Are You Afraid of the Dark? [Worm AU fanfic]

[woodzrox]

Oh! It's been a while, thanks.

 

[Avernus]

It's funny that not only does Coil have no intention of actually cutting his losses and staying away from Tattletale, but he's so predictable about it that everyone involved just knows he'll do that.

 

[Ack]

It's funny that not only does Coil have no intention of actually cutting his losses and staying away from Tattletale, but he's so predictable about it that everyone involved just knows he'll do that.

Click to shrink...

Pattern recognition is a survival skill.

Oddly enough, Coil seems to lack it.

 

[SlickRCBD]

One thing that strikes me as odd is that the PRT keep acknowledging that The Dark isn't a parahuman. Given his legendary capabilities, they should be suspecting some kind of combat Thinker along the lines of a discount Contessa. Not that anyone in the Brockton Bay PRT knows about Contessa specifically, only the Triumvirate and the Chief Director. However some kind of subtle Thinker power should probably be on their minds given the mindset of the PRT.

Calvert lowered the phone and let out a ragged breath. Tattletale was looking at him expectantly—she'd know what had happened, of course—and he handed the phone back to her. He had to force himself to open his mouth and utter the next words, but they had to be said.

"Stand down. Let them go. We're leaving." Every syllable tasted of ash on his tongue. He hated to admit defeat and simply walk away from her, even as that irritatingly smug look blossomed on her face. Worse still was the silent (and not so silent) disbelief from his men. Where they thought he couldn't hear them, they were exchanging low-voiced comments with their radios off. Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice. "I said, stand down."

Trading glances, taking their time as though waiting for him to rescind the order, the troopers released the Undersiders from their bonds. For their part, the teen villains did little more than rub their wrists. Their looks of disbelief were directed at Tattletale, most likely attempting to divine how she'd managed to pull that impossible rabbit out of a non-existent hat.

One by one, his men exited the loft; the chopper had moved away on receiving the stand-down order, so they would all have to leave via ground transport. He was the last out, if only to ensure that none of his men did anything to get him killed. At the doorway, he looked over at Tattletale. "You'll tell him?" That I did what he said, he didn't have to add.

She nodded, her smug expression infuriating him almost to the point that he did something regrettable. "Sure, I'll do that. Bye." It was as much a reminder that he should be leaving as it was a farewell.

As he descended the spiral staircase, his jaw was clenched so hard that his teeth were grinding against one another. He took small solace in the fact that the metal door's lock was ruined, and the door itself was hanging off one hinge; the Undersiders would have to find a new base now or undertake serious repairs to that and the window, occasioning no little inconvenience. Good.

"Sir." It was Sergeant Hardacre. A good, solid NCO, he knew his place and how to handle his men. While he was scrupulous to a fault when it came to everything that didn't involve Calvert's business, and had never actively participated in any illicit activity, he'd taken bribes more than once to look the other way. "May I ask what happened up there? The men will have questions, and I'd prefer to have something to tell them from you, rather than let them speculate."

This was one of the few instances, Calvert decided, that the unvarnished truth would serve better than any lie. "Tell them that we were warned off by the Dark." He saw the shock of understanding in Hardacre's eyes. "Dismissed."

Click to shrink...

I somehow missed the alert about the update for this fic.
One thing that stands out is that if these are NOT Coil's men, but more or less honest PRT troopers, they should be reacting by using containment foam on Calvert and calling master-stranger protocols. Also checking with higher ups.
Given that they suspect Regent is one of Heartbreaker's kids (they thought correctly he might be Hijack), and that they don't really know what Tattletale can do, the possibility that their commander had just been Mastered into ordering them to let the Undersiders go seems more probable than him suddenly taking a phone call and deciding to let wanted criminals go for no reason.
The fact that Brian unleashed his darkness meant they knew for sure that those were indeed the Undersiders they captured.

 

[Ack]

One thing that strikes me as odd is that the PRT keep acknowledging that The Dark isn't a parahuman. Given his legendary capabilities, they should be suspecting some kind of combat Thinker along the lines of a discount Contessa. Not that anyone in the Brockton Bay PRT knows about Contessa specifically, only the Triumvirate and the Chief Director. However some kind of subtle Thinker power should probably be on their minds given the mindset of the PRT.

I somehow missed the alert about the update for this fic.
One thing that stands out is that if these are NOT Coil's men, but more or less honest PRT troopers, they should be reacting by using containment foam on Calvert and calling master-stranger protocols. Also checking with higher ups.
Given that they suspect Regent is one of Heartbreaker's kids (they thought correctly he might be Hijack), and that they don't really know what Tattletale can do, the possibility that their commander had just been Mastered into ordering them to let the Undersiders go seems more probable than him suddenly taking a phone call and deciding to let wanted criminals go for no reason.
The fact that Brian unleashed his darkness meant they knew for sure that those were indeed the Undersiders they captured.

Click to shrink...

He's never done anything that could be pointed at as definitely being cape-worthy. He's just really, really good at killing.

It's Coil's men in the base with him. They've all done enough shady stuff on the side that walking away from the Undersiders (even if they don't know why) is something they can do.

