keep."

Emma sat back a bit, eyeing her with some mix of longing and irritation.

"What could I even do? Leave? You're too strong to let me go, now, if you really wanted to keep me," Emma said.

"I don't want-"

"You do! I know you do!" Emma said. She pointed to the bruise on her neck. "Or was this you 'not wanting to'?"

"You don't know anything," Taylor snapped. "You don't know how it felt, how…"

Taylor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It didn't help quell the fire, the need, so she took another.

That didn't really help, either.

Why the fuck was she fighting this so hard? She was the one who kept coming back. She knew what she wanted.

But fuck if she could actually reach out and take it.

I miss you. All the time. Every day.

"You're the only thing that's real, to me," Emma's voice was cracked, again, and Taylor opened her eyes to stare into the familiar shattered emerald. "Everything else… nothing else matters."

Emma felt real.

"It's like… everything, everyone else is made of paper, except for you," Emma continued.

They both shifted at the same time, automatically, instinctively, sitting on the bed with their legs folded and just barely touching. Without even realizing it, Taylor let her fingers run over Emma's forearm.

The moths in her stomach were building, driving away her protests and fears.

"I need you, Tay," Emma said. "I can't keep… I already wasted so much time. Just… please?"

Taylor's breath came out in a shaky shudder. They were so close, again. Less than a foot away. Always orbiting closer, whether she meant to or not.

But this time, she did. She meant it.

"Please?" Emma breathed.

Emma was everything she'd ever wanted. What did it matter that she was a monster?

Taylor raised her hand and ran her fingers over Emma's cheek. Perfect, soft, and warm. Especially with the blush that bloomed under her fingertips.

Her hands were cold.

Emma's breath sped up, and Taylor relished the look of hope and excitement in her eyes.

Against all odds, Emma actually wanted this. Wanted her. Even after everything.

And Taylor was so, so tired of fighting against herself. Trying not to love Emma was exhausting.

Taylor fell into the broken, desperate emerald glass, and she knew she was lost.

"You remember, right? Right here?" Taylor's voice was hoarse, but she couldn't help herself.

Emma nodded.

"I remember everything," Emma's lips trembled.

The good. The bad. The sweetest fire and the serrated shards of ice. It was all Emma, and she was real.

Taylor smiled, for real, for the first time in so, so long.

"Like this?" Taylor breathed.

She leaned in, and Emma's eyelids fluttered closed.

Taylor kissed Emma's cheek, at the corner of her lips. Gently, lingering for just a moment.

Emma gasped, and Taylor smiled.

"You remember?" Taylor said against her skin.

Everything was on fire.

"Yes," Emma's fingers clutched helplessly at Taylor's hoodie.

"Anytime I want?" Taylor grinned.

Emma nodded again, multiple times in quick succession. Her eyes were still closed.

She was so fucking beautiful.

"Anytime. Anything," Emma said. "Just… please, Tay-"

And just like that, Taylor couldn't resist a single second longer.

She held Emma's perfect face between her hands, and closed the last of the distance between them.

Their lips met, and everything else in the world ceased to matter. Emma was everywhere, and Taylor drowned in her, cherries and almonds and peppermint setting her skin on fire. It felt like she was finally, finally able to breathe after holding her breath for years. They fit together perfectly, lips moving in tandem, made for each other, every piece aligned. Emma's lips were soft and perfect and eager and she sighed into Taylor's mouth and Taylor burned all over again.

She didn't know how it happened, couldn't think of anything aside from Emma's taste on her tongue and how her bottom lip felt when Taylor caught it between her own, but suddenly Emma was in her lap and Taylor's hands were clawing up her back.

Taylor tangled her fingers in Emma's hair, and pulled. Hard.

Emma let out a beautiful, wordless keen, her head falling back from the force and breaking the connection. Taylor took the opportunity to move her lips to Emma's throat, kissing down and over the bite mark from earlier as she buried her face in Emma's skin, tasting her, drinking her in, always needing more.

The noises leaking out of Emma's throat were intoxicating, but they were also a bit loud considering Zoe was downstairs.

With a quick, precise movement, Taylor flipped them both over so Emma was trapped under her, her hair splayed across the messy sheets. Emma's eyes sparkled and her breath came in sharp gasps. The view was everything Taylor had refused to let herself imagine ever since that day.

It was amazing. Rapturous. She felt high. Even if, when, Emma used this to cut her again, it would be so, so worth it.

Taylor clamped one hand tightly over Emma's mouth and stared into her eyes. The mix of need and apprehension there was addicting.

"You need to be quiet, or we'll have to stop," Taylor's voice was low, and much more confident than she felt. "Can you do that for me, Emmi?"

Emma nodded rapidly under her hand. Taylor smiled.

"Good," Taylor breathed.

Then she replaced her hand with her lips, again, and lost herself in heaven once more.

Anytime you want, Tay.

It was so fucking good. Emma was good.

Their broken pieces fit together perfectly, a brilliant puzzle of shattered glass.

And she didn't, wouldn't, couldn't stop.

…

Saturday, April 30, 2011.

Nobody took another long pull of their cigarette. They let the gray mist coil between their lips and tried not to let their mind wander.

Taylor was eating dinner with Emma's family. Emma's mother was over the moon for their sort-of-reconciliation. Her father seemed less sure, but that might have been because they forgot to hide the mark on Emma's neck. Again.

None of them commented on it, but Nobody noticed. They couldn't help it.

They took another drag of their cigarette and watched the sun make its way slowly towards the horizon.

What do you want?

They'd spent so long trying to get Taylor out of her rut that they didn't even know.

But they liked helping Taylor. That wasn't a bad thing. Even if they were sometimes bad at it.

They always gave Taylor shit for her self-delusions, but they weren't much better. They were her, after all. Part of her, at least.

But what did they want?

Nobody tried to take their own advice.

What did this future look like, for them? If Taylor and Emma didn't crash and burn immediately? If their villain career didn't crash and burn with them?

Did they just… keep doing this? Follow Taylor around, keep her safe, do jobs, kick ass, rinse and repeat?

Was it bad that that felt… pretty okay, actually?

Life wasn't all that complicated. They liked their cigarettes and shitty Chinese food. They liked playing dangerous games, fucking with the other gangs and the PRT. They liked trying on different faces, although Taylor's was getting more comfortable by the day.

They liked taking care of Taylor. It felt… good. And they were getting better at it. Definitely better than they'd been in the beginning.

They remembered Taylor saying goodnight to the Barnes family, and stealing another kiss from Emma on the way out the door.

If they weren't in Taylor's head, they'd probably have some strong words about the whole Emma thing.

But they were in Taylor's head. They could feel what she felt. Even if remembering wasn't the same as living, and they didn't love Emma the same way. They couldn't take this away from her.

Familiar footsteps approached their picnic table.

Taylor didn't say a word, just hopped up and sat next to them. Two identical faces, lit by the setting sun behind the trees.

Nobody inhaled more mist, the cherry of their cigarette glowing orange-white, then let it out slowly.

"I want this," Nobody said eventually. Saying it out loud helped, even though it wasn't necessary. "I want to remember good things instead of feeling like shit all the time. And hanging out with Lisa, and Alec, and Madison. Even Sophia's fun to mess with, and Emma isn't terrible. It's… good. It's enough, for me."

Taylor nodded. She didn't look at them, just staring off into the sunset pensively.

"It sounds stupid, but… I like being the wisecracking Jiminy Cricket to your Pinocchio," Nobody grinned. "I just want you to be real, instead of a puppet."

"Some strings are harder to see than others," Taylor murmured.

"We'll cut them all, eventually," Nobody said.

Taylor hesitated, then held out a hand.

Nobody couldn't even begin to unpack the messy knot of feelings flowing through their shared mind, so they didn't bother to try.

They just reached out, and took Taylor's hand.

"Yeah," Taylor said softly. "Yeah, we will."

It was strange, holding their own hand, but…

It was… good.

"See? I told you," Nobody smiled crookedly. "Total cinnamon roll."

Taylor snorted, but didn't protest, for once.

They sat and watched the sunset until the sky dimmed and the stars faded into view.

"Home?" Taylor asked.

"You don't want to sneak back in for a night with dear ol' Emmi?" Nobody thought back.

They felt Taylor's mind stumble down the inevitable path before she forcibly pulled herself out of the gutter.

"No. I need… I need some time to process. Today was a lot," Taylor thought.

They made their way over to their motorcycle together. Matching jackets, matching helmets, matching bodies.

Two parts of a whole.

"Can I drive? I put up with a lot of awkward memories, today," Nobody thought.

It wasn't really that bad, but they really wanted to drive. They definitely weren't above a bit of manipulation.

Taylor knew that, but it still worked.

"Fine. Just don't kill us. I'm actually happy to be alive for once; it'd be a shame to drive off a bridge or something now," Taylor thought dryly.

Then she reached out and took control of their projection, and suddenly Nobody was looking back at themselves from the other side of the bike.

Their lips were also swollen. That was interesting.

They decided not to think about that.

"I would never. I'll have you know I've been driving for a whole week and a half," Nobody grinned behind their helmet.

"I feel better already," Taylor deadpanned.

Taylor climbed on behind them, and Nobody kicked the bike into gear. They sped away from Emma's house, the uneven asphalt flying by beneath their tires and the irregular streetlights flashing overhead.

Things might not stay like this forever, but Nobody wouldn't be disappointed if they did. It was a good feeling.

"Together."

They didn't know if the thought was theirs, or Taylor's. And in the end, it didn't really matter.

…

Notes:

Well, that was... a lot. They finally kissed in the present timeline! And it was just as toxic as the rest of their relationship (although not as violent as it could have been), but still so much fun to write. Don't worry, their problems aren't going to magically go away after one make-out session, and the story isn't over yet. Also Emma and Taylor both losing their shit on the Boardwalk, and Sophia somehow being the most stable person in attendance yet again. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody says that smoking is only cool if you're a parahuman projection that can't get cancer.

Chapter 15: Shatter 3.3

Shatter 3.3

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011.

School was still just so… weird.

Even after weeks of relative peace, Taylor couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Something had to give, eventually. There was no way this equilibrium was sustainable.

Emma was still a monster. Finally getting what she wanted couldn't have changed that overnight.

Could it?

Taylor had trouble caring. It was hard to care about anything else, when she could pull Emma into the bathroom and kiss her in between classes like it was no big deal.

How had she gone from hiding in the bathroom to eat her lunch to pushing Emma against the wall to steal a kiss before anyone else walked in? She felt like a fucking addict, sneaking away every chance she could to get another hit of her fix.

Taylor bounced her leg. Gladly's World Issues class was one of the relatively few classes she didn't share with Emma, and it put her on edge. Which was also absolutely fucking ridiculous. She used to cherish any time she could escape her ghosts at Winslow.

Now, she sat next to Madison and two other girls she didn't know like it was totally normal. She didn't really care about their names. One of them might be Lori? It didn't matter. They shot her unsure looks occasionally, but they flinched and looked away quickly any time they caught her eye. Something about her stare obviously unnerved them, and it was satisfying. They were nothing. Mosquitoes who knew better than to bite her.

It was horrible, and Taylor didn't, wouldn't, forgive her, but Emma had definitely hardened her. The weak bled when they brushed against her jagged edges.

Kissing Emma didn't help. If anything, it made it worse.

But she couldn't go back now. Couldn't give her up for anything. Didn't want to.

Madison just smirked. She spent a lot of time doing that these days. Schadenfreude was her favorite thing aside from drama, apparently.

In the back of her mind, Taylor could feel the vague sensation of Nobody practicing with their nightsticks in an abandoned alley a few blocks away. Something about Nobody's recent personal revelations had focused some of their wild energy, and they were determined to become a 'certified badass', in their own words.

Whatever. At least it gave them something to do during the day.

"You okay over there?" Nobody thought as they moved into their next routine. It wasn't as productive without a partner, but any practice was good. They were getting more and more comfortable moving their body, popping their projection to circle their target and attack from different angles in quick succession. "Those are some mildly concerning spirals you got going on."

"I don't give you shit for basking in your melancholic solitude," Taylor shot back, even though she knew they were right. She was being melodramatic again.

Maybe it was just because things felt okay, for once. And she didn't quite know what to do with that. It'd been a long time since anything was okay.

Gladly said something about homework. Taylor didn't really care. Her grades had improved since she didn't have to look over her shoulder anymore, but it wasn't like her future was going to be determined by bottom feeders like Gladly.

That thought brought her up short. Taylor paused halfway through putting her notebook away.

She'd never really considered it so plainly before, but… It wasn't like her power was going to go away. Nobody wasn't going anywhere. Even when she'd agreed to go out in costume, signed up with the Undersiders, and everything else… It was always an escape. Something to do. Something to scratch the irrepressible itch between her shoulder blades.

They already had thousands of dollars stashed away, both in cash and in their off-shore bank account provided by the Boss, whoever they were. Hell, they could create infinite cash with their projection, even if it would disappear when they popped again. Regardless, it wasn't like she would ever need a real job.

Her original plan seemed so pointless, now. Finish high school. Go to university. Do something useful, teach English or write a novel or something. Technically, she could still do that, if she wanted.

But she didn't have to. It would be a side project, a fun hobby to keep her occupied while she wasn't busting prison transports and stealing from the gangs.

What if they never stopped? Was that what she wanted?

We'll cut them all, eventually.

Was this how she freed herself? Or was this just a different set of strings?

The bell rang, and Taylor pushed her conflicted thoughts away. She had plenty of time to deal with shit like that, and for now, things were good. The future could wait.

Taylor didn't have to rush, anymore. She and Madison gathered their things and Taylor followed the shorter girl out the door.

Emma was waiting for her in the hallway. Emma was always waiting for her, and it still made something in her stomach twist. Part residual anxiety, part excitement, part something that might actually be happiness. Regardless, Taylor felt alive.

Hurting you made me feel alive, again.

The ghosts never left her entirely, but she could ignore them, for now.

"Hey," Emma smiled. Green, green eyes found Taylor's and everything else fell away.

Taylor reached out and tangled their fingers together automatically. Emma's touch still sent pins and needles over her skin, but it also calmed something deep within her. She just couldn't resist taking advantage of the contact, after so long without.

She didn't like kissing Emma in front of anyone, didn't want to feel their stares on the back of her neck, but she could handle this much. Holding her hand. Walking next to her. Hugging her from behind and burying herself in Emma's hair while she held court with her sycophants.

"You guys are kind of nauseating. Remind me why I hang out with you again?" Madison complained from beside them. Apparently being ignored didn't suit her.

Despite Taylor's better judgement, Madison was growing on her. Like a barnacle. Plus, Nobody liked her, and their view of her bled over in the back of their shared mind. That should probably concern them more than it did.

"You're like those little birds that clean the crocodile's teeth," Taylor said in a low voice, pulling her eyes away from Emma to glance down at Madison. "You don't have to worry about being bitten, as long as you're useful."

Madison snorted.

"I'm not the one who likes being bitten," she said dryly.

Taylor actually smiled. It felt weird on her face.

"Exactly," Taylor said.

Emma just shook her head and squeezed Taylor's hand. She seemed satisfied, though.

They joined the general tide of students heading for the cafeteria. Sophia silently joined them at some point.

Sophia had been even more wary and sullen since Saturday, but so far she hadn't made any moves. Taylor made a mental note to ask Emma if she'd talked to her.

Taylor had no idea how to feel about Sophia anymore. Everything was so twisted up. Part of her still hated Emma and Sophia both, but it was getting harder and harder to care. Hating them was just exhausting, more than anything else.

But the boiling salt was never far away. It didn't take much to remind her, to bring her old feelings burning back to the surface.

They rounded the corner into the wide cafeteria, and made it halfway over to the serving area before Taylor saw them.

Emma's lackeys had found a new target.

The vaguely threatening ring they formed around a short freshman girl with dark hair was easy to pick out. Taylor recognized their posture, along with the look of confused anxiety on their victim's face. The rest of the cafeteria didn't seem to even notice. Shit like this didn't even register to them, anymore.

Taylor stopped dead in her tracks, accidentally tugging Emma to a stop along with her.

