"Dad!"

Taylor stood, frozen, as her father hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. Courier Six stood looming over the man, filling the air with an almost palpable tension.

"Six!" Taylor hissed, leaping forward and dropping to her father's side. He groaned as she did, grimacing and rubbing his jaw, but nothing looked broken; he seemed more surprised than anything.

"You didn't need to do that!" Taylor groused, glaring up at her supposed partner. Courier Six only snorted in response, crouching down on her father's other side.

"Easy, easy, I didn't hit him that hard," He assured, "Man was getting hysterical. Times like this, you gotta snap him out of it before things get out of hand, and someone does something they'll regret in the morning. And I don't mean that in the funny way."

Taylor's father, for his part, had nearly recovered his senses as he blinked and worked his jaw to get the soreness out. He hadn't said anything yet, not beyond a few pained groans and grunts at least, but there was definitely some kind of response stewing in his head as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Now, here's how things are gonna work," Six continued, in a tone that was just shy of threatening. Between her already frayed nerves from the day's events, and Six's penchant for brute force, to say that Taylor was on edge would be a massive understatement. She wanted to say she trusted Six... But could she? After today? And when her father was involved? If things got volatile, her probably ruined relationship with her father would be the least of her worries. "You, and me, and your daughter here, we're all gonna sit down and have a drink. And maybe, -maybe- if you've got your head screwed on right and proper after that, we'll have a little talk."

Daniel Hebert stared at Six, wide-eyed, for a long moment. Then he turned to Taylor. She could see the pain and fear in his eyes. Fear of losing her like he'd lost Mom.

It... hurt knowing that she'd caused it.

"Please, Dad?" She implored. "At least, don't be mad at Six. It's not his fault."

Again, her father looked back to Six.

"I-" His voice cracked. "I don't know… How long has all this been going on? You said you're a cape? Since when?"

"Since… Since the locker…" Taylor admitted.

"And Six? A-and you? How long have you two...?"

"Bout'... A week or so?" Six replied. He hooked one arm under her father's, Taylor quickly following suit, and together they pulled her father to his feet. In his free hand, Six held a couple of bottles full of a cloudy, yellowish liquid.

"Here. Have a drink, steady your nerves a bit, and then we can talk like the responsible adults we're pretending we are."

Taylor's father took the bottle, slightly but nonetheless visibly shaking, and pulled the cork from the top, taking a sip. He then immediately spat it back out, eyes bulging as he doubled over in a fit of coughing.

"What the hell- *is that*?" He wheezed, hands on his knees.

"Tequila!" Six crowed, raising his own bottle. "Wasteland style! Home-brewed."

"I think-" Danny coughed again, "I'm pretty sure there's paint thinner that isn't that strong. I'll stick with beer, but…"

He stood up a bit straighter, looking Taylor in the eyes.

"Taylor, I figured you were up to something with all this skulking around you've been doing, but I never imagined it was this big." As disheveled and roughed-up as he'd gotten, his expression was just… bewildered. "I know I've been... absent, these past few years, but I need you to tell me about this kind of thing!"

"Then will you listen?" Taylor shot back, almost without thinking.

For just a moment, her father looked like he wanted to just shrivel up and disappear; pain, and anger, and fear written in every crease of his face. It almost seemed, Taylor had noticed, like he'd been aging faster, ever since Mom died; every day that passed weighed on him twice as hard. Now though, it seemed like another five years had been piled on to that in just five minutes, as her father sighed wearily.

"Alright… Okay." He finally conceded. "Just… Let me get something to drink that isn't an industrial strength disinfectant. You two can... take a seat, I suppose."

Taylor and Six both nodded as he shuffled off. Six found a seat on the couch, flopping carelessly into the cushion, and after a moment's thought, Taylor sat next to him, on the other end of the couch. From the kitchen, she could hear the fridge door opening with the rattle of bottles, jars, and cartons, and then closing a second later. When her father returned to the living room, plus one bottle of beer, he paused for a moment, and then moved to sit in the armchair opposite them.

"...Okay," He sighed, gingerly sinking into the chair, "So… please, explain. You're a cape, Taylor?"

She nodded, calling a handful of flies to move in an acrobatic circle between them.

