“There were people in danger.  My people.  I thought a forty-five percent chance of survival was worth the risk.”

Honestly, it didn’t seem like she considered the risk much at all.

He tapped his finger against the forehead of his helmet.  I could almost make out the noise through the thin emanation of his power.  “Could you ask your employee to give us some privacy?”

Grue really doesn’t like what he’s hearing, it seems. Makes sense – Taylor’s heroic side is showing again.

“I can go for a walk,” Sierra said.

“Thank you,” I told her, “I’ll signal you with my power when we’re done.”

The range of Taylor’s power is quite practical.

My heart was speeding up just a bit as we waited for her to leave.  I distracted myself by limping over to the propane stove that was positioned on the countertop and checking the rice.  There were containers and boxes of food arranged on the counter that Sierra had apparently checked and deemed edible.  Nothing especially good for breakfast.

Of course, because we can’t have the morning improved by good breakfast.

As the door closed behind Sierra, I hugged my arms against my body and said, “Please don’t tell me you asked her to leave because you have bad news about Lisa or my dad.”

…ahh. No wonder her heart was speeding up.

“Employee?”  I suggested.

“Your employee just informed me that you fought Mannequin last night?”

Oh, never mind, I guess.

“Yeah.”

“Are you suicidal!?”

This is not an unreasonable response, regardless of how much Taylor has proven her skill. Mannequin is quite dangerous and Grue may be just as aware of Mannequin’s power being well suited to keeping bugs out as Taylor was.

“He’s not that strong,” I said, defensively.  “I mean, scary as fuck, he’s strong, but he was beatable.”

“Do you not recall the very specific numbers we got on our chances against these guys?  Fifty-five percent chance we die if we fight them!”

Oh yeah!

Then again, who knows what sort of scenarios were counted in that? Do 1-on-1s count, or did Dinah assume all-on-all? We just don’t know.

Coil isn’t always careful enough with his wording when asking for the numbers, as highlighted when Dinah was first introduced. Minor differences in the terms and points where he’s not specific enough can make a major difference in the numbers.

The second my bugs settled on the intruder and felt that familiar emanation of outward pressure, like a faint breeze, I calmed down.

That would be Grue. Hi!

I felt a mite embarrassed as I made my way downstairs to greet Grue.

It’s okay, he was probably expecting it.

“Christ, T- Skitter!” he exclaimed, the second he saw me.

…right. “Every bug” is probably a bit much.

“What?”

“Your, um-” he gestured at Sierra shaking his hand, agitated.

Drone. If it were up to me, anyway.

So what did Sierra do, when– oh! That’s not it. Taylor seems to have forgotten she’s out of costume.

Whoops!

“Skitter!  You’ve got company!”

Did Regent come with Charlotte, or is this someone else?

Most importantly, are they friendly?

I think the best scenario would be that it’s Tattletale, already recovered enough to be up and running.

Every bug I had in the cabinets and corners of the room streamed forth to check the intruder, my thoughts immediately shifting into a combat mode.  What escape routes did I have?  Could I help Sierra if there was trouble?  What tools and weapons did I have on hand?

It’s a bit paranoid, but it’s entirely justified right now. For the most part, Sierra and Charlotte wouldn’t know who is or isn’t friendly, with the exception of Grue, Lisa (in Charlotte’s case), the Coildiers (and as far as I’ve gathered, the Coildiers aren’t exactly uniformed) and the more obvious Slaughterhouse members like Mannequin, Shatterbird and Crawler. And none of the last three would be the type to stop politely at the entryway.

The uncertainties of the day, the worries about Lisa and Dad, having my routine disrupted and the spoiling of my breakfast and morning shower had put me in a bad mood.

Yeah, bit of a shitty morning after, this.

It would have been nice to say that it made me feel better, getting things in order again, and it did, but it wasn’t a cure-all nor was it a perfect distraction.  There was no way I could relax with the things I had hanging over my head.

At least it’s a little help?

But yeah… guilt time?

Doing this felt like I wasn’t doing something to help Dinah.

Boom, there we go.

It’s tomorrow, let’s go!