I watched him leave with my bugs. Felt him get three, four, then five blocks away with my power, before he was out of my range. The second he was gone, all the strength went out of my legs. I collapsed onto my knees in the center of the room.
…I was just wrong about who was about to collapse one last time. :p
I hurt all over. If Mannequin hadn’t broken something in my ribs or collarbone, he’d fractured something. But pain was only part of it. Physically, I was exhausted. Emotionally? Doubly so.
Yeeah. You just fought one of the most dangerous people in the United States.
And won.
Charlotte appeared at my side and offered me a hand.
Oh, hey!
The murmurs of conversation started to sound around me. I tuned it out. I couldn’t take the criticism, and I didn’t deserve any praise. How many people had been hurt while I fought Mannequin? How many people had died because I hadn’t been on the alert?
Aaaand we’re back to guilt.
The answer, Taylor, is “many fewer than would’ve died if you hadn’t done all of this”.
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