 

[Ack]

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Part Fourteen: Doubling Down

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @GW_Yoda and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



PRT ENE Building Secure Parking Garage

Director Emily Piggot

As the trucks rolled into the garage and pulled into their parking bays, Emily waited alongside the elevator doors. She wasn't quite sure who the anonymous tip had come from, though she could make a few guesses. When it came down to it, the source was less important than the content. Calvert technically had the authority to take his strike squad out on a mission without seeking official clearance first, but he was supposed to give her a heads-up, including a general run-down on what he intended to achieve.

None of that had taken place.

Thus, when Emily got the message that Calvert had gone out to capture the Undersiders, working off information Emily wasn't privy to, that was bad enough. The additional information that he'd literally had them in custody, but then let them go again, was just icing on the cake. Which was why she was down in the parking garage, awaiting his return.

She wasn't sure exactly what his story would be, but she really wanted to hear what he came up with.

Even if he hadn't been uncovered when he climbed out of the nearest truck, she would've known him immediately from the way that he froze momentarily upon seeing her. She lifted her chin slightly, letting him know that she'd seen him too. As though it had been his intention all along, he started toward her.

"Director," he greeted her once he was in earshot. "What an unexpected surprise. Did something come up while I was offsite?"

Translation: What have you figured out, and how do I get out of it?

"I'm actually interested in what happened on your mission." She gave him a level stare. "Walk with me, Commander Calvert."

"My report will cover—" he began.

She cut him off with a raised hand. "I said, 'walk with me', Commander. Not 'go write your report'. Do I need to repeat myself a second time?" There was no way in hell she was going to let him sneak off and massage the facts until they fitted an appropriate narrative.

A muscle pulsed in his jaw, but when he answered, his voice was steady and calm. "No, ma'am, you do not. What do you wish to know?"

She tilted her head toward the elevators, and led the way into the first open one. His annoyance and overall disquiet were almost palpable as he followed her. She knew damn well that he didn't want to, but walking away now after she'd made her wishes clear would give her ample excuse to utterly screw his career, and they both knew it.

As the doors interleaved together, she pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator made its usual lightning-fast trip, the interval short enough that she was able to successfully ignore his non-verbal signals to begin the interview. Once they opened again, she led the way to her office, then seated herself behind the desk. He looked around for a guest chair, but she'd personally removed them.

"The Undersiders raid," she began. "Two truckloads of troopers, plus a chopper. Why so much force for such a low-priority target? Are they so very dangerous?"

The muscle pulsed again. "They've shown themselves capable of escape and evasion to an impressive degree. I wanted to make the cordon around their base impenetrable."

"Ah, yes, their base." She raised her eyebrows. "Where is their base, exactly? When did you find out about its location, and why isn't that information already on my desk?" She tapped the desk in question for emphasis.

"In a warehouse, half a mile from the northern ferry terminal." His voice was tight, the tone clipped. She noted the half-second pause, and decided that whatever came next was likely to be a lie. "I learned about it from a CI, who said they were prepping to move to a different location. Going through the usual channels would have taken too long. I had to get there fast."

It was a good lie, she had to admit. Just not good enough. "Did you get there in time? Are the Undersiders in custody?"

The muscles on both sides of his jaw could've been used to crack armour plate. "They are not, ma'am," he admitted reluctantly. "We had them, but Tattletale …" She watched him grit his teeth momentarily. "… made a phone call. To the Dark. He ordered me to stand my men down and let them go."

It was the truth, she knew instinctively. The Dark? Was he the one who tipped me off? She had the sudden feeling that the stakes were higher than she knew. However, she still had Calvert in front of her.

"Which you did." It wasn't even remotely a guess.

"Yes, ma'am." Again, the half-second pause. Emily's instincts flagged another incoming lie. "As you said, the Undersiders are a low-priority gang. I decided it was better not to lose any of my men to a dangerous psychopath like that." He almost managed to assume a virtuous expression as he said it.

Hah. Yeah. Right. You didn't want to put your own face in the crosshairs, did you?

"I see. Do you have any idea why the Undersiders might be able to call on the Dark for assistance at a moment's notice?" Emily spread her hands, inviting speculation. She very much doubted that he would respond with anything remotely resembling the truth, but whatever he said would betray the shape of his thoughts anyway.

The half-second hesitation came once more, confirming her suspicions. "Nothing concrete, ma'am. One of them might be related to him, or perhaps they've been working for him behind the scenes. I'm personally not familiar enough with them to be able to judge, one way or the other."

"Hmm. I see." She nodded slowly, as though considering the ideas he'd thrown up as a smokescreen. "Well, that's satisfied my curiosity. Make sure your report includes the relevant data regarding this CI, plus links to any other information that he's given you. Dismissed."

"Of course, ma'am. I'd be happy to." His tone was smooth and practiced, but she'd already caught the telltale pause. By now she was sure there was no confidential informant involved in this particular information chain, which raised disturbing ramifications.

