Homecoming

1-1

The drug dealer stood at the far end of the alley, sheltered from the wind and casual observance, but visible enough should a buyer show up. He was oblivious to my presence as I crouched in the shadow of a dumpster at the other end of the alley, my back pressed up against the wall.

"You sure this is the right guy?" I whispered.

"Of course I'm sure!" Tattletale hissed over the radio. "Now hurry up, his supplier will be coming by soon."

Mentally cursing, I looked around the dumpster. The dealer still had his back to me and I could see the glow of a phone screen in the dark alley.

That was sloppy. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and the light from his phone would have destroyed his nightvision.

'Is he just careless, or confident?' I thought to myself. Just in case, I assumed confident.

Twisting my wrist caused the collapsed miniature crossbow on my forearm to spring open, and I carefully loaded a bolt. It had been specially designed by me, and was closer to a flying syringe than an arrow. On impact, it would inject its contents into the target.

I'd been inspired by the arrows Shadow Stalker - a 'hero'- used after she had tried, and failed, to shoot me with one.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied my aim. I didn't have the resources needed to make many of these bolts and had to be very careful not to waste them.

My finger twitched and the crossbow fired with a quiet twang. The bolt arced through the air and I mentally swore as it slammed into the soft flesh of the dealer's backside.

I'd been aiming for his shoulder.

The dealer made a noise somewhere between a scream and a curse. Spinning to face me, he ignored the bolt lodged in his body and pulled a pistol from the waist of his jeans with his free hand, his phone clattering to the floor.

"Who's there?!" he shouted, squinting into the dark. I stayed still, pressing myself against the dumpster and counting the seconds in my head.

"Come out!" He took a step forward, only for his legs to collapse under him as the sedative in the bolt took effect.

I heard him grunt as he hit the floor. Leaning out from behind the dumpster, I risked another look.

The dealer was trying to push himself up on arms that were trembling. His pistol was a foot away and his movements were sluggish.

Stepping into view, I drew a collapsible baton and carefully approached him as his arms went limp and he fell face first to the ground. I counted another twenty seconds in my head just to be sure he was down. I wasn't going to risk him playing dead.

Moving closer, I turned his head slightly so his airway was clear. "Fuk'bish," he muttered, glaring at me through heavy lids as I lifted his pistol from the floor and - after unloading the magazine and checking the safety - slipped it into my pocket.

I tapped my radio. "Okay, I've got him."

A minute later, a grey panel van pulled up by the alley entrance and Grue jumped out. He barely glanced at me as he lifted the dealer up, throwing him over a shoulder and carrying him into the back of the van.

I hesitated briefly, only just remembering to snatch up the fallen cell phone before climbing into the front of the van. No one would ever know we were here.

Slipping into the front seat next to Tattletale, I let out a sigh of relief as she calmly put the van into gear and drove us away.

##

24 hours earlier.

Stepping off the bus, I was unable to resist the urge to touch the ends of my short, red, hair.

"You look fine," Lisa said with a grin that didn't reach her eyes. Her own hair was black and her dark sunglasses glinted in the light.

"Why red?" I hissed.

"Because I'm not pale enough to pull it off?" she said with a shrug. "Besides, you said it would wash out."

"It will!" I repositioned the small rucksack on my shoulder. There wasn't much inside, but one of the shampoo bottles contained a chemical that would take the dye off in minutes without any lasting damage. But still, red?

Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she turned and walked away. Sighing, I followed behind her, trying to look at everything at once.

After all this time, we were finally back in Brockton Bay, my home, and yet everything felt wrong.

I wanted to relax, to be happy. But instead all I could think was 'is that a gang tag, are those police officers or just security, was that a gunshot?'

My thoughts chased themselves in circles, never giving me a moment to relax.

"This was a mistake…" I muttered, trying and failing not to flinch as someone suddenly raised an arm in greeting to a friend.

