Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jackie had thought she'd won.

The thing collapsed in a heap of rock and lava, spilling the blazing liquid across the cracked parking lot where most of their fight had taken place. It buzzed and sputtered something ugly, before dying down, and Jackie reveled in the cooled crackling of exposed magma.

She hovered down to the ground, landing with a soft thumb as her beetle wings folded back into the scarab. Panting large gasps of air, the plasma cannons in her hands pleated back into the armor, and she caught her breath, twisting her head around to see if anyone was nearby.

The scarab disliked her inaction. Its words echoed in her head.

Unsafe to leave it intact. Recommend complete evisceration.

"I'm not gonna do that. What if that's a person?" Jackie muttered, blinking with an owlish stare.

Irrelevant.

"No, not irrelevant. We've talked about this," Jackie reprimanded, moving closer to the mountain of rock, what was left of the foe she'd just spent the past twenty minutes fighting. It was a good deal over her head, its features having collapsed in on themselves, leaving nothing but barely exposed glowing red and blackened rock in the wake of its defeat.

Jackie rested her armored hand on the rock, feeling the warmth it radiated and the thrumming beneath it. She thought about how to proceed, ignoring the scarab in her ear. She hadn't gotten very far when she heard her phone ring.

(In hindsight, she should've asked the scarab to forward the call to her HUD. Or had done it herself.)

She folded her armor back into the scarab, fumbled with her phone, and clicked answer on the call from Shauna.

"Hey Shipman, what's got you up this late?" Jackie said with a smile, stretching her arm overhead, barely avoiding a groan at the bruises she felt. Being tossed into the pavement, trees, and brick buildings tended to make you feel a bit sore.

Shauna's voice, a little strained in its exhaustion, crackled over the phone, "Wondering if you still want my mom to pick you up for practice? Since you said you're staying the night at Jeff's."

Right. She was supposed to be heading to her boyfriend's. Was supposed to have been there at least thirty minutes ago.

But then she had seen a tiny kid struggling with his skateboard, and what was she supposed to have done, not helped? Then she had spotted someone struggling to get late night groceries up the stairs to their apartment, and Jackie couldn't have just flown by that. Those were the best parts of being Blue Beetle.

By that point, when she had spotted the magma monster terrorizing the parking lot of a Walmart, she had given up on making it to Jeff's all together. Wasn't that big of a loss. Really, she had planned on calling Shauna for a night in, anyway. Planned on quoting Jeff's stupid habits, or his annoyingly disastrous room, or his pressuring nature.

But now, she was tired. Exhausted. And didn't have any way to explain to Shauna why her body felt like it got thrown against a wall and dropped into a pile of cinder blocks.

So, she said, "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll get a ride. See you tomorrow?"

Shauna paused, then said, "See you tomorrow, Jax."

Shauna hung up, and Jackie sighed something fond, flicking through her contacts to send Jeff a vaguely apologetic text about not making it tonight.

Just after clicking send, the pile of rubble next to her exploded in an amalgamation of fire and lava, sending chunks of glowing rocks flying in every direction, running through everything it came in contact with, leaving nothing but a burning hole in its wake.

And Jackie had been right next to it. Point blank.

The roaring inferno rushed into her side with an urgency, sparking along her body and burning her clothes. Pieces of stone and igneous rock spiked into her unprotected body, imbedding themselves in her skin, burning away a few pieces of flesh with the velocity they impacted her with. The resulting flush of energy sent her flying into the air, and a larger sized stone caught her halfway, hitting her directly in the chest, making a vague crunching noise.

The sound of bones breaking.

The scarab reacted quicker than she ever could. Just after the crunch of fractured bones, her armor sprung to life, covering her damaged body as the impact of the stone made her crash to the ground.

Her breathing stuttered, inhaling fire and smoke. It took her several seconds to catch up to her surroundings, to hear the scarab reciting her vitals in her head.

Numerous first- and second-degree burns. Seven embedded shards of obsidian. Eight embedded fragments of basalt. Four broken ribs. You shouldn't have removed our armor, that was a foolish plan.

Jackie tried to cough out the smoke in her lungs, it coming out as more of a wheeze. "Thanks for the update-"

She shoved the stone off of her chest, groaning with the effort and the torturous spikes of pain it sent up her chest, through her lungs, and across her heart and liver.

It fucking sucked.

Everything hurt. Everything ached and screamed and retaliated at each move she made. The scarab continued to give unhelpful advice, Jackie moaned in pain on the ground for an extended minute, and really, she thought about how much this made her mood sour.

Recommend moving. Cannot assist in repairing this vessel if the blood is not flowing at a faster rate.

"'This vessel', Jesus, tell me how you really feel," Jackie groaned, still collapsed in the crater of her own making, hands and feet splayed across the concrete like a puppet with cut strings.

Update. Cannot remove shards and fragments of igneous rock without assistance. 

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Jackie muttered sarcastically before coughing, craning her head and trying to lift her chest into a sitting position.  It burned; she almost bit her tongue to avoid screaming in the pain it caused. She barely made it to an upright stance, and when she extended her beetle wings, it added extra pressure to the cracks of her ribs.

The scarab was uncharacteristically quiet while she psyched herself up to start flying. She knew it would hurt, hurt more than anything she'd ever experienced before. But it was her only choice. She needed to make it home and try to pick the rocks out of her flesh and wrap her wounds, or she wasn't recovering from this. And she certainly wasn't managing that in a crater, made in the parking lot of a Walmart.

She counted backwards from ten, anticipating the pain and tensing for it.

But when the thruster of the scarab ignited and she went soaring, she screamed at the excruciating pain anyway.

It blazed and smoldered, sent never-ending stabs of agony into the nerves of her limbs, the muscle of her abs, and the organs in her chest.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to collapse and give up. She wanted the pain to stop. But she kept flying anyway.

At some point, she questioned if that was the scarab's doing.

She felt her broken ribs shift when she even slightly adjusted her flight path, took note of the burning in her skin, the pounding in her skull.

She got her answer when she shifted her chest in a hairbrained turn, twisting in an unnatural, crooked way, closer to her house but nowhere near landing distance. The torment was all encompassing, occupying each thought in an overpowering, unavoidable way. When her focus waned, and her thruster stuttered, she almost wished the scarab would take control. Almost.

In one last whimper of pain, her wings folded in, her thruster died, and she went crashing to the ground. With her armor on, the impact to her own body was reduced, but that didn't stop her from yelling at the barbed pain that fluttered across her aching ribs and flesh.

Numbly, she noticed that she formed another crater in a different parking lot. Lovely.

She tried to focus on breathing, as stuttered and broken as her gasps of air were. Tried to isolate the pain etched in every crevice of her body, so she could consider having enough drive for survival to get off the ground again.

Passing out sounded really nice right about then. Jackie entertained the thought, closing her eyes for a moment. But the surprised voice that echoed beside her pain, one she recognized vividly, prevented her from getting that well deserved shut eye.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

Jackie craned her head slightly to the left, spotting one Natalie Scatorccio, cigarette in hand, standing a few feet from the edge of her small divot in the asphalt.

Jackie knew Nat wouldn't be able to recognize her, not with the full set of blue armor covering every inch of her body. But she still felt panic grip her soul at Nat's appearance.

She has seen too much. Eliminate her.

"Peachy," Jackie muttered, squinting her eyes to see what was behind Nat. A 24/7 convenience store, complete with neon lights and three-dollar hot dogs.

"Are you dying? In the parking lot of a 7/11?" Nat asked, snuffing out her cigarette with the heel of her boot.

Jackie groaned, shifting her ribs and almost whimpering at the feeling, "You know, if I got to pick, it wouldn't have been my first option."

"What even happened?" Nat questioned. She looked exasperated, like a tired mother of three. (Had Jackie been more in tune with her surroundings, and less focused on her own agony, she would've seen the weird look that crossed Nat's eyes.)

"Nothing I can't handle. I'm fine, you can go back to- to whatever it was you were doing," Jackie breathed out, trying to control her voice and the air in her lungs to a manageable degree.

"Get off the ground, Jackie."

Jackie's heart stopped.

"What- who's Jackie?"

"If you think I can't recognize the annoyingly preppy voice of the most vocal on our soccer team, you're dumber than I thought," Nat responded with a sigh.

Jackie frowned, disheartened, even if Nat couldn't see it behind her mask. She stored the feeling away for later. "Duly noted."

"Now what the fuck happened, Taylor?"

Jackie suppressed another whimper at a concealed attempt to get up, failing spectacularly. 

This Natalie Scatorccio is a liability. Ninety-five percent probability of betrayal. Recommend utilization of the plasma cannon.

"There was a rock monster in the Walmart parking lot. It exploded," Jackie mumbled, swallowing a cough that would've done nothing but rattle her bones. "I was trying to fly home. I missed."

Nat's foot tapped against the concrete a few times, and they lingered in a silence, until Nat glared at her still unmoving form. Jackie was still collapsed in her divot, still splayed in the best position she could manage, still barely shifting.

"Are you not getting up because you're stubborn, or because you can't?"

"I can get up; I'm just choosing to catch my breath-"

"Jackie."

Jackie stuttered, "I swear it's not as bad as it sounds, I can move."

A pause.

Jackie whispered, "Everything is just screaming and on fire while I do it-"

Nat scoffed, running a hand down the side of her face. "Fucking- alright, I don't see anything wrong with you, so what's broken?"

Jackie shifted her arm, dragging it along the side of the pavement and starting to heave herself into a sitting position. That was when Nat dropped into the divot, holding Jackie at her other side. Jackie slung her arm across Nat's shoulders, suppressing a groan.

Everything turned from that dull blaze to a screaming inferno in an instant.

"The armor- it covers all of it. From what the scarab says- I think it'll look bad. It sounds bad," Jackie affirmed, letting a small whimper pass her lips when Nat's hand accidently put pressure on her side. Nat whispered rushed apologies.

"The scarab?"

