The world and many of the characters belong to a much better author than I that goes by the name Wildbow. I'm just borrowing it for a while to see what happens when I poke things with a stick.

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"Now, what'd you want to talk to me about Lily?"

It's impossible to say for certain how I knew that my uncle was a parahuman. Maybe it was the fact that he wouldn't ever join the rest of the extended family around the television when an Endbringer hit, or maybe it was just how evasive he was when people asked about his career. Maybe it was how fit he was, or maybe it was just his beard. Well, it probably wasn't the beard, no matter how well he could grow facial hair. Whatever, the reason didn't really matter because I was his favorite niece and he was my favorite uncle. For the past eight months I had decided that I would do whatever I could to help uncle Jason keep his secret.

He watched me patiently, obviously sensing that I had asked to come the two flights up from our apartment to his for an important reason. I took a deep breath and forced my eyes to look away from his collection of canes and walking sticks occupying an entire wall behind his humble entertainment center. I don't think he watched very much television.

Looking at uncle Jason's face, I finally answered "Well, uh...it's about capes. Er, well, parahumans I mean. Um. I think I am one."

The silence was palpable. I stared at his face but he just sat there looking at me and he didn't even respond and oh my gosh what if I was wrong and he's totally not a cape at all but I just outed myself and I don't even have a name yet or anything and...oh, I must've been hyperventilating because he looked a little concerned there.

"It's okay Lily, just trying to figure out why you would tell me and not your own father?" He asked as a smile softened his features slightly. He was sitting in his comfy leather armchair and I had taken a seat on the couch. We were more beside one another than in front of each other, but it allowed me to look away when I needed to make it less intense. That was one thing uncle Jason was good at (besides growing a beard): being intense.

So since he had brought it up I pretty much had to tell him that I knew, right? I mean, he would probably ask how I knew, and then I wouldn't really know how to respond, but there was absolutely no reason I would tell him except that I knew that he was a superhero. So I leveled my best stare at him and sorta' quirked up an eyebrow as if to say "C'mon uncle Jason, who are you trying to kid here." but after a few seconds it got a bit weird and awkward, so I had to break the silence again. I decided to go with mysterious and see if I could pull it off. "Well. I know." was all I said, then I let him mull it over a bit.

"Okay, Guera, I'm not sure what you think you know, but I have a guess. Why don't you just come out and say what you're thinking so we can actually discuss the interesting and important parts. Like the fact that you're apparently a cape and I don't even know what your power is!" He countered.

Well played uncle, well played. Okay, so as the awkwardness was wearing off, I started to realize that this was uncle Jason here and we were really close for a reason...so maybe I should just say it. "Well...I've know for a while now. Er, well at least I've suspected. And haven't you even been noticing that I've been helping you? What I mean is, you're obviously a superhero, and so it made sense to tell you instead of...anyone else."

He threw his head back and laughed. That wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting.

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Uncle Jason, er, Myrddin (I had been pretty sure he was a cape, but holy crap I didn't know he was the head of the Chicago protectorate!) walked me along the extended high-tech looking pier that led to the PRT building. I had gone with some loose jeans, a black hoodie I had turned inside-out to get rid of the logo, and a bland gray domino mask that he had provided for me. I wore the hoodie with the hood up for extra concealment; I didn't want anyone being able to identify me by my dirty-blonde hair.

When I went home to change I had heated up some leftovers for dinner for both dad and I, then I made sure he got into bed before stealthily choosing my wardrobe and sneaking out the door. From there, Uncle Jason had given me the mask and led me to the roof of the building. When he removed his jacket and donned his own hood-mask-cowl thing, I was floored.

So anyway, we made it to the PRT building with two guards stationed outside what looked like some pretty nicely reinforced doors. As we approached, uncle Myrddin put his hand on my shoulder and a guard stepped aside and began muttering, presumably into his microphone, while the other entered a code and waved us through the door.

I had been inside the gift-shop and touristey areas before, but it looked different with most of the display lights off. My uncle used the hand on my shoulder to halt my pace and turn me to face him. "You sure you want to do this?" He asked. His voice sounded a bit deeper. Maybe more like an old man's voice than I was used to. "It means something to unmask, even if it's just to the PRT. We could go back home and stew on it for a while, if you want."