Shaking her head, Lisa slowed, falling in step with me.

Hooking her arm through mine, she bumped me gently with her hip, the smile on her face clearly fake to me, but I doubted anyone around us could tell. Lisa was surprisingly good at putting up a front.

"Yes, it was, but we're here now and you need to relax." Lisa leaned her head against my shoulder as we walked. "Even if some one did recognise us. No one's going to do anything here."

"I guess your-"

"They'll wait until we're out of sight, then shoot us," she chirped.

I huffed, giving her a glare rather than say anything.

"Seriously though Taylor, you need to calm down. Being all tense and nervous is just going to draw attention. As far as anyone knows, we're just a couple of girls walking down the street."

She gave me a smile, a real one this time, the first I'd seen since the argument and I felt my resistance crumbling.

"... Fine. But if someone shoots at us, I'm blaming you."

"Eh, that's fair. Now come on, we need to pick up-"

Her phone beeped from her pocket. It had been going off almost non-stop since we got on the bus last night.

"-or we can see what Brian wants," Lisa said through clenched teeth.

##

What Brian wanted, it turned out, was to meet up immediately and not tomorrow like we had originally planned.

We hadn't heard from him since we left the city. It had been his idea to leave and he had ordered us all to go separate ways, cutting off communication in the process. Lisa had ignored him, insisting the two of us, at least, stick together.

He'd been angry, but it wasn't like he had time to really argue.

Then, months later, Brian had messaged us both on PHO. Just a short, terse, request for us to meet with him.

The meeting point was at a small diner in a row of shops that were currently unclaimed by any of the gangs. It was also the same diner where Lisa had recruited me.

Lisa had said no at first. That it was too risky, that none of us should be in Brockton Bay. It was the first real argument Lisa and I ever had. Months alone together and we'd never done worse than bicker.

'I should probably apologise'. Some of the things I'd said…

I didn't really know what happened after that. I think Brian sent Lisa something privately, because the very next day she told me she'd changed her mind.

When we reached the diner, Brian was already waiting outside for us. He was leaning against a wall, arms crossed as he looked up and down the street. He didn't even look twice at us as we hesitated on the other side of the road.

I didn't have Lisa's intuition, but I'd learned enough to at least gauge a crowd. Brian was getting some odd looks from passersby, who were also giving him a lot of space, but that wasn't unusual.

Brian was big, taller than me and very muscular; he wasn't someone who got hassled in the streets.

Beyond that, no one seemed to be paying him more attention than usual. There were no suspicious vans or cars with tinted windows and no one in gang colours.

"Lets go," Lisa muttered, then walked across the road, her shoulders hunched.

Brian finally noticed us as we reached his side of the road. He frowned, for a moment, before his eyes widened in recognition. Pushing himself off the wall, he opened his mouth to say something but Lisa beat him to it.

Barely stopping, she swung for him. The enhancements I'd given her meant her hand was little more than a blur, her open palm hitting his cheek with a crack that echoed through the street and jerked his head to the side. Someone nearby audibly gasped.

"For the record," Lisa hissed, pointing a warning finger at him, "that's all I 'owe' you!"

Brian stared dumbly at her, one hand tenderly touching his jaw. Around us, people were stopping to stare, no doubt hoping for a show.

"Come on Taylor." Lisa turned on her heel and marched into the diner. I followed closely behind her, looking over my shoulder at Brian in confusion.

Sure, the team had split up, but it hadn't been on 'bad' terms. Had something else happened between the two of them?

We took a seat at a booth at the far end of the diner. Lisa sat with her back to the wall so she could watch anyone who came in and I sat next to her. We had barely sat down when Brian walked in and took the empty seat opposite.

No one said anything as a waitress came and took our orders - two coffees and tea - and Lisa and I slipped out of our coats.