As she watched, Julia took the juice carton from the girl's tray, opened it, and dumped it over their victim's head while the others laughed. The girl just stood there, frozen in shock. Taylor knew the feeling well. In the beginning, Emma's sheer audacity had frozen her just like that.

Anger curdled in her gut, but for a moment Taylor was frozen with indecision. She wanted to go stomp Julia into a pulp. That probably wouldn't help. Still, at least it would be something.

"What?" Emma asked, as if nothing was wrong.

Taylor's blood burned, and she spun to face her former tormentor.

Had Emma really changed at all?

"You said anything," Taylor growled darkly, glaring down into Emma's eyes. "Prove it."

Emma blinked. Her gaze flicked over Taylor's shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly as she made the connection, and she bit her lip indecisively.

For a moment, Taylor felt strangely small. If Emma didn't mean it, if this was all just another game, another way to hurt her…

Then Emma squared her shoulders, and her facade locked into place. A cruel light flickered behind her eyes. Her lips curved up at the corners, and Taylor's heart thudded irregularly in her chest. She couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or from something… else.

She'd seen that expression on Emma's face before, and it never went well for her.

Emma let go of Taylor's hand and strode towards the laughing group of hyenas. Taylor followed automatically, unsure what was about to happen. Sophia cursed under her breath. Madison groaned, but they both trailed along behind Emma anyway.

The girls at the edge of the group suddenly looked a bit nervous. They parted involuntarily to allow Emma access.

Julia saw them, and she smiled.

"Oh, hey, Emma, I-"

"Having fun?" Emma asked. Her sweetly poisonous tone was back in spades.

"Um… Yeah?" Julia seemed confused.

"It feels good, right? Shitting on people who can't fight back?" Emma's voice curled around the vulgar words. "Does it make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, Julia?"

The circle fidgeted. Julia's smile began to wane.

"I… what?" She seemed genuinely confused.

"I know," Emma stepped forward, invading Julia's space. Her voice dropped even lower. The girl covered in juice looked uncomfortable, but there wasn't any room to escape. "It's like picking the wings off a fly to watch it walk in circles. It's funny. Or peeling the skin off a mouse caught in a glue trap, just to watch. It's funny, isn't it?"

"No! No, it's not… what the fuck, Emma?" Julia protested. She tried to step backwards, but she ran into the cafeteria table behind her.

"Julia's a bitch, but she's got part of that right," Nobody observed idly from the alleyway. "Do you ever question our life choices?"

Taylor shoved Nobody's thoughts into the back of her brain. She could barely handle her own thoughts right now.

"It's fun, right? Hurting them. They're so weak. Pathetic," Emma's voice was still unnervingly gentle. "But you know what I think?"

"I… no?" Julia said. She glanced back at Taylor. "But you always… she…"

Emma laughed. It wasn't a nice sound.

"That's the difference. Taylor isn't weak. She never was. She could take it," Emma said. "But you can't, can you, Julia?"

"What? No, no, I'm…" Julia didn't seem to know what she was.

"You can dish it out, but you can't take it," Emma repeated. She reached past Julia to the cafeteria table behind her. Julia flinched away, but Emma ignored her.

Emma grabbed an identical carton of juice off a tray, and handed it to Julia.

"What do you want?" Julia's voice shook. Her eyes bounced wildly around the circle, once her backup, now her prison.

Taylor couldn't tell if this was awesome, or terrible. She just watched, transfixed, as Emma worked her magic.

"You know exactly what I want," Emma said. "You made it look so easy, a second ago."

Julia's hands trembled as she opened the carton. She hesitated, seemingly frozen with indecision. Her eyes watered.

"Please? For me?" Emma whispered. A shiver ran through Taylor's spine at the words.

Julia looked around one last time, and seemed to realize no one was coming to help her. She clenched her eyes tightly shut.

Then she slowly reached up and poured the contents of the carton over her own head.

The sticky liquid plastered her hair down, dripping over her face and onto her shirt. It made Taylor sick, even though Julia clearly deserved a taste of her own medicine.

The circle was silent, although chatter still filled the rest of the cafeteria. The confrontation was relatively quiet. As always, no one else really cared.

Taylor's heart pounded in her ears. She didn't know how to feel about this. Didn't know what to do.

Emma was a monster. That part definitely hadn't changed.

"You may want to have a chat with her about that," Nobody commented.

But Taylor had asked for this… hadn't she?

"Well done," Emma said softly. And somehow, that made it even worse.

Emma glanced between the two dripping victims.

"God, go clean yourselves up. You're making a mess," Emma said suddenly, her tone flipping back to upbeat and vapid in an instant. Her facade shifted, and the twisted darkness disappeared like it never existed. "Tay still needs to grab lunch. We'll be back in a sec."

The circle parted for her as Emma walked away, catching Taylor's arm on the way past. Taylor saw Julia and the unknown freshman trudge awkwardly in the direction of the bathrooms.

"What the hell was that?" Taylor hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

"What?" Emma's eyes slid sideways over her, and Taylor shivered again. Emma's voice was normal, or at least, as close to the 'real' Emma as Taylor ever got. It was impossible to tell. "You wanted me to tell her off for bullying that kid, right? Problem solved."

"I didn't mean… Fuck, Emmi," Taylor sighed. She didn't know what to do with this.

"Look, if I'd just told her to knock it off or explained why being mean is bad, it wouldn't have worked. This way, they'll all think twice before picking on someone beneath them," Emma said.

That wasn't the point.

Taylor grabbed her barely edible lunch from under the warmers in silence. Emma always brought her lunch from home. Zoe wasn't about to let Emma eat Winslow cafeteria food.

"You haven't actually…" Taylor didn't quite know how to ask. Didn't even really know what she was asking.

Emma paused and looked back at her. Her expression twisted for a brief moment, so quickly that Taylor wasn't even sure she really saw it, before her soft smile returned.

"Don't worry," Emma's words were gentle, but that didn't mean anything. Emma was always so sharp, underneath. Rusty razor blades hidden in the silk.

She leaned in and kissed Taylor on the cheek. Short, and sweet, even though her lips lingered on her skin. It still burned.

"You're the only one I like to hurt, Tay."

Taylor's stomach clenched, but it wasn't with anxiety, this time.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Emma thought their broken pieces fit together.

Maybe she was right.

…

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011.

Taylor let herself fall into the rhythm of their Kali routine, the clack of wood on wood echoing in the top floor of the Undersiders' loft.

It was easier than thinking too hard about anything, and Nobody was willing to indulge her without pushing too hard. They were getting better about stuff like that. It was kind of nice.

One two three, four five six.

She'd been so fucking angry, for so long, she didn't quite know how to stop. Like she'd be empty without it.

Whatever. Sparring with Nobody helped.

"Some of us have to sleep here, you know," Alec whined from where he lounged on one of the couches, one leg thrown up and over the back.

Taylor didn't stop. She and Nobody were getting better at multitasking. If Nobody remained focused, it took less effort for her to pay attention to the same thing. The effect was similar to their positive feedback loop, but more subtle.

"It's five o'clock in the evening," Taylor pointed out. "You'll survive without a nap."

"Maybe I just wanted to go to bed early," Alec shot back.

"The only 'early' you've ever gone to bed is in the morning," Lisa said as she emerged from the back hallway. "You know I can hear you out here yelling at the Xbox at three in the morning."

"How else will the children know they suck? I can't let them go uneducated," Alec let his head flop back to grin at her upside down.

Taylor snorted, but still didn't pause their routine. There were more important things than Alec's whining. Like not thinking about Emma or her-

"Trouble in paradise?" Lisa asked, hopping up the perch on the back of the couch and kicking her feet.

Of course Lisa wasn't going to let her bury it. That would be too easy. Why the fuck was she so nosy about this?

"It's my job to make sure the team doesn't have any landmines about to blow up in our faces," Lisa said dryly.

Taylor sighed and let her batons fall to her sides.

"Emma counts as a landmine?" Taylor said.

"You count as a landmine when she's involved, sweetie," Lisa replied.

Taylor just scowled at her.

Lisa was her friend… sort of… but she was still fucking difficult sometimes.

"She's just…" Taylor gestured vaguely with her stick. "I don't know. I know her better than anyone, and I still can't figure out what the fuck is going on in her head half the time."

Lisa pursed her lips and stared at her speculatively.

"Have you tried doing anything… normal… with her?" Lisa asked after a moment.

"What do you mean? We go to school, and-"

"Other than that. Something that isn't a home invasion or an aimless, avoidant motorcycle ride?"

Taylor's frown deepened.

"I don't see how that would help," she said.

Nobody chuckled quietly beside her. Taylor glared at them.

"You want some kind of actual relationship, right?" Lisa raised an eyebrow. "I've been told that requires actually doing things together. Preferably things that don't result in mental breakdowns."

Taylor's stomach twisted.

"Your advice… to deal with my…" Taylor couldn't say girlfriend. The word stuck in her throat. "Is to go on a fucking date?"

"The fact that that's such a wild concept for you is part of my concern," Lisa said.

She wasn't wrong, but the idea pushed… a lot of unpleasant buttons.

"Some strings aren't always obvious," Nobody observed internally.

"Fuck off."

They hummed but didn't answer.

Unhelpful little shit.

What the fuck did people even do for dates anyway? She wasn't about to take Emma out for dinner and a movie. That sounded fucking insane.

Just being near Emma for any length of time was enough to send the moths into overdrive. The idea made Taylor's skin prickle.

"That's also part of the problem. You need exposure therapy," Lisa said.

Well, at least she'd gotten a lot of that on Saturday-

"And I don't need to hear about it," Lisa cut her thought off.

Damn Thinkers.

"You're a Thinker!" Lisa pointed out.

"Master, thank you very much," Taylor muttered, eyeing Nobody's innocent face. "A shitty one, though, I'll admit."

"Awww. You say the nicest things," Nobody grinned.

Taylor took a deep breath and let the irritation out with it. They were just trying to help. Lisa and Nobody both. It wasn't fair to bite their head off.

"We both know it's not heads you like to-"

Taylor tried to hit them in the face with her baton, but they felt her intentions and deflected the incoming strike before it could land. One of the downsides to sharing a mind.

Lisa snorted and rolled her eyes at them.

Lisa's psychic routine could be convenient, but it was also annoying. Taylor felt exposed near her, sometimes, like a bug under a magnifying glass. It was the same with Nobody, to an extent. Part of her still hated that they knew everything about her, that she didn't get a choice, even if she'd accepted it a long time ago.

Taylor and Nobody resumed their sparring routine. And, if Taylor's swings were a bit harder or a bit more wild than before, Nobody didn't comment.

…

Wednesday, May 4th, 2011.

Taylor slammed Emma against the closed roof access door, heat flaring in her chest as Emma's fingers curled into her hoodie. She was careful to keep one hand behind Emma's head so she didn't actually get hurt from the impact.

No matter how unfair it was, she still didn't want to actually hurt Emma. Somehow. Not that Emma ever complained about the rough treatment.

Their lips crashed together and Taylor let herself slip away into the sensation. When Emma was kissing her, it was easy to forget. Easy to pretend that the last two years were some kind of nightmare, something that happened to someone else. Emma was hers, again, and-

Her thoughts threatened to spiral, so Taylor pushed them into the pit. She caught Emma's wrists in her hands without breaking their kiss and pulled them over Emma's head, stomach clenching at the appreciative groan that slipped between Emma's lips.

It wasn't sustainable, but Taylor didn't care. Couldn't bring herself to worry about anything, not if she could keep feeling like this.

She pulled back, lips still burning with echoes of the previous contact, and opened her eyes to drink in the view. Emma was so fucking beautiful, especially like this, flushed and excited and shining just inches away. It felt… forbidden, like nothing should be allowed to feel this good.

Taylor couldn't help but smile. Keeping Emma's hands pinned against the metal over her head with one hand, she reached down to run her fingers lightly across Emma's cheek with the other.

Soft, and warm.

Emma leaned into her hand automatically. She kept her eyes closed for a second, lingering in the touch.

Then Emma opened her eyes, and Taylor was lost all over again. It wasn't fair, the effect Emma had on her, but Taylor wasn't complaining anymore. It felt too good. Green, green, green.

Emma's smile fell, her expression crumpling into an unreadable something for a moment before she pushed herself up on her toes to kiss Taylor again. Moths fluttered in Taylor's stomach, and she couldn't stop herself from diving back into the fire. Didn't want to.

Taylor knew they were both still broken. Emma was still a monster, deep underneath her litany of facades. Being with this Emma wouldn't bring back what she'd lost.

Taylor didn't care.

…

Thursday, May 5th, 2011.

The slow river of students leaving Winslow after the final bell rang was vaguely claustrophobic, but Taylor was used to it. The press of bodies around her didn't feel nearly as threatening, anymore.

Part of that was the electric burning where her fingers threaded between Emma's. The intensity of the sensation still hadn't faded. Emma lit up everything she touched, Taylor included.

They made it through the doors and out onto the cracked sidewalk. Emma tried to head towards the bus stop like usual, but Taylor tugged her backwards by the hand.

"No. We're going somewhere, today," Taylor said.

Emma's expression flickered for a split second before she smiled widely.

"Okay!" Emma said brightly.

No questions about where they were going. No aversion to being told rather than asked. Some days, being with Emma was easy. Scarily easy.

It took Taylor a while to realize she was smiling.

…

Thursday, May 5th, 2011.

"Out of all the available date options, you chose… the mall?" Nobody thought in her general direction from the roof.

Taylor didn't let her scowl show on her face, but Nobody would get the gist.

"I wanted somewhere normal, and Emma likes the mall. Plus, it wasn't like I could go here, before," Taylor thought back.

Taylor kept ahold of Emma's hand automatically. It was almost second nature, already. Emma was walking beside her; why wouldn't she be holding her hand?

Emma raised her eyebrows in Taylor's direction, swinging their joined hands between them.

"So… what are we doing here?" Emma asked eventually.

That was a loaded question. It shouldn't be this difficult to answer.

There were a lot of reasons Taylor had given up on trying to plan anything fancy and just decided to drag Emma to the mall. It wasn't something she would have done in a million years, even a few weeks ago.

But she just wanted to feel fucking normal for once, dammit. Teenagers went to the fucking mall all the time. It shouldn't feel weird.

Maybe Lisa was right. Somewhere, underneath everything else, she wanted things to be normal, with Emma. Just for a couple hours.

"We're going to do something normal for once," Taylor said. "Get a pretzel. Wander around. Buy some random stuff. Turns out, robbing banks and fucking with heroes is pretty lucrative."

"Oh," Emma's expression was unreadable, again. "Sure, I guess."

Taylor glanced over, and a burst of manic energy seized her. They weren't at Winslow, now, so she leaned over and kissed Emma briefly.

It was still electric, being allowed to just do that.

Emma blinked dazedly for a second, then smiled.

"Okay, sure, let's do it," Emma said. "I wanted to check out the new summer lines anyway."

Emma tugged on Taylor's hand, and they made their way into the wide air-conditioned hallways.

Everything about this felt normal, and boring… but at the same time, it didn't. It wasn't. Trailing along while Emma talked, pointing out stuff in the store windows or people being weird… It felt nicer than it should. It didn't make her skin itch the way it would have, months ago.

They actually did get pretzels covered in cinnamon sugar, and ate them while they walked. They were surprisingly good warm.

Emma dragged her into a makeup store and spent what felt like a long time looking through the endless aisles for a new brand of foundation.

Taylor wasn't willing to try anything on at the overpriced apparel shops, but she bought a couple new T-shirts anyway. She waited by the chairs outside the changing rooms while Emma tried out a new style that didn't look all that different to Taylor, but Emma was excited about it.

Slowly but surely, Taylor felt a knot of something deep inside her gut start to unclench. She couldn't put her finger on what, exactly, but she felt lighter.

She wasn't sure why, since Emma clearly had more than enough of Alan's money lying around, but Taylor still paid for everything. It felt good, for some reason, and she wasn't about to question it. It wasn't like she had to worry about money after the Bakuda gig.

Even between her and Nobody, they hadn't come up with a good way to share their newfound financial freedom with her father. Maybe she could ask Lisa.