She watched him leave the office and close the door behind him. The reason she'd pulled him into her office for this 'informal chat' was that she had an audio recorder in the desk, which she'd activated with her knee when she sat down. She was also aware that Armsmaster was working on a lie detector for his helmet. How far along it was, she wasn't sure; technobabble wasn't something she was familiar with.

What are you trying to hide, Calvert? What's the truth behind your lies?

And what's the Dark got to do with all this?

<><>​

Somers Rock

Death's Head

I looked around at the dingy bar. It hadn't looked like much from the outside, and the interior was equally unprepossessing. The cobwebbed bars on the windows had bled rust stains onto the paintwork, and the fluorescent lights were yellowing with age.

In other words, it was perfect for our needs.

Dad had explained to me that the waitress was deaf, so I wrote '1 Coke please' on her notepad. He simply raised two fingers instead of adding his own order. In time, she brought out two Coke bottles on a tray, along with glasses and paper-wrapped straws.

Nobody had objected when I brought Chewie in, but I didn't know what he might find down there on the floor, so I lifted him onto my lap. He didn't mind at all, turning around a few times and curling up for a nap. I'd walked him before we came in, so he'd be fine for a while.

Ignoring my glass, I popped the cap off the Coke and drank it from the bottle, while Dad poured his into the glass, the brown liquid fizzing over the ice cubes. It was ice-cold and deeply refreshing, but I never stopped moving my bugs around, as Dad had trained me. All the staff were under surveillance, whether they knew it or not.

"Well?" he asked quietly after sipping his drink.

"Nobody's making any surreptitious phone calls," I reported. "And I think I just spotted the Undersiders on the way here now. About thirty seconds out."

"Good." There was a slight smile on his face. "They're punctual. I can work with that."

I took another drink while idly stroking Chewie's ears, but that was for appearances' sake. My bugs were busy, patrolling every inch of my control radius for any hint of something out of the ordinary. In this sort of situation, it was easy to become distracted, which was why it was the best time to attack. I was determined not to let that happen.

Thirty-two seconds later by the clock on the wall (I had bugs on the hands, so I didn't have to look), the door was pushed open, and Grue walked in. Tattletale followed, her eyes flicking all around the interior of the bar. Regent was next, his sheer lack of fucks to give contrasting with her high-strung nerves, while Bitch was last, with three dogs following her in.

Dad stood up and I followed suit, still holding Chewie. "Greetings. You've met my daughter. She's now going by the name Death's Head. We know who you are. Be seated, and we can get down to business." With that, we sat down again.

Grue didn't hesitate; he came straight over and sat at our table, opposite Dad. "Thanks. And thanks for whatever you did to get Coil off our backs."

<><>​

The Dark

Danny nodded to acknowledge Grue's words. "I have potential uses for your team, and none at all for Coil. That's why I blew up his base, and it's also why I'll be shooting him in the head as soon as humanly possible. The man is incapable of not being treacherous."

Tattletale and Regent sat down next to Grue. While Regent seemed content with watching Ms Lindt's interactions with Taylor, Tattletale's twitchiness was ongoing. "Uh, sir, you know what I did, don't you?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Despite knowing that I was very real, you told Coil I was an urban legend, with the intent of causing his death at my hands."

Her face was so pale that she looked ill. "Yes," she whispered.

Folding his hands, Danny gave her a number three 'I am not impressed' stare. "On the one hand, young lady, you have caused me more than a little irritation. I spent years building a reputation worthy of my name, and it is not a plaything for you to toss around at a whim."

Tattletale seemed incapable of speech at that moment, so Grue carefully cleared his throat. "And on the other hand, sir?"

Danny allowed himself an austere smile, letting Tattletale partially off the hook. "On the other hand, Coil and I were always going to clash. You and your friends merely gave me the opening I needed."

<><>​

Death's Head

As the Undersiders entered, Chewie awoke and sat up on my lap, staring at the three larger dogs. His tail wagged, and he let out a tiny whine of eagerness. This caught Hellhound's eye (even in my head, I refused to call her 'Bitch'), and I gestured at the chair next to me. "Hi. Want to sit here?" I was aware of Regent watching us, but I didn't care. So long as he didn't pull any shit, I was fine with his presence.

Watching me warily, she sat down; at a hand signal, her dogs lay down beside her. She looked at Chewie as he stood up on my lap. "He looks well."

"He's only alive because of you, so thanks for that." She seemed to respond best to bluntness, so I didn't beat around the bush. "Do you want to hold him?"

Cautiously, she glanced at Dad, then back at me. "… yes?" The meek tone did not jibe with her habitually forbidding expression (I wasn't going to call it any kind of 'resting B face', even in jest) but given Dad's reputation, I wasn't surprised. Even the most powerful movers and shakers in Brockton Bay seemed to tiptoe around him.

"Here you go." I lifted Chewie carefully across, and she accepted him in her rough, blunt-fingered hands. He reached up to lick her face, and her expression softened. Nobody could long resist the urge to stroke those silky ears, and she was no different.

"What's his name?" she asked as he closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

"Chewie." I paused for the inevitable Star Wars reference, but she just looked at me blankly. "When we first got him, he chewed on my pyjama sleeve. He still likes to gnaw on things, but we're working on it." I couldn't help the fond smile that the memories of first meeting him brought back to me.