"I can control bugs. Everything within… a couple blocks or so? Sometimes I can call more."

Danny watched the flies for a few moments, eyebrows raised.

"That's… huh." He finally concluded, taking a swig of his beer. "That's all?"

"I can sort of… see through their senses, too. It's hard to really describe, but I can pick someone out in a crowd easy enough."

Her father's eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

"I-… Can see how that'd be useful."

They were silent for a few moments; neither Taylor nor her father entirely sure how to continue. They'd become practically strangers living in the same house, and only now were they really realizing it. Six, for his part, seemed content to sip his 'tequila' and spectate.

"You said that you and him," Her father nodded towards Six,"have been working together for about a week, but you got your... powers after the locker… What were you doing in between, then?"

"Preparing. Making my costume, mostly." Taylor shrugged off her coat to show off the bodysuit underneath. "I read that spider silk was supposed to be almost as strong as steel, so I used a bunch of spiders to make as much silk as I could, and taught myself how to weave it into cloth."

Her dad's expression widened even further, impressed, and he nodded along.

"Well, I'm glad you're trying to stay safe," He conceded, though Taylor caught his muttering afterwards. "As safe as you can be in a cape fight…"

"When I ran into Six the other day was the first night I'd actually gone out in costume." Taylor continued, after another moment of awkward silence. She pointedly didn't mention what had finally driven her to take the plunge. "You, uh… Might've seen it on the news, actually..."

Danny looked away, eyes narrowed and staring off into space as he tried to remember.

"Last week...? Sounds familiar, I think."He murmured to himself, sipping his drink. "...Yeah, yeah, I saw it. Courier Six and another cape were credited for the capture of -!"

Her father's eyes bulged as he made the connection, and he rocketed out of his seat, only to choke on his drink.

"You fought LUNG!?" He wheezed. "On your first night!?"

Taylor winced at his shout. In retrospect, it had been a pretty stupid idea. She'd been lucky Six had arrived when he had, before she did something stupid.

"Well..." She evaded, looking away. "Six fought Lung, mostly. I mostly just chased off most of the unpowered gang members..."

"Distracted him when I needed it, too!" Six suddenly added, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short, kid; you carried your weight pretty well for a newbie."

Her father said nothing; he just stood there, in shocked silence, for almost half a minute. When he finally did sit back down, though, he seemed… tired. Sagging under a weight he'd been carrying for years that'd just gotten heavier.

"Christ…" He grunted, one hand over his eyes as he pressed his fingers to his temples. He almost sounded mournful. "Some father I am… So wrapped up in my own bullshit that I don't even realize my own daughter's going out to fucking fight supervillains every night!"

His tone turning furious, Danny slammed his fist down on the side table, rattling his near empty bottle with the force. For a brief instant, his face was a seething glower, and Taylor found even herself recoiling slightly from her father's sudden anger. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him like this, so rarely did he let his anger get the best of him. Then, with a defeated sigh, he schooled his expression into one of neutrality.

"I'm… sorry, Taylor. You shouldn't have to see that." His voice was hollow. Empty. Like the machine that'd had him running on autopilot these past few years was running out of steam. "I'm just a… a broken down old man who can't even protect his daughter. I'm amazed you don't hate me for how much I've let you down."

"Dad… No," She sighed, "And I don't hate you. I know how hard you work everyday… I didn't want you to worry."

"Not working at the right things, obviously," Her father muttered, flashing her a wan smile for a brief instant. "But, I'm not just going to not worry. I can't sit back and accept you going out and risking your life every night. Have you looked at going to the PRT? The Wards?"

Taylor shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her father's gaze.

"I thought about it… I just," She grimaced, "I don't want it to be more of the same… crap as school."

"You mean the bullies? I thought you said they backed off?"

"For like, a week, yeah." Taylor sighed. "Nobody gives a shit! The teachers stopped pretending to care the moment the cops moved on, and they stopped hiding the moment the teachers stopped looking."

Her father's nostrils flared for a second as he clenched his bottle tight.

"We're not done talking about that," He declared, "But back to the Wards; the PRT can train you, help protect you… Taylor, I love you, but I'm not going to let you risk your life needlessly!"

