Danny allowed himself a sigh as turned the key.

The faint ticking of the cooling engine was the loudest sound that he could hear, louder than the faint noises of traffic from several blocks away and the distant cries of crows heading back to their nests in the dusk. He placed his hands on the top of the steering wheel and allowed his forehead to rest on his knuckles. He took a deep breath, taking in the musk of worn leather and the lingering scent of seawater that he'd carried all the way home from his workplace.

The door popped open and he stepped outside, dragging his backpack from the front passenger seat with him. He shouldered the bag as he slammed the door shut, locking it by sticking the keys into the driver's side door. He made his way home, the action of stepping over the rotten step being drilled into his muscle memory at this point, and he glanced at his keychain to find the brass house key. He picked it out and rattled the door; it took several tries and one bodily heave to shoulder the door open.

He stepped inside the door and closed it (it got stuck on the first try; he kicked it closed the whole way) and stepped onto the scuffed wooden flooring. He turned right into the living room-slash-dining room and tossed his backpack at its usual spot near his armchair. He paused when he saw Taylor's silhouette in the kitchen, only her left side visible due to the doorway blocking the line of sight.

"Hey, Taylor."

"Hi, dad," Taylor called, peeking from the edge of the doorway. "How was work?"

"Same old," Danny responded. "And how was school?"

"It was…" she paused. "I'll tell you about it later."

"Okay. What did you get for dinner?" Danny asked, noting the low hum of the microwave. He remembered the phone call he got earlier today.

"I thought I'd get Indian," Taylor responded. "I'm heating up the naan bread, now."

"Sounds good," said Danny, wearing a weary smile. "Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?"

Taylor paused, and turned to the microwave, not meeting his eyes. "I'm okay. It's just been… a day."

"Bullying problems again?" Danny asked, voice low.

"No. Not today. Today was entirely different." Taylor finally turned to look at him. "Were you religious when you were a kid?"

Danny rubbed his chin. "I suppose so? I only got dragged to church because your nana was a God-fearing kind of woman. Your grandpa, not so much - but not even he was going to defy nana's authority in this one. I distinctly remember being very bored and probably generally unconvinced throughout all of it."

"Huh," Taylor said, with a mildly interested expression. "I didn't know that."

He shrugged. "You never asked and it never had much significance in my life. Apart from wasting my Sundays, that is."

The microwave beeped and Taylor went to fetch the naan bread. The curry had already been placed on the table, divided into two bowls and on top of straw mats to keep it from damaging the surface of the already hopeless tabletop, and covered in aluminum foil to keep the heat in. Danny lifted a corner of the foil and hummed pleasantly at the aroma of various spices that he unfortunately could not name.

"There," Taylor said as she placed the bread next to it, another layer of aluminum foil wrapping them. "Thanks for the food, dad."

"Of course, even if I didn't make it," Danny shrugged, and they tucked in.

The food was good. It was a place that Kurt and Lacey had recommended to him at work a few years ago, if he remembered correctly, run by second-generation Indians. Annette had been especially enthused to try authentic Indian food. Danny was not as well-traveled as she had been, but it was still good. The distinct expression of bliss on his daughter's face helped, too.

"So," Danny said, using his fingers to tear the naan bread into chunks, "you gonna tell me how your day was?"

Taylor seemed to chew very slowly to digest the question. She finally swallowed, but still reserved a small pause to think about it. "I'm going to tell you something, and you have to promise not to overreact."

"What?" Danny blinked. "Taylor… are you gay?"

Taylor paused, and turned bright red.

"Because I'm not going to think any less of you if you are, and your mother most certainly wouldn't either. Did you know your mother had a few flings with women while she was in college?"

"That's… not it," Taylor mumbled, still blushing. "I'm not gay."

"Okay, okay. Well, just putting it out there, if you ever discover that you are."

"No, it's a little different. And you still haven't promised not to overreact."

"I haven't been promised that it's not something overreacting over," Danny mused.

"Dad!" Danny chuckled as Taylor pulled a face at him. "Fine then." She sucked in a deep breath. "Last night I went out in costume I'd been making for months to go on patrol with my new powers and accidentally fought Lung. There."

Danny stared at her. His mind sort of went blank and drifted to an image of one of those monkeys with cymbals clapping their cheap brass instruments together. "What?" He finally managed.

"Uh, nothing."

"You fought Lung?" He exploded in disbelief. "Just… what? What do you mean, your costume you've been making for months? Are you… are you a Parahuman, then?"

"…yeah ."

The tone with which Taylor spoke was so defeated that any bubbling anger that Danny might have felt seemed to drain away. With most of his energy, in fact. He mirrored his daughter and slumped into his chair, then rubbed the bridge of his nose, underneath his glasses.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," Taylor mumbled. It was barely audible.

"What made you pick a fight with goddamn Lung of all people?" Danny asked wearily.

"He said he was gonna kill kids. I couldn't let him do that." Taylor shifted in her chair. "It turned out he was talking about a group of teenage villains, though."

Danny sighed. "This whole thing is so unbelievably fucked up," he muttered. "Pardon my language." He looked up then. "Are you planning to go out and play hero again?"