"The thing on my back. It's an AI- something advanced, I'm not sure. It won't tell me," Jackie conceited, and when she worked in tandem with Nat to heave herself to a stand, she cried a pitiful yelp as her ribs shifted, and skin burned.

It was almost comical. Jackie was in a full suit of armor, covered head to toe in advanced metal, in a colorful clash of black, grey, and blue, making her seem like an unstoppable powerhouse of pure will. Her eyes were narrow slits of inverted irises, yellow and black, glowing the night. The scarab's pincers extended vertically from her back, pieces of protruding blue metal accented her body, adding layers of depth to the legs of the scarab that clung to her sides. Her shins were guarded in blue, making her seem to be wearing boots of steel.

She looked like she could kill a man.

And she was leaning a decent amount of her weight on a struggling Nat, who was spewing curses at the mass of Jackie's armor.

"Christ, how much do you fucking weigh? Do you need to lean all of it on me?" Nat cursed. Dimly, Jackie noticed they were taking a path from the convenience store that was certainly not the direction of her own house.

Jackie was gasping in pain at every small shift. She could feel Nat getting gentler and gentler. "Sorry, did the armor look light?"

"No, but you usually do."

"Sorry I'm not a feather when I'm wearing a full bodysuit made of steel," Jackie snorted, then coughed, a fit of wheezes that ended in a pathetic whimper of pain. She felt Nat squeeze her shoulder, and Jackie softened every muscle in her body. "Where are we going?"

"My place. Yours is basically on the other side of town, and you're barely walking," Nat explained with a hesitant air.

And Jackie supposed that made sense. And she tried to summon the courage to say thank you, or something resembling it, but swallowed her own words.

Nat and she were never close. Not in elementary school, not in middle school, when they actually started interacting on the soccer team. Not now. Jackie hasn't even been to Nat's trailer.

They shared occasional blunts outside shitty house parties. They had to pair up during practice, as the strikers of the team. They had sharp banter marked in some thinly veiled sense of respect.

Nat had always been herself. Unapologetically, brazen and brash in the most admirable way. Jackie had always been in a mix of jealousy and awe at the confidence Nat radiated. Nat had her circle, Jackie had hers, and they only intersected during soccer and poor choices. Still, the image of Nat finding her annoying and stupid irked at her heart, pressed and pulled at an unsteady rhythm. Like if she knew that to be the truth, if she found out that's what Nat thought every time Jackie called her name across the pitch, Jackie would collapse.

The walk was surprisingly short, and when they made it to the steps of the trailer, Nat slowly untangled herself from Jackie's side to open the door. She pushed it open and returned to Jackie's side a second later. They ascended slowly, and Nat directed them to the right, to what Jackie assumed was her room.

The living room was unkempt. Bottles and take out boxes, crumpled shirts and dirty plates haphazardly scored around the coffee table.

"Got something you want to say?"

Nat must've seen her head tilt.

Jackie stuttered, accented with a slight gasp, a mix of guilt and genuine clarification, "No- no, just looking."

To her credit, Nat visibly softened, like an apology in of itself for the accusation. They stumbled into Nat's room, and Nat carefully helped Jackie, still in the full Blue Beetle get up, onto her bed.

And Jackie swallowed harshly, because if she wanted Nat's help, she had to take off her armor. She had to show Nat how surely beat up and bloody she looked, burnt and scarred from that explosion. And Jackie was confident it looked worse than it was, and that she'd be fine by Monday with the scarab's healing.

(For some reason, the idea of not letting Nat help her never crossed her mind. She never once considered attempting to run back out that door.)

Nat was looking at her expectantly, an eyebrow raised while she stood above her like an angel sent for Jackie alone. Jackie took a steady breath before saying, "It's going to look worse than it is. The scarab can heal most of it, I just need- need the shards out of my skin."

Jackie had a feeling she could've worded that better, given the way Nat's face crumpled, tilted, and looked marginally more worried all at the same time. 

Nat said nothing. Jackie had nothing else to say. So, she let her armor fold back into her scarab.

Immediately, she could feel the burns across her skin prickle and sizzle, released from their containment and interacting with the air. She panted to avoid sounding pathetic in her pain. She heard Nat inhale sharply from in front of her, letting her hand hover over Jackie's shoulder like she was afraid Jackie would shatter if she touched her.

Jackie didn't move her head too much, given the burns she felt on her neck and cheek. Based on the way Nat was looking at her, though, Jackie could only guess what she looked like.

"Jesus, Jackie..." Nat whispered, flittering her eyes across Jackie's hunched over form, before snapping back and leaving the room. She didn't go far, based on the clanging of bottles Jackie could hear from the next room over. She guessed it was her bathroom.

While she waited in agony, Jackie let herself look around Nat's room.

It smelled like pine, mint, and smoke. A mix of scents Jackie wasn't surprised about, given Nat's smoking habit, the mint shampoo she uses in the locker room, and her tendency to skip class. (Rarely did she skip practice, though. Jackie always wondered why.)

The walls were littered in posters, numerous bands Jackie's sure she's heard of before in passing. The Pixies, Nirvana, The Smashing Pumpkins, Joy Division, The Strokes, The Killers, the Kaiser Chiefs, and a couple others Jackie didn't recognize. A shelf rested against the wall, littered in makeup products, with a single Zippo lighter resting near the edge. The top had a couple soccer trophies, ones that Jackie had resting on her shelf, too.

The reminder of their similarities made her smile.

Nat's end table had a used ashtray, a few unlight cigarettes, a carton of Marlboros, and a framed photo. It was the Yellowjackets, from the start of this season, when Nat, Shauna, Van, and Lottie had made varsity. Jackie worked her ass off to make varsity her freshman year. She had been one of two last year, the other being Tai.

The floor had a few discarded shirts and a pair of jeans, but really, the room itself was clean. Messy in the way Jackie was expecting, where the shelves were cluttered with cassettes and the wallpaper was barely visible.

Nat walked back in then, arms containing bandages, some kind of ointment, large tweezers, rags, and scissors. She looked focused. It reminded Jackie of how she looked when they were playing soccer.

She didn't really ask for permission to start trying to help. Nat sat down about a foot away from her on the bed, scissors primed in her hand as she cut around Jackie's short sleeve button-up she had worn to school that day. Carefully maneuvering around the burns and fragments of stone compounded in her flesh, where it tore into her shirt and burned it to her skin.

Jackie found herself glad she chose a skirt that day. None of the igneous rock managed to land on her skirt, so Nat had no pants to cut away.

They worked in silence to get the rest of Jackie's shirt off, left in her lacy bra on Natalie Scatorccio's bed while Nat spread rubbing alcohol on the tweezers she had grabbed.

Jackie had fifteen shards and fragments of rock stuck in her flesh. Fifteen. Nat would have to pull fifteen pieces of stone out of burned skin and muscle.

Nat handed her a rag, and said, in the softest voice Jackie's ever heard her use, "I don't want you biting through your tongue. This is going to suck."

Jackie nodded, shoved the rag into her mouth, and gave Nat a thumbs up.

The moment Nat tugged on the first fragment, Jackie cried into the rag with reckless abandon. It tugged at flesh, tore at muscle, burned her nerve endings with a feeling so torturous, so incredibly demented, Jackie was sure she was going to pass out.

When Nat got the first piece out, she met the gushing blood of Jackie's porous wound with another rag, laced in isopropyl alcohol, holding it there steady. That, arguably, hurt even more than the pulling and tearing, and Jackie cried out once more. Felt tears collect at her waterline as she slammed her eyes shut. When the bleeding let up the smallest amount, Nat folded in the skin she had avoided tearing off and covered it with an ungodly amount of butterfly tape.

Healthcare at its finest.

She spread a small bit of burn ointment around the wound, where the flesh was singed from the fire, then wrapped it in bandages, sealed with medical tape.

That was just the first piece, Jackie reminded herself.

What followed could only be described as sadistic torture. It was miraculous Jackie didn't pass out once, given that Nat had to go back and retrieve more rags and bandages more than once. That meant Jackie had been holding her most recent reopened wounds closed with weak pressure.

But eventually, after crying for close to an hour and a half while Nat tore stone from her body and wrapped her in gauze and tape, they were done. Jackie was wrapped and covered in burn ointment, laying down and barely moving on account of her broken ribs. (Broken ribs that Nat was pissed to only hear about after their twisted game of operation.) Nat's bed was surprisingly soft, all things considered.

Nat was leaning against the bed frame, breathing slow. She looked contemplative, or at least, her body language did. Jackie only saw the back of her head. Her hair was tousled, bleach blonde and cut roughly. Jackie always thought it looked good on Nat.

The silence ate at Jackie, and so, at some point, she whispered, "Do you really think I'm annoying?"

Maybe she should've waited to ask that question. Waited until her breathing was less shallow and her throat wasn't raw from screaming and crying in pain. Because she didn't want Nat to feel guilty, or obligated, or pity. Didn't want to make her more annoyed, after she essentially performed surgery on her soccer teammate.

Nat immediately sighed at the question, shifting so that she was partially facing Jackie. "No, I- fuck, I didn't mean it like that. You're just- you're very you. Always ready, and optimistic, and in the morning when I just managed to crawl out of bed thirty minutes ago, it's annoying."

Jackie thought about shrugging, but decided she's had enough pain for the night. "I get it. Been told I'm a lot."

By her parents. By Jeff. By Tai. By Shauna. And now, by Nat.

"Yeah, you can be. But that's what makes you the kind of person you are. And never let anyone tell you that's a bad thing," Nat shrugged, twirling a ring in her hand. The words warmed a broken part of Jackie's soul. And usually, she'd make some kind of teasing remark about the vulnerability Nat was showing.

Laugh about being your true self, or about the philosophical advice of Natalie Scatorccio. Brush it off and let it remain surface deep. Know that Nat loves licorice, and that her favorite song is Hard to Explain by The Strokes, and that she's a music snob, that she rarely comes to school with a packed lunch, that her dad died brutally right in front of her, that she rarely appears in her English classes, but never let the friendship blossom.