"I'm not, though!" She shot back, straightening up as she realized what her father was pressing for. "Six's been teaching me!"

Her father turned to look at Six for confirmation.

"S'true." He hummed. "How to fight properly, first aid… The basics, really. Can't survive in the Wasteland without 'em." He shrugged, taking another gulp of liquor.

"I'm sorry, Taylor, but that's not entirely reassuring to me. I'm not willing to trust your safety to the word of… a single delusional cape, no matter how strong he might be. He thinks the apocalypse happened hundreds of years ago, for God's sake!"

"Wha-? Delusional?" Six grunted."Oh, oh! Yeah, no, I figured that out. Turns out, I'm from... like, another dimension? I guess? Whatshisname, Armsmaster, mentioned something about an 'Earth Bet'. I'm no expert in… multidimensional-quantum-whateverthefuck science, so most of the details went over my head, but he seemed confident about it. Did I never tell you about that?"

The Hebert patriarch stared incredulously. Then he turned back to Taylor, one eyebrow raised as if asking for clarification. Taylor could only shrug; she'd had suspicions based on what she'd heard from Armsmaster, but now Six had finally confirmed it.

"You're from… another Earth." Her father said slowly, not quite disbelieving, but clearly skeptical. "How?"

"The Transportalponder." Six replied simply. "Supposed to teleport me between the Mojave and Big Empty, but it sent me here instead. Dunno why, but I've got some guys working on figuring out a way home right now."

"...And everything you said about… where you came from?" Her father asked with some trepidation.

"All true. The war, the Legion, Hoover Dam; all of it. Swear on my own shallow grave." Six held up one hand and placed the other over his heart for emphasis. And then shrugged. "At least, far as I know."

Danny stared at Six, his face blank. Grabbing his beer, he went to take a gulp, only to find it empty instead. Slowly, his gaze tracked over to the bottle of tequila that Six had handed to him earlier. Picking it up, Taylor's father uncorked the bottle, and took a sip, visibly wincing as it went down. Then he took a longer swig, garnering a whoop from Six.

"And... Armsmaster believes this?" He finally asked, after setting the bottle back down.

"I think I heard him talking about it earlier today." Taylor confirmed. "It sounded like he believed it to me."

Her father nodded. Then his nodding slowed.

"...As much as I'd like to assume the best here, what, exactly, were you doing talking with Armsmaster today?"

Taylor grimaced. Her father had already freaked out about her encounter with Lung. She didn't want to find out how today's events stacked up to that. Thankfully, Six seemed happy to fill in.

"Kid probably- No, she definitely saved my damn life, that's what she was doing. I'd've walked straight into that trap if it weren't for her."

Though Taylor kept her eyes averted, she couldn't stop the light blush growing on her face. Maybe Six was overstating her role a bit, but... Well, it was nice to be recognized.

"But what, exactly, happened?" Her father pressed.

"That."

Looking up, Taylor followed Six's pointed finger to the television. It'd continued playing on mute since she and Six had arrived and confronted her father, bathing the room in a dull glow. The show that had been on earlier had ended, and now it had been replaced by the evening news.

More specifically, it had been replaced by a news report on the Empire's attack earlier.

Taking up the majority of the screen was a bird's eye view of none other than Six's house, debris and PRT vans littering the front yard. Danny fumbled with the remote for a moment, before unmuting the speakers.

"...-resulted in the capture of not one, but two capes of the Empire 88, and the hospitalization of two more. In a recent statement released by the PRT, they stated that the cause of the injuries was, quote, 'Not a result of PRT or Protectorate action', but credited local independent capes 'Courier Six' and 'Cazador' for their quick response, to the attack, allowing the PRT to mitigate collateral damage in the surrounding residential area. Furthermore, eyewitness reports describe 'Courier Six' engaged with the villain Kaiser prior to the PRT's arrival on scene, as well as swarms of insects believed to be the work of 'Cazador'-"

The TV went silent once more as Danny hit mute.

"Cazador…" He breathed, sounding almost faint."That's… That's you, I'm guessing?"

Taylor nodded. Her father leaned back in his chair, processing the new information.