Lisa's handprint on his cheek aside, Brian looked rough. In the brief time I'd known him, he'd never looked anything but well groomed, with his hair in neat cornrows, his face cleanly shaved and tasteful clothes. Now, however, his jaw was covered in stubble that was bordering on a full beard, his eyes bloodshot and darkly ringed. His clothes looked like he'd been sleeping in them.

"You both look… good," he said eventually, his eyes lingering on my exposed arms.

Lisa scoffed, but I tried not to preen at the compliment. It had taken a lot of work to make the formula work. Increasing muscle density without causing rampant, cancerous, growth wasn't easy.

"That's not the word you mean," Lisa said with a smirk, bumping my leg playfully with hers. "Why are we here Brian?"

"You haven't already figured it out?" he snapped, faint wisps of smoke coming from his hands.

"Of course I have, but I want you to explain it to Taylor. You owe her that after all."

The two glared at each other, neither one giving an inch, not even when a nervous waitress approached and placed down our drinks.

"Oh for fuck sake," I muttered, "look, both of you need to grow up. We've been sitting on a bus since last night. If one of you doesn't start explaining, I'm going to find a hotel and get some sleep!"

It was an empty threat and Lisa, at least, knew it. I wouldn't dare walk around alone right now.

Thankfully, Brian didn't know that. He deflated, suddenly looking even more tired, and reached into a pocket. He removed a piece of paper and placed it on the table.

It was a picture, creased and dog eared, of a girl that was maybe a bit younger than me. She was nearly Brian's mirror, as feminine as he was masculine, with high cheekbones and a long neck. Despite her obvious attractiveness, her clothes screamed 'trashy' in the worst way.

"That's my sister." Brian's voice was thick, like he was struggling to get the words out. "She's been missing for nearly a month now and… I need your help finding her."

##

The streets of Brockton Bay felt strange as we walked through them. Alien and familiar all at the same time. This had been my home all my life, yet now, after only a few months away, it felt different somehow.

Was it something in the city, or was it me that had changed?

"Turn right up here," Lisa said, glancing at a map on her phone. She had taken my arm in hers again. Probably an effort to keep me calm.

"Did you know Brian had a sister?"

"Of course." She chuckled. "I know everything."

I smiled despite myself. That was an old joke between us. "Why did neither of you tell me?"

Lisa stopped and lowered her phone, looking at me for the first time since we left the dinner.

"It… wasn't my place," she said with a shrug. "I know how cold that sounds, but you need to remember, Brian was always a private person. He never mentioned Aisha to anyone but me or the boss… he won't say it, but I think she was part of his trigger."

'Triggering' was what happened when people got powers. Mine had been in a locker filled with filth and I couldn't imagine willingly telling people I barely knew about it. Just the thought of it made me shiver.

I stayed silent and we carried on walking. Following Lisa's instructions, we soon ended up outside a small postal depot. Lisa had barely glanced at the building and the people around before announcing it safe and pulling me inside.

I wasn't sure this had been necessary. We could have just loaded our stuff on the bus, but Lisa had insisted on having it shipped separately. That way, she'd said, if anything went wrong, it couldn't be linked back to us.

Personally, I just thought she got a kick out of all this 'cloak and dagger' crap.

The bored teen behind the counter barely glanced at our fake identification before vanishing into the back room.

"Do you think she's even alive?" I finally asked the question I hadn't dared say around Brian.

Brockton Bay wasn't safe. The homeless were easy pickings for gangs or random psychos, and there were even rumours that one of the gangs routinely kidnapped young girls and forced them into slavery.

Aisha was young, attractive and according to Brian, impulsive. A serial runaway whose mother had died of a drug overdose. What chance did she have realistically?

"I..." Lisa sighed. Whatever anger had been driving her seemed to have burned itself out. "My power says she's dead. It's been too long, the odds of her being alive are…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

"We survived."

She snorted. "Trust me, we had it easy. We both had the advantage of powers, and it wasn't the first time I've lived on the streets. But you're right, she might still be alive."