She should probably talk to her father, at some point. Did he even notice how different she was, now? She'd never told him about everything Emma had done… what would he think about them being together?

Would he even care?

Taylor shook those thoughts off and sat down on an uncomfortable metal bench next to Emma. She consolidated their ill-gotten gains into one bag to make it easier to carry.

She could feel Emma's eyes on her, but it didn't feel like being flayed alive, anymore. Quite the opposite.

They sat quietly for a while, just idly watching random people wander past. Even Nobody's thoughts were quiet. It was nice.

"Want to go to the roof?" Taylor asked. Rooftops felt like home, these days, with the amount of time Nobody spent haunting them.

"That's an option? They probably have cameras," Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Nobody can handle it," Taylor grinned.

"Oh, sure, Nobody will take care of everything, not to worry, no need to actually ask or say 'please'," Nobody grumbled as they stood from their perch on the air-conditioning unit, dusting imaginary dirt off their jeans.

Taylor's smile widened slightly at their complaining. They didn't mean it, but it was still fun.

"Thanks, Nobody," she shot in their direction as she stood.

"Sure, sure. Gotta have some trespassing and shit to end the totally normal date."

Emma pursed her lips, but took Taylor's hand and followed.

In the back of their shared mind, Taylor felt Nobody take on the guise of one of the mall cops they'd passed earlier, a severe looking woman with short hair they dubbed 'Security Guard #2'.

The mall didn't have constant live monitoring, but it did have a security server room. A few unplugged wires later, and suddenly the camera system was having 'technical difficulties'. Easy-peasy.

Taylor tugged Emma along down a side hallway, checked to make sure no one was watching, and pushed their way into the maintenance hallway and up the roof access staircase.

Nobody popped back to the roof with a set of bolt cutters and took care of the chain on the roof access door.

Taylor felt a little bit manic, and reckless, but it was a good feeling. Better than drowning.

By the time they made it through the door and onto the roof, Emma was laughing, too.

It was brighter than Taylor expected, and warm. It wasn't actually all that late, yet. She hesitated for just a second, then pulled her hoodie over her head. It wasn't like Emma could hurt her with words, anymore.

Emma's eyes roved over her arms and chest in the old graphic T-shirt, but she didn't comment.

Taylor wandered over to one of the air conditioning units and hopped up, patting the metal next to her.

Emma was still watching her with a strange expression, but she wandered over and joined her, anyway.

The silence stretched, but Taylor didn't feel the need to fill it.

Emma leaned her head against her shoulder.

Taylor turned and pressed a kiss into her hair. Almonds, and cherries, and Emma.

Instead of melting into her, though, Emma stiffened slightly. Taylor couldn't see her face.

"What?" Taylor asked. Her voice felt too loud, over the quiet solitude.

"Nothing," Emma said quickly.

Taylor frowned.

Emma's hands were clenched into fists on her lap. Her knuckles were white.

What the hell was going on?

Taylor hopped down and leaned next to her. Emma was so fucking sharp, and she could clearly take care of herself, but Taylor felt a strange, unexpected urge to protect her.

"What's wrong?" Taylor asked.

"I…"

Emma closed her eyes and took a shaky breath before pushing off the makeshift metal seat, too. She turned away from Taylor, staring out over the cracked parking lots.

Taylor's muscles were weirdly tense, like she was bracing for an impact she couldn't see coming.

"Emmi, talk to-" Taylor started uncertainly.

"I can't!"

The words seemed to explode out of Emma's mouth without her permission.

Emma spun to face her, and her eyes were wild. Staring past her, like she wasn't actually seeing her.

"I can't do this," Emma whispered.

Taylor's heart thundered in her chest.

"What?" Taylor demanded.

"I keep thinking… Every time you smile, I want to hurt you, again. Want to snuff out that fucking spark of happiness and-" Emma cut herself off, taking another ragged breath.

Taylor just stared. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't this.

"So?" Taylor asked.

She already knew Emma was a monster.

"I'm poison," Emma said in a broken voice.

Emma clenched her fists and stared at the ground.

"I'm fucking poison, and I can't… I don't want to hurt you, anymore, except I do, so fucking bad, and I can't…"

Emma's lips were white.

"I don't know how to be happy. I don't even know if I want to. I'm going to cut you, and burn you, and chew you up and spit you out and I break everything I touch and I don't want to!" Emma's words became a scream, at the end.

Taylor was frozen.

"I can't do this," Emma said again. "I thought I could. Thought I did. But… but I'm poison, for you, Tay, and you deserve so much better."

Anger tightened in Taylor's gut, pushing away any amount of peace she'd managed to build.

"Don't you fucking dare," Taylor hissed. "You don't get to run away now. Not after everything you've done. This was all your fucking game, Emmi!"

"I know," Emma whispered.

"You begged me to kiss you again! You said you… you…" Taylor couldn't get the words out of her throat.

"I know."

Taylor wanted to break something.

But not Emma. Anything but Emma.

"You don't get to do this. Not now. Not to me," Taylor said.

"I can't. I love you, and I want to hurt you, but I can't," Emma said. "And you can't say 'no' to me, so if I don't… You'll be trapped with me, forever, and you'll be… you'll be…"

"It's my fucking life, Emma!" Taylor yelled, her voice echoing over the rooftop. Maybe yelling louder would make it hurt less. "And I'd rather throw it away than spend it with anyone else. It's not up to you!"

Taylor stalked forward until she towered over Emma, less than a foot away. They didn't touch, but it was a close thing. She could feel the familiar heat.

"What does it matter, whether I'm suffering alone or suffering with you? Shouldn't it be my choice?" Taylor demanded. She didn't really want an answer. The anger was twisting, turning into something else. Something that threatened to drown her.

Ice cold water, closing over her head.

Emma stared up at her with shattered eyes.

Green was her favorite color.

Emma rose onto her toes, and kissed Taylor on the cheek. Short, and soft, and unbearably sweet. It burned like ice under her skin. She felt hollow.

"I'm so, so sorry, Tay," Emma whispered.

Then she turned, walked over to the roof access door, and left.

And Taylor was still frozen.

Alone.

She didn't know what her face was doing. Didn't care.

Her chest felt empty, and impossibly full, all at the same time.

Taylor stared blankly at the spot Emma used to be, not seeing anything at all.

She wanted to scream, break something, kill something, but she also never wanted to move again.

Didn't want this to be real.

It was fitting. Of course Emma would develop something resembling a conscience just in time to find a new way to destroy her. A new, monstrous way to carve her to pieces from the inside out.

It made entirely too much sense that, in trying to avoid hurting her anymore, Emma hurt her even worse than before.

Well, maybe not worse.

But equal.

Last time, she thought Emma hated her.

Now, she knew better.

And that didn't make it better.

I miss you.

All the time.

And now, she always would.

…

Notes:

Poor Taylor... A happy ending is still in the cards, I promise. They both just need to figure their shit out, a bit. There will be more Nobody action soon. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is going to borrow your toothbrush.

Chapter 16: Shatter 3.4

Shatter 3.4

Friday, May 6th, 2011.

Maybe she should've just taken Nobody's shitty advice and gotten blackout drunk. At least then, she wouldn't be conscious.

The moonlight filtering through her window threw strange patterns on the ceiling. It was easier to watch than it was to close her eyes.

The cold was creeping in again.

Her comforter was suddenly too heavy, and she couldn't breathe. Taylor kicked it off and onto the floor.

It didn't really help.

The bed was too soft, so she joined the crumpled blanket on the floor a moment later. It wasn't comfortable at all, but at least it wasn't pulling her in, dragging her under and-

4:09 AM

Wasn't that just fucking peachy.

School tomorrow… today… was going to suck. For a lot of reasons. Reasons she wasn't thinking about, because that would mean…

Taylor punched the hardwood, and immediately regretted it. Hopefully her father wouldn't wake up. If there was one thing she absolutely could not handle right now, it was that.

The pain in her hand felt good, though. Better than being empty.

"It's a little better up here, if you want to swap," Nobody offered. "Lots of stars. Plus, smoking."

Taylor felt them take another long drag of their cigarette, and remembered looking up at the sky from where they lounged on the roof of the house.

"No thanks," Taylor thought bitterly. It wouldn't help. She wasn't in the mood for Nobody's melancholic solitude bullshit.

She needed to move, before she crawled out of her skin.

It was still early, but not too early for a run. The time didn't really matter anyway. Who the fuck even cared?

Maybe she'd run into a mugger or something. That'd be fucking hilarious.

Taylor wrenched herself upright with jerky, uncoordinated movements. That was fine. It was still moving. Better than rotting on the floor. She pulled on her sweat pants and threw one of her old hoodies over her tank top.

She didn't look at the shopping bag of new clothes in the corner, half of which didn't even belong to her. It wasn't like Emma had-

The front door banged loudly against the doorstop as Taylor threw it open and ran down the steps. If she woke her father up this time, at least she wouldn't still be here to find out.

Her footsteps echoed slightly on the otherwise quiet street. She hit her stride easily, muscle memory more than up to the task of carrying her away from the house while she let her mind go blank.

Easier to move, rather than think.

She could feel Nobody popping along quietly behind her, but she ignored them for now. They were being remarkably unobtrusive about this whole thing, and she wasn't going to complain. Her head was fucked up enough as it was.

The burn in her legs was familiar. It helped drive away the cold, for a little while. Her repeated footfalls and breaths formed an endless loop, keeping her mind from spiraling.

The warehouses became more run down as she made her way farther north, until they were almost entirely abandoned altogether. The streets were mostly deserted, too late for the night crowds and too early for the morning commuters. A couple of men sporting red and green eyed her from the other side of the street as she passed, but they didn't bother her. Lucky for them. She'd relish some convenient catharsis.

Even now, Emma had made her sharp.

Taylor barely noticed how far she'd travelled until she hit the waterfront. She was too far north for there to be a proper boardwalk, but there were still concrete slabs lined with metal railings between the warehouses. Black water sloshed against the barricade, below.

Her legs were on fire, and her hoodie was drenched with sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest; some small comfort that she wasn't completely hollow. Taylor slowed to a walk, and let herself brace her shaking hands against the cold steel. The railing was old, rusted by the salt water, but it seemed structurally stable.

The sky in the east was just beginning to lighten, over the Bay.

Alone.

Except, she wasn't. Not really. For better or worse, she was never truly alone anymore.

"Nobody…" Taylor thought. She couldn't say the words out loud. Her jaw didn't work right. "What do we do?"

She felt their presence next to her. Could see her own silhouette against the horizon, in their eyes.

"About Emma, or in general?" They asked, wandering up to lean next to her.

Taylor glanced over.

They wore a stranger's body today. A thin, gangly boy with sandy hair and a tanned face. Maybe they didn't feel like being her, right now. Taylor didn't really feel like being herself either.

Or maybe it was a reminder. That they were their own person, even if they couldn't help but share her pain.

Remembering wasn't the same as experiencing, but that didn't necessarily make it pleasant either.

"Both?" Taylor shrugged internally. She hated how small her mental 'voice' sounded, but she didn't really care. What did it matter?

What did anything matter?

Nobody lit another cigarette. They exhaled gray mist over the water. For once, Taylor didn't hate the smell. It was something, at least.

"General is easier. We keep going. Same shit, different day. See if Lisa has another job lined up. Fuck around at school," Nobody thought. "I could go to class today, if you want. Maybe some time away would be better."

"No," Taylor thought automatically. "I'm… I have to see her. I can't…"

She couldn't explain why it was important to go through the motions. To make sure Emma knew she hadn't broken her again.

Even though she had. Especially because she had. Like stepping on shattered glass just as she'd begun to realign the pieces.

"Which brings us to question two… what to do about Emma," Nobody continued.

Taylor flinched.

Nobody sighed.

"I know this doesn't help… but I think she's lying," Nobody thought. "She said it herself. She doesn't know how to be happy. I don't think she actually wants you gone."

Taylor's knuckles were white against the rust.

"She was pretty clear about that part," Taylor forced out.

"Was she? From where I was sitting, she wasn't all that clear about anything."

Who the fuck knew what Emma actually wanted? It definitely didn't seem like Emma did.

"What if this was all part of it?" Taylor thought. "Just another game. Another way to fuck with me?"

"Do you want it to be?" Nobody asked quietly.

"No," Taylor thought.

"You can't really lie to me. Doesn't exactly work."

"Fine. Maybe," Taylor admitted grudgingly. "At least then it wouldn't be over."

Nobody nodded and took another drag of their cigarette.

"So don't let it be over, then," Nobody offered.

"What?"

"Emma always wins, right? She always gets what she wants. Well… do what you want, this time, and she can deal with it," Nobody thought. "It's not like she ever takes your feelings into account. Who cares if she tells you to fuck off? She's wrong, anyway."

"I'm not going to force her to-"

"I don't mean like that. Jesus," Nobody waved their cigarette. The glowing cherry left a trail through the morning air. "Just… keep showing up. Don't let her pretend this isn't real. Take that little voice in your head that says you aren't enough, and shoot it in the face."

Taylor snorted despite herself.

The breeze off the Bay felt nice. It wasn't too hot yet, this early in the day.

She didn't answer for a long time. Didn't let herself think of anything specific, but…

It wouldn't be too hard. Just show up. Force Emma to acknowledge her, keep her from running away. And if Emma didn't like it, that was too fucking bad.

Seeing Emma would probably feel like jagged sawblades all over again, but that was nothing new. She could handle it. Maybe Emma could use a taste of her own medicine.

"Okay. We keep going, then," Taylor decided. It was better than being empty. "Emma doesn't get to decide we're over. She gave up that right a long time ago."

"Vaguely problematic wording, but I'll take it," Nobody grinned.

Taylor ignored that part.

Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment and let the first rays of sunlight wash over her. Both of them.

She could do this. Emma didn't have the monopoly on breaking things, and she clearly didn't know what was best for her. This wasn't Emma's game, anymore.

"Hey, Nobody…" Taylor thought, staring out of the water. "Thank you. For everything."

She didn't need to verbalize the details. Nobody remembered the water closing over her head.

"It's the least I could do," Nobody reached up to rub the back of their neck sheepishly. It was almost cute.

Taylor couldn't find the right words to apologize, but Nobody would understand.

"It wasn't," Taylor said out loud. Some things were better that way. "The least you could do, I mean. It never was."

Nobody had saved her, in more ways than one. Saying 'thank you' was the least she could do.

…

Friday, May 6th, 2011.

Taylor felt a potent sense of déjà vu.

Nothing about the depressing facade of Winslow was different. Same cracked sidewalks. Same rusted overhangs.

Everything was the same.

But it was also different, today.

Taylor squared her shoulders. She could do this. She'd walked into Winslow with her head held high back when Emma thought she was dead. She'd done it after realizing that Emma didn't hate her. And she'd done it again after she kissed her.

She could do it after Emma tried to leave her.

Emma didn't have the right to dictate her actions. Especially not out of some misplaced, self-sacrificing idiocy.

She wasn't going to break. Wasn't going to hide from Emma, wasn't going to ignore her. She was better than that.

And Emma would just have to deal with it.

Taylor made her way across the courtyard with a confidence that was only slightly forced. Emma couldn't do anything to her. Not anymore.

A familiar car pulled up to the drop off circle. Familiar red hair. Familiar everything.

Taylor knew Emma better than anyone, and Nobody was right. Emma had lied to her. To herself.

Emma froze for a moment when she saw Taylor approaching. Her face fell, then twisted in the way that Taylor now recognized as Emma suppressing the desire to hurt her.

But Emma didn't want to hurt her. Not really. That certainty pushed back the emptiness.

This wasn't part of Emma's game. Not anymore. Emma didn't know how to be happy, which meant that Emma had no fucking idea what she was doing.

Taylor was sure of it.

All she had to do was get Emma to realize it, too.

"Hey, Emmi!" Taylor grinned, and Emma flinched. "You forgot your clothes, yesterday."

Taylor held out the bag expectantly. She waved at Zoe through the car door.

Zoe leaned forward to wave back.

Emma stared for a moment too long.

Then she took the bag of clothes, tossed it back into the car, and closed the door behind her.