Because of what? Her parents? Stigma? Intimidation? Circumstance? Was Jackie a coward, or had she thought she and Nat were friends, rather than friendly, until now? Until Jackie realized that she couldn't even remember the name of Nat's best friend.

Maybe the scarab was infecting her head. Maybe it was finally letting her see clearly. Or maybe being Blue Beetle bestowed upon her the confidence she's been searching for her whole life.

"Thank you, Nat."

The vulnerability seemed to strike Nat, far harder than Jackie had been expecting it to. Nat looked away, and Jackie looked at the ceiling.

Being next to Nat, at that moment, Jackie felt content. Which was incredibly strange, given the circumstance and the ache in every muscle and bone. But with Nat next to her, Jackie felt, for a fleeting moment, capable of anything.

"Look, you can stay here for the night. And if you ever, like, need a place closer to wherever you are, you can come here. My mom's rarely sober enough to care."

Then Jackie was reminded, she is still a coward to some parts of her heart. Deflection was a learned skill, after all. But her words, despite the vulnerability they lacked, rang truer than most things she's said to Nat in the past.

"Are you offering to be my man in the chair, Nat?"

"Absolutely not. I just don't want to see you get killed," Nat scoffed, and Jackie giggled.

Then moaned in pain. "Ow, don't make me laugh."

Nat only laughed with a smile in response, a smile that Jackie couldn't help but return.

Yeah, Jackie was content. She was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

The following week, Jackie made actual plans to hang out with Nat.

Shauna had wanted time to work on an essay, claiming Jackie would be far too much a distraction in the process. (Sure, Shauna was not wrong, Jackie had a tendency to pull her away from schoolwork. But it still stung.) So, their typical after school hangout on Fridays was cancelled.

But Jackie was a social thing. And she had already geared herself for socialization on Fridays. Figuring the worst Nat could say was no, she asked Nat to hang out after practice.

After that night, when Nat essentially performed surgery and Jackie stayed over at the trailer, something between them changed. A spark of energy, the fledgling of a friendship Jackie was no longer too much of a coward to feed. Lighthearted jokes on the pitch, smiles in the hallway, even actually acknowledging each other in the one class they shared, geometry.

So, after practice, a simple scrimmage that Jackie's team won, (Nat had flipped her off when Jackie scored a goal, and argued for the entirety for their five-minute break that it had been offside) Jackie walked over to Nat's locker with a bright smile and a skip in her step.

(She didn't see the weird look, an almost glare, that Shauna was giving the two of them from over her shoulder. Nat did.)

Nat was lacing her boots, and turned her head when Jackie dramatically leaned against a nearby locker.

"Ready?" Jackie asked, basically bouncing on her toes.

Nat snorted when she finished the last loop of her laces. "Certainly. I'm ready to be wowed by the great Jackie Taylor's ability to plan."

"And wowed you will be," Jackie responded, shaking her shoulders when Nat stood ready. They raced to the parking lot - re: Jackie raced; Nat walked with a small laugh - where Nat's truck sat idle. A truck she had inherited. Jackie didn't feel it was her place to ask, so she didn't.

(Jackie had offered to fly them there. Nat had said she couldn't think of something worse.)

When got into the truck, and Nat turned the key, she turned to Jackie. "So, where are we going?"

Jackie paused.

"Do you know where Rack n' Roll is?"

"Jackie, absolutely not. We are not doing that."

-

Rack n' Roll was deserted when they got there.

Wiskayok's very own bowling alley.

Nat sighed, defeated and resigned, while Jackie tore the car door open like it had personally offended her and bounced on her heels while she waited for Nat in front of the car. When Nat finally marched down from the driver's seat, Jackie smiled wide and turned to the building, trusting Nat to follow.

She was fairly confident Nat was muttering to herself behind her. Distantly, Jackie wondered what it was about. But she also didn't want to pry, didn't want to scare Nat off too soon with the traits that Shauna groaned about.

Jackie swung the front door open with purpose, and was met with the smell of grease, a light hint of must, wood, and ozone.

The image of the alley itself sparked over a dozen memories, of two young girls left to roam Wiskayok. Best friends, attached at the hip, friends since kindergarten. Of countless summers, laughter, sticky fingers and innocent smiles. She and Shauna had a lot less of those moments now. Jackie wondered whose fault that was, the occasional tension and blowout fights. But they were still best friends, and still spent countless nights together, even if Shauna dislikes bowling now, and Jackie never did grasp the enjoyment in reading at the level Shauna does.

The carpet was a mix of violet, with speckled dots of orange and blue. Shauna had always loved the pattern. Jackie had typically cringed at it. Jackie found herself appreciating the mix of vibrant color.

Before she could get too lost in thought, Nat stepped up beside her.

"Would you believe me if I told you I've never gone bowling?"

"You've never gone bowling?! 

"Yeah. And get this, news just in, the sky's blue. Jackie, do I look like the type to go bowling?" Nat sounded tired. Or rather, quite resigned. Like she had a feeling it would end up this way, and still, she had her face turned to Jackie, making eye contact like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Jackie wasn't the world's biggest coward, like Jackie didn't listen to most of her parents' whims, like Jackie was worth looking at.

(For a moment, Jackie wondered when Shauna's gaze stopped feeling like that. Like Shauna saw through the illusion Jackie always displayed. She buried the feeling quickly.)

"Anyone can look like the type to go bowling. It's bowling," Jackie countered, crossing her arms.

"The only time I've ever even touched a bowling ball was when I was throwing one at Kevyn's dick. A shame I missed," Nat mused. 

The name sparked a memory in Jackie, of finding Nat behind the bleachers. She distinctly remembered batting a cigarette out of Nat's hand, and almost flinched. "Isn't Kevyn your best friend?"

Nat shrugged, "A strong title. It'd stroke his ego far too much."

"And the bowling ball...?"

"He's an asshole. Often," Nat answered, without offering much else.

Without much else explanation in her hands, Jackie glossed over the story and grinned. She had the urge to drag Nat along, a habit she's never managed to break. Tactile to a fault. She barely got a handled on her innate response, keeping her hands to her side.

"Time to go bowling, Scatorccio," Jackie affirmed, twisting around to the front counter. Nat groaned audibly behind her, but Jackie heard her footsteps all the same.

Jackie bought them both the fee to play, and rented the bowling shoes, despite Nat's genuine affirmation she could pay for herself. Jackie almost ignored her, assuring her it was fine, given bowling was Jackie's idea. If her parents were going to throw money at her, she'd might as well use it. 

She grabbed both pairs of shoes, with a thank you to the guy at the front counter. Jackie spun on her heels, smiling wide at Nat and nodding to lane one, where they were set to play their game. Nat followed without question, something that warmed Jackie's heart in the strangest way. She gingerly handed Nat her pair (Nat didn't even question the fact that Jackie knew her shoe size, Jackie made it a point to know all things soccer regarding her team), then tossed herself in the nearest plastic chair and rushed to change out from her pristine white Reeboks to the beat-up bowling shoes.

Nat sat right next to her.

Jackie didn't think about it. She did not.

(Did that mean Jackie was succeeding at not being too much? Or was Nat humoring her? Jackie's been an asshole to Nat on so many different occasions, times when she really didn't need to be, where Jackie should've been better. Should've tried harder to be present, to make Nat an actual friend. Friendly wasn't enough.)

With the thoughts swirling in her head impossibly overwhelming, she opened her mouth and started talking.

"We just have to find the ball we want to use. The lane has a keypad to put in our names and a theme, and it'll automatically set up the pins."

Nat nodded, and Jackie could've sworn she saw her listening with rapt attention. 

Jackie chose the eleven-pound ball, Nat the thirteen.  The racks themselves were lined with faded bowling balls, demonstrating their age in the broken lines of their labeled numbers. The bowling alley has been there for as long as Jackie could remember. Ever since she was little and became entranced with the idea of hurling something down a lane to knock over pins, without getting in trouble for it. It used to be her favorite sport before she discovered soccer.

They wandered back to their lane and set up their names. Jackie went with 'Jax', and Nat, with all of the creativity in the world, chose 'Nat'.

Nat snorted when Jackie excitedly clicked on the undersea theme, then pressed play.

Jackie went first, dramatically stepping up to the line and twirling around to face Nat, ball held near her face, thumb, ring and middle fingers in the holes. "Watch and learn."

She threw the ball.

It spun slightly off center.

And knocked down two pins.

Jackie deflated and Nat barked out a laugh.

"Wow, I'm amazed. Truly, I've never seen such perfection."

"Oh, shove it, Nat. I'm just warming up," She responded with a wry smile, flopping back into the plastic chair beside Nat. She refused to think about the smile adorning Nat's face, and how right being in her presence felt.

This Natalie is still a liability. She knows too much. Recommend threatening torture to keep her silence.

A little stunned at the scarab's voice, who up until then had been mostly quiet, Jackie scoffed. Nat, who had been starting to get up to play her turn, faced Jackie with a raised eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

Great.

Either Jackie sounds like she's insane, or she confesses to regularly talking with the sentient, sadistic AI permanently fused to her spine. Lovely.

Fuck it. Nat already knows most of her secret. And that the scarab talks to her.

"The scarab. It likes to think it's funny."

I see no humor in strategic instruction, Jackie Taylor.

Nat tilted her head. Little judgement was laced in her eyes, only a curiosity. Jackie found she liked being under Nat's microscope. Nat's voice was light when she said, "Oh yeah? What jokes is it cracking?"

Should Jackie be honest? Implying the AI on her back wants Nat hurt, or worse, could only go badly, right? Like, in terms of ways to feed a growing friendship, telling said barely-even-friend that something that constantly talks in her hears wants her wounded and crying has to be pretty low on that list.