I tried not to think too hard about that. Our first few weeks on the street had been rough. What little money we had hadn't lasted long and we couldn't risk drawing attention to ourselves. We got attacked by other homeless people, nearly starved and Lisa picked up a nasty infection that I'd struggled to cure without a real workshop.

After the first month, I'd stopped caring whenever she stole someone's wallet.

If that was 'easy', I dreaded to think what Aisha was dealing with.

Looking up from her phone, Lisa opened her mouth to say something, but cut herself off with a shake of her head and a glance towards the door to the back of the depot. The door swung open and the boy from before returned with two wheeled cases in his arms.

Lisa took a moment to examine both cases before signing for them and we walked back outside.

I rolled my neck, letting the sunlight warm my face. "So… what's the plan?"

"In order of priority," she said, turning and leading me down the street. "First, we find a place to stay. Then we'll need money and information. We really need to know what's changed while we've been away and find out if any of Coil's old contacts are still around and maybe a good place for a workshop for you. I have-"

She was interrupted by the sound of her stomach growling loudly enough that we both heard it. I quickly stifled a laugh as Lisa blushed. With everything Brian had told us, neither of us had felt like eating at the diner.

"Okay, change of plans," Lisa said, giving me a mock glare. "Place to stay, food, then work."

##

In the end, we didn't go far from the depot; just a few blocks over to an old hotel. From the outside, it wasn't very impressive — faded walls, cracked paint and a sign that had seen better days. But it sat in an unclaimed area of the city which made it a safer choice.

At least, it had been an unclaimed area. A small gang tag that I didn't recognise had been painted on the door frame.

"Well," Lisa muttered at the sight of it, "that might be a problem…"

"Should we find somewhere else?"

"No, it's fine. They shouldn't be interested in us anyway." With a shrug, she walked inside.

Not that I really cared. We had stayed in worse places. Ratty motels by the side of the road, homeless shelters, even a church once.

Things were better now. We had some money between us and ways to make more if things got really bad. It wasn't much, but we could at least afford a few nights in motels that, usually, weren't bug-infested.

I'd still created my own bug spray regardless.

To my surprise, the inside of the hotel was warm and inviting. The walls and furniture were clearly old, but everything was clean and the silver-haired old woman behind the counter smiled as we walked in.

As Lisa spoke to the receptionist, I looked around, making note of the windows and fire exits in case we needed to leave in a hurry.

As we were led towards our rooms, we passed a few other people. Most of them were men around Dad's age, some of them in worn or crumpled suits. They all had the same tired expression, and Lisa quietly explained that most of them were businessmen travelling for work.

Tired, in a hurry, and probably not too worried about the people around them. They likely wouldn't look twice at either of us and if they did… well, I wasn't worried about that.

Our room was like the rest of the hotel. Old, but clean and functional. We had a single room with two beds. That didn't bother me like it would have once.

"I asked them to bring up some food," Lisa said, poking around inside a closet. "If you're quick, you can grab a shower before it gets here."

"How did you know about this place?"

She shrugged. "Some of Coil's men mentioned it. Not all of them stayed in the barracks. He didn't like having them all in one place."

"Is it safe here?"

"Oh, sure. He paid well, but they didn't really like him. Those that weren't arrested left the city as soon as he died."

"And what about the tag outside?"

"We'll be fine. Just don't start a fight nearby and don't set anything on fire."

"That wasn't my fault!" My cheeks grew hot. My last workshop had gone up in flames when someone had snuck in looking for drugs and ended up knocking over some jars of chemicals that reacted badly with each other. And the air. And the wooden table.

"You are so easy," Lisa said with a laugh. She was still grinning when I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, it was hard to deny that it felt good to be home again. Maybe I'd get the chance to speak to Dad at some point? We hadn't parted on the best of terms after all.

All we needed was time and a little luck.

AN: Chapter commissioned by Laioken

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