"He means a lot to you." There was almost a note of wonder in her voice.

I nodded. "We've only had him for a week, but I can't imagine being without him. I was in a really bad place when Dad got him, and he pulled me out of it."

She looked somewhat enlightened. "When Kaiser's guys took him, your father killed a whole bunch of men to get him back, plus Cricket and Hookwolf. Meaning, I'll have a lot less trouble hitting the dogfights from now on, if they even keep going with them." Her expression was savagely satisfied.

"Oh, didn't you know? Kaiser stopped the dogfights." I gestured at Chewie. "He figured it was the best thing to do, now that Dad's got a dog. Just in case, you know?"

She blinked as she absorbed the information. "I didn't know that. Makes sense, though. Kaiser's an asshole, but he's not a stupid asshole."

"I'm just glad they're over with." I meant it. Making dogs fight to the death was a horrible thing to do, and if Dad had needed to kill a bunch of people to save Chewie from being sacrificed in that way, I had no problem with it. Anyone who would murder a puppy like that was totally a horrible person, anyway. "What are your dogs' names?"

Her eyes widened as she realised I was being serious. "Uh, this one is Angelica, that's Brutus, and that's Judas." Each dog raised its head when she said its name, but made no other movement.

Looking them over, I could see scars and at least one missing ear. "Did you save them from other dogfights? That's pretty cool."

She ducked her head. "They don't deserve to die like that."

I put my hand on her arm. "I totally agree." A worrying thought occurred to me. "But what are the owners of those dogs going to do with them, if they can't fight them?" However, before she could answer, something Grue said caught my attention. "Excuse me."

<><>​

Grue

"Opening?" That sounded hopeful, in a 'Tattletale isn't getting shot in the head today' sort of way. As much as Brian enjoyed seeing her knocked off her perch of pure know-it-all smugness every now and again, he still valued her as a friend and teammate.

The Dark nodded once. "As I said, you have the potential to be useful to me. I understand that you used to work for Coil, albeit unwittingly for the most part. What were you getting out of it, apart from money?"

Brian took a deep breath. "I've got a younger sister, with attention and authority issues. Dad's ex-Navy, and he doesn't work well as a father for her. Too authoritarian. Mom's a druggie, and the reason Aisha's got those issues. Also …" He winced, recalling his mother's less savoury aspects. "There's a lot of reasons she's a bad fit. Anyway, I've got a place of my own, and with steady work I can convince CPS that I can care for her long-term."

"Understood." The Dark turned his attention to Tattletale. "From your attitude toward him, I'm assuming your relationship with Coil was less transactional and more threat-based?"

"Well, yeah." She seemed to be edging down from the peak of her fear. "The bastard literally had a gun to my head as a way of forcing me to work for him. Like I said in the files I sent you, I'm pretty sure he tortured me on a regular basis to find out my latest plots against him, just so he could laugh in my face while he dismantled them. If you kill him, I will happily dance on his grave."

"I see. To put your fears at ease, I don't work that way. If any of you decide to assist me in my goals, it will be of your own accord, not through threat of force." The Dark turned to Regent. "And you?"

"Can I ask a question first?" Without waiting for an answer, Regent kept talking. "Say I made killing one particular person a condition for working for you. Would you do it?"

The Dark raised an eyebrow. "That would depend on who the person was, and what they'd done."

Oh, for fuck's sake. "No!" Brian hissed. "We talked about this!" He turned back to the Dark. "Sorry, sorry. He heard about how my mother abused Aisha, and now he wants you to kill her. I thought I'd talked him out of it."

"Excuse me," Death's Head interjected, breaking off from her conversation with Bitch. "Your mom abused your sister?" She turned to the Dark. "Dad, can I kill her?"

"See?" Regent gestured around the table. "We all want her dead. Some of us just haven't admitted it yet."

"Kill contracts come later." The Dark's tone was firm. "Right now, we're negotiating terms of employment. Regent, is that your requirement? The death of Grue's mother?"

"Well, no, actually, but it'd be great if we could do that too." Regent took a deep breath. "Heartbreaker. If you can gank him, I'm all in. Team 'The Dark' forever."

Brian knew who Heartbreaker was, of course. The French Canadian cape was firmly entrenched in the list of malevolent Masters across the world. But what his connection to Regent was … wait a minute.

"Your father, I presume." The Dark forestalled Brian's epiphany by a matter of seconds. He looked thoughtful for a second. "Hijack, yes?"

"I'd say 'damn, you're good' … but you already knew that." Regent nodded. "I joined the Undersiders for protection against him. There's a good chance he'll be sending one or more of the others after me. He might even come himself. I'm not going back."

From the look on Tattletale's face, she'd either known or suspected this already. Bitch wasn't really paying attention, being more absorbed with Death's Head's puppy. Brian was actually kind of impressed that they'd found common ground so easily.

"If Heartbreaker comes to Brockton Bay, I'll kill him." The Dark left no room for speculation. "This isn't for you. He poses a threat to the city, and people I care for. Is that good enough?"