"Most of what it says is really fucked up. In its view of the world, the glass is bone dry," Jackie decided on with a guilty, apprehensive smile.

Nat stepped up to the lane, hand on her ball. "Try me."

Jackie shrugged. "Every time I take down a bad guy, it suggests 'eviscerating' them with my plasma cannon."

"A bit morbid, but I guess I see the strategy in it." Nat sent her bowling ball rolling, it immediately spinning into the gutter. Jackie heard a muttered, "Damn."

"See! Not as easy as it looks!"

"Sit and spin, asshole. That was my first time bowling," Nat responded, flipping her off.

It appears the Natalie has a far better grasp on basic combat philosophy than you.

"'Far better grasp' my ass," Jackie muttered, and Nat turned her head to Jackie after sitting back down.

"The scarab?" She asked.

"Is, unfortunately, stroking your ego.

-

Nat eventually got better at bowling. Jackie won, which was to be expected, but around the halfway mark, Nat had begun to hold her own.

Now, they were trapezing around downtown, Jackie window shopping, and Nat slowly nursing a cigarette. The smell of the smoke, to Jackie's surprise, barely bothered her, considering how she used to treat Nat's addiction.

Knocking cigarettes out of her hands, scolding her for smoking before and after practice, disapproving of her habit of skipping class to take a hit. Sure, it all came from an area of genuine care and concern, but Jackie displayed it in a horrific way. She saw that now.

And still, Nat had cared for her in one of her lowest moments. Still, Nat had healed her broken bones and bleeding flesh. Jackie still couldn't quite grasp the care she'd been given.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed but remained decently consistent along their stroll. Jackie had a slight spring in her step as they passed a small flower shop and grabbed at Nat's arm out of reflex. Tactile to a fault, she reminded herself.

"Let's go inside," She suggested, turning to Nat with a grin. It spread across her face like an avalanche; unavoidable and inevitable.

Nat stiffened, but didn't pull away. She took a long look at the flower shop, analyzed the stems lining the windows, took in the half off sign at the front. Jackie rocked on her heels for a moment, leaning back with a nervous energy.

Then Nat shrugged. "Sure."

Jackie pulled her in by the jacket still hung on her shoulders. The classic leather jacket Nat's rarely seen without. It fit her well, tugged and held at the right places and accentuated the bulk of her biceps. Nat always had an alluring style, completely opposite to Jackie's, and yet, no less appealing.

The place was quant, new. Jackie couldn't remember seeing it before. Jackie browsed through the place, an out of place Nat trailing behind, muttering something about a no smoke sign.

Dozens of buckets of flowers line the walls, with wooden dividers to allow the space to be swimming in greenery. Jackie brushed her hand along all of them, twisting the petals in her fingertips and occasionally turning around to look at Nat, explaining a type of flower.

"These are lilies. They are more of a pure flower, chastity and all that."

"Poppies are my favorite. They're so colorful."

"Hydrangeas are good for saying thank you. My mom says they make a good gift to bring a host."

"Gardenias mean a simple kind of love. They used to be Shauna's favorite, but now I think she's more into dahlias."

"Jeff's given me carnations a few times. He thought they were roses. A shame really, that they're kind of sour to me now."

She dragged Nat through the entirety of the flower shop, until they reached the other end, where someone was knee deep in the cuts of stems and bundles of ribbon. She looked thoroughly entrenched in the work, so Jackie didn't bother opening conversation. She simply turned to Nat with a smile and said, "What's your favorite?"

Nat's gaze flickered to Jackie, almost like she hadn't been expecting the question. She looked around the room, pausing for a minute. Jackie let her think.

Nat seemed indifferent as she shrugged, "Forget-me-nots."

Jackie nodded, an excited glint sparklingly in her eye. "That's a good pick! They usually mean remembrance and persisting love. Surprising, I know."

Nat snorted at the sarcasm, "You are such a loser."

Jackie gasped in indignation, "Am not!"

"You keep telling yourself that, Taylor. I'm sure you believe it."

"Nat, I'm not-"

Nat hooked her thumb over her shoulder. "And I'm not going to light a cigarette the moment we step outside."

"And I'm not going to bat it out of your hand."

"Can't spell Narcissistic without narc."

Jackie soured playfully. "Can't spell obnoxious without 'u'."

Nat quirked a brow. "Impressive, you come up with that on your own?"

"Depends. You actually manage to buy those cigarettes?"

"Did you manage to cut down your prep time to a measly three hours?"

"I was ready in two," Jackie replied with a sarcastic snarl.

"I stole them from Rich," Nat smirked.

"Shocker. Does he know that?"

"Is all that hairspray getting to your head?"

Jackie cocked her hip, like she found her way in. "Why? You want to try huffing it?"

"If it makes you this delusional, then yeah," Nat spat jokingly.

"Only if you-" Jackie started, before being interrupted.

"Hey, are you two going to buy anything?"

Jackie startled, twisting around to look at the woman, who up until just now, had been jamming to a song in her headphones, cutting the stems of flowers. The headset was around her neck, the scissors were placed on the table, and she was glancing between Jackie and Nat like they were an explosive with a lit fuse.

Nat turned to look, too. Jackie could see the action from the corner of her eye, the way Nat's hand twitched for a moment. Jackie blinked owlishly at the attendant, caught off guard. Nat gained her composure first.

"No, we were just looking. Thanks."

Then Jackie started, "Actually, yeah, I'll take a bouquet of forget-me-nots."

Nat's head snapped to Jackie. Jackie was surprised it didn't crack.

She wanted to get something for Nat. Something to start helping repay her, for last week. It didn't have to mean anything. But they were Nat's favorites, and they were already in a flower shop, so why not?

Nat remained uncharacteristically silent while Jackie talked with the attendant, collecting a handful of the colorful blue flowers.

After they walked out the door, with Jackie waving enthusiastically to the woman at the front counter, Mikayla, she flourished them to Nat.

"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous. What is the point?" Nat muttered.

"I know, you're welcome."

Nat grabbed the flowers with a lot more grace than her words had displayed.

-

The restaurant they stopped at was one of Jackie's favorites, when she dared to indulge herself outside of her mother's meal plan. Fancier, clean, a bit polished, but still light. It had an air of upscale to the atmosphere, down to the mute pink seats and granite tables.

They sat across from each other in a booth, with Jackie poised, lightly swinging her shins and Nat taking up the entirety of her side like a couch. Foot propped on the cushion, arms extended, one to the side and one on the table. She existed in the space the same way Jackie had always perceived her; unbothered by the expectations of those surrounding her.

Jackie was in awe.

The flowers were laid delicately beside Nat, carefully. Not a petal out of place.

"-and then the fucker says, 'I didn't plan on there being ket' The dude whispers it, high off his ass in front of the cops. Kev said the dumbass got thrown to the ground," Nat finished her story, taking a loud slurp of the strawberry milkshake to her right. Jackie had insisted on buying them both the shakes, so they could nurse them while waiting for their sandwiches. She had a carefree smirk on her face, comfortable in the space. A space that, based on Nat's look when they had first come in, was completely foreign to her.

Jackie didn't dwell on it.

She giggled at the end to Nat's dramatic retelling of a busted house party, saying, "The police don't tend to like me very much."

Nat snorted, "Well, fuck them. They're pigs, call them what they are."

"Nat, I can't just- they shoot at me even when it bounces off my armor and yell for me to stand down after I save a kitten from a tree. I don't know what their deal is."

Nat took another drink, mulling the taste. "They're scared of what they can't control. They want it all to be simple, and when someone disrupts their rule, they start shooting. They're afraid of what's different."

Jackie grimaced. "Still doesn't feel great."

"Fuck 'em. You don't need the approval of some pigs."

"But what if-"

"Fuck 'em," Nat interrupted.

"I can't-" Jackie started.

"Fuck. Them."

The waiter chose that moment to place their food in front of them. Jackie, a hot turkey sandwich with lettuce, mozzarella, and garlic aioli. Nat, the closest thing she could find on the menu to a smash burger; a medium burger, flame grilled with all the 'preppy fixings' and a brioche bun.

Nat wasted no time, taking a bite of the burger and humming noncommittally about it being better than she expected. Jackie didn't match her enthusiasm but still relished in the taste on her tongue.

The sun was nearing the horizon line, casting golden rays into the restaurant and the semi-crowded seats accompanying it. Jackie dragged a steak fry into her milkshake, taking a bite. She swallowed before asking, "You know how hard it is to adopt a kid?"

Nat almost choked on her burger.

She sputtered, practically threw the thing down, and coughed out, "Excuse me?"

Jackie winced. "Wait, hang on, that's not how- I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"Jackie, are you trying to adopt a kid? Are you and Shauna going to coparent something? Because-"

Jackie flushed, stuttering and red. "What?! No! That doesn't even- no! It's just, people have to jump through all these hoops to adopt a kid. They fill out dozens of forms, and have at least three meetings with CPS, or whatever."

Nat raised an eyebrow, nodding in sarcasm. "Yeah, that's usually how it works. Would you rather a tweaker adopts a baby? Or a serial killer?"

Jackie sighed something rough. "No, the hoops are good. They have all these protections, but when people have children, like, give birth, they're just given the baby out the door. There's a lot less protections. They're given complete responsibility of a uselessly dependent baby with little more than a questionnaire."

Jackie took a bite out of her sandwich, and Nat hummed. Jackie liked the sound, deeper than she expected, almost vibrating the air with how in tune she felt.

"I never really thought of that. Weird."

"I know, right?! They're just, given a baby! Just like that! They could be like, cannibals, and the hospitals just toss them out the door with a smile!" Jackie emphasized with her hands, elbows on the table.

"They probably at least run background checks or something," Nat shrugged.

Jackie raised her voice a small amount, "That's the thing, they don't! It violates some privacy law, so they can't!"

Nat paused.

"Did you spend genuine time researching this?"

Before Jackie had the chance to mutter pitiful excuses, the window opposite of them shattered.