She stiffened a little at the last part. Might've been a bit harsh. From what he could tell, his daughter might have ended up saving a few people's lives last night, their allegiances aside. Danny stopped himself from sighing again. Before he could apologize, however, Taylor spoke.

"Another hero saved my life last night. She's called Arachne."

Sounded familiar. A few of the dockworkers had reported seeing her, even speaking with her, too. "Oh?"

"I'll be safer if I'm with her. She's offered to take me under her wing," Taylor said. When Danny met her eyes, she squirmed slightly but continued. "I want to be a hero, dad. I can't just… not do anything when I have the power to help people. All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."

"Taylor, you're talking about joining the most dangerous profession in the city as a fifteen-year-old. If you have to do this, I'd rather you join the Wards."

"I thought about that. I just didn't want any of the teenage drama that I've been experiencing the last couple of years. And I also don't want to turn down Arachne's offer. Her power is really similar to mine, and I thought maybe she could teach me her tricks…"

"What can you do?" Danny interrupted, curious.

"I can control insects," Taylor said. "And some crustaceans."

"Insects? How many?"

"All of them within two or three blocks?" Taylor shrugged. "It's pretty useful. I made my costume using black widow silk. It's strong enough to stop cuts—"

"Where did you put these black widows…?"

"…in the attic? A few thousand of them. Don't worry, I completely control them."

"…Jesus fucking Christ."

"Sorry."

"Next time, please ask first," Danny said, feeling a little ill now. "I'd still prefer you join the Wards…"

"And I don't want to," Taylor said, firmly. Then she looked down. "I'm sorry. If it helps at all, I'll register with the PRT as an independent hero and get… a mobile phone, so I can call for their help whenever I need to."

"A mobile," Danny said even as his throat constricted slightly. "I suppose that's important. I guess we can go shopping tomorrow for a low-end one…"

"No, you don't have to," she said quickly. "I got… well, I received a gift, I guess. From the villains I saved from Lung last night."

Danny paused. "I see. That's… good, I suppose?"

"They also asked if I wanted to join their gang. I thought about joining just so I could, you know, spy on them and turn them into the PRT… but I said no, in the end, because, well, Arachne talked me out of it."

"Hm." He'd have to thank Arachne. "That's probably for the best."

"Yeah."

"Is there any way I can speak to Arachne? I'd like to know what kind of person is supporting you while you're fighting criminals, and things."

"I have her phone number, but considering secret identities and stuff—"

"Yeah, I get it. But even if it's in her costume, I want to get a judge of character. I want to be certain she has your best interests in mind."

"I'll bring it up sometime," promised Taylor. Then she paused, looking down awkwardly. "I'm… I'm sorry I didn't bring this up earlier."

Danny nodded slowly. "Why didn't you?" He asked gently, reaching across the table to grip his daughter's hand in his own weathered one; he noticed (and ignored) the bandages, knowing that they were not from some mere stovetop accident but a memento from fighting the most dangerous Parahuman in Brockton Bay. "Not accusing you of anything. I'm just curious."

Taylor squirmed, then sighed. "I didn't want to worry you."

Danny almost asked her to repeat it, what with her being as quiet as she was, but didn't. He got the gist of it. "I'm sorry you felt that way." Taylor blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry that I haven't been acting in a way that makes you feel like you can rely on me. I must have seemed very fragile and broken to you, at a time I should have been sturdy. I'm sorry I didn't provide that support that you might have needed."

"No," she mumbled, but tears were pooling under her glasses. "Not your fault."

"At least part of it is. And I'll admit it," Danny said firmly. "Taylor, I'll be honest, I'm worried for you. I've already lost most of my family, my wife included. You are the last person in our family that I care deeply about. I absolutely don't want to see you hurt, and my first instinct is to wrap you in silk and tuck you away."

Seeing Taylor chew her lip, Danny took a deep (and rather painful) breath and continued, speaking as much to himself as to his daughter. "But I won't do that. Can't. I'm not going to lock you in a gilded cage. It wouldn't be right of me to keep you from doing what you truly want to do. So I'll help you. Everything I know, everything I've learned… I'll help you, Taylor. So never, ever go solo again."

Taylor was still, and when she sensed that Danny had no more to say, she jerkily nodded. She bumped her leg as she got out of her chair and shuffled around the table to the other side; Danny held her tight as she crashed into his chest and sobbed. He could feel his own tears pricking at the back of his eyes as he moved his hand over her back in a circular motion.

"It's okay, kiddo," Danny whispered hoarsely. "You'll never be alone. Not anymore."

"Fudo," Colin nodded politely, sitting beside the barrel-chested man in the Rig cafeteria.

"Colin," he replied with an equally respectful nod. "How do you do?"

"Well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Good, good," the older hero replied, before stabbing his fork into one of the vegetable samosas served by the cafeteria staff and swallowing it in one bite of his seemingly too-wide (not that Colin would ever say it out loud) mouth. "Your recent projects coming along well?"

"Dragon and I had a strange discussion recently," Colin replied honestly.