She turned back to face Taylor as the car pulled away.

Smiling wasn't nearly as difficult as it should be. She could do this.

Taylor took two steps towards the front doors, then paused when Emma didn't follow.

"You coming?" Taylor asked casually over her shoulder.

Emma blinked.

Taylor kept her gaze focused, staring into beautiful, broken green eyes without flinching.

Emma didn't call the shots anymore. She didn't get to ruin everything just because she couldn't figure out how to be happy. Taylor wouldn't let her.

Taylor didn't move. Instead, she just raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Emma didn't get to hide behind her facades anymore.

Taylor could stand here all day. Could follow her anywhere. Even if Emma told her to leave.

But Emma wouldn't. If Emma was really capable of leaving her alone, she wouldn't have spent the last two years fucking with her. Even yesterday, she never actually told Taylor to leave her alone.

Also, Emma was sorry. Taylor believed that, too.

Sure enough, Emma cracked first.

Taylor saw the moment she decided, and her stomach flipped.

Emma fell into step beside her without a word.

Taylor didn't hold her hand. She didn't drag her to the roof to kiss her senseless.

But Emma was still here, and Taylor would get what she wanted, eventually. What they both wanted, even if Emma wouldn't admit it right now.

She deserved it.

…

Friday, May 6th, 2011.

Taylor threw her belongings together haphazardly and rushed out of World Issues without waiting for Madison.

The déjà vu was back.

Emma wasn't waiting for her, but that was fine. It was Taylor's turn to track her down. Fair play.

All's fair in love and war.

This could feasibly count as both, at this point.

"Hebert."

Taylor stopped.

Sophia was glaring at her.

That wasn't exactly unusual.

Sophia jerked her head towards the bathroom door next to her and marched through without looking back.

That part was unusual.

Taylor considered just continuing her path to Emma.

But she was curious. Sophia had been doing a good job of ignoring her for the last week. What the hell did she want now?

Nobody was suddenly paying very close attention from their rooftop.

Taylor was reasonably sure Sophia wouldn't try to kill her. Nobody was less sure.

"You aren't the one she killed last time," Nobody commented.

"You killed yourself because you're an overdramatic little shit," Taylor reminded them.

Taylor still readied herself for an attack as the door banged open, just in case. It didn't come.

She kicked the door shut behind her.

Sophia looked tense, standing against the far wall. Her arms were stiff. Not straight at her sides, but not fully raised to fight either.

The mirror was still cracked.

"What did you do to Emma?" Sophia demanded.

Taylor laughed. She couldn't help it.

"What I did?"

"Don't fucking pretend-"

"No, that's fucking rich, coming from you," Taylor spat.

"Fuck you, too."

Taylor took a step forward without thinking, and Sophia's hands came up the rest of the way.

Taylor didn't care.

"You think I don't fucking know? You think I haven't read your file, Sophia? I know about the alley. I know about your probationary deal. I know that you took my Emma, and twisted her up into a monster like you."

Sophia's expression went blank.

Then it was her turn to laugh, apparently.

Taylor almost hit her. She didn't care that this was her real body.

"You think I twisted her? Have you seen her, Hebert?" Sophia asked.

Taylor just glared.

"Emma's tough as nails. She's fucking brutal. I didn't do shit. She clawed out that fucker's eyes all on her own." Sophia continued. "Nothing gets under her skin. Except you, for some fucking reason. So, what'd you do? Break things off now that you got a taste?"

Taylor could feel her heartbeat in her eye sockets.

"Fuck you. I would never. She's the one who tried to abandon me! And guess what? I'm not letting her go," Taylor stalked forward.

"You ever think that maybe she'd be better off without you?" Sophia shot back. To her credit, she didn't back down in the slightest as Taylor closed the distance between them. "Just fucking leave. Move away or some shit. Or you could always die."

"I don't care."

"What?" Sophia's chin jutted up despite the confusion in her eyes.

"I don't give a fuck if it's better or not. I'm not going anywhere," Taylor said darkly. "I put up with too much shit from you and Emma to run away now."

Sophia was tall, and she kept her spine straight, but Taylor still glared down at her.

"So you better go ahead and kill me, if you can, or stay the fuck out of my way," Taylor finished.

Sophia's eyes flashed.

"Watch it," Nobody cut in.

Sophia's elbow hit the side of Taylor's jaw, hard. She was faster than Taylor gave her credit for, despite the other times they'd fought.

Luckily, Taylor remembered to clench.

Taylor stumbled sideways slightly, but her body was already reacting automatically. Months of training with Nobody definitely paid off. She caught Sophia's arm with one hand and hammered a low punch into the side of her ribcage.

"Stay out of this," Taylor thought in Nobody's direction. This wasn't about them.

Sophia wheezed, and shoved her, but Taylor's root was solid. All Sophia managed to do was slam herself back into the concrete.

They both tried to headbutt each other at the exact same moment.

Fortunately, Sophia was on the back foot, so she didn't have enough leverage to do serious damage. Unfortunately, Sophia was a couple inches shorter than her, so her forehead hit Taylor directly in the nose.

Which was some bullshit.

Taylor decided that two could play at that game. She let go of Sophia's arm so she could twist and elbow her across the face with the other.

Sophie took advantage of her newfound mobility to slug Taylor in the gut. Taylor coughed a splatter of blood into Sophia's face, and took some small victory at the flicker of disgust.

Then the bathroom door opened, and they both froze.

"Wow. You move on quick," Madison deadpanned.

"Fuck off," Taylor and Sophia growled at the same time.

That alone was surreal enough to snap Taylor out of her angry haze. She pushed Sophia's arm away with an involuntary sneer.

"No, don't worry. It's cute, fighting over her and everything. Romantic as fuck. I should write a new fic," Madison said.

Taylor just spat a gob of bloody saliva into the sink on her way towards the door. She pushed past the annoying little pest and back into the hallway without a backwards glance.

Her blood still burned, but she pushed the mix of anger and something down into the pit.

It was probably for the best that they got interrupted, anyway. She shouldn't be fighting in her real body. What the fuck was she thinking?

Nobody was studiously not commenting.

Taylor yanked a couple handfuls of napkins from the dispenser in the cafeteria and wiped the blood off her face. The nosebleed was already slowing, and her hoodie was dark enough that the stain wasn't immediately obvious. She threw the bloody mess into a trash can on her way past and grabbed a random selection of food from under the warmers.

Sophia arrived while she was still at the register. Taylor didn't look at her.

Emma was holding court with her circle at their usual table. There was still an open seat saved next to her, and Taylor's chest felt weirdly light, despite everything.

Taylor slid into her seat like nothing had changed.

She could feel Emma's eyes on her, but she didn't look. Of course Emma would notice. Emma always noticed.

"What happened to-" Emma started.

Sophia sat down heavily across from them. Her lip was still bleeding.

The silence was palpable.

"What…" Emma tried again.

"Nothing," Sophia and Taylor said at the same time. Again.

Okay. That shit had to stop. It was unsettling.

On the roof, Nobody cackled like an idiot.

At least someone was having fun.

…

Friday, May 6th, 2011.

Taylor didn't follow Emma home, today.

She wasn't going to let Emma run away, but showing up in her bedroom was a step too far, for now. She needed to get Emma used to the idea of being around her again. It would take time to make Emma realize that she wasn't going anywhere, no matter what Emma said.

Just the right amount of pressure. Too little, and Emma would disappear. Too much, and she'd break.

Was this how Emma felt, over the last few weeks? Longer?

Whatever. It would be fine.

Taylor didn't go to the loft, either. She didn't want to deal with Lisa's overly observant eyes right now. Her advice never seemed to work out, anyway.

She was already dead tired from her sleepless night last night. So, instead of doing anything about any of her current problems, Taylor just trudged upstairs, grabbed her comforter off the floor, and went to bed.

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Consciousness returned slowly. It was dark outside. Taylor's brain felt muddled. Confused.

What the fuck was that noise?

Oh. Right. She had a phone, now. She still forgot sometimes.

12:41 AM

Lisa's voice leapt out of the speaker as soon as Taylor flipped the burner open.

"Rise and shine, Specter. We've got a dragon situation, and we need all hands on deck ASAP," Lisa said with faux levity.

Fuck.

Just what she needed right now.

"Nobody, can you-"

"Already on it."

"What's going on?" Taylor demanded, grabbing her mask and bullet-proof vest out of the back of her closet.

Her batons went on her belt along with her pepper spray and first aid kit. She tied her hair back and tucked it down the back of her jacket.

"Lung got ahold of our location, somehow. Or at least, close enough. The Boss tipped me off, but it's going to be a bitch to outrun him. The street's already crawling with ABB. Rachel's on her way."

Taylor slid the mask into place and pulled her hood up, and she was Specter, again.

"Four minutes," Taylor said, then hung up. Her bike was faster than Lisa's car, and she wasn't going to be obeying any traffic laws.

She opened her bedroom window, dropped to hang by her fingertips from the edge of the sill, then let go and landed in a roll on the grass below.

Nobody pulled up just as Taylor hit the street.

"I'm driving," Taylor thought.

"I got burned alive last time, it's only fair-"

"You'll get our real body killed. Besides, you're quicker with the projection," Taylor said.

Loath as she was to admit it, Nobody was better at separating their Self from their body. They were more willing to pop, change form, and die in a heartbeat. Taylor was still attached to her body, and it made her hesitate at inconvenient times.

They couldn't afford that, tonight.

Taylor gunned it, and they sped off towards the northern end of the Docks.

Her phone rang again. She barely heard it over the wind.

"Answer that," Taylor thought, tossing her phone over her shoulder.

Nobody popped, caught the phone, and landed smoothly on the bike behind her. Excellent hand-eye coordination. Well done, Nobody.

That wasn't Lisa's number. Who else had her number?

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" Nobody quipped.

"Nobody. Put Taylor on the phone," Emma's voice snapped.

What?

Taylor and Nobody swapped bodies. It was second nature by now.

"What the fuck, Emma?" Taylor demanded. "How'd you get this number?"

"Sophia's in trouble," Emma said instead of answering the question.

You've got to be kidding me.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment," Taylor ground out through her teeth.

"Please?"

God. Fucking. Dammit.

Taylor almost agreed.

Anytime. Anything.

Except… Emma ran away.

She'd lost the right to anything.

And Taylor's world was more than just Emma. Sophia could take care of herself.

"Sorry, Emmi," Taylor said.

Then she hung up.

Taylor slid the phone back into their real body's jacket, then swapped with Nobody again.

Emma could wait. They had a dragon to deal with, first.

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Hmmmm. That was a lot of fire.

Nobody popped and landed on one of the few surviving warehouses on the outskirts of the Docks.

It looked like the others had managed to lead Lung away from their actual base, but that was a pretty thin silver lining. This was not ideal.

Lung was already pretty damn big. He roared, metal flowing over his skin, and threw one of Rachel's dogs clear across the molten road and through the wall of an old warehouse.

No clouds of darkness. Brian must have been at his apartment. Damn.

Nobody caught a glimpse of another dog through the smoke, this one carrying at least one passenger, and popped.

"Who ordered a-" they started.

Alec tased them.

Well, at least he was paying attention.

They popped and reformed to get rid of the shakes.

"-Fuck, nevermind, then," they said.

"Welcome to the party," Lisa yelled over the roaring. "I don't suppose you can summon a rocket or something and launch him into the Bay?"

"Nope. But I have grenades!" Nobody held their hands up to show the others.

"Don't hit the dogs," Rachel grunted.

Nobody would do their best. The dogs were pretty durable, regardless.

"Stall him while we run?" Lisa asked.

"I'll try," Nobody grimaced. They weren't actually looking forward to burning alive again. Definitely top five worst ways to die, right after being squashed by a steamroller like a tube of toothpaste. Not that they'd ever experienced that, but it sounded worse.

Another howl pierced the night.

Nobody popped.

They landed right in front of Lung's towering form, and pulled the pin.

"How long do these things take, do you think?" Nobody wondered aloud.

Lung kicked them in the chest so hard that, instead of flying backwards, their body just kind of came apart at the seams.

Then the grenade went off in his face.

Lung barely flinched.

Well… shit.

Nobody reformed on a nearby rooftop.

One of the other dogs managed to latch onto Lung's leg and pull him off balance, but he lashed out and that puppy joined the other in the burning warehouse. Ouch.

Lung looked up at them for a split second, then took off after Lisa and the others.

Fuck.

Hopefully Taylor was paying attention.

She was. Their minds were close, right now. They both saw out of each other's eyes. Not that Taylor was looking at anything interesting at the moment, aside from dodging burning debris on their motorcycle.

Nobody popped, and landed square on Lung's shoulders. They felt their muscles cook. The air seared their lungs, but they ignored it. Quips were more important than functioning lungs.

"Yippee-ki-yay, mother-"

The grenade in their hand went off. Unfortunate timing. They'd get it right next time.

Lung stumbled slightly, but otherwise ignored the point blank explosion.

Damn.

Well, if it ain't broke…

Nobody popped again, this time latching on to one of Lung's enormous legs. Their arms barely reached all the way around.

Burning alive was just… great.

Luckily, the grenade ended their suffering. Again.

Lung didn't even slow down.

Nobody popped and landed back on the dog with the others.

"Got any more ideas?" Nobody asked.

Lisa looked legitimately scared, for once. That wasn't good. Poor Lisa.

The dog's talons left deep scars in the asphalt, but the flames behind them were gaining.

"Bitch, Regent, slow him down until Grue catches up!" Lisa yelled.

They banked to the left in a spray of broken concrete, circling the burning block to meet up with the other dogs.

Nobody kept up the grenade bombardment, but Lung just shrugged them off even more easily with every blow.

The other two dogs came back into range, and Rachel began whistling commands.

It was a losing battle, though. Lung was getting bigger, and the dogs were slowing down from their injuries. Nobody couldn't drop grenades when the dogs got close to the dragon.

In the back of their mind, Nobody heard Taylor's phone ringing, again. Emma's number.

Why was everyone feeling so needy tonight?

Nobody felt Taylor decide to risk it, throwing off her helmet and answering the phone in one motion.

"What?" Taylor yelled into the receiver.

It wasn't Emma's voice, this time.

"Hebert," Sophia sounded like shit. "They took Emma."

Nobody flinched at the jagged shards of ice that erupted within Taylor's mind.

They popped and landed on a nearby rooftop. One that was only mostly on fire.

Taylor slammed on the brakes, skidding the bike to a stop sideways in a long line of black rubber.

"Where?" Taylor asked.

Her voice was dead. Frozen. Efficient. That was slightly concerning.

"Alley off of West Market," Sophia coughed.

That wasn't too far.

Taylor's thoughts were cold steel. The horror and fear and anger ran deep, but Nobody could feel her forcing the unruly, unproductive emotions away with ironclad control. They could feel her holding back the overwhelming panic that threatened to close over her head. Touching her mind was excruciating, but they couldn't pull away now.

"Nobody."

The words were like cruel spikes to their frontal lobe. Intentional, and deliberate. They carved themselves deep into their shared brain.

"Cut. Our. Strings."

Nobody smiled through the pain.

"Aye aye, Captain."

Taylor took off in the opposite direction with an angry squeal of tires on asphalt. They didn't have much time before she hit the range limit.

Nobody bounced on the balls of their feet and shook the tremors from their arms. They could do this. Time to shine. Rock and roll. Pedal to the metal.

They met Lisa's confused gaze across the burning road.

Lisa's eyes widened in horror. Her face fell slack. It was kind of funny.

"FULL FUCKING THROTTLE, BABY!" Nobody yelled dramatically, punching the overheated air with both fists. When else would they get the chance to be this dramatic? They had to take advantage when they could. It was tradition.

"RUN!" Lisa screamed, grabbing Rachel's arm in a panic. For once, Rachel listened without hesitation.

Nobody cackled and rolled their shoulders, mainly to give the dogs time to book it. Lung paused momentarily at the sudden retreat.

As soon as Lisa and the dogs were clear of the splash zone, Nobody popped.