The glass flew, embedding against booths and bystanders' skin, causing panic in its wake. The wall crumbled, dust echoed, the crumbling of brick marked in the air. Jackie saw Nat scramble back to the corner of the booth, narrowly avoiding a chunk of brick landing where her leg once was.

Jackie straightened; took stock of her surroundings.

She was fine. Nat wasn't hurt.

The restaurant was in panic. People were crouching under tables and running to the kitchen. Cries and screams built; she was barely able to hear her own thoughts over the chaos.

The wall was decimated. On the other side, echos of a sounding battle. Sounds of ozone, the ignition of oxygen.

Tile cracked. She could run to the bathrooms, trust the scarab to transform her quick enough in the confusion.

But that meant leaving Nat in the fray.

A baby cried to the right, desolate.

Someone was screaming, in the buildings on the other side of the street. Loud, demanding, demonic.

Nat was breathing heavily, and fast, in rapid pants.

All of her observations happening in the split second it took to make her decision, when she saw a hulking man, glowing green and black in swimming radiation, emerge from the clothing boutique across the restaurant. Not exceptionally large, but towering over her by at least three feet.

His arm swung, and an amalgamation of green fire and oozing plasma flung from his skin, tearing across the air in a poorly placed arc. But Jackie saw where it was going to land. Uncoordinated, misdirected; it would land on Nat.

And Jackie used precious milliseconds to consider how to protect her. There wasn't enough time to swoop in and pick her up, not when Jackie and she were still bound to the booth's table. She could try, but she wasn't willing to risk Nat like that.

She could take the hit instead. Could her armor even take a hit from that? Swimming in plasma and fire?

It didn't matter. All she knew was that Nat certainly couldn't.

Jackie tore herself away from the table, let her armor cover her body in righteous blue, pleating across her skin and clothes, engulfing her in the scarab's intervention. Twisting herself around, she let her hands plicate into her blades, pointed, spear shaped things. Longer than her arms without them, allowing her more coverage over Nat.

Her back faced the oncoming hit, and she anticipated the pain, braced for it. With her helmet on, Nat wouldn't be able to see anything other than the creasing of her eyes and the twitching of her antennae.

The scarab could've been yelling in her ears about the risks this move imposed. She didn't care. She kept her eyes on the way Nat's face morphed to horror, like she somehow knew that Jackie would make this choice, even before she did it. She saw Nat open her mouth, saw her say something, but Jackie couldn't hear it over the roar of the chaos around them.

She immediately knew when the plasma hit her back.

It stung and burned, scarred and carved; she almost buckled. She stabbed one blade in the booth's backing, the other into her old seat, using the entirety of her torso to cover Nat. It splashed and sputtered across her armor, echoed sizzles in her ears, ate through some of the steel, until the scarab voiced its discontent.

Our armor can repair this damage. The skin of your back is covered in light burns. That was foolish.

But Nat's okay, she thought. Nat didn't have a drop on her, and that's what mattered.

Swallowing hard, Jackie straightened, ignoring the pain in her back to look towards the assailant.

He wasn't even looking towards the restaurant. Now, his focus was on the boutique he had emerged from, slinging plasma and radiation into the wall and screaming at the people cowering behind counters. His voice was demonic, it reverberated across the space between them in shockwaves, warped and twisted.

" P̷̑ͤͩ̐͆ͦͦͧ̃͏͡҉҉͜҉̸̧̻̹̗̺͓̝̮̞͓L̄̆ͮ̐̔̃ͥ̍̑́͘҉̵̸̨͔̳̥̣̘͚̬̘̹̕̕͝ ̵̨̛̼̣͉̗̖̗̠̙̗̽̀́̽̍͌͑͂̚̕͘̕͜͢͝ ̴ͮ̔ͯͫͣ̓ͣ̓ͥ͝͏̶͡҉̢҉͙̖͔̪̮̭̣͖͇̀ ̧ͥ͐͐͌̃ͪ͒̓ͪ͘͠҉̴̵͔͍̻͇̘̦̲̫͓͢͡͠Ḛ̴̷̸̢̨̛̛̗̲͕͍̘̳͔̥̾ͣ̓͛͊ͧ̉́̉͝͠ ̵̛̛̩̫̤̗͚͙͕̜̖ͦ̓ͧ͋ͪ̈́ͩ͌̈̀͢͟͠͡͠ ̡͑̓̂͛ͭͥ͛ͩ̎͟͢͞͠͏̴̹͈͇͙̪̥̻̩̳̀̕ ̷̷̷̢̮̼̗͇͉̝̠͚ͫ͛ͣ͋ͨ̃̔͛ͣ͘͢͠͞͞ͅḨ̸̧̝̺̤̫̦̰̼̺̥ͨ͌͒ͤ͛́̌̿̓̀̀͘͢͞͞ ̸̂̓̈̉̾̽̃̂̊͏̸̧̨̮̪̼͈̜̤͍̩̯́͘͠͞ ̷̸̵̸̨̢̧̠̹͈̯̭̜̩͙̾ͮ̇̍̌ͥ̏ͪ̀̚͟ͅ ̶̵̴̡̨͚̹͙̘̫͎̲̙͔̾ͭ͛́̌ͫ̈́̔ͫ͜͢͡͠P̸̶̵̛̭͇̰͍͙͚̙̪̺ͪ̉ͫ́̒̽̈́ͥͫ͘͟͠͠͞ "

Jackie cringed, took one more look at Nat, whose eyes were crinkled in some form of worry, then tore her blades out of the crevices they'd carved. Twisting around and hoping the scarab had repaired most of the damage, so that Nat didn't have to see it, she extended her wings, slicing through the air like a sharpened edge. Her right hand morphed to a mace, and she spun, using the momentum to slam the full force of the weapon into the monster's face.

He recoiled, stumbling several feet back and into a nearby lamppost. Jackie landed with a thud, taking deep gulps of air while morphing her still bladed left hand into her plasma canon. Extending her arm, she aimed it at him, scanning his movements.

If he was a person, she didn't want to kill him.

His voice garbled, then cried with his demonic tone, swinging his arm out and throwing another rock of plasma.

Jackie wouldn't have cared about the arc it took, if there wasn't a kid on the other side of the street, running with his hand tightly grasped by his mom's.

Her thruster ignited in fire and resilience, and Jackie kicked herself off the ground, twirling midair as she grabbed the kid, tearing him away from his mom as the rock of fire landed right where he had been. His mom cried and Jackie tumbled against the pavement, keeping the kid engulfed by her armor. She handed him off to the mom, then kicked away, wings twitching in the daylight.

" B̵̷̴̸̡̛̰̳̫̦̬̝͎͙̆̽̎ͪ͛̑͗̂͡͠Ę̸͊̇ͬ̾ͭͦ̈̂͢͡҉҉͚̦̻̘̦̤̘̻̀͢ ̧̀̌̃ͧ̄͗͑ͦ͢҉͓̤̦̝͚̙͈͕̕͝͝͝͞ ̵̧̊͊̐ͮ̀̄͂̓͢͏̝̖͙̜̭̯̼̝́͘͠͡ ̷̡̜̟̺̩̳͓̩̟͌ͪ̽ͭͯ͂̒͒̀͜͜͢͟͠ ̵̶̡̜̲̱̹̣̦̙̮̆̿͐̒̇͛ͧ͑́̀́͢͢ ̴̧̢̉̀̿̓͒͋̈̚͟͠҉̨҉̖͙̳̤̜͇̬̝L̸̸̴̴̴̡̡͎̭̞͙̫̖͎̙ͣ́͂ͭͩ͆̓̓͝E̔̍̀̾ͣ̇͆̎͏̨̲͓̪̫̞̳͇̖̀͘͡͠͞͞ ̸̴̶̨̻͙͖̼̜̫̺̠̇͛̽̏̑͌̀̎̕͘͟͞ ̵̡ͩ͗̂͌ͨ̍̒̈́͞҉҉̷̧̖̘͈̟̜̪̠͕͠ ̸̄̄͐̎̀ͭͨͬ҉̢̛́̕͜͏͎͔̤̹̤̙͕̥ ̷̸̴̧̪̹̩̹̙̮̞͈̌ͭ͛̈́ͩͦ̍̚͘͢͢͠ ̨̢̅ͬ͐́̽ͧ̋́͘͢͡͏̷̷̞̙̟͙̹̠̱̩Ḩ̵̛̛͊ͯ̑͋̈̋ͣͫ̀͘͡҉̲̝̘̞̤̼̹ͅ ̵̵̛̬̭͔̰̳̙̹͙̈ͮͨ̿͂ͭ̋̈́̀̕̕͢͟ ̾͋̑͆ͧ͂̄̔͏͟҉̷̸̨̤̻̰̠͚̗͖̦̀̀ ̸̵̢͓̪̘̬͔̼͉̬͐̀̇̂̉ͧ͒ͤ̀͘͞͞͞P̢̛̈̇̈́̔ͮ̐̐͛́͜͡͠͠҉͇͍̘͖̘͎̲̮  "

Jackie swiftly dodged the next rock that came flying, pivoting in the air and firing a bolt of plasma at his chest.

It crashed into him, and he warbled a scream of anguish. Jackie felt the yell in her soul, marked in her guilt. But he had tried to kill a kid. Had tried to kill Nat.

Jackie looked around, trying to gain some sense of her bearings. The air felt swelting in his heat, each breath more painful and humid than the next. He was lumbering away from the lamppost she had shoved him in, marked in some type of pain, evident by the ever-changing plasma that was his skin.

Bringing her hands together, she pleated them into a barricade, then pushed forward, aiming to crush him against the wall. Just as she was within mere feet, his arm went sailing, hitting her side and sending her crashing into the building she had been aiming for.

This fucking sucked.

She climbed to her knees, then went tumbling to her feet when he limped towards her, growling and swinging more plasma.