"What if I actually paid you?" Regent wasn't giving this up. "I've got a fair amount saved up."

"Regent …" Brian growled the name. "Not. The. Time." Regent was seated on the other side of Tattletale, so Brian couldn't kick him in the shin.

"No, seriously." Regent put his hands flat on the table and stared directly at the Dark. "I can see him sending his other kids after me. They'll cause a ton of problems in Brockton Bay. Nicholas can make anyone feel fear just by wanting it to happen. Guillaume can see through the eyes of anyone he touches. Cherie can read emotions city-wide, and make anyone near her feel whatever emotions she wants them to. Love, hate, suicidal depression, whatever. Flor can force you to take on compulsive behaviours that you have to carry out before you can do things like eat or drink or talk. Under his orders, they'll do anything they have to, to get hold of me and bring me back to him. You want to cut all that off at the pass and get my loyalty forever? One bullet, in the back of Heartbreaker's head. Or between the eyes, I don't care."

The Dark didn't shut him down immediately, which worried Brian. Once the spiel was over, he nodded slowly. "I'll take that under advisement. Ms Lindt, what was Coil offering you to work for him?"

Bitch's head came up. "I had a place I could put dogs to keep them safe. Medical treatment and food and stuff. But like Regent said, if you help me save the dogs, I'll work for you."

"Save the dogs …?" The Dark sounded slightly puzzled. "Which dogs are we referring to, exactly?"

Death's Head cleared her throat. "The dogs that were competing in the dog fights. Their owners probably hung onto them in the short term, but keeping them fed and stuff is going to start looking pretty expensive, especially if they can't win money back with them. Is that what you meant?" She addressed the question to Bitch.

"Uh, yeah." Bitch looked over at the Dark. "Those dogs. If they can't fight 'em, they'll probably just kill 'em."

"I see." The Dark drummed his fingers on the table briefly, then indicated Brian and the others, one at a time. "So, your terms are: help Grue gain custody of his sister, kill Coil for Tattletale, kill Heartbreaker for Regent, and save the dogs for Ms Lindt. Am I missing anything important?"

<><>​

The Dark

One by one, the Undersiders shook their heads. Danny took a moment to ponder the evils of the world—not one of the Undersiders was in the game out of simple greed or the love of violence—then got back to business. "As you know, I've already marked Coil for death, mainly because he will keep coming back at me until one of us is dead, and I'm disinclined to give him the opportunity to do so. Heartbreaker is a taller order, but not impossible." He gave Regent a steady look. "Anything you can give me about his habits and living situation would be invaluable in that regard."

"Ah, yeah," agreed Regent with as much excitement Danny had seen him exhibit to that point. "I'll totally give you as much as I can remember about where he was living and stuff."

"Good." Danny was not in the least bit surprised. "I'm sure it will all be useful. Grue, do you have a problem with doing manual labour?"

"No, sir." The lad sounded surprised, but willing. "It's just that people were more willing to hire me as a supervillain than as a worker."

Danny nodded; it made sense to him. "And the Empire has its hooks in most of the construction companies in Brockton Bay." He steepled his fingers before him. "However, I have connections in the Dockworkers' Association. If you show up there tomorrow morning, they should be able to sign you on with minimal fuss. The Empire's never been able to get a foothold there."

"Not that they've got much of a foothold anywhere right now." Taylor smirked. "It seems that when the PRT raided them yesterday morning, some mysterious stranger let slip their identities. Every one of their capes from Kaiser on down is either out of town, in a cell, or decorating a slab."

"Now, imagine that." Tattletale seemed to have at least partially regained her composure. "I wonder how that could've happened?" The sarcasm in the rhetorical question could've been used to resurface I-95, all the way from Houlton to Miami.

"Information was exchanged." Danny looked over the Undersiders. "And that leads me back around to the question none of you have asked yet: why I might put so much time and effort into keeping you around."

They paused and glanced at each other, then Regent shrugged. "I guess we assumed we make great minion material?"

"Speak for yourself," Tattletale retorted. "I just didn't want to jinx it."

Grue took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"You're aware of the man Coil had impersonating me." Danny raised one eyebrow slightly, and Tattletale hunched her shoulders accordingly. "Last night, Oni Lee killed him, then I killed Oni Lee. Lung will be quite angry with me as a result. He's not about to stand down, so I'm going to have to kill him. And while I can pull it off with Death's Head's assistance, it'll be a lot easier with competent help."

Regent rubbed the back of his neck. "Is it just me, or are you killing a lot of villains all of a sudden, for someone who used to make a point of never taking contracts on capes?"

Danny sighed. "Back in the day, the villains would've simply stepped aside. But the latest crop mostly weren't around when I made my name. So, I'm going to have to make it all over again." He placed his hands flat on the table. "But that's not why I arranged to meet you here. Your base was already compromised before Coil's raid, which means you're going to need some secure location to move into. Also, to keep your dogs."

Ms Lindt spoke up at that. "I've already got a place … don't I?"

"Sorry." Taylor said what they were all thinking. "He could easily wait for you to visit them, then follow you back to your new base after."

And that was the best case; Danny could think of far worse.