They reformed right in front of Lung, wearing their strongest stolen body: a tall dockworker with broad shoulders and a barrel for a chest, so musclebound they could barely reach the back of their own head. The lack of flexibility didn't matter, though.

All that mattered was that this body could carry a lot of grenades.

They probably looked absurd. Bandoliers covered their chest, hung from their neck, wrapped and overlapped around their hips and legs. Dangling straps looped over their arms and elbows and wrists, multiple held tightly in their clenched fists. Each grenade weighed less than two pounds, and this body could hold hundreds all at once.

The weight didn't need to be sustainable. They didn't need to be able to move. It wasn't like they were going to actually hold them for long.

Nobody knew what a grenade felt like in the moment right as it exploded. They'd detonated plenty before. There was no reason to form them with the pins in place. No reason to wait. They created their deadly arsenal with all of the chemical delay fuses already almost, almost complete.

BOOM.

The combined, simultaneous, point-blank detonation of over two hundred grenades threw Lung's enormous bulk clear across the street. Nobody's body became a fine pink mist.

Still less painful than being burned alive.

The effect of multiple localized explosives was greater than the sum of their parts when detonated simultaneously. The individual shock waves built on each other, rebounded off each other, until they formed a blast capable of leveling a skyscraper rather than a small house. Hopefully no one needed these abandoned warehouses for anything, anytime soon.

Hopefully they were actually abandoned.

Nobody popped and reformed right on top of their enemy in an instant.

BOOM.

Rubble rocketed through the air. The ruined street cratered around them. The blast drove Lung further down into the pulverized pavement.

The dogs were definitely out of range now. Good.

There was no limit to how quickly Nobody could pop and reform, aside from the speed of their own perception. They could manage roughly six times per second, as far as they could tell. And every pop brought another earthshaking detonation along with it.

One two three, four five six.

The shrapnel popped with them, but the concussive shock waves didn't. The surrounding air compressed and burned from the pressure, the unstoppable force exploding outward from their dying bodies like a miniature sun. Thunder crashed into the world around them, a devastating blast that echoed with every pop, over and over and over and over.

One two three, four five six.

Nobody became the epicenter of their own personal Armageddon.

One two three, four five six.

The abandoned warehouses around them were obliterated, but they barely noticed. There was nothing but the endless cacophony. They crushed Lung into the earth, vaporizing the concrete, an endless concussive power hammer. They drove him down, down, down, through the pipes, the sewers underneath, then the bedrock under that.

One two three, four five six.

The ground rumbled around them. Their bodies barely existed at all. Flickering this quickly, dying this quickly, over and over… They were not their body.

They were nothing. A ghost in the dying machine. A specter.

They were nobody.

And yet, they continued.

Taylor was almost out of range. They were out of time. Nobody reformed briefly on the surface to check out the results of their fun.

Holy fuck.

Huh. Wasn't that something.

A white-hot crater over a hundred yards deep and more than twice as wide dominated what used to be some kind of industrial park. The ground beneath them was still trembling. Had they caused an earthquake?

That was pretty cool. They probably wouldn't get to do that very often, but…

Well. It was fun to cut loose every once in a while.

They couldn't see Lung at all. He was probably somewhere down there in the molten, pulverized rock, but he might have actually died. Good riddance, regardless.

Taylor hit the edge of their range at top speed, and Nobody got yanked along for the ride.

They refocused, popping away to land on the back of the bike wearing Taylor's body, again. No grenades, this time.

The ice in Taylor's mind hadn't warmed in the slightest.

Right. Emma was still in trouble. Very important.

Party time wasn't over yet.

…

Notes:

Is Nobody's advice always good? No. Its certainly something, though. Things go off the rails, but at least Nobody gets to have some actual fun. Look at them go. Surely this will have no consequences whatsoever. Taylor and Sophia work out some of their issues... sort of. Emma doesn't know how to handle any of this. Madison is here for the drama. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and appreciated. I don't own Worm. Nobody looks sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.

Chapter 17: Shatter 3.5

Shatter 3.5

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Brockton Bay didn't have very many working streetlights.

It was reckless, bordering on idiotic, to go ninety miles per hour down a two lane industrial road in the dark.

Taylor didn't care.

Part of her was spiraling. Wanted to know what the hell Emma had been thinking. Who had taken her, and why? Questions, questions, questions-

But that part was dangerously close to actually thinking, and if she let herself think about it, she'd fall apart.

And Emma didn't have time for that.

So Taylor just gunned the throttle up to a hundred, and flew between two cars with inches to spare.

"And you said I'd get our real body killed," Nobody commented, popping along on the rooftops ahead to watch for possible threats.

Taylor didn't answer. She was cold, inside and out.

Looking through Nobody's eyes as well as her own gave her all the information she needed. She knew the position of every car, every obstacle that could feasibly slow her down. She could see herself, flying over the black asphalt.

She would not crash.

Anytime you want, Tay.

She would not fail.

Nobody spotted a familiar shadow on a rooftop several blocks ahead.

Taylor hit the front and rear breaks, shifting down as she brought the bike skidding to a stop.

She saw the shadow descend in Nobody's eyes as she approached. It reformed and landed heavily on the street just ahead of her.

Damn. Sophia looked like shit.

Nobody popped into existence next to them.

"Did you get on the wrong side of a garbage disposal or something?" Nobody asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity.

The whole left side of Sophia's body was covered in a concerning amount of blood. Even in the dim light, Taylor could see multiple ragged, leaking holes in her costume. Her left arm hung limp at her side, and her leg was bent in a way Taylor was reasonably confident was not part of its intended range of motion.

"Oni Lee," Sophia rasped. "Shrapnel. Fucker got lucky. Called Emma to patch me up, but they found me. Got her. Fuck."

Sophia braced a hand against her chest.

"Shit. Left lung's fucked. Fuck," she coughed.

"You coming, or not?" Taylor said.

She could use the backup, but she didn't have time for Sophia's bullshit.

Sophia glared at her through her cracked mask.

"Of fucking course I'm coming. One sec," Sophia spat.

She ripped the remains of her cape off her shoulders, then tied it tightly to what was left of her left forearm. Sophia lifted her mask and used her teeth to pull the knot tight.

Then she hopped over on her one working leg, throwing her broken leg over the back of the bike and forcibly twisting it into a manageable position. Taylor heard the automatic hiss of pain slip through her teeth, but didn't comment.

Sophia looped the fabric of her ruined cape around Taylor's chest and used it to pull her useless arm tight across the front of Taylor's body. She tied the other end to her belt to hold herself in place on the back of the motorcycle.

"Is that safe?" Nobody wondered aloud.

"Shadow to get free," Sophia wheezed. She didn't even waste words to curse Nobody out. "Need my right hand to shoot."

Sophia pulled out her crossbow and slammed the magazine down into her non-broken leg to chamber the next bolt.

Taylor was done waiting. Emma was getting farther away.

She gunned the throttle and dropped into gear, roaring away with her new passenger tied to her from behind.

"Find them," Taylor commanded Nobody.

"You got it, boss."

The wind howled as they flew down the street. Sophia's slightly unstable weight was difficult to manage, but Taylor didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"White truck," Sophia said in Taylor's ear.

She'd forgotten about throwing her helmet away to answer the phone earlier. Even more reason not to crash.

Every second, Emma was feasibly farther from Nobody's search radius. If they lost her…

Taylor couldn't think about it. They'd find her. What was the fucking point of having powers, if she couldn't save Emma?

What was the point of anything, without her?

Taylor wrenched her spiraling thoughts back from the abyss and accelerated.

"I see it!" Nobody crowed a moment later. "They just turned, heading south on Oakland. Looks like they found some backup, too."

Some of the ice in Taylor's chest thawed, but she didn't let herself get distracted.

She was about to start braking for the turn when Oni Lee appeared in the middle of the intersection just ahead of them, familiar grenades in hand.

Taylor didn't even need to give a verbal command. They were of one mind, focused and connected deeper than ever before. It was hard to tell where her thoughts ended, and theirs began.

Nobody reformed next to the man in the demon mask, a copy of Emma's compact 9mm pistol already raised, and shot him in the head.

Oni Lee exploded into ash. Taylor skidded around the corner and roared away onto a wider four-lane road.

"Stay on him, Nobody. Put him down."

What was one life, compared to Emma's? A hundred lives? A thousand?

Nothing. Insignificant. Irrelevant.

Taylor saw the masked teleporter appear on a rooftop in Nobody's eyes, aiming down at the speeding motorcycle below with his own pistol. The demon didn't hesitate to use lethal force; why should they?

Taylor swerved, and the shot missed by a hair.

Nobody shot Oni Lee again. No quips this time.

Just more ash on the wind.

The distance between them and the box truck closed with every second.

Two black clad men on motorcycles of their own fell back from the transport. The ABB wasn't fucking around tonight, apparently. Why did they take Emma? Was it just because she was there, or to keep Sophia from killing them? Was there another reason?

It didn't really matter.

Nobody chased Oni Lee across the rooftops, trading shots back and forth as they played a deadly, lightning-fast game of tag.

One of the gang members tried to aim back at them with some kind of hand-held submachine gun, but Sophia was faster. The broadhead bolt hit him square in the center of his spine. He and his motorcycle went down in a screaming tumble of limbs and metal.

Did that count as murder? Technically it was Sophia, and it was the asshole's own fault for trying to engage them at such high speeds, but still. Besides, he might still be alive.

Taylor decided she didn't care.

Sophia slammed another bolt into the chamber as they flew between two more cars. The road wasn't exactly crowded, this late at night, but they were moving into more populated areas of the Docks with every second.

The other motorcycle driver swerved back into range, and fired off a rapid burst of deadly lead in their direction. Taylor leaned hard to the right, pulling across the road behind him, and his shots went wide.

She accelerated towards him from behind. Sophia braced her good arm on Taylor's shoulder.

He ducked and swerved to the left just as Sophia fired, and the bolt missed his right arm by inches.

Fuck.

Taylor leaned back to the left and gunned it, following the other driver across two lanes of traffic.

Then she did something that was both very effective and very stupid.

Taylor reached down, grabbed one of her batons from her belt, and shoved it into the ABB driver's back wheel from the side as she passed behind him.

The other bike went down hard in a heavy sideways skid across the asphalt. Taylor just barely managed to pull far enough to the left to avoid the fallout as they passed.

She didn't look back.

"Fuck, Hebert," Sophia coughed appreciatively.

Gaining Sophia's approval for anything was probably a bad sign. Taylor still didn't care.

The truck was in sight, the remaining distance diminishing quickly.

Taylor's mind raced as she drove.

Nobody could pop inside the truck, but what then? The ABB members inside could shoot Emma before Nobody managed to kill all of them. The truck could crash. Oni Lee would take advantage of the opportunity. Grenades were right out, too, for obvious reasons.

They needed to stop the truck relatively safely. At least the cab was separated from the back. Maybe with pepper spray, like she had with Coil's goons?

"Fuck!" Nobody yelled aloud.

Taylor saw their memory of Oni Lee firing on a familiar motorcycle just as her front tire popped underneath her.

Shredded rubber flew in every direction. A piece hit her in the leg.

Sophia turned to shadow. Her weight disappeared from Taylor's back.

Then she was airborne.

Taylor saw herself tumble through Nobody's eyes.

They popped and caught her midair. Their arms wrapped around her, but there was only so much a flesh and blood body could do to mitigate the impact of a high speed crash.

They both skipped across the cracked pavement like stones over flat water. Taylor felt multiple somethings crack. It didn't actually hurt that badly, yet. She was numb. Just a rag doll.

Nobody hit the side of a car, and lost their grip on her.

Taylor kept tumbling. Her head hit something hard and unforgiving. The street? A telephone pole? A building? She couldn't tell. She didn't know which way was up. Her ears were ringing. Everything was deafeningly loud, but also somehow silent, at the same time. Her face felt sticky.

Maybe she shouldn't have gotten rid of her helmet. Whoops.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't feel her lungs at all, actually.

"Taylor!" Nobody screamed in the back of her mind. They sounded very far away.

"Save her, Nobody," Taylor ordered. Her thoughts didn't quite work right, anymore, but hopefully Nobody would understand.

Ice water closed over her head, and Taylor was happy to drown. The world was so, so heavy, sometimes. It was a relief to let it go. She'd tried her best. Living wasn't her job, anymore.

I had strings…

She could barely see. There weren't enough streetlights in Brockton Bay. Somebody should do something about that.

But now I'm free…

The silhouette of the demon man appeared in the corner of her failing vision.

Then he shot her in the head.

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Nobody reformed on a nearby rooftop immediately after their unfortunate run-in with the Toyota Camry just as another gunshot pierced the night.

They felt Taylor die.

They stumbled, clutching their head automatically as a phantom pain lanced behind their eyes.

They tried to pop after her. Maybe they could still…

They couldn't pop. Why couldn't they pop?

They pressed a hand to their chest. Their heart thundered in their ears.

Their real heart.

Because this is our real body, now.

Taylor popped into existence next to them with a strangled gasp.

"Holy shit," she coughed.

You can say that again.

"Holy shit," Taylor breathed. She stared down at her hands with disbelief.

Their projection's hands.

"Holy shit," Nobody said.

A manic smile slowly spread across Taylor's face, and Nobody couldn't help but join her.

They met each other's eyes, through the matching, faceless masks.

They were not their body. Neither of them. They hadn't been, from the very beginning.

One Taylor. One Nobody.

Two bodies.

The strings that held them were gone. They'd never existed in the first place. The only strings that mattered were the ones that tied their minds to each other.

They were both just ghosts, driving their living machines. That was why Nobody existed. That was why there needed to be two of them, acting independently.

Two halves of a whole.

They were both part of Taylor. They were both Nobody.

And they were still themselves. Independent, but still together.

One anchor, and one wayward vessel.

They were both real. They always had been.

We are Specter.

"Holy shit," they both said at the same time.

They could feel the lever, now. The switch. They knew how to swap their anchor point. It would take both of them, working in sync, but…

"Leapfrog?" Nobody suggested.

Taylor didn't answer. She didn't need to. Their minds fit together like puzzle pieces.

Taylor popped and reformed at the edge of their range limit, just over four hundred yards down the road.

Then the world shifted, and Taylor's body became the anchor. Nobody popped…

And landed on the rooftop beside her.

"Fuck. Yes," Nobody grinned widely.

They both stood on the edge of the roof for a moment, just… processing their existence. Identical mirrored masks, black hooded jackets and bulletproof vests. Identical bodies, two faces of the same coin.

Taylor refocused first. She was responsible like that.

"You take Oni Lee. I'll get Emma," Taylor commanded.

"Roger, Roger."

Taylor popped. She appeared in a crouch on the hood of the speeding truck far below, a copy of Emma's matte black pistol in each hand.

She became the anchor, and put two bullets into both the driver and the passenger's chests without hesitation. Spider-web cracks exploded across the windshield.

Nobody popped just as Oni Lee appeared fifty feet down the street in front of the truck. They reformed next to him and shot him in the head. Again.

He exploded into ash. That was getting really fucking annoying.

Nobody took the anchor back.

Taylor popped and landed halfway in the driver's seat of the now swerving truck. She pulled the wheel straight, opened the driver's side door, and pushed the body of the former driver out.

Always wear your seatbelts, kids.

You know, because it might inconvenience the hijacker if you happen to get murdered while you're driving. No other reason.

Taylor didn't think they were very funny, but Nobody disagreed. She became the anchor again.

Oni Lee appeared on top of the truck. Nobody followed.

He shot them in the head as soon as they landed. Damn.

Nobody reformed immediately and kicked him between the legs. It was objectively less effective than just shooting him, but it made them feel better.

They shot him afterwards, anyway, just for good measure.

Taylor slammed on the brakes, and Nobody popped back onto a rooftop to figure out where the infuriating inferior teleporter fucked off to.

Nobody became the anchor. Before the truck even stopped, Taylor popped into the back.

Emma was zip tied at the wrists on the floor near the front of the truck, but seemed relatively unharmed aside from a split lip and a black eye. If she'd had time, Taylor would have breathed a sigh of relief. The gang members had their guns raised towards the back door expectantly.