Her heart was pounding, a visceral thing. blood was rushing to every part of her body, warming her nerves and keeping her on her toes. Pleating her hands to blades, she strafed, then plunged them into his side, producing a disgusting squelching sound. They had sunk deep, deeper than she had been expecting.

And then she felt that scorching pain. Trailing along her arms, sinking into her armor. Marking her in a known kind of pain.

She cried in pain, the same as him, and he tore away from her, his sides becoming covered in more plasma. He swung an arm to her, and she took the impact of the rock of fire that came flying, knocking her in the jaw and forcing her to stumble to the left.

"  H͌͋ͫ̎ͯ̐ͪ͢͏̸̧̛̪̤̖̱̜͔̮͠͝ ̧ͮ̒̉ͬͥ̅ͫ̀͜҉̸̯͙̩͎̬̹͢͟ͅ ̴̽̏̂̀́͋̀̚͏͘҉҉̞̪̞̗̦̮͇̀ ̴̧̢͖̯̝̺̥̲̝ͩͩ̉͑ͧ̓̉̀̀͠͡P̵̸̵̸̼̜̫̼̰͍̲̀̽̾ͥ͛̐͌͘͝͠,̸̴̢̮̯̫͔̲̩̹̽̈̃̉̌ͮͨ͟͞͞͡ ̨̍ͪ̅̎̔͊̚҉̡͚̭̖̥̻͚̣̕͜͜͠ ̀̄̔ͤ͐͗ͦ҉̸̵̰̮͈̹̩͓́̕͜͡ͅP̵̸̵̡̘̼͚̞̟̣̿́̆̾ͫ͒̋͜͝͠ͅ ̡̉̀́ͪ̂ͣ͋̕͢͟͞͏̶̘̥͎̥͙̬ͅL̸̸̴̔̅͒̀ͯ͌̌̕҉̶̢̫̳̗͎̤̯̹Ḛ̶̶̛͚̮̱̤̼ͮͤ́͊̃ͪͥ͘̕͠͠ͅ ̨ͬ͋͛͛̎͌̌̕͝͏̡͚̻̙̼̜͔͕͘͟ ̴̴̨̱̺̺̟̯̙̜̓͋̎̄͊͌̚͘̕͜͞ ́͂͐̔̑ͪͥ҉̷̧̡͘͏҉̬̲̼̫͕̩ͅE̓͗͐̆ͭ̃̾͜͝͝͏̶̡̛̥̥̲̪̱͙̫  "

His voice, still warbled, still echoed, was raspy and pained in its distortion. 

Deftly ignoring the searing pain along her arms and jaw, she decided on a different approach. Both her hands forming plasma canons, she began to fire relentless shots of fire. He was sluggish, clumsily, uncoordinated. Her aim wasn't fantastic, she wasn't fantastic, but enough spews of plasma landed into his hulking frame that she started to feel shame in her onslaught to the thing.

She wasn't even sure if it was a he. She took to assuming.

He got back up, a growling thing, and she took note of her hesitation, the slight pause in her legs, when he raised his arms. They dripped in that toxic substance, cracking the tile and concrete, burning right through it.

He swung, and she leaped to the left, flying in an uncoordinated heap to put distance between them. He screeched, flinging those rocks of fire in every direction.

Jackie was on the other side of the street now, the side with the restaurant. It was far more deserted than it was mere minutes ago. And a thought struck her; what if Nat was still here?

What if she hadn't had the chance to get out? Jackie had left her, left her in that destroyed, crumbling restaurant in the hopes of distracting the immediate threat. What if one of those stray rocks managed to hit her?

The monster was stumbling, but unharmed. Jackie panicked, pleating her right hand into her staple gun. She fired a dozen in succession, all aiming to pin him to the wall she had crashed in. They didn't do they're intended job; simply pushed him further and further back until she was beating him in the brick. Regardless, she considered him temporarily contained, pivoting on her heels to flying to what was left of the restaurant.

The place was a mess. Broken windows, from the monster, her, and people panicking and breaking them out get out faster. Cracked tiles, broken dishes, abandoned food. (Nat's bouquet, crushed on the ground. Only one flower remained intact.) Despite that, the only wall collapsed was the one she had entered from. Panting, she called, "Nat? You still here?"

(In hindsight, she should've at least tried to change her voice. She wondered if the scarab could do that for her.)

The monster still yelled, and she could still hear it.

"  P̑̍ͦ̅̓͐҉̷̴̧͕̺̱̣͔͕͜͝L̳͚̤̲̞̹͗͗̉̒̽͗́̀͟͟͞͡ ̄̾̈ͣ̀͋͞͠҉͘͏̴̱̱̼͔̫̥ ͑̌͂ͫ͛͗҉̵̨̨̣͉̜̤̰̥͡͝E̸ͭ̈ͩ̽̑̚͘͡҉̨͉͉̰̞̗̬͝ ̶̵̡̟̮̲̣̭̗̌ͧ̏ͥ̏̈́̀̕͡ ̷̷͊ͨ͑̍̅͂҉̨̢̣͔͈͚̯͕͜Ë̍̎ͧͥ̈́͏̢̕͞҉͖͕̹͚̳̱͘ ̴̧̃̌̑̊̂̀̀̕͞҉̺͍͎̥̭͇ ̶̓͒ͨ͒͐̀̚͢͏͔̳̩̟̝͜͢ͅ ̷̸̨̱͓̻̩̝ͩ̏ͨͥ̓̉́̀͜ͅḨ̸̸̹̦̱͚̻̜ͧ͛̊͗͐̚͘͞͞Ę̂ͦͤͨ̅͌͡҉͎̗̪̜͔̰͢͠͝ ̴̶̧̨̻̹̰͙̩̗ͪ͑̌̊ͥ̄̀͝ ̢͑̃̉̍ͪͫ́͞͏̺͉̜͖̰̮́͠P͐ͥ̋̐̈̔͝҉̷̨͍͚͉̞̙͙́͘   "

"In here!"

Nat.

Jackie broke into a sprint, breaking open the kitchen door and twisting around, trying to spot a head of bleach blonde hair. Pots were thrown to the ground, food waste across the lithium tile. She ran through the small area, knocking over silverware with her scarab's pincers and barely able to find the want to care.

She found her by the freezer door, tugging and banging against it uselessly.

"What are you still doing here?!"

Well. Jackie hadn't intended to sound mad. Really, she had intended worry and concern. But her brief fight was getting to her, and her muscles were just the smallest bit sore. So, Nat still being far too close to the fight didn't help. If Jackie had her way, Nat would be miles away by now.

Nat deftly ignored her question, saying, "There's someone stuck in here, I saw them go in. But something collapsed in the automatic lock, I can't get the door open."

"  Ṕͭͦ̎͗̀҉҉̸̼̟̣̪̮͢ ̢̛̗͉̦̰̭̊̿͑̓ͨ͘͟͝E̵̷̵̡̦̼̬̼̥ͫͮ̑͋͌̀A̡̎ͭ̽ͧͩ́͏̧̡̜̹̺͉̣ ̷̢̀̉̅̌ͫ͏̴̗͓̹͍̖͜ ̵̢̲̣̰͉̥̄͗ͧͭͬ̀̀͠ ̶̡̧̧̧̰̺͙͚̞ͥ̓ͨ̓̿Ṡ̴̷̵̰̘͙̪͉̌ͧ̽ͪ̀͟ ͯ̀̊̋̓̀͘͝͏̢͓̞̰͖͇Ȇ̏͋̇̈͏̷̵̲͎̰̼̪̕͟  "

Sometimes, Jackie wondered about how threatening she looked in her armor. She didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, the way her eyes were narrow, predator slits. The way different sections of her armor were spiked, defensive. The antennae made the small kids cry, because of how they looked and moved. 

Nat barely even trembled as she grabbed Jackies arm and pulled her close. She voice didn't hold a single shred of fear, "Don't you have super strength? I swear I've seen you lift cars on TV."

"With a lot of effort, yeah-"

"Fucking- then open the door," Nat said, throwing her hand to it.

Jackie become distinctly aware of the pressing time, when in the distance, she heard sirens.

The police could not handle this threat. This, she knew. But they would sooner kill themselves than let her help. Hell, they'd consider her just the same as the green monster made of fire.

So, she didn't argue with Nat and simply tore the large freezer door off its hinges. Inside, there was a shaking kid, maybe thirteen. There was a teddy bear pitifully held in his grasp, trembling just like him. It reminded her of Laura Lee on JV.

(Jackie was just a kid, too.)

Nat moved first. Jackie was getting the sense that was going to become a theme. The bleach blonde didn't ask for permission as she pulled the kid to his feet, wrapping a hand around his shoulders. Which presented another problem.

How in the fuck was Jackie going to get them out?

"  Ḧ̢́ͧ͐ͧ͘͟͏̝̞̗̙ ̡͈̦̠̝ͦ̎̏̌͜͢͟E̴̷̷̤̲̭̲͋͛̿̆͟ ̶̢̬͎̼̰̐ͯ̓́͞͠P̶̛̙̩̯̉ͭ̈́̆́͜ͅ ̸̴̶̮̯̬̺̐͑̄͆͠ ̵̢̥͍̦̆͗̎͒́͟ͅ ̴̢̜͍̝̜ͤ̌͑̐̕͞B̸̶̹̭̘ͫͦͫ̿̕͢ͅE̢͚̱͙̱ͦ̊͑͒͘͢͝ ͔̩̺̙ͦͦ̈́̈̀͡͝͝ ̅̊̌̑͏̵̴̝̫̝̘͡Ȩ̶̥̤͈̬̌́͆̇̕͢ ̢̡̜̠̹̩̃̏̊ͫ̀͞ ̧̨̢ͨͬ̆̓҉̦̲̺̭Ȩ̸̪͈̘̮̎͐̓̿͜͠Ę̧̧͙̩̪͕̎͗̓ͩ͟ ̴̢̻͚̞̱̍̅̆̈́́͠Ȩ̥̲̱̳ͤ̃̍́͜͢͞ ̶̷̛̱̣̼̰̍ͤ̄̏͞E̅͋ͯ͗͡҉̷̫̦͖̲͝Ȩ̧̛̛̪̺̳̮̓̋̃̈́  "

Jackie muttered a pitiful, "Damn it," While thinking of her options.