"Four. You… and him... fought four capes… And won?" The way he said it, it sounded almost like he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. "I- I don't know what to say…"

"Maybe try 'Thank you, daughter, for actually telling me all this' for a start?" Six offered, with more than a little sarcasm. "And follow that with a 'Thank you so very much, Mister Courier Six, for convincing my very stubborn daughter that maybe keeping all of this a secret *isn't* the best idea she's ever had.' if you're looking to go double-or-nothing."

Both Taylor and her father shot him a glare, for roughly the same reason, though neither of them put any real heat into it.

"He is right." Her father finally admitted, "Taylor, I'm… I'm glad, really glad, that you came clean with this, and that you're at least taking precautions to stay safe, but… The PRT and Wards, maybe I can't protect you, but they can."

"Dad!"

He held up a hand to preempt Taylor's argument. Already, she could see his resolve visibly hardening.

"I'm not budging on this, Taylor. I'm proud of you, for everything you've done so far, but… I can't lose you."

Taylor opened her mouth to argue, but she could already feel the arguments dying on her lips. She could understand her father's reasoning… Hell, if their roles were reversed, she might even make the same call.

She let out a sigh, feeling tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. That didn't make it chafe any less though.

"Y'know, I get what you're trying to do here," Six suddenly interjected, "but I think you might have your priorities a little out of whack, Danny."

Her father glowered at the waster.

"No," He growled,"I don't think caring about my daughter's wellbeing is having the wrong priorities, Courier Six."

"Not saying you shouldn't care about that," Six shot back, holding up his hands defensively "Just that you're doing it the wrong way, is all. You're so concerned about 'protecting' the Kid, but one day, you're gonna fail; the PRT will too, sooner or later."

"So you're saying I should just let her go out, and… what? Just accept that my daughter's going to die!?"

"Fuck no!" Six snapped, leaning forward. "I'm saying don't try to stop it happening; teach her to keep herself alive when it happens, and pick herself back up after."

Both Taylor and her father blinked, digesting Six's words.

"Y'know… Maybe it's just the alcohol speaking, but this all feels very familiar…" Six continued with a drawl, "Reminds me of another guy named Daniel, funny enough."

"What happened?" Taylor asked, after a moment's silence.

Six didn't reply at first. Then he let out a short sigh.

"Right, so you've got this tribe, The Sorrows, living in an isolated little valley called Zion. These folks're practically kids: They lived in their own isolated little patch of paradise that provided everything they could ever need, they never had to go to war with other tribes, and their only interactions with people outside their group were mostly missionaries. Of course, one day the White Legs, another tribe, arrive. Now these folk, they're dead set on wiping out the Sorrows, and they won't hesitate for a moment to rape, murder, and pillage while they did it."

Taking a long gulp from his drink, Six continued.

"The reason why… Well, frankly it's a whole other story for another time, but long story short, they were trying to completely wipe out another tribe, called the New Canaanites, and the Sorrows were helping the New Canaanites by giving them shelter, so they had to die too. The Sorrows don't know how to wage war, or defend themselves properly, and without help they're gonna get slaughtered; you with me so far?"

"I think so…" Taylor's father murmured. "These 'Tribes'... They're, what, like Native Americans? Like the Cherokee and the Navajo, and those sorts?"

"I… Guess? I mean, just about all the tribes're descended from folks who lived before the war, if that's what you mean by native." Six waggled his hand noncommittally. "Tribes are… A 'family of families' I guess, is how it was explained to me. Like, you get a few people together, they bond, look out for each other, and you've got a family. Get a few families together, and you get a tribe. Hell, get a few tribes together, have them put down roots, and you've got yourself a town, or city or whatever. Different scale, but still the same sort of idea there; everyone looks out for and takes care of each other. Care for the sick, raise the kids, y'know."

Taylor found herself listening in to Six's rambling more and more as her father nodded. There was something... viscerally intriguing about the tiny glimpse Six provided of an entire alternate Earth. Not like Aleph, which had apparently had the same history as Bet up until the 70's or 80's, but an Earth that was radically different, to the point that it was practically alien.