A pallet stacked high with bricks of white powder dominated the middle of the space. Huh. Maybe grabbing Emma really had just been a crime of opportunity. Or insurance to keep Sophia from crashing the truck.

Too bad the ABB enforcers weren't covering all their angles. They clearly hadn't been trained to handle Movers. You'd think they'd know better, with Oni Lee and everything.

Taylor popped from one enemy to the next with ruthless efficiency, moving from the front of the truck to the rear, and put a bullet in the back of each of their heads before they even realized she was there.

One two three, four five six.

Her mind was still ice cold. Nobody idly wondered if she'd regret that in the morning.

Probably not.

Taylor flickered to summon a knife, and knelt down to cut Emma free.

Nobody caught sight of Oni Lee on the opposite rooftop. Taylor became the anchor, and they popped after him again.

"Hey, Emmi," Taylor raised her mask. She couldn't help reaching down to run one gloved hand over Emma's bloody cheek, just to prove she was real. "Sorry I took so long."

Emma's answering smile was brittle, but genuine. Green, green eyes. She was so fucking beautiful, even like this. Always perfect.

"I can't hear you," Emma said.

Oh. Right. Gunshots were loud as fuck for anyone who couldn't just pop away the hearing loss.

Taylor chuckled, and Nobody felt a huge weight leave her shoulders.

Their shoulders.

Taylor's mind finally thawed.

Nobody popped again. They put another bullet through Oni Lee's forehead, but his real body was already gone. Fuck. They needed to be faster.

Taylor helped Emma to her feet and gestured to the door. They needed to get out of here, sooner rather than later. Luckily, Emma understood.

Pop. Reform. Fire. Ash.

Taylor threw the door open, and Emma hopped down out of the vehicle after her.

Pop. Reform. Fire. Ash.

Oni Lee appeared directly behind Emma, grabbing her with one arm and putting his pistol to her head.

Taylor hesitated.

Nobody hesitated.

Emma didn't.

In one smooth, practiced motion, Emma drew her compact pistol from her purse, put it under Oni Lee's chin, and pulled the trigger.

Crimson rain splattered the back of the truck. Oni Lee's body crumpled to the pavement.

Taylor blinked.

"Damn. You sure can pick 'em, Tay," Nobody commented.

For once, Taylor didn't correct them. She didn't mind.

Damn right, she could. Emma was lethal, like jagged glass, and Taylor loved her. Even the broken parts.

Taylor flickered to get rid of the ringing in her ears.

Wait. That wasn't the only ringing.

Her phone was ringing.

Why the fuck was everyone and their mother calling her tonight? She forgot she even had a phone, most days.

Taylor answered the phone.

"You're about to have company," Lisa said without preamble. "The heroic kind."

Taylor's mind went into overdrive.

If she and Nobody left Emma here, the PRT might try to pin the murders on her. It was Emma's gun that killed the gang members and Oni Lee.

Not an option. She wouldn't abandon Emma again.

New plan.

She needed to be the villain of this story. Better her than Emma.

"Can I trust you?" Taylor asked. The answer didn't really matter, but it would make her feel better.

"Yes," Lisa answered without hesitation.

Taylor nodded to herself.

"See you on the other side, then."

Taylor snapped the phone in half and crushed it under her boot for good measure.

Emma raised her eyebrows. She seemed surprisingly unfazed by all the murder, both Taylor's and her own.

Well, maybe it wasn't too surprising. Sophia said Emma was brutal, and Taylor knew just how sharp she was…

Still. Knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

Taylor and Nobody were of one mind, and they moved in tandem.

Nobody popped into a vacant apartment and took the form of Generic Bald Man #3. Then they took ahold of the anchor.

Taylor popped right in front of Emma. She didn't have time to explain. Hopefully Emma would understand, eventually.

Taylor snatched Emma's gun out of her hands.

Emma's eyes widened with surprise and confusion.

"What-" Emma started.

Taylor pulled the slide back and ejected the live round from the chamber, just in case.

Then she popped behind Emma, and put the gun to her head.

Armsmaster roared around the corner on his motorcycle a split second later, Miss Militia right behind him.

Dauntless landed hard on the roof above them, crackling with lightning in his golden armor.

A red blur materialized to her left. Velocity, the Protectorate's own Mover.

Kid Win flew between the buildings to their right and came to a stop midair, leveling a very dangerous looking cannon at her.

The empty space on another nearby rooftop rippled, and Vista appeared out of thin air along with Clockblocker and Aegis.

The sky was suddenly very crowded. Glory Girl, Laserdream, and Lady Photon arrived in a rough formation, hovering high overhead.

"Wow, even New Wave? You'd think we set off a bomb in the Docks or something," Nobody commented idly.

Taylor almost laughed.

Almost.

"Specter. Release the hostage," Armsmaster's voice echoed through the speakers in his armor.

Taylor's skin itched, but she held herself firmly in place.

They could take them. Taylor knew they could. She and Nobody were unstoppable, together.

But she didn't actually want to kill any heroes. Not even Sophia.

And Emma would get caught in the crossfire.

So, instead, Taylor slowly lowered the gun to the ground, and put her hands behind her head.

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Taylor expected them to take off her mask, but they never did.

Maybe they knew she could escape in a heartbeat, if she really wanted to. The handcuffs were performative.

The silence in the PRT transport van was oppressive. Miss Militia eyed her carefully, gun casually aimed right at her heart.

"Ask them if they can play Piano Man. It's stuck in my head. They gotta have satellite radio in that thing, right?" Nobody thought.

Taylor snorted softly to herself, and the PRT agents tensed. So touchy.

Sure. What the hell. What were they going to do? Shoot her?

"Any chance we can put on some music?" Taylor asked.

If she didn't know better, she might have thought Miss Militia was smiling behind her bandana.

"No," Miss Militia said.

"Cruel and unusual punishment," Nobody commented.

Taylor just leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She tried her best to let the adrenaline rush from the last hour fade, despite her situation.

This was a gamble, but she was reasonably sure she was right. The circumstances of Bakuda's breakout were too suspicious. There was something going on here, behind the scenes, and Taylor wanted in.

It would be worth it, if she could keep Emma out of the spotlight. She might even keep Sophia out of juvie while she was at it. Hopefully Sophia would appreciate it.

Probably not. But it would make Emma happy.

And, even if she was wrong, she could just pop out at any time. The PRT couldn't threaten her, anymore.

Eventually, after a long, music-less ride, the transport pulled into a loading bay under the PRT headquarters. A heavy automatic door closed behind them with a sense of finality.

As if Nobody wasn't sitting in an empty office in the building across the street, smoking a cigarette.

The PRT headquarters' interior was sleek and utilitarian, all white walls and gray linoleum. At least, the prisoner drop off area was. The gift shop was probably nicer.

"Want me to buy you an Armsmaster plushie to commemorate the occasion?" Nobody grinned.

"If it wasn't 1:00 in the morning, maybe," Taylor thought.

Miss Militia spoke to one of the agents for a moment, then disappeared down a different hallway.

"Follow us, please," PRT Agent Number One said.

So polite. Almost like they knew she could level the building with a thought.

She and the two remaining PRT agents made their way to a very fancy Tinkertech elevator. Excellent budget allocation.

Nobody's attitude was definitely leaking into her subconscious. Or maybe that was just a side effect of dying.

They took the elevator directly to the top floor. She'd been expecting an interrogation room.

"The Director is expecting you," PRT Agent Number Two said.

Well. Wasn't that interesting.

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

The Director of the ENE Parahuman Response Team was a tall, thin black man with a cleanly shaven head and face. His light tan suit was immaculate, despite the late hour.

Taylor eyed him warily as she slowly took a seat in the plush armchair across from him at his desk.

PRT Agents One and Two left the office without a word. At least they took her handcuffs with them.

The door clicked shut softly, and they were alone.

The Director hadn't looked at her yet, focused almost absentmindedly on the monitor to his right. It was both unnerving and comforting at the same time.

He apparently finished with whatever he was reading, and turned slightly in his high backed desk chair to face her. His stare was shrewd and calculating, but not overtly malicious. Like he was looking straight through her.

"I believe you and I are overdue for a frank conversation, Ms. Hebert," the Director said.

Well. That confirmed at least one of her theories. The PRT knew who she was, and left her to operate in her civilian identity anyway. It seemed unlikely that they hadn't noticed something, given how often she and Sophia fought.

Taylor didn't answer right away. She was the one with the questions, and she was reasonably confident this man had the answers.

"My name is Thomas Calvert," the Director continued. "In addition to being the Director of the PRT ENE, I operate under the villain codename Coil. I am also the Undersider's Boss."

Huh.

"Hot damn," Nobody whistled.

"You're a parahuman?" Taylor asked coldly. She didn't allow any of her tumultuous emotions to reach her face, even behind her mask. She was the one in control, here.

"No. And we're all better off for it. It is not parahuman abilities that make a man," Calvert said. "I have always believed that powers inevitably become a crutch. A cape is only ever just a cape, while a human can be so much more. We didn't become the dominant species on this planet because we were stronger than our opposition, Ms. Hebert."

Taylor agreed, but that didn't mean she had to show it.

"Why?" She demanded after a moment.

Why form the Undersiders in the first place?

Why order them to steal from himself?

What game was Coil… Calvert playing?

The Director leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. His fingernails were perfectly trimmed and manicured.

"I learned a long time ago that one catches significantly more flies with honey than vinegar. I may not be a good man, Ms. Hebert, but I am a pragmatic one, and I think you will find that preferable, in the long run. It's ironic, how often the most beneficial path for all parties is, in fact, the benevolent one. Unnecessary evil is rarely productive," Calvert said.

That was interesting, but irrelevant.

"The Undersiders?" Taylor asked. She wasn't here for a philosophy lesson.

"I originally approached Ms. Wilbourn with a mutually beneficial proposal. She would form an independent villain team for me, with the promise of funds, support, and protection if she or her team were ever arrested. In return, she would help me execute my agenda," Calvert explained. "She was reluctant, at first, but the agreement was ultimately skewed in her favor. Honey, instead of vinegar. Compromise, rather than coercion."

"Your agenda?"

Calvert's stare never wavered.

"Contrary to popular belief, the PRT does not exist to eradicate the threat of unlawful parahuman activity. It exists to maintain a tolerable status quo, in which the average unpowered humans are able to go about their daily lives without parahuman interference. There will always be villains, so in turn, there must always be heroes to fight them."

Taylor sucked in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it free. She'd suspected, but hearing it confirmed was… Well, she didn't know how to feel about that.

"It's all a game," Taylor breathed.

"Yes, although one the majority of participants don't realize they're playing. Lung. Kaiser. Arrogant fools who think their little organizations matter, in the grand scheme of things. They are a nuisance," Calvert sneered ever so slightly. "One I've been working diligently with Ms. Wilbourn to eradicate."

"Medhall?"

"A front for the Empire. Your little escapade, or, I suppose, Nobody's, provided me with the necessary information to discern the Empire capes' civilian identities. And yes, I know you're watching, Nobody. Good morning to you, as well."

"Tell him I'm going to steal his body and go to a strip club."

"No."

"Bakuda?" Taylor asked.

"Works for me, now. Willingly, I might add, under my organization as Coil. She wasn't happy with Lung's style of leadership. I utilized the Undersiders to free her to shift Lung's attention onto you, rather than the PRT or Coil."

That was… suspicious. And manipulative.

"Which brings us back to the events of this morning," Calvert continued. "You and your 'friend' caused quite a stir, Ms. Hebert."

Taylor honestly wasn't sure if he was talking about Nobody, Emma, or Sophia, at this point.

Something else was itching in the back of her mind, though.

"Did you leak the Undersiders' location to the ABB?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," Calvert admitted easily.

Taylor didn't know if she liked this 'pragmatic' bastard or not.

"Why?" She asked again. She was getting a bit sick of having half the answers. So far, this conversation just raised even more questions.

"I believed it was a good opportunity to remove Lung and Oni Lee from play. Lung is dead, in case you were wondering," Calvert said casually, as if they were discussing the weather or a mildly interesting tax policy rather than the murder of a major parahuman crime boss. "I expected them to attack you together while Ms. Hess handled the incoming narcotics shipment, but they split up, instead. Ultimately, however, I'm pleased with the outcome."

Taylor still didn't like this. It felt too close to home. A betrayal, no matter how justified.

"You could have gotten someone killed," Taylor ground out.

Emma. Lisa. Her.

She'd forgotten about the whole dying thing. Taylor put that in the pit to deal with later.

"I did, in fact, get multiple people killed," Calvert reminded her. "People killed by you, Ms. Hebert."

Right. Maybe she didn't have much of a leg to stand on, there.

"Lung's dead?" Taylor couldn't help but ask.

"You detonated roughly the equivalent of thirty tactical ordinance strikes within the span of five seconds at point blank range. The combined PSI liquified his brain and destroyed the Corona Pollentia, disabling his regeneration."

Oh.

That was… a lot. Taylor decided to ignore it.

"What happens now?" Taylor asked. She was tired, mentally, even if her body wasn't.

"The way I see it, you have four options," Calvert leaned back and steepled his fingers. Pretentious fucker. "You could kill me and escape right now, which would gain you quite a few enemies and remove your safety nets. You could also escape without killing me, of course, but that would be illogical and ultimately worse for you, given what I know. I wouldn't necessarily recommend either of those options, but they are technically available to you."

Calvert liked the sound of his own voice, Taylor decided.

"However, the two most beneficial options for you are to 'escape' with the help of the Undersiders, and utilize your increased standing in the cape scene to continue our arrangement on a wider scale. Ideally, eventually, all cape conflicts in Brockton Bay will become part of our farce, with you and the Undersiders in one corner, Coil and his mercenaries in another, both combated by the PRT and the Protectorate heroes. Any new parahumans will be subsumed into one of the existing organizations under our purview, and, in the event of invasion by outside forces, we will have the combined firepower necessary to ward them off. In the meantime, we will work together to preserve a status quo that is tolerable to the average citizen."

That sounded… irritatingly appealing, actually. Like she was getting the best of both worlds. Taylor didn't trust it.

"What's the final option?" Taylor narrowed her eyes behind her mask.

"You join the Wards under a probationary contract, and we both forget this conversation ever happened," Calvert said.

Taylor mulled his words over in her mind.

"What about Emma Barnes?" Taylor asked after a moment.

"What about her?" Calvert raised an eyebrow.

So they were going to pretend that part didn't happen. That was… good.

"Sophia Hess?"

"An exemplary Ward, despite her attitude. Any gang members who happen to die in her vicinity are purely happenstance."

Taylor couldn't help but snort softly at that. She wondered if Sophia even knew her extracurricular activities were being manipulated and sanctioned by the Director. Probably not. That was kind of funny.

"What do you think, Nobody?"

"You already know what I want," Nobody took another drag from their imaginary cigarette. Actually, they were the anchor, currently… Did that make it a real cigarette? "I like this game."

"Me, too," Taylor admitted. It wasn't part of her original plan, but being a villain was… fun. "Want to keep playing?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

…

Saturday, May 7th, 2011.

Taylor popped and landed silently in a familiar bedroom.

Nobody stared up at the stars from their favorite picnic table in the park down the road.

The clock on Emma's bedside table scattered faint light across the messy room.

4:09 AM

Taylor didn't know if she needed to sleep, anymore. She and Nobody could swap whenever they wanted, for a quick refresh.

Other applications of their newfound dichotomy could be explored later. For now, they had more important things to do.

The lights were out, but Emma wasn't asleep. Taylor could see her eyes peaking out from under the nest of soft things.

Screw the original plan. What was the point of letting Emma come to her senses at her own pace? Either of them could have died, tonight. Taylor did die, sort of.

She couldn't imagine a future where she never got to kiss Emma again.

Taylor flickered, and reformed wearing an old T-shirt and sweats instead of her costume.

Then she took a steadying breath, steeled herself, and climbed onto the bed beside Emma. She slid carefully under the blankets on her side, so they were face to face, just inches away. Like they were kids again, huddled away in their own little world in the dark.

Emma didn't object.

"Hey," Taylor whispered anticlimactically.

"Hey," Emma breathed. Her eyes were wide, staring into Taylor's with an unreadable expression.