Fly them out? Risk the lives of the entire police force that shows up. If she's not present when they get here, they die.

They stay here? In even more danger if the thing outside starts breaking more buildings.

That meant-

"Get him and you out. Try to stay out of sight, I'll distract him. Meet me at your car," Jackie rushed out.

She had planned on waiting for Nat to respond, but a screech from the monster cut her off.

"  H̢̡̛͔̠͛ͮ̈́ͅ ͤ̆̐҉̸͍͚̘͞H̨̳̘̳̒̾ͯ́͜ ̸̢̭̣̳͆ͭ̍͠Ḥ̷̷̝̋ͯ̊̀ͅ ̴̭̟͚̽̓ͤ͜͟H̠͕̰̍̎͒̕͟͡ ̶̧͈͙̞̄͒ͦ͜ ̸̧̻̰̠ͫ̃̾͞ ̯̩̳ͦ̆̈́͞͡͝Ȩ͖͎̿ͨͬ͟͡ͅ ̪͖͍ͫ͆̍́͟͝Ȩ̧̱̖͙͑̓̅͜ ̷̻̻̮̏ͨ̑̕͡Ê̶̡̙̠̣̄̑͜ ̛̻̩ͭ̌͊͝͞ͅE͛̿̒͏̥͖̣͞͡ ̛͌ͫ̋͠҉̭͚̘ ̵̢̺̟͉̎͑ͤ͘ ̪̲͔̾͂̐̀͠͡L̨̫̪̻̋̏̐̕͡ ̇͐͋҉҉͇͎̤̕P̶͙͍̹ͩͯ͋̀͠ ̸̩̲̺̋̏ͩ́͟ ̴̛̗̝̹ͣ́̐̀P̡͙̗̹͋̎̓́͝ ̞̬̻ͭͦ̊́͘͜ ́ͥ̈͘̕͏͉͉͇ ̸̵͔̭͓̍̃̉͠P̢̠̬͉̃̊̒̕͜P̵̛̦̱̳ͭ̆̑͜ ͧ͒̚͏͙̜͕͠͠P̡̤͍̲͒̌̈́͘͝ ̶̮͈̭͂̃̈́͡    "

Jackie nodded, then ran back the way she came, trusting Nat to actually listen. 

Back outside, and met with the monster attempting to tear out the lamppost, Jackie swallowed harshly.

Your physical attacks have proven useless. We need a different solution.

Jackie scoffed, "Oh yeah? Want to-"

She was just off by another guttural scream, terrorized and full. This one was longer, longer than the rest, and she could feel it vibrate the ground.

And he was running in a sloppy, relentless sprint to her.

"
B̷̸̧̧̯͚̲̗̲̳̰̩̼̦̿́̀̕͟͝͠ ͮ́͘͟͡͝͠҉̡̞͓̦̲͇̦̜̹̟̪͠͞L̡̡̏͟͏̶̢̖̥͔͎̹̺̬̤̙́͘͘͞ͅL̷̵̢̨̨̛̹̻̬͓̫̭̹̮̩̘͊́̕͘͠Ľ͏̸̵̨̨͍͇̫͕̭̳̤͓͉̕̕͘͟͝ͅ ̷͂̕͏̴̢̡̟̼̝̞͇̜̲̦͉͓̀́͘͡ ̴̷̷̨̡͚̺͍͈͇̲̙̠̦̙̿́́͝͡͡Ư̍҉̵̷̶̢̡̛̬̲̳̳̯̦̜̮̜͈̀̕Ȗ͏҉̢͘͜͝͏҉̵̤̟̮̖̫̳̬̞͍̙͡ ̷ͪ́͘҉҉̵̛͇̟̣̪̰͎̘̲͔̕͘͟Ḙ̷̵̸̵̷̡̜̣͙͈͎͇̟̠̄̀͘͜͡͝E̢̛̛̐̚͟͢͠҉̡̜̜͕̯̫̝̥̼̫͘͞Ę̴̸̸̷̟̣̝̗̟͖̬̖ͨ͋́̀̀̕͟ͅ ̴̸̶̸̨̡ͦͭ̕͞͞͏̝̝̘̥̜͙̠̦͚B͗̓҉̸̧̡̀̀͝͏̸̼͈̘͙̹̪̮̤̞͞B̶̢͊̒҉͠҉̵̨̧̣̰̮̘̫̰̱̘͔̀͢ ̢̧̒͗́͟͟͠͏̨҉̡̘̭͇͖͈̦̞̖̬Ęͮͩ͏͡͏̸͕̱̤̼̘̥͓̘̭̀̀͟͢͠E̵̸̢̨̨̢ͧ̒͠͞͏̸͙̯̰̲̭͓̰̹̰Ę̴̶̷̶̷̢̛̺͓̩̖̬̰̬̪̌̏̚͟͞E̸̒̈́͌̀͟͝͏͞͏̧̡̟͎̫̜͈̼̝̝͟Ȩͧ̽̄͢͡͏̵̷̛̯̥̫̗̱͇͓̯́͢͝ ̸̷̡̧̢̖͈̤͕̦͔̯̈ͦ̄́́͝͞͞ͅE̛ͭ͌ͪ̀͝҉͏̷̛͈͙͇̖̦̤̙̩͢͟͝ ̽̿̒͏̸̡̛̟̙͇̖̖͓͈͚̕͟͢͜͢͞Ȩ̷̵̷̜̫̟̹͉͍̺̤͗̒͊́̀͜͢͞͞ ̴̵̧̧̛͕͙͙̘͎͉̰̲̿ͩͥ̕͘͞͠͞E̔̽ͥ̀͏̷̢̧̛̰͕̤̥̼͓͕̤͘͜͟͞ ̸̧̾̇̂͢͞͏̵̸̨̪̫̪̰̱̯̟́͢T̷̆͐ͩͯ҉̵̸̡̧̡̥̱͈͕̪͖͈͜͟͝T̴̷̷̸̒̀͆̄͢͜͟͡͡҉̰̣̤͎̰͔̝ ̷̵̇ͭ̽̚͏̵̶̨̢̩̝͈̻͈̘̯́̕͘ ̴̵̸̡͗͗͊̚͡͞͡͏̢̠͇̱̹̗̟̤͟H̶̷͊̐̀ͩ͞҉̵̷̸̩͓̘̹̗̪͈̀͢͠E̢͋͋ͧ̊̀͘҉̢̡̖̯̫͓͎̠͓̀͢͜͡L̢̢ͥͨ͐ͮ̀͟҉̵̨̨͇̯̮̥̪̪̻͡͠ ̴̵̸̢̢̨͕̲͖̣̤̟̩͆̑̏̉͡͡͞͡ ̋̐̋̔͏́͏͏̵̷̨̮̘̳̖̥͉̤̀͝͡ ̸̡̢̛͌̌̊ͬ̀̚͘͝҉̶̨̝̫͎̺̲̼P̷̵̷̷̶̧̧͚̗̲͖͖̲̌ͨ̓ͧͮ͜͟͞P̵̡̨̛̛͔̜̲͎͍̙͋ͦ̈ͦ̆́́͢͞͞P̵̛͋͊͆̈́͗̕͏͢͠҉͏͜҉̲̙̯͍̳͎ ̵̶̨̧̨̪͕̖̞̲̭ͮͪͧͤͦ̀͘͟͠͝H̢̢̡̡̨͚̼̻̘̮̭͑̾̏ͯͦ̀͟͜͠͠Eͩ̐͊̅̚҉̡̕͜͞͏̛̼͎̪͕̘̤̕͟͜ ̷̶͓͎̺̥̪ͬͩ̐̔̚̕͢͜͟͟͠͝͠ͅ ̵̴̸̢̨̢̭̼̥̰̼̦̈́͂̆ͣ̂̀͢͜͝Lͬͪ̈̉̉͏̨҉̀͘̕҉̡҉̨͓̟̙̭̜Ļ̴̶̧̧̬̰̰̣͖̃͆͒̾ͨ̓͟͝͞͠͠L̢̋͋̅̔ͧ͗͏͜͡͏̢̨̭͇͎̯̻͜͞͞ ̴̡̡ͦͦͦ͌̓̐̀͘͢͢͞҉̮̰̯̤̭̀M̵̶̶̷̛͕̫̼̱ͫͨ͌ͯͩ̽̕͟͢͝͠ͅȨ̶̡̨͉̯̻͚̟ͨͦ͊ͦͯͨ͠͝͡͠͝͡ ̷̷̴̧̢̛̪͇̥̦ͩ̐ͫ̎͆͂̕͟͝͝ͅĘ̶̵͎̤̱̜̯ͧ͒ͭ̇͐̊̀̀͘͢͝͞͡E̾̍͌̅̅͒͏̨͡҉̶̡̢͔͎̩̙͖̀͟͡E̒̾̌̌̿̈͏̵͡҉҉̢̨̛̖̮̠͖͖́͝Ě̶̵̶̡̢͍̜͙̖̈́ͩ̐ͤͦ̉̀͘͡͠͡Ẻ̷ͥͫ̌̂ͥ̐͢҉҉͢͏̛͘͝҉̺̞̺̩Ḙ̵̵̵̶͈͓̝͑͒ͭ̌ͧ̇̀͢͢͢͝͠͠Ę̶̷̧̨̥̝̪͕͂ͧ̈̅ͩ̏̀̚͘̕͢͡Ę̵̴̶̡̛̹͚̠̹̎̾ͣ̑̾̂ͨ͘͞͡͝ ̶̸̶̧̛̹̙̰̠̉̋̆̎̄̍̀̚͘͡͞͡P̴̶͉͔̖̙ͧ͊ͬ̄̂ͧ́͘̕̕͟͢͢͢͞L̈̓̌͋ͦͦ̚͏̷̧̡̨̡͘͟҉̣̺͇̜͟É̢̈͛̒ͮ̈́́̚̕͢͜͝͏͏̴̗̝̮̪́ ̡̛̓͗ͣ̀̾͂̂͡҉̡̝̣̲́̀͠͞͞P̴̅̅̃ͣ̎ͩͮͨ̕̕͝҉̷̢͙͎̻̀͟͞L̶̵̢̢̧̛̰̹̺̂͛̈̉ͮ͗̂̉͘͜͜͢E̴̒̿ͯ̐̿͗ͮͯ͏̨̕͏̷͜͜͝͏͔͉̪ ̸̨̘͇̘̂́͛̀ͩͯ̅̆̀́̕͟͝͡͝͝P̏̇̔͆ͥͫ̓͂͏̴̶̶̶̧̨͖̦͓̕̕͡L̡͆ͤ̑ͬͧ́̎̉͘͘҉̢̛͔͔̗́̕̕̕Ë̶̷̢ͩ̈́͛̏̽͒̆̕͢͠͞҉҉̵̙̦͉ ̵̶̴̡̧͖͉̫̈́̓̌̽͒̐̒̔̀͘͜͜͡L̷̢͍̘͎̈͒͆̏́ͪ͐̏͘͜͢͟͞͝͠͡L̷̴̨̗̜ͣͨͪ̂͐́ͥ̈́͋͘̕̕͢͝͠͠L̢̧̛̛͊ͩ̈̂͋ͧ̔ͨ͗́͡͏̧̦̞͢͝ ̡̡̛̽͂ͪ̈́ͣ͒̃̅̽͟͡͡͏̛̹̟̀̕P͊̀͆̊̇̍ͮ͆ͨ̀̕͜͝͠͏́͏̸̢̟͔L̵̨͉̟̇̈́ͭͬͣ̒́͋̽́́́̀͟͠͝͞E̵̷̷ͣ̈́̓̍ͩ͋ͣ̅̅͞͞͏̸̡̢̡͎̟ ̷̧̨͎̗̒̔ͮ͑ͨͯ̐ͬ̿̕̕͜͢͝͡͡ ͛ͭ͌͆ͤ̈͑͑̂͏̸̸̶̷̵̡̦͚́͘͡ ̵̶̴̨̧̧̖̟̏͗̀̌̍ͯ͂ͫ̀̚͞͞͝Ş̨̢͗ͩ̑̔ͫ̊ͨ͌͂́̕͢͝҉͕̀͢Ȩ̰̍ͩ̆̊́̓ͩ͛̐̃́̕͟͜͢͞͝͡͡A̸̴̷̴̧̧͊̔̓̈̈́̓ͨ̍ͦ̿͢҉̷̢͙Ȧ̶̸̧̡͔ͭ͌ͭͨ̐̈̅̄́́̚̕͢͢͡Ä̷́͂̎̋͋̏ͯ̅ͨ͐҉̸̸̧̫́͘̕͢͢E̶̸̸̢ͤ̄̃ͦͦͧ͐ͬ̓ͩ͘͢͟͠͏̙͝ ̧̛ͣ̐̈́̈́̉ͤͧͣͯ́́͘͞͏̶̡҉̡͔Ê̴̸̷̡̢̒̎ͣ̈ͣ̈́̃ͦͧ͘͝͞҉̻͢ ̷̢̡̛̛̦͑̏̄̊ͭ̓ͪͭ̊͛̀́͘͢͞E̿̀̓̃̀̈́͛̈̏͆҉̷̷̡̧̨͈̀̕͡͝
"