Fudo simply raised an eyebrow in response, his mouth currently full with another samosa. Colin had once attempted Fudo's vegetarian diet for himself, but when he failed, he told Hannah and Fudo that the diet didn't meet his nutritional intake requirements while in fact he simply missed meat too much (something he was too embarrassed to admit).

Colin leaned in and spoke in a quiet voice. "She mentioned that some shady organization was wanting to recruit her."

"Dragon, hm?"

Colin watched for any possible changes in expression as Fudo slowly chewed and digested both the food and Colin's statement. Fudo finally swallowed, and met Colin's eyes for a brief moment before settling on a response. "I believe her."

"Do you know something?" Colin inquired.

"If it's the same 'shady organization' we're speaking of," Fudo said.

"Will you tell me?"

"Not here. Not now."

Colin felt some irritation at that but nodded nonetheless. Acara was a hero that even Colin himself looked up to; having operated since the early days of the Golden Age with a solid track record, Fudo received a lot of trust from both his teammates and from the PRT. He was also afforded a lot of leeway by the latter since his being an Asian superhero in a city infested by a pan-Asian gang made him a PR goldmine.

"Will you at least tell me why you can't tell me?"

"I thought your girlfriend must have already told you."

"She's not my girlfriend," Colin replied almost automatically, but abandoned his protests in favor of thinking back. Yes. Yes, indeed Dragon had told him why. Apart from his own lab, Dragon's lab, and Toybox - possibly everywhere had eyes and ears. "Yes, she told me. Will my lab be safe to speak in?"

"Perhaps? I am not knowledgeable on computers like you are. My estimates are hardly useful." The heavy-set man shrugged his great shoulders and pushed the empty plate away, tucking it underneath the massive bowl of pea soup and getting started on a platter of dessert that was almost more full than both his soup and main course put together.

"I just want to know if they are a threat," Colin said.

"As far as I know, they don't appear to be - for now," Fudo said. "But I suppose it's always better to be prepared. That's your shtick anyway, isn't it?"

Colin nodded slowly and the two of them finished their meals in silence. Colin offered to take the dirty dishes back, as Dragon suggested he should do, but Fudo politely refused and they took it back together. As they left the cafeteria, they spoke about inane things until Colin reached his lab; he was expecting Fudo to walk past it, but to his mild surprise Fudo entered the lab.

The door shut and Fudo was silent for a long moment.

"I had a visitor today," Fudo admitted. "The civilian identity of the vigilante Arachne."

Colin fought not to curl his lip. Arachne was treading the line between vigilante and villain; true, she did not endanger civilians when she was able and only fought crimes in progress, but she did have a history of extremely violent arrests and some even speculated that she engaged in torture.

"She and I have known each other for some time. We're not close - but I know her," Fudo said. "She came in this morning. I spoke to her. I asked her again if she'd like to join the Protectorate, garner fame, and receive the… support that she's been looking for. She refused yet again, but this time she gleefully announced to me that she had found a thread."

"A what?"

"A thread. She's referring to the Moirai, the Greek mythological figures that oversee the fate of the universe."

"So she's found something that could potentially make her stronger."

"Or a situation she's found to her advantage," Fudo mused. "She does like to be cryptic, and I couldn't get much from her. She was however very clear that I should join her. And also that you stole her credit."

Colin bristled, but Fudo raised a hand. "While I might usually disapprove, I feel that this time you might have done the right thing. Those like Arachne… they don't need the notoriety. They may end up abusing it."

"I don't understand," Colin said honestly, confusion mixed into his earlier irritation.

"It's a little difficult to explain, and it would take time. Time that I am short on, considering I am due for patrol in fifteen minutes," Fudo shrugged. "I apologize, Colin. I shall speak to you soon. And it may be wise to keep an eye out for your girlfriend."

"She's not…" Colin sighed.

"Sure she isn't. Catch you later," the older man grinned wickedly as he stepped outside of the lab again, and then, Colin was alone.

Would the rest of his teammates know anything? Then again, no offense to them, but none of them were as important as Dragon to warrant the attention of a 'shady organization'. Nor had they been in the business as long as Acara had to build up the same breadth of important and powerful contacts. He could probably ask Chevalier, he mused; or even ask Chevalier to ask Myrddin? The latter had been in this organization for a long time, too - as long as Fudo, in fact…

Colin made a note to ask Chevalier and Myrddin the next time he met them in person. Now, time to work on his…

He paused.

He only had two-minutes and thirty-three seconds to get from here to Piggot's office where he'd be yelled at for almost killing Lung, and the trip took an average of two-minutes and forty-six seconds depending on traffic!

He hurriedly returned his tools to their positions, muttering a somewhat belated 'fuck,' and then sprinted out of the lab.

A/N:

Apologies for the late updates (and the lack thereof for Stranger and Five Istari) - I don't have regular access to a computer so I'm writing and publishing everything on my phone. Needless to say it takes significantly longer to do either.

Do let me know what you thought of the chapter and the story in general - this is my first real attempt at Worm fanfiction so any useful criticism is helpful. Thanks for reading.

Darien