"Anyway,

back to the Sorrows," Six continued. "So, the Sorrows can't really defend themselves, and these two New Canaanites, Joshua Graham and Daniel, decide that they've got to help the Sorrows, because it's their fault that the White Legs are there at all, right? Except they can't agree how to do it; Graham wants to fight back, teach the Sorrows how to wage war and defend their homes, but Daniel wants to get them all packed up and just move east, where the White Legs can't follow. Daniel's a religious man; in his mind, keeping the Sorrows' spiritual purity is more important than defending the land they live on, and Joshua's plan is going to… damn them all to Hell, or something. But… I'm getting off track here…"

Suppressing a burp, Six regarded the half-empty bottle in his hands, before shrugging and taking another gulp.

"Long story short, I ended up trapped in Zion with these folks. Couldn't go back the way I came in, and they couldn't help me until I helped the Sorrows. Some of the tribe agrees with Joshua, and some agree with Daniel, and I end up playing the Tie-breaker… Somehow…"

"I see… But I'm still not sure how this is all relevant, Six…" Taylor's father grunted.

"Right, right, I'm… Rambling a bit, ain't I? Lemme just tell you what I told Daniel."

Six sighed, taking a deep breath before levelling his gaze.

"I told Daniel, 'You can protect The Sorrows all you want now, but you won't be able to do it forever. Next time, it won't be the White Legs, it'll be the 80's, the Legion, or even the fucking NCR, and the Sorrows won't be able to run from them; all that 'protection' won't mean shit then. You aren't helping them this way, you're just putting off the inevitable because you think it'll make up for your own mistakes'."

That seemed to get a reaction from Danny, who recoiled slightly, eyes widening.

"I'm hardly the smartest man alive, but I know that what you do matters a whole lot more than the why. All the good intentions don't mean shit if you hurt the people you're trying to help in the end."

Taylor blinked, looking back at her father. He was slumped in his chair, staring down at the bottle in his hand that was barely a quarter empty.

"Maybe… Maybe you're right." He finally answered. "Maybe I am trying to make up for… abandoning my job as a father for the last few years. But I still don't think one man is going to be better at teaching my daughter to protect herself than an entire god-damn government agency."

"But the Wards don't do anything!" Taylor finally snapped, drawing both Six and her Father's attention.

"...They don't ever... actually fight villains." She added, almost meekly. "I did do the research online, Dad, about the Wards; so many of them complained that they only ever seemed to do photo-ops and public events, and never actually got to stop any kind of crime."

With a sigh, Taylor let her hands fall to her sides.

"Dad, I have powers. Powers that can actually help people! I don't want to just… Stand around and waste them."

"...Oh Taylor..." Her father sighed. "I get it, and I want you to be happy, but… I don't know. I can't- I can't lose you too."

Sighing, and taking a hearty gulp from his bottle, her father winced as the alcohol went down.

"...'ve never wished Annette were still here more than I do now," He mourned, "She'd… she'd know what to say... What to do…"

He trailed off, shaking his head despondently. Already Taylor could feel the atmosphere growing intolerably heavy.

"Tell me about her."

Six's voice was uncharacteristically somber. Both members of the Hebert family turned to face him, surprised.

"I'm guessing there's a reason I've never met the missus of the house?"

Danny let out a long, drawn out sigh, visibly bracing himself to pick at old, scabbed over wounds.

"Yeah. My wife, Annette. Taylor's mother. She… passed away a few years ago, in a car crash. We never really came back from that, but I guess I took it harder than Taylor did."

"'M sorry to hear that," Six nodded, "It's pretty clear she meant a lot to you both."

"More than just a lot," Taylor's father huffed, "She was… Everything I wasn't, it felt like. Smart, willful… Never took no for an answer, and she always knew what to do even when I didn't."

"So that's where the kid gets it from."

Taylor watched as her father looked up from the bottle in his lap, with red-rimmed eyes and a rueful smirk.

"Heh, I suppose so."

He was quiet for a moment, evidently rolling some sort of idea around in his head.

"Did I ever tell you, Taylor, about how she ended up leaving Lustrum's group?"

Taylor blinked, suddenly included in the conversation once more.

"I don't think so… You mentioned she used to be with them before you two met, I think?"