Jackie stumbled on her feet, barely managing to throw herself to the side as he came barreling towards her, anger spewing in every pound of a plasma covered foot. It dripped onto the asphalt, leaving a trail of sizzling, dissolving concrete.

She tried to fly, sputtered her thruster, but her grabbed her foot just as she managed to make it off the ground. With a surprising amount of strength, he heaved her in a spin, flinging her across the street and into the lamppost he'd been pulling at.

It bent with her body weight, and she went crashing.

The armor could take the hits. She would walk away with minor burns and bruises.

But this still fucking sucked.

Coughing, Jackie pushed herself up with her arms. She groaned, because no one was around to hear Blue Beetle falter, and Jackie was tired.

He is made of superheated rock and dying atoms. Cool him down.

To the scarab's credit, it wasn't a bad idea. He was a blazing thing, and with the sirens only getting closer, Jackie had to wrap up this fight quickly. Snapping her head to the left, she spotted a fire hydrant and formed a half-assed plan.

Letting her right hand pleat into a mace, she flew to the hydrant, stopping on top of it and turning to the glowing monster.

"Hey, you! Mr. Fire and Brimstone. Come get me!" She teased, swinging the mace around like an airport attendant. It worked just as intended, when the monster roared at her, and came barreling at its top speed.

"  Ḩ̜͉͎́̄̋͟͝Ẹ̶̢̭͐ͨ̓́ͅ ̧͎͉̻̀ͣ͌̀̕Ļ̛̥̦̻̇̈ͯ͟ ͐̇͑͏҉̩̬͍͠ ̟̫̝ͥ̉͂́͞͠M̸̡͙͈̯͆̾ͯ͟ ̴̸̶͎͚͔́̅̎ ̸̛̘̫̝̉̅́͡P̵͕͔̲̽ͮ͆͜͟Ļ̷̞̺͎ͮ͂ͤ͟ ͮ̾̒҉̨̞̮͎͜ ̂ͨ͐͘҉̝̺̠͝E͌̐͊҉͜҉̙̺̻Ä́̓ͤ͜҉̙͚̲͟Ś̨̤̩̲̽͋͢͞ ̶̷̖̤͈ͧͣͦ͢Ę̶̬͚͍̏͑͊̕   "

And just before he would've collided with her, Jackie kicked off of the hydrant, flying backwards as he hit the metal, full force. Unfortunately, said hydrant turned out to be better maintained than Jackie had been expecting, because there was no geyser.

Only a very anger, glowing, green monster made of fire.

And he tackled her.

Jackie cried, braced her hand in the plasma of his body, let the burning cover her torso as she spun them around, and swung her mace into the spot where the fire hydrant used to be. Then, she got her geyser.

The thing screamed. Jackie couldn't fathom the unimageable pain it must be.

"  P̸̮̑̎͆̚ ̶͇̺͆̽L̷̮̓̋̈́̚ ̵̗̱͐̒͌E̴̫̪̘͑͑̀ ̵̢̧͙̳̏̏Ä̷̡̖̤̎̀͒ ̴͍̘͖̈̍̋̍͠S̴͎̮̾͗ ̶̟̪̤͑̈́ ̴͖̑̽͑̔P̸̖͓̘̃P̸̩͚̈́͐̒̚ ̸͔̺͇̻̋P̷͙̰̺͕̏̈́̈́Ṗ̷̉̀̅ͅ ̶̞̌̚P̵̧̺̳̈̓͠P̶̨̯̭̓͒̐̂P̵̪̣̙̈́͟Ṕ̵̗̝͘ ̸͔̙̳͖́̏̅P̶̫̲̙̔ ̷̧̓L̶̰̆̽̽̎Ḷ̸̟̓͆͒̎ ̶͚̩̓̓E̴̱̓̈́̚͟ ̷̢̺̱̤͒H̵̛͚̲͉̾̍̕E̴͓̻̍ ̴̡̥͉́͆H̷̭͓̭̼͗̇̃Ḙ̶̯̄̚ͅL̴̼̤͊͐̊͜P̴̩̆̽͗̄͟  "

The sirens were almost on top of them now. Jackie could see police cars down the road.

She stood, her armor soaking wet, antennae drooping and pathetic. Panting and tired, her weapons folded back. Her head turned to the cars, but the heap of cooling rock next to her kept gurgling. Gurgling nonsense, she was starting to pick up on.

"  H̻̾͜U̷͉̐ ̧̯̔R̸̭̃t̛͉͐ ̯ͧ̀S̤̋́s̻̽͘ö̼́̀ ̵̣̓Rͪ҉̼ȑ̗͟y̲ͦ͟ ̵̹̔I̛̖̒'̹̆͢m̭̿͢ṁ̷͚ ͇ͯ͡S̢̠ͨ ̶̟͆ō̴̹r̗̔͝ṛ̢ͯ ̞̄͜r̢̮̅r̞̐͜ ̰͆͞a̒͏̼  "

She paused.

No.

No.

No no no no-

With an urgency unmatched, Jackie collapsed to the ground by the rubble of rock. The thing, comically larger than her by several feet, didn't even shift. She hovered her hands over what she assumed to be his face, trying to figure out where to start.

Her voice warbled, "Are you- how do I help? Tell me how to help!"

The cops were getting out of their cruisers now; guns trained on her. She toned out their demands for her to move away and put her hands behind her head. Their bullets would bruise, but she had more pressing concerns. Like the possibility she just killed a man.

"  N̷͉ͯo̷̲ͥ ͈ͪ͝yͩ͏̲o̡̲͗ȕ̞̕ ͖͒͡u̳̎͞ ̸̬̌ ̶̮ͧḏ̶ͫi̳̽̀ḍ̢͒,͈͂͡ ̡̯̐ǐ̧̭t̷̠̑ ̖͂́ḩ̖ͪu̖ͩ͝ ̧̲͂h̨̦ͤȕ̴͎ ̭̓͘h͉̃͡u͌͏ͅr̹ͨ͠t̷͎͂  "

Jackie could barely make out the words. She heard 'you' and 'hurt', but the rest was frustratingly unclear. "Me? Hurt? I don't- I don't understand. How do I help? Tell me, tell me-"

"Stand down! Back away slowly! Back away!" The cops (pigs). Jackie tuned them out the