Grue broke the silence that followed. "So … do you have somewhere we can go?"

Danny had been thinking the matter over since the Coil raid, and he figured he had a solution in mind. It was unconventional, to say the least, but that didn't matter.

What mattered was keeping them out of Coil's hands, any way he could.

<><>​

Coil

Timeline A

Thomas Calvert wasn't sure how much Piggot suspected and how much she actually knew. The latter could not be too extensive because if it was, he would currently be sitting in a cell. That was the only bright spot in the entire day.

One of the worst aspects of it all—just barely edged out by the loss of Tattletale, his base, his mercenaries, and the fact that the Dark knew who he was—was that Piggot still held her position as Director. He wasn't entirely certain how she'd managed it, but her raid on the Empire Eighty-Eight had somehow gone off flawlessly, capturing all the Empire capes still operating within Brockton Bay. That level of success went a hell of a long way toward offsetting the cowboy nature of the operation itself and rendering her effectively bulletproof, at least for now; Chief Director Costa-Brown liked subordinates who Got Things Done, after all.

His only chance of climbing back on top of the heap therefore depended on locating Tattletale without alerting the Dark to his actions. Regarding the girl herself, his thoughts veered between murderous and acquisitive; her treachery demanded appropriate punishment, but he could still get a lot of use out of her Thinker power before her inevitable end at his hands. How dare she out me to him like that! The sheer level of betrayal was breathtaking.

Fortunately, it seemed that the Dark had opted not to pass on Thomas' criminal identity to Director Piggot; why the remorseless killer was exercising such restraint, he had no idea. If the roles were reversed, he certainly wouldn't have done the same. And if the Dark imagined the deed would convince Thomas to lower his guard, he was sadly mistaken. Thomas was already double-checking everything he did, certain that the other shoe would drop at any moment.

Without his main base as a refuge outside the PRT building (he'd have to leave sometime), he felt somewhat exposed. Then he reminded himself that the Dark had somehow gotten all the way into the base, killed most of his mercenaries, then set off the self-destruct. If he could do that in a situation where Thomas had personally set up the security, then there was nothing stopping him from doing it in the PRT building, or anywhere else for that matter.

Tattletale was almost certainly working for the Dark now. The treacherous little cow no doubt knew enough of his habits that she could give her new employer a good idea of where Thomas was likely to be at any given moment. Worse, she'd be almost certainly working to convince him to kill Thomas instead of letting him go, because she was vindictive like that.

I've got to assume that he's planning to kill me at any moment, and take precautions. Disposing of Tattletale would be a good start—she couldn't keep betraying him if she was dead—but putting an end to the Dark himself would be the perfect solution.

If the stories he'd heard were true (he was inclined to dismiss most of them), people had been trying to kill the Dark for twenty years; all those who'd tried were dead. But the stories were just as insistent that the Dark wasn't a cape, and thus heir to all the weaknesses of the human condition. He could be killed.

The trick would lie in pulling it off.

In this instance, Thomas believed he had a slight advantage. The Dark was apparently invested in the safety and well-being of the Undersiders, whereas Calvert didn't suffer from the disease of loyalty. Anyone who took his coin was basically one more meat-shield between him and incoming fire. But if the Dark was willing to put himself at risk for them, that could be where Thomas got his break.

Still, there was the other timeline, where he'd never made his move on the Undersiders at all. In that one, the phone call with the Dark had never happened, so he didn't have his deadline. His base was gone in both timelines, of course, which meant his options were still limited, but if he could kill or capture Tattletale before she had the chance to call upon the Dark for assistance …

Hmmm.

<><>​

Timeline B

The Undersiders' base looked calm and peaceful, and so it should. In this timeline, it had never been raided. Thomas sat in his car half a block away, observing it through binoculars; any closer and he'd risk tipping them off about his presence.

He was reasonably sure Tattletale didn't know about his fallback location, which meant the Dark was unaware of it too. Once he had her, he could take her there and extract all the information she had about the Dark at his leisure. Following that, he could even set a trap with her as bait. The Dark would die; she would die. He would be free to enact his plans for Brockton Bay.

He froze for a moment as the metal door opened, and the four teens exited. There were no dogs with them, and they were out of costume; from that, he deduced that they weren't going rooftop riding. This is getting easier and easier. Laborn paused to lock the door behind them, then they were strolling down the street toward him.

Sliding down in his seat wasn't easy for someone of his height, but he managed, joints protesting. With his eyes just above the windowsill, he watched them go past on the other side of the street. Lindt was stomping along with her hands in her jacket pockets, but the other three were chatting animatedly about what they intended to buy at the Market.

Thank you, he decided. I'll definitely take that.

If they were going to the Lord Street Market, he had several options to work with. The shops had Enforcers to deter theft and vandalism, and he could flash his PRT credentials to get them to work with him. Lindt actually being a wanted criminal would only work in his favour there.

Sinking farther down into the seat, he adjusted his rearview mirror to follow them as they proceeded down the street and around the corner. A fly settled on his hand and he waved it aside. None of the Undersiders looked back; even Tattletale had missed him as she walked by.