They both just lay there in silence for a while.

"I know what you said," Taylor started slowly. "And maybe you're right. I can't say 'no' to you. Maybe I deserve better… but I need you to believe that I don't care."

Taylor did her best to keep her voice even, despite the fire burning behind her words.

"I don't care if you're poison. I don't care if you hurt me. I want you, all of you, and that's never, ever going to change."

"Tay…" Emma said. It still didn't sound like she was complaining, though.

"I told you. Suffering alone is so much worse than suffering with you," Taylor cut her off. She needed Emma to believe her.

"I fucked everything up," Emma's eyes watered. "I… So much, Tay. I did so many awful… I… fuck."

Emma took a shuddering breath. The tears leaked down into her pillow.

"I hurt you. Over and over and over. For no reason," Emma choked out. "And I'm s-so, so sorry. I don't know why I..."

"I know," Taylor said.

Taylor believed her, for once. This wasn't part of Emma's game. No more facades.

"You shouldn't… You should hate me. You should leave and never, ever want to see me again. You shouldn't be…" Emma stumbled over her words. She closed her eyes, hiding, in the dark.

Taylor reached up and ran her fingertips gently down the edge of Emma's jawline to her chin. Touching her still burned. Her skin was so soft.

"Look at me, please," Taylor whispered.

Emma's eyes opened immediately.

"I know," Taylor repeated. "But I don't. Not anymore."

Green was still her favorite color.

"I don't deserve…" Emma trailed off.

"Too fucking bad, Emmi," Taylor's lips curled up at the corner, despite everything. "I love you. So, so much. I always have, and I always will. You make me feel alive, and there's not a fucking thing you can do about it."

Emma's eyes watered again, but it seemed… better, this time.

Taylor wrapped an arm around Emma's waist under the blanket, and pulled her towards her until their legs tangled together. Her body was on fire, and Emma fit against her perfectly.

Like puzzle pieces. Shattered glass, rearranged and reforged into something beautiful.

"Anytime I want, right?" Taylor asked quietly.

Just in case.

Emma stared back at her, broken and happy and uncertain and perfect, all at once.

Her Emma.

No matter who Emma was, who she became, she would always be hers.

"Anything," Emma breathed.

Taylor didn't need anything else. Just her.

She closed the last of the distance between them, slowly. She savored every moment, every stolen joy. The taste, the way Emma's lips molded themselves to hers, warm breath ghosting over her cheek… Taylor kissed her, drowned in her, and the flames burned her alive.

Emma was everything she'd ever wanted. Everything she would ever want.

And that was never going to change.

I miss you.

All the time.

Never, again.

…

Notes:

And so, all the cards are on the table. This is the final 'normal' chapter, but there will be at least one epilogue. I never intended for this to be a long story (although it's currently the length of most novels). It's the story of Taylor and Nobody learning to be functional people together, figuring out their relationship with Emma, and cementing their place with the Undersiders. I had a lot of fun with this story, and I hope you did, too. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody thinks you did a good job, today. Well done.

Chapter 18: Epilogue 1

Epilogue 1

Thursday, August 18th, 2011.

The office that dominated the top floor of the Medhall skyscraper was tastefully decorated. Taylor was surprised. Apparently even Kaiser was capable of being subtle.

"Come back, Tin Man! I haven't given you your heart yet!" Nobody yelled gleefully on the rooftop helipad.

Taylor sighed and became the anchor, again. Nobody just couldn't help themselves.

Sure enough, a spike of cold steel impaled them clean through the middle from below a moment later.

They popped and reformed, leaning casually against the helicopter behind the fuming form of Max Anders.

"Damn. At least buy me dinner first," Nobody drawled.

Taylor just shook her head. Some things never changed.

Whatever. Nobody could handle it. This was the last step of the plan, and it wasn't like Max had anywhere to run.

His Gesellschaft reinforcements weren't coming. Calvert and his pet heroes had seen to that.

Taylor still didn't like the Director all that much, but so far he hadn't lied to her, that she could tell. He talked too much, and he was definitely a bastard, but at least he seemed like a pragmatic one.

"I'll tear you to pieces!" Kaiser yelled on the roof, metal exploding around him in a living blender. "Insolent, obnoxious-"

Cornered rats lost their remaining civility so quickly.

Taylor popped a flash drive into Max's computer and flopped back in his luxurious desk chair. Was this memory foam?

"Yes. He had it custom made last year," Lisa's voice chimed in through her earpiece.

Figuring out Bluetooth was a game changer. She definitely should have done this sooner.

"Some of us aren't eighty years old at heart," Lisa said. Taylor could hear her rolling her eyes.

"Just because I refuse to get a PHO account doesn't mean-"

Taylor's other phone rang. She'd finally caved to Emma's pleading and purchased a civilian line. She could even text, even though she preferred not to.

Speak of the devil…

"Hey, Ems," Taylor greeted.

"Everything okay over there? You said you'd be back an hour ago," Emma said.

"Yeah. Nobody's finishing up with the crown-prince of assholes now. You know they like playing with their food," Taylor grinned.

"Well, tell them to hurry up. I want to go to bed," Emma said.

Taylor's stomach twisted. It wasn't fair that Emma could still tie her into knots so easily.

"You know you could just-"

"Shut up. It's not the same without you."

That shouldn't make Taylor smile like a lunatic behind her mask, but it did.

At some point, her father was going to realize she didn't spend her nights at home, anymore. She should probably just tell him. What was he going to do? Rat her out to the PRT?

That would be a hilarious conversation with Calvert.

Of course, she could just tell her father she was sleeping at her girlfriend's house, rather than the fact that she was out fighting Nazis and pretending to fight heroes. Well, not really pretending. Actually fighting heroes, but like, as enrichment. For them. Gotta give them something to do so they didn't get their budget cut.

On the roof, Nobody popped and reformed in the body of a plain woman with straight brown hair, wearing a white bodysuit.

"Aww, do you like this look better, Maxie?" Nobody bit their lip. "I'd never sell you out to the PRT to keep you from psychologically abusing our daughter like you did poor Theo. Promise!"

Kaiser screamed wordlessly with a surprisingly strong combination of helpless rage and something close to grief. Taylor hadn't thought he actually cared.

Oh, well. Shouldn't have been an asshole. Or a Nazi.

Still. This was getting a bit unnecessary. And time consuming.

"Nobody…" Taylor chided them internally.

"Fine, fine, fine. Spoilsport," Nobody sighed.

They popped into the helicopter and grabbed the aerosol canister they'd stashed there while the getaway chopper was still at the airport, yesterday.

Nobody tossed it towards Kaiser, between the spinning blades, then popped and caught it right in his face.

"Hey, Max, does this smell like chloroform?"

It wasn't chloroform. It was a Tinkertech knockout gas Bakuda created for one of her grenades.

"Download complete," Lisa said in Taylor's ear.

As Kaiser slumped inside his armor, Taylor took the flash drive back out of his computer. He really should have smashed that before running for the roof. Rookie mistake.

"You're talking to them now, aren't you?" Emma said.

"Sorry. Multitasking," Taylor replied distractedly. "Almost done, though. I'll be home in thirty."

Home.

Wherever Emma was felt like home.

"That's so long, though," Emma whined. "Would you go any faster if I told you I-"

"It'll be longer if you keep distracting me," Taylor cut her off before she could say anything too embarrassing within Lisa's range. Taylor couldn't quite stop smiling, though.

"You're both disgusting," Lisa said in Taylor's other ear.

"How do you think I feel?" Nobody commented as they loaded Max's unconscious body into his own escape helicopter, armor and all.

"It's not my fault happiness nauseates you," Taylor said.

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Nobody smirked. "Besides, I'm not the one who threw up after-"

"We agreed never to speak of that," Taylor jogged up the stairs to the roof access. She couldn't pop with the flash drive.

"Did we? Must have slipped our mind," Nobody hummed thoughtfully.

Little shit.

Nobody pushed the unconscious pilot out of the cockpit. The rotors began to spin.

"Is that a helicopter?" Emma asked.

"It's a long story. I'll be home soon. Love you!" Taylor yelled over the whirring metal.

"Love you, too," Emma laughed. "Tell Nobody I'll kill them if they crash."

"I'll have you know, I learned how to fly a helicopter yesterday," Nobody quipped, flipping switches on the dash. "And I've played lots of GTA with Alec."

Taylor double checked that Kaiser was secure, then hopped over the console to ride shotgun. Did it still count as shotgun in a helicopter?

"We'll be fine," Taylor yelled into the phone. "Bye, Emmi!"

"See you on the other side, Specter," Lisa said.

Taylor hung up both lines before she could get roped into another conversation.

"Ready?" Taylor didn't bother buckling her harness. Like Nobody always said, seatbelts were for mere mortals.

Nobody grinned under their mask.

"Rock and roll, baby!"

The helicopter lurched wildly off the platform into the empty night, and Taylor definitely didn't scream.

…

Tuesday, December 31st, 2013.

"Taylor! Come do another shot with us!" Nobody called from the kitchen.

Taylor really didn't want to move. She was quite comfortable, currently.

So, instead of answering, she just hugged Emma tighter around the middle.

"You can't be down for the count already," Madison said from somewhere to her left. "It's not even eleven o'clock yet. Aren't you supposed to be some badass gang boss or whatever? Lame."

"It's not her fault our fearless leader is a lightweight," Lisa said. Taylor could hear the crooked smile in her voice.

Taylor raised her head high enough off Emma's stomach to glare at her traitorous best friend and lieutenant.

Well, best friend aside from Emma. And Nobody, sort of. But they were different, each in their own way.

The living room of her and Emma's house was much more crowded than usual. The Undersiders lounged across the various pieces of furniture with impressively appalling posture. Madison was having a great time trying to get Alec to crack. Sophia and Rachel both looked decidedly uncomfortable, but they'd survive. Probably.

Secret identities stopped mattering nearly as much when the Director of the PRT was also a villain.

Nobody bounced around the corner, half-empty bottle of whipped cream vodka in hand. They wore a custom body today. Short, thin, and androgynous, with pure white hair and delicate features. They, in their own words, wanted to look like 'an anime character specifically designed to confuse everyone regardless of preference'.

"I think maybe you've had enough as it is," Brian said.

"Absolutely fucking not!" Nobody yelled. "I've committed to this body for the evening, and I'm gonna do my damnedest to fuck it up!"

They couldn't pop without removing the alcohol from their system. Or intentionally creating a body with a high BAC, which defeated the whole point, apparently.

"Take the anchor, please," Taylor whined. The room was spinning. "I don't want to play anymore."

"Hell no, you agreed to this, too," Nobody hopped up on the back of the couch like a gremlin. "Boot and rally! We gotta make it to midnight!"

"I hate you," Taylor moaned, letting her head fall back into Emma's lap.

Emma just giggled and ran her fingers through Taylor's hair. It felt nice.

"I'm down," Aisha said, appearing out of nowhere behind Nobody's shoulder. "Shots?"

Nobody screamed and dropped the bottle. Luckily, it didn't break. Mainly because it landed on Taylor's foot.

Oh. Right. Aisha existed. Taylor had forgotten.

"Are you challenging me, my nemesis?" Nobody spun to face Aisha dramatically.

"You wish. Besides, my nemesis is obviously Sophia," Aisha deadpanned.

Sophia just glared at her. Still, she didn't try to shoot her, which was an improvement. Baby steps.

"You wound me!" Nobody scooped up the fallen vodka, unscrewed the lid, and took a hearty swig straight from the bottle. "Take that, backstabber!"

"I didn't even-" Aisha started.

But Nobody was already gone, skipping away into the kitchen again and yelling something about cigarettes.

"Lisa, could you…" Taylor gestured vaguely towards the doorway.

"I'll take care of it," Lisa grinned and gave Taylor's hand a squeeze on the way past.

That was nice. It was good to have friends.

"You don't have to stay up until midnight if you don't want to," Emma leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Taylor shivered, even though she was very, very warm.

"Don't want to ruin the party," Taylor mumbled.

"Nobody's probably going to do that all on their own. As long as they don't burn the house down, it'll be fine," Emma said.

"Hmmmm," Taylor hummed noncommittally, burrowing back into the fabric of Emma's shirt over her stomach.

Emma was so soft, even if she was still sharp, underneath.

But now, her edges weren't aimed at Taylor, anymore. It was wonderful. She was wonderful.

"I know I am," Emma grinned. "But we should probably go to bed. You're narrating."

"Am not," Taylor said.

"So I'm not wonderful?"

"No. Totally evil," Taylor mumbled.

"You love me, anyway," Emma kissed her hair.

"Yeah, yeah."

Taylor suddenly realized she was standing. When had that happened?

"We're turning in," Emma called to the room at large. "Don't destroy the house. Some of us have to live here tomorrow."

It seemed stupid to live in the dorms when Taylor had more than enough money to buy a house, and it seemed stupid for Emma to live in the dorms when she would've just spent every night at Taylor's anyway, so…

So they were roommates. Housemates? Who totally had separate bedrooms that both had beds that absolutely got slept in. Hundred percent.

"Scout's honor," Alec called from the armchair by the TV, PlayStation controller in hand. "The only thing getting destroyed here is Brian's ass."

"Don't… say it like that, please," Brian groaned, furiously mashing buttons on his own controller.

"What? You don't like the idea of…"

Taylor couldn't hear them anymore. She was too focused on climbing the stairs. Were stairs always this hard?

"Drink some water, take some ibuprofen, and brush your teeth. It makes a big difference," Emma said as she guided Taylor to the bathroom.

"I'll just pop in the morning," Taylor said. Her voice barely slurred at all. Score.

"Still. Who knows how long it will take Nobody to slow down," Emma pointed out.

True.

Taylor managed to brush her teeth and take some ibuprofen without cracking her skull on the sink. Sweet Victory.

She stumbled back into their bedroom and flopped on the bed. It was easily the most comfortable thing she'd ever felt.

"Are you gonna sleep in jeans?" Emma asked.

Her voice was so pretty.

"Mmmhmmm," Taylor hummed in affirmation. She didn't want to move.

Emma just laughed, and Taylor felt a weight on the bed next to her.

Soft arms wrapped around her, and Taylor buried her face in Emma's collarbone.

Cherries, and almonds, and Emma. She was so fucking perfect.

"I'm glad you think so," Emma whispered from somewhere over her right ear.

Oh. Right. She was probably narrating again.

"Thanks for taking care of me," Taylor mumbled. Usually it was the other way around, but this was… nice. "'m so lucky. My Emma."

"I'm the lucky one," Emma's voice was low, and too intense for Taylor's current level of sobriety. Or lack thereof.

Apparently, somewhere along the line, she'd started trusting Emma again. When had that happened?

It didn't matter. It made her happy.

Taylor felt herself drifting away.

"Thank you for loving me," Taylor whispered.

She felt Emma's lips on her forehead.

"You deserve it," Emma said. "Happy New Year, Tay."

Taylor was going to answer, but instead, she fell asleep.

…

Saturday, July 19th, 2014.

Taylor hummed along with the Bluetooth speaker as she carefully separated the egg whites from the yolks. Emma's current song of the week was some Irish pop group, and they were pretty good. Emma also wanted an egg white only omelet, something about cholesterol, or whatever. Taylor was doubtful, but it wasn't too much extra effort.

She leaned over and took another sip of her tea before checking to make sure the hash browns in the other pan weren't burning.

Lazy mornings were getting more and more common, especially now that classes were over for the summer. Her jobs with the Undersiders didn't actually take all that many man-hours, and very rarely demanded her attention at 9:00 on a Saturday morning.

Emma padded into the kitchen and kissed the back of her neck on her way to the coffee pot. A shiver sped down Taylor's spine, even at such a little thing.

"Morning," Taylor greeted, adding the egg whites to the pan.

Emma added her flavored creamer and took a careful sip. She closed her eyes and groaned appreciatively.

"You're a saint," Emma opened her eyes and smiled at her. "How is it always so much better when you make it?"

"Maybe because I actually look up the correct ratios and measure the grounds?" Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"See? A saint," Emma kissed her again on the way to the table. "What's Nobody up to?"