"And a little while after we started dating." He chuckled. "It was our third or fourth date; Annette and I ran into some of her friends from the group. This was about when they were really starting to radicalize; maybe a couple months before Lustrum herself got birdcaged. They gave her shi- uh, crap, about how she was a 'traitor to their cause' and all that for dating me, because I was a guy. I was about ready to just walk away there; I didn't want her going through all that from her friends because of me, but your mother stopped me."

Laughing a bit more openly, Taylor's took yet another swig of his drink.

"She told me to 'wait right here, would you Danny?' all nice and polite, and then strutted right up to the ringleader… Eileen, I think her name was. The woman probably had about fifty pounds on Annette, and your mother just… Hauls off and slugs the woman, right in the nose. Probably broke it, too, from what I heard. Next thing I know, Annette's sprinting in the other direction, dragging me along as the rest of the group's trying to figure out what the hell just happened!"

Even Taylor couldn't help chuckling at the thought, while her father let out a laugh.

"After we lost them, she told me that there was no one who could tell her what to do, no matter what was between their legs."

Her father lapsed back into silence after that, but... it wasn't quite as oppressive as it had been. Taylor turned to Six, only to realize he was already staring at her. Then he nodded in her father's direction. It took a second for Taylor to realize what he meant, and another couple as she scrambled to think of something else to ask him about.

"...Hey, Dad? Do you remember the first time I went away to camp, back when I was little?"

He stared off into space for a moment, confused, before suddenly breaking out into a smirk, chuckling.

"I do. You were acting like we were never going to see each other again, even though you were the one who wanted to go in the first place. If it weren't for your mother, I might not've even gotten you to the camp."

The rest of the night after that was filled by old stories as the three of them talked until past midnight. Some were funny, some were bittersweet, and even Six contributed a few stories of life in the Mojave, though his sense of humour tended towards the darker, with stories like his visit to 'Black Mountain'. The Elder Hebert's stories definitely made up the majority, and Taylor couldn't bring herself to complain.

This was the first time in years that Dad had talked so openly about Mom, at least since the funeral. It felt like there had been a pressure that had built up in the gap between them over the years, and only now was it finally being released.

It was cathartic, plain and simple. Probably at least as much for Taylor as it was for her father. And it wasn't until Six was helping her passed out father up the stairs and into his own bed that she suspected that perhaps that had been the plan.

"Hey, Six?"

The Courier looked up from his spot halfway up the stairs with a curious hum, one Daniel Hebert hanging over his shoulder and snoring away. Taylor wanted to say so many things; to ask him so many questions, but…

"Thanks... For tonight. And everything else, too."

Six merely let out a quiet chuckle.

"Told ya', kid. I've got your back. I don't mean that lightly."

"I know," She said, "But still. Thanks."

"Anytime."

Taylor watched from her doorway as Six guided her father into his own bedroom, and then staggered back out a couple minutes later.

"Mh… goodnight, Six." She yawned.

"G'night, Kid."

She watched, silently, as the waster maneuvered his way back down the stairs, turning out any lights before audibly flopping onto the couch. Only once the snores of both men reached her ears did she silently close the door and curl up in bed, lighter than she'd felt in a long time.

-o0o-

...Five months. It's been five months since my last update, and God-damn what a five months it's been, huh? Pretty sure I spent a solid month of it just running on autopilot, struggling to keep my head above water for classes. On that note I'm sick and tired of online classes too. Life has been, in short, A nonstop cavalcade of bullshit-upon-bullshit, like a bullshit sandwich with two slices of bullshit for bread.

But I digress. This basically marks the end of this 'arc', thank god. It's only been, what, a solid year at least,since I wrote the 'first chapter' of this 'arc', way back in November 2019? Christ. Maybe I should try writing an actual outline for this story, so that future me can remember what past me was planning.

As an additional note, I'm only just now realizing as I write this Author's note that multiple people have sent me messages asking about my status. I appreciate the concern folks, and sorry I didn't respond, but apparently I don't get email alerts from PM's, so I had no damn idea they were there. I honestly mostly just use this site nowadays in a backup/repository role. If you ever want to get in touch with me, I tend to lurk around the SpaceBattles Forums, so that's the best place to send me a message. I ain't dead yet, though.

Anyway… Enjoy.