Once he gauged that they wouldn't hear it, he started the car and moved off; he knew where they were going, so all he had to do was get there first. The temptation was strong to break in (of course he had a key) and set explosives, but if Lindt had left her dogs on guard, there was no way he'd get past them without killing them. That would be a dead giveaway (pun intended) for the rest of the Undersiders.

He got over to Lord Street as soon as he could, then merged with the flow of traffic heading for the Market. Under normal circumstances, he would've followed their vehicle—he'd been trained in surveillance techniques like that—but again, the odds were too high that Tattletale would make him. So the plan was to get there first, pick them out of the crowd, and trail them discreetly until Tattletale put herself in a vulnerable position.

As he drove, he maintained a watch on his mirrors as a matter of course; not just for good driving, but also to make sure the Undersiders hadn't pulled a con on him and gotten on his tail. He knew the precise description and license plate of the car they were using, and there was nothing matching that behind him. Still, there was an itch between his shoulderblades that he couldn't shake, so he maintained his lookout.

He found a place to park relatively easily, two cars down from where a tall balding guy and his teenage daughter were getting out of their own vehicle. The girl was holding a puppy, which seemed inordinately interested in everything around it, including Thomas. However, she bore zero resemblance to either Lindt or Tattletale (or even Vasil in drag) and no amount of theatrical makeup could have made Laborn look like the father, so Thomas ignored them and headed into the Market.

His best chance of tailing the Undersiders once they were inside was to spot them before they saw him, so he went into a newsagency alongside the main doors and began browsing the magazine racks while keeping an eye on the main concourse. This was the kind of thing he was good at; people rarely paid attention to someone who was obviously distracted like that. The best part, of course, was that he had the height to see over the racks while leaning forward as though to get a better look at the magazine titles.

Perhaps a dozen people filtered in while he was thus occupied, and another dozen exited. He kept up his vigil, maintaining an awareness of his surroundings, and managed a credible act of pretending to choose between one magazine and another. If the Undersiders didn't show soon, he would have to change posts so as not to raise suspicions. Not of what he was actually doing, of course, but of shoplifting.

If that happened, if the Enforcers were called, he would have to do some fast talking before matters escalated. He didn't want to have to go there for two reasons: first, any kind of disturbance would be likely to draw attention; and second, he wasn't precisely certain how much respect they would show his PRT credentials. Getting tased or pepper-sprayed because they didn't like his looks or attitude would wreck his day in every way possible.

And then the Undersiders passed by. Tattletale was almost hidden by Laborn's bulk, but Laborn himself was impossible to miss. Thomas straightened from his faux perusal and sauntered from the newsagent in pursuit.

Using the tall young man as a beacon, with the blonde hair of Tattletale on one side and the auburn of Lindt on the other to make sure that they hadn't peeled off, Thomas began to tail them. The first place they went to was a food court, which could have been a problem, but Thomas was careful to take up station out of Tattletale's line of sight, never directly looking at them. He acquired some overpriced fried chicken, and even managed to finish it and wipe his fingers with a napkin before the Undersiders got up from their table.

Lindt was the first to break away from the pack, entering an army surplus store to examine their boots and jackets. Almost at the same time, Vasil vanished into a shop exhibiting the latest console games. Finally, Laborn went into an exercise equipment store, leaving Tattletale wandering without anyone to protect her.

Thomas carefully closed the distance, always keeping several people between himself and her, looking for the perfect time to strike. If he just grabbed her in the main concourse, there was always an Enforcer nearby, and she could escape in the resultant chaos. But if he could get to her with no witnesses around, he could capture or kill her with minimal fuss then exfiltrate immediately afterward.

Up until now, she'd been wandering almost aimlessly, but now her head came up and she ducked into a doorway. Thomas closed the distance, and realised that it was a ladies' restroom. Not perfect, but definitely workable.

Making up his mind, he closed the last of the distance, opened the door, and entered. As usual, there was a short corridor before he emerged into the outer area, with the handbasins. Just a few yards away, there stood Tattletale. Leaning back against the counter, grinning smugly at him.

"Hi." She had to know what he was here for, but her grin widened, and she gave him the finger with both hands at once.

Something was wrong. He began to pull his pistol from its shoulder holster, then froze. The ceramic tiling in the room gave it excellent acoustics, emphasising the sound of the pistol hammer clicking back … right behind him. Tattletale then moved to the side, and he saw his reflection in the mirror … and the man standing behind him with a gun to his head.

Well, fuck.

"Tell me, Coil." For all that it came from a tall balding man with glasses, the voice projected menace more effectively than anyone Thomas had ever met. "Are you afraid of the Dark?"

Before Thomas could muster a reply, that timeline ended abruptly.

<><>​

Timeline A

Motherfucker.

Thomas Calvert finished up the paperwork he'd been handling while his other self went and got himself killed in the alternate timeline. As he shut down his computer and prepared to leave for the day, he mulled over what he'd learned from the incident.

He set up that trap with the cooperation of the Undersiders, because he was always intending to kill me.

This means him giving me a week to leave town was a ploy to make sure I don't leave right now. He fully intends to kill me, no matter what.