What could I say to that? I shook my head "No, if you're in the Protectorate I want to be too." When I saw him about to speak up I corrected myself. "Protectorate, Wards, whatever. You know what I mean."

And so we made our way into what looked a bit like an elevator. Or possibly a large, ornate closet...elevators usually had more buttons, but it seemed to take us where we were going. After a very short ride in the elevator that I wasn't certain whether we went up or down (or maybe some completely different direction?), we made our way through a sparsely decorated hallway into a room brilliantly named "Conference Room A."

The room was just large enough to accommodate four chairs and a table that looked the right size but had the wrong feel for a small dining-room table. Sitting in one of the chairs was a middle-aged balding man wearing a suit with all the symptoms that he didn't particularly like wearing them: he had a loosened tie, the top button unbuttoned, and I just managed to catch sight of his shirt untucked beneath the hem of his jacket. As we entered, he stood and offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Steven McCurdy, and you must be the new cape Jason told me about." Surprised at his use of my uncle's name, I looked up just in time to see uncle Jason lowering his metal cowl.

He smiled at me and said "This is where you tell the PRT your name. Your last chance to back out."

I knew why he was being careful, but I didn't really have any reservations. It was a no-brainer. Uncle Jason was there, and I wanted to be too. Being a hero was definitely the most interesting extra-curricular activity I could think of. Sure, Track and Field was nice, I guess. It was cool to see how well I did at all the various activities, but...heroes. I mean c'mon. Sure, my power may not have been the most glamorous or powerful, but any power was almost by definition an edge over an unpowered. So it was with little hesitation that I lowered my hood and removed the mask. I offered my hand to Director McCurdy and put on my best smile. "Hi Director, I'm Lily Walker."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Lily." He began, "Now, this is all just preliminary stuff, but you're going to have to sign a few non-disclosure agreements, a waiver saying you understand risking your life is...well, risking your life. We'll take a few evaluations, then we'll need a parent or guardian here for tax and consent purposes, all pretty standard stuff, especially...well, huh. Jason said he didn't have any children. He's not your legal guardian, is he?"

My heart dropped; I shook my head and saw a mirrored head-shake from my uncle. "Um, no. Is that a problem?" I answered. It's not that I didn't want dad to know...well, I didn't, but he just didn't need that added stress in his life. I didn't need the added stress of him having the added stress in his life in my life. Okay, this was ridiculous. I could unmask to the PRT, I could become a hero to help clean up the city. I could help stop people like Sanguine or Touch and the one thing stopping me, my biggest hurdle, was telling my father.

The Director interrupted my train of thought, seemingly oblivious to it "Well, unless you're over eighteen..." he eyeballed me "Which I doubt, we're going to need to bring your parents in to finalize anything."

After that, the meeting was pretty short since we didn't actually have anything useful to do. Uncle Myrddin offered to be there for the conversation with my dad, but I just needed to think about it. I let my uncle fly me home, but I needed time to think, so I trudged down the stairs, one flight at a time, while he did the sensible thing and took the elevator.

I just couldn't wrap my head around telling my father. I guess a part of me had learned to shield him from any pain or even irregularities in my life. I knew he cared about me...but honestly I was better at taking care of myself than he was. Heck, I was better at taking care of him than he was. Ever since mom got taken he seemed...hollow. I could barely remember it myself, but I remembered growing up fast, figuring out how to take care of myself.

My breath was heavy and my legs were burning from taking so many stairs. But one thought came into focus. An idea that actually made me stop and consider it before I cast it away with revulsion. Even so, it was tempting. But no, I couldn't do that to my father, even if I knew I could pull it off. To quietly make somebody else my guardian would require having him declared unfit for the job. I couldn't do that to him even if people would jump on the idea. People would believe anything of him. People would believe anything of a victim of the Simurgh.

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I'm starting this for the same reason that Wildbow gives for starting Worm: I want to force myself to write and stop deleting everything I make because "it isn't good enough". I feel like I have a very long way to go with dialogue, so I would appreciate any tips on that front. Other than that, what do you guys think?