Taylor wasn't actually sure.

"They're…"

Taylor paused. Nobody was…

"Nobody, why is there a trampoline in the back yard?" Taylor let her exasperation leak through. That was going to drive their insurance premiums through the metaphorical roof.

"They were on sale at Costco. And by 'on sale', I mean I totally pirated it," Nobody did a back flip.

"When did you go to Costco?"

"You drove past one on the way to the beach last month."

"You've been hoarding a trampoline up your ass for a month?" Taylor sighed internally.

"I got distracted."

"Nobody's fine," Taylor said. She wasn't going to bother explaining all that.

"I'm sure," Emma replied dryly. She could always tell when Nobody was up to something ridiculous, but she was a surprisingly good sport about it.

Not that Emma hadn't known what she was getting herself into. She'd agreed to it. Parahuman voyeurism and all that.

Taylor added spinach and feta to the pan and let it wilt down. When it was ready, she slid the omelet and a serving of hash browns onto a plate. She slid the full plate in front of Emma and topped up her coffee on the way past.

"You're so good," Emma smiled up from her phone.

"I'm a villain, didn't you know?" Taylor grinned down at her. She stole another kiss before she made her way back to the stove to start on her own omelet. "I humiliate heroes and steal from poor, innocent millionaires."

"An absolute monster," Emma laughed.

She took a bite and groaned again.

"A monster that makes awesome breakfasts," Emma mumbled through her food.

"I'm good at everything, remember?" Taylor chuckled and leaned against the counter.

They fell into an easy silence. Emma scrolled on her phone. Taylor stared at Emma.

She was just so… perfect. Beautiful. Soft. Red hair still slightly messy from bed, pale skin and freckles, stolen T-shirt and old sweat pants.

No one else got to see Emma like this. Emma was hers.

As long as Taylor got to keep her forever, she'd never need anything else.

"We should get married."

The words popped out of Taylor's mouth before she even realized what she was saying.

Emma froze, her coffee halfway to her lips.

Nobody tried to cackle mid-backflip, floundered, and ended up launching themselves sideways off the trampoline, directly into the fence surrounding the backyard. They'd be fine. Probably.

Fuck.

That was… probably not the right way to say that. Shit. Taylor's brain automatically dropped into damage control mode.

"I mean, we already live together, so it wouldn't be like anything would really change, and we've been together for years, and it's not like that's going to change, and I just think, with everything-"

"Tay," Emma said quietly. "Shut up."

Right. Yeah. Good idea, Emma.

Emma put her coffee down and stood up. She turned to face Taylor from across the kitchen. Her face was a weird mix of wide-eyed shock, repressed humor, and something else that Taylor couldn't place.

"Say it again," Emma whispered.

Okay. That wasn't so hard. Taylor could do that.

"We should get married," Taylor said.

Emma bit her lip, and her lips curled up at the edges.

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" Emma asked.

Oh. Yeah. Taylor probably should have led with that. But she hadn't been planning to ask at all! Definitely not today, this morning, without thinking, without planning, without…

Emma didn't actually like questions, though.

Taylor forced herself to focus. To be present. This was important.

"I want you to marry me," Taylor said resolutely.

Emma closed the distance between them with precise, careful steps. Taylor wrapped her arms around her waist automatically, when she got within range.

Taylor's gaze bounced from Emma's eyes to her nose to her lips and back to her eyes, and she fell into her favorite emerald depths. A familiar fire coiled deep in her stomach.

Emma always made her feel alive.

"Say it again," Emma breathed. She was so, so close now.

"Marry me," Taylor said, reaching up to cup Emma's chin and tilt her head back, pulling her face even closer. Emma's skin burned under her fingers. "Please."

Emma kissed her without answering, but Taylor already knew what her answer would be. She knew everything about Emma. Her Emma. And she was going to keep her, forever.

Her lips were so soft, always burning, happy and intense and eager all at once. She tasted like coffee, and Emma, and Taylor would never, ever get enough.

She still felt like a miser, some days, greedily counting her stolen kisses like something was going to come along and steal her happiness away.

But Emma would always be here. Always be hers. No more running away, no more games.

Emma pulled back just enough to break the burning touch between them, and Taylor opened her eyes.

Perfect, beautiful emerald stared back.

"Anytime you want, Tay."

…

Monday, September 14th, 2020.

An anguished cry pierced the previously silent night.

Nobody sighed and put their cigarette out on the shingles next to them.

No smoking around Annie, Nobody. We don't know if it could affect her development.

Don't pop while you're holding Annie, Nobody. It's not worth the risk.

Don't let Annie play with grenades, Nobody. I can't believe I even have to explain that.

Cruel and unusual punishment, honestly. No sense of whimsy at all.

Nobody popped and reformed in the nursery in the house below.

"Hey, dude," Nobody scooped Annie out of her crib with practiced ease. "You're, like, really loud. You know that?"

Annie stopped crying for a moment and just stared at them blankly.

For short, naive second, Nobody thought they might be out of the woods.

Then Annie opened her tiny mouth and screamed directly in their face at roughly the same volume as an air raid siren.

"Like mother, like daughter," Nobody chuckled. "Are you actually hungry, or do you just need attention?"

Annie made an unintelligible burbling sound. Well, all of her sounds were unintelligible, technically, given the whole 'not knowing how to talk' thing.

"Nobody? You got her?" Emma shuffled down the hall with bleary eyes.

"She might want to eat," Nobody said.

Emma was stuck on feeding duty. Something, something, don't give the human baby weird parahuman projection milk.

Emma never complained, though.

Nobody appreciated that Emma honestly seemed sorry for what she'd done to Taylor, all those years ago. They'd never love Emma the way Taylor did, thank God, but she was… good, for Taylor, overall. It just took a while to get there.

Emma took Annie and settled down on the couch in the living room. Nobody popped into the kitchen to grab Emma a snack and some water.

They hummed tunelessly while they hunted, then wandered back into the living room with their delivery the old fashioned way. Still couldn't pop while holding food.

"Thanks," Emma said quietly.

Nobody nodded and flopped down in the armchair.

The dim living room was quiet, for a while. The early morning hours were always peaceful.

"Thank you," Emma said again. "For more than just… You make everything a lot easier, you know?"

Nobody blinked and refocused on Taylor's wife.

"That's new," they smiled crookedly. "I'm not sure Taylor would agree."

"She does. You know she does, better than I do, even if you don't think about it," Emma said, looking down at Annie. "You're so good with her."

That actually was new. Nobody got the distinct impression that Taylor didn't trust them with her daughter.

It was weirdly comforting that Emma disagreed. They didn't know what to say to that.

"It's the least I can do," Nobody shrugged.

Emma nodded, and reached down to push the tiny mop of black curls out of Annie's face.

"Everybody needs someone who's always in their corner," Emma whispered. "You'll be the best, weirdest, coolest Somebody ever, for her. I know you will."

Wow.

Nobody really didn't know what to say to that, so they didn't say anything at all.

…

Sunday, December 22nd, 2024

Annie was staring at them with a weird intensity for a four year old.

Jet black curls, and bright green eyes. The best of both worlds, in Nobody's opinion.

She was a bit of an odd kid, but that was par for the course, as far as Nobody was concerned. Taylor and Emma were both pretty strange, in their own way.

Surely it wasn't their fault. Not in the slightest.

"Are you real?" Annie asked very seriously.

Nobody choked on their own spit.

"I dunno. Why do you ask?" They said.

"You pop. You do magic. And you look weird. And sometimes you look like Mum," Annie said. She'd recently decided that Mum and Mom were better than Momma and Mummy. Taylor was pretending to be fine with that. "I asked Dee, and he said he doesn't have a Nobody."

"Want to know a secret?" Nobody grinned, sliding down off the couch to sit next to Annie on the living room floor.

Emma and Taylor were having fun cleaning up from dinner. Nobody could hear them laughing, could see Emma shining through Taylor's eyes.

Emma always lit up everything, from Taylor's perspective. Some things never changed.

"Of course," Annie bounced onto her knees and turned towards them.

"Nobody else has a Nobody," Nobody said conspiratorially. "I'm the only one."

"Really?"

Nobody nodded.

"I'm a figment of your Mum's imagination," Nobody continued. "She wanted a friend so bad, she made me."

"Wow," Annie said.

Taylor was probably going to kill them when she remembered this, but it was fun, in the meantime.

"Do I get a friend, too?" Annie asked after a moment.

"Of course!" Nobody wrapped their arm around her thin shoulders. "You get me! Am I not cool enough for you?"

"No! I mean, yeah, I mean…" Annie looked worried. She was so cute.

"Tell you what. You keep being awesome, and I'll always be here to be awesome with you. Sound good?" Nobody said.

"Yeah!" Annie yelled.

"Excellent. Now…"

Nobody popped and reformed holding several over-filled water balloons.

"I think your moms are having far too much fun in there without us. Want to help me keep them on their toes?" Nobody lowered their voice and held out a balloon.

"Yeah," Annie said again, whispering now.

"Good. Good. You get Mum, and I'll get Mom. Do you accept your mission, Private Annie?" Nobody said seriously.

"Yeah! I mean, aye aye, Captain," Annie couldn't hold back a giggle.

"Awesome. On my Mark, then. Three… two… one…"

Nobody and Annie charged into the kitchen. There was a lot of screaming. And some cursing. And to think, Taylor gave them shit for cursing around Annie. Pot, meet kettle.

Taylor should really know better than to leave them unattended, by now.

…

Monday, August 18th, 2025.

Taylor tried not to let it get to her as she watched Annie head through the front doors of the local elementary school. At least it was a lot nicer than Winslow.

She'd known this day was coming, obviously. Annie had been practically bouncing off the walls for the last week.

School was still something new and exciting, for Annie. It was… refreshing, to see the world through her eyes. Lighter.

And now she was going to school, and Taylor had all day to do… whatever she wanted.

She knew, objectively, that she had way more free time than most parents. Writing wasn't exactly a time consuming job, compared to some, and they didn't need the money. Emma's fashion design firm was similarly laid back. They could afford to use their civilian jobs as hobbies, rather than a constant grind.

Her real work usually took place at night, and even that wasn't nearly as onerous as most jobs. Robbing the occasional bank or kicking the shit out of any villains that tried to butt into her territory wasn't all that time consuming, either.

Plus, they had Nobody. Having a constant, unsleeping, always-enthusiastic presence made parenting… fun. More fun than it would be, otherwise.

Nobody didn't try to be a parent. They wouldn't be any good at it, anyway. They left that part to Taylor and Emma.

They were just… always there. To help, to take the load off. Whatever was needed. And, of course, Annie loved them. Her constant friend-nanny-protector-sibling-ghost-on-the-roof.

Taylor sighed again, and pulled out of the car drop-off zone.

She still had her motorcycle, of course, but it wasn't exactly convenient for daily use. The iX SUV felt excessive, but Emma loved her BMW. And it wasn't like they didn't have the money to burn. Even Taylor had to admit it was very comfortable.

Nobody wasn't a fan. They thought it was boring. But Taylor wasn't about to blow $200,000 on a McLaren just because Nobody wanted an even faster car.

Speaking of which…

"Ummm. Taylor. Any chance you're forgetting something?" Nobody asked casually.

Taylor blinked and refocused on her surroundings.

Traffic on the highway was a bit heavier than usual, since it was rush hour, but nothing jumped out at her as a potential threat.

And Nobody was…

Still at the school?

That's fine, they were scoping out the premises before Annie's first day. Just in case. Nothing to worry about, right?

"Taylor. I'm still at the school. The school you're no longer at," Nobody thought slowly.

Taylor was definitely a couple miles down the road. How had that happened?

"What?" Taylor thought.

"You left me behind!" Nobody's thoughts were weirdly indignant.

"How?"

"You think I know? You're the smart one, remember?"

Taylor double checked. She was still the anchor. Nobody should have popped when she left their range…

Which could only mean…

"Annie's an anchor," Taylor said out loud. "Annie's another fucking anchor."

"Holy shit," Nobody lit a cigarette on the school roof. It was nostalgic, for them. "How did we not notice sooner?"

"I mean, you were always with me when I left for work, and…"

Taylor's mind ran in useless circles for a while. Powers were bullshit, but that still didn't make sense. Annie obviously hadn't triggered, but…

"Well… have a good day, I guess?" Taylor shrugged helplessly. "Keep an eye on her for me."

"Both eyes. As often as I can spare them," Nobody grinned.

This was either going to be brilliant, or backfire horribly. Taylor really wasn't sure which.

…

Saturday, June 30th, 2035.

Nobody leaned against the tree in the back yard and took a long drag of their cigarette.

It was pretty funny, watching Annie creep out the back door as silently as possible. She was trying so hard. It would be criminal to burst her bubble.

Still. They weren't about to let her steal the McLaren. That would be a travesty, and she'd definitely crash it. Annie was a terrible driver.

They popped, and landed leaning against the hood of their baby under the carport just as Annie looked back up at the house nervously.

"So… what'cha doin'?" Nobody asked.

Annie jumped about a foot in the air. It was hilarious.

"Jesus… Fuck, Nobody," Annie whisper-cursed. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first," Nobody raised an eyebrow.

Annie huffed and crossed her arms in frustration. She was so funny.

Sometimes, she was so much like Taylor, it was uncanny. Other times, it was vaguely comforting that she didn't have any of Taylor or Emma's jagged edges. Annie was the best of both of them, without being shattered and reforged first.

"Fine! Erika's parents are out of town, and she and Lindsay are throwing a party. And I want to go. And you know how Mom gets about things like that," Annie snapped.

Well. That was pretty straightforward, actually.

"Sounds sick. Let's go," Nobody straightened and held out their hand for the keys.

"What? Wait, really?" Annie blinked.

"Yeah, of course. Party time," Nobody grinned. They popped and reformed wearing a fashionable but unobtrusive gray jacket and skinny jeans. They threw in a few piercings and some bright blue hair, just for fun.

"Just don't… you know what, I don't even care," Annie grinned back. "Improv, right?"

"You got it."

"So, are we…"

"Of course we're taking the McLaren," Nobody swung through the open car window without opening the door and landed in the driver's seat. They'd practiced that move for this exact occasion. "Get in! We have a party to crash!"

"You know I was invited, right?" Annie hurried around to the passenger side.

"I wasn't. And besides, crashing is always more fun," Nobody popped themselves a pair of dark sunglasses. Even though it was the middle of the night.

"I can never tell if you're cool or ridiculously lame," Annie commented as Nobody roared out of the driveway at what Taylor would probably consider an 'unnecessary' speed. Taylor was getting boring in her old age.

Nobody honestly wasn't sure if they were aging or not. Their bodies were transient. What even was aging, for them?

They were reasonably sure Taylor's age was all mental, but they were young at heart.

"What can I say? I work in mysterious ways," Nobody grinned.

Then they turned up the music, bass thundering in their chest, and Annie cheered.

And in the master bedroom, wrapped around Emma's sleeping form, Taylor laughed quietly with her.

…

Everyone needs different things, at different times.

But sometimes, everybody needs a Nobody.

…

Notes:

And, with that, Imitation Game is complete! I've had so much fun with this story. Writing Nobody was a great time, and trying to make the characters actually caustic and toxic was interesting. This chapter felt very cathartic to write, after all the angst.

Quick side note; the title, Imitation Game, refers to the three main plotlines woven throughout the story. Nobody and Taylor's relationship and their exploration of their shared power is, obviously, literally an imitation; both Nobody imitating Taylor and Nobody copying other people. Emma and Taylor's relationship is a constant game of cat and mouse, with multiple levels of facades and hidden intentions on both sides. And, finally, Taylor's experience with the Undersiders is a game, too. A facade of their own, with Calvert playing both sides. Ultimately, it doesn't really matter whether Coil is good or not in this story. He's obviously good for Taylor, and we'll never know if that's at the expense of other innocents.

Also, Imitation Game is an excellent movie about a gay man who ultimately gives up everything for a goal and a country that doesn't appreciate or understand him. It's not really relevant, but its kind of poetic.

I hope everyone else had fun on this radioactive ride with a happy ending. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm. Nobody is doing their best, and that's good enough.