He knew I was going to target Tattletale. Still knows I intend to.

He might have a teenage daughter, who owns a puppy. That actually fit the story he'd heard about Cricket and Hookwolf being killed over a stolen dog.

Of course, the father in the parking lot may well be a totally different person from the man in the women's restroom, but he suspected not.

He concentrated for a few moments, attempting to recall any pertinent details of either the daughter, the car, or the puppy, but got nothing. They'd been too peripheral to his intentions at the time.

He's already working with Tattletale. She's telling him my most likely moves.

Okay, what I need to do is go somewhere she has no knowledge of. She can't pull information out of thin air. This was something he had carefully tested. Her gift demonstrated insane levels of intuition, certainly, but she wasn't actually clairvoyant.

Thomas owned two houses in the suburbs, only one of which was on the public record as belonging to him. Likewise, he'd acquired a warehouse in the industrial part of Brockton Bay via a series of cut-outs; his name was in no way connected to it. Both of them contained a cache of weapons and spare costumes, stored away on the remote off-chance that he might need them someday.

And now he did.

Splitting time once more, he got up from his desk. In one of his timelines, he would go to the warehouse and bunker down, while in the other he would go to his house, make his way via the underground passage to the other house, and settle down to wait. If the Dark was looking to kill him (which he couldn't afford not to assume), then Thomas would have a perfect line of sight on the decoy house, and a finger on the button to detonate the explosives that were built into its interior walls.

Tattletale would've told the Dark about Thomas' powers, of course. It was probably the first thing she'd blabbed about. This made the Dark better informed than anyone Thomas had faced before. However, this didn't mean he was capable of winning if Thomas knew what was going on.

In fact, given the lack of a corresponding attack when his alter ego was killed in the other timeline, it was entirely possible that the Dark had no idea of how to negate the advantage bestowed by Thomas' power. And if this blind-man's-bluff came down to Thomas and the Dark circling each other, both waiting for a slip from their opponent, the numbers favoured Thomas.

Yes, Thomas decided. The Dark was formidable in a head-to-head contest, but Thomas didn't play that way.

Once I know the score, I can't help but win. It's simple as that.

<><>​

Hebert Household Basement

Death's Head

Taylor watched from the steps as her father selected a sledgehammer from the basement tool rack and stood there for a moment, weighing it in his hands. Chewie wriggled in her arms, but in an I-want-to-lick-your-ear way as opposed to an I-want-to-get-down way. His tongue was warm and wet on her ear, but she resisted the urge to giggle, her attention fixed on her father.

Up came the hammer then down again, directed at a particular slab that looked newer than the rest. Grey-white chunks cracked and then shattered as the hammer rose and fell; Chewie had stiffened at the first impact, but relaxed in her arms as she soothed him. Finally, the hammer smashed the last piece of the slab, and Taylor watched her father sweep away the rubble from the lid of a metal box.

"What's in there?" she asked, her ears ringing slightly from the echoes of shattering concrete.

He opened the box and hefted out a rifle, its gleaming metallic exterior fairly exuding lethal purpose. There was more in the box than that, but Danny seemed only interested in the rifle for the moment. Holding it with the ease of long usage, he sighted down the barrel then pulled back a lever and dry-fired it. The sharp clack echoed through the basement.

When he turned to look up at her, his face held a slight smile.

"The rest of your education."



End of Part Fourteen

 

[woodzrox]

Hey, long time no see, thanks Ack!

 

[JohnWolfie34]

Always a pleasure to see this updated

 

[Avernus]

One thing that strikes me as odd is that the PRT keep acknowledging that The Dark isn't a parahuman. Given his legendary capabilities, they should be suspecting some kind of combat Thinker along the lines of a discount Contessa. Not that anyone in the Brockton Bay PRT knows about Contessa specifically, only the Triumvirate and the Chief Director. However some kind of subtle Thinker power should probably be on their minds given the mindset of the PRT.

Click to shrink...

As already mentioned in the story, they have Thinkers who can find out whether somebody is a cape or not.

"So who are you going to be calling?" Krieg frowned. "And why hasn't the PRT gotten involved years ago, if he's so dangerous?"

"The PRT haven't gotten involved for three reasons," Kaiser said, carefully turning the pages of the notebook. "One: the Dark doesn't normally kill capes. Two: the Dark isn't a cape. Three: they know what's good for them."

"Not a cape?" Krieg shook his head. "I find that extremely hard to believe."

"Apparently the PRT believes it." Kaiser shrugged. "They have Thinkers who can ferret out the truth about that sort of thing. The fact of the matter is that they've never gone after the Dark." He stopped turning the pages and prodded a number. Beside it was written just one word: DARK.

Click to shrink...

 

[quasit17]

The sheer level of betrayal was breathtaking.

Click to shrink...

Calvert didn't suffer from the disease of loyalty.

Click to shrink...

Coil I know it's hard for you to understand but the latter causes the former.

 

[Avernus]

Coil is one of those hypocrites who gets really, really mad when other people do to him what he constantly does to them. And lacks the self criticism to even realize it.