I finished with enough time left over to grab and eat a breakfast bar.  Coil’s people were punctual, rapping on the metal shutter at six forty-five.

Oh good, she got around to eating something.

Alright.  This was it.  I pulled on my mask.

Time to claim my territory.

Hell yes.

So then we’re not doing more decorating with these guys… Are we going out to put out signs or something, like the ones I joked about Bitch putting out to claim her territory and enforce good treatment of dogs?

If it was about fighting the Merchants, Skitter would’ve asked for gunmen, I think, not “anyone up for some exercise”. I don’t think that necessarily means she won’t run into them, though.

I checked the kitchen clock as I entered from the cellar.  I had thirty minutes.  I took the time to shower and don my costume – my sleeve was still crusty and stained yellow-white where it had come in contact with the foam, but at least it wasn’t sticky anymore.

Still not eating breakfast, huh?

I guess maybe that can wait until after the Coil guys’ visit.

My mask wasn’t wearable with the contacts.  I’d taken lenses out of an old pair of glasses and set them into the construction of my mask.

Called it!

I debated it for a few moments, then I decided to use the remaining time to fix it.  With my knife’s point, I set about undoing that particular piece of work, prying the lenses out.

I guess that’s necessary, as long as the Fellowship is around. I suppose the mask lenses weren’t any safer than the regular glasses anyway.

This does leave Taylor’s eyes visible, if I’m not mistaken, but at least we don’t get someone manipulating glass into blinding her permanently (assuming no Panacenanigans).

“Thank you,” he said, squinting slightly at me.  He raised a hand in an awkward half-wave, and I returned it with one of my own.  As if by mutual agreement, we turned to leave at the same time, both of us going in separate directions.

Goodbye, Danny.

He hurried to where he was needed, and I turned to run back to my place.  My lair.  I hadn’t run nearly as far as I’d wanted, but I wasn’t up to continuing.

It was very good to see you.

I moved my hand to adjust my glasses, and wound up waving at my face.  I was wearing my lenses.

Having tried lenses or not, this is relatable.

I wonder what Danny thought about the difference in Taylor’s appearance, not least of all the lenses instead of glasses.

Especially considering he would probably be the first to know about how much lenses didn’t work out for Taylor in the past.

Wait a minute, I don’t think we found out why Taylor was using the lenses earlier in the chapter.

“Dad!” I called out.  He stopped.  “Um.  I’d heard the Slaughterhouse Nine were around.  Be careful, warn others.”  I pointed at my face.

…oh. Does one of their powers have to do with glass?

His eyes widened.  I could see the thought process, the realization.  He took off his glasses and hung them from his shirt’s front pocket.  I wasn’t positive that was much better.

Evidently it’s dangerous to have them near, at least.

“I was going to stop by the house, see if it was in okay shape,” I lied again.  Was this the extent of my interactions with my dad?  Always lies?  “Keeping up with my running.”

I was right, the moment Danny asked about Taylor’s life, the honesty went out the window.

“I see.  Look, I have to go, but I do want to talk again, soon.  Lunch, maybe?”

Yes, please.

It’d probably end up being another awkward lie-fest for Taylor, though.

“Maybe,” I offered.  He offered me a sad smile, then turned to go.

I am so glad to see them reconnect a bit like this, even if Taylor can’t quite allow a full reconnection due to her secret.

My dad ran his fingers through his hair, “I need to go handle this.  Can I… How do I contact you?”

Yes, please start keeping in touch. Please.

“I’ll leave you a message on your answering machine,” I said, “With my cell phone number, and my email in case I’m in an area where cell service is down.”

Sounds good.

“Email?” he asked.  “Where are you that you have access to a computer?”

A fancy new villain lair with electricity and plumbing and cool terrariums.

A few blocks from here.

“Just outside the city limits,” I lied, “Not far from the Market.”

Not the worst of lies.

“So you’re out of the way of any trouble,” My dad noted, with a touch of relief.

Maybe even one of the better lies. This man needs fewer reasons to be worried, even if his reasons not to be worried are untrue.

There was a noise as someone began prying one of the truck doors open, and my dad turned his head, frowning.  “But what are you doing here this morning?”

Ah, right, I suppose it’s a bit of a long way to run.

“Well,” he said, so quiet I could barely hear him, “You can always come home.  Any time, any reason.”

Poor man.

“Okay,” I told him.

What do you put in that word right now, Taylor? Do you intend to visit? Are you just saying it to make him think you might?

“What are you doing with yourself these days?”

Welp. Here goes the honesty.

Unless Taylor decides that he does deserve to know at this point.

I honestly think he does. He’s not gonna like it, but he deserves to know. This poor man has been wrecked by uncertainty since long before the story began. It’s about time to put some of that uncertainty to rest.

I struggled to find an answer, and was saved by the bell.  One of the men by the wreck shouted, “Danny!” and my dad turned.

Lucky break, Taylor. Lucky break.

“I miss you too.”

I’m so glad Taylor is being honest about this. Danny doesn’t deserve any less. She might have some trouble explaining why she’s not coming home, though.

Speaking of which, I wonder how much Danny has pieced together. What he thinks might be the reason she left in the first place, what she was hiding in 6.9 that she was so unwilling to tell him that she straight up fled and didn’t come back.

I wonder how much he knows about the villain named Skitter, whether he’s seen footage of the Undersiders and thought that one of them looked awfully familiar, whether he’s kept questioning whether there was actually something there or he was just imagining things because he missed Taylor…

“I… I don’t know how to ask.  I’m afraid to ask you to come home, because I’m not sure I can stand to hear you tell me you won’t.”

“Actually, dad, I’ve got this fancy new villain lair now with electricity and plumbing and cool terrariums, how about you come home to me instead?”

“I’ll take that… wait, villain lair?”

He paused, for a long moment.  Waiting for me to jump at the opportunity.  I stayed silent and hated myself for it.

I guess that’s one of the only ways to really say it without saying it. Taylor doesn’t want to say something Danny “can’t stand to hear” (which is somewhat guilt-trippy, but I think he was just going for honesty, not guilt-tripping her on purpose), but she doesn’t see actually going home with him as a viable option, due to the whole Coil situation, not to mentioned the continued masquerade.

Surprise etched his face, “You’re running during this…?!”

He made a visible effort to close his mouth.

Pfft. Yeah, things kinda went to shit around here.

It made me feel uneasy.  What thought process or concern was keeping my dad from opening his mouth about my running?  He’d been worried about it when the streets were relatively safe.  Was he that spooked at the idea of scaring me off again?

I really can’t blame him for being worried about scaring Taylor off at this point. Seriously.

He looked at the man who was standing near him, murmured something.  The man walked over to join the others in observing the damage around the damaged vehicles.

Time for some privacy, I see.

We were left more or less alone.

“You got my messages?”  I asked.

Oh, she’s sent messages… Did we hear about that in 8.8?

Either way, it’s a good thing. Assuming the messages were after Leviathan, I’m glad Taylor spared Danny from having to wonder whether the Endbringer had gotten her.

“I’ve listened to that answering machine so many times-” he stopped.  He was a good distance away, but I could see the lines in his forehead, “I miss you.”

There’s a decent chance this chapter might make me cry. My eyes are already getting wet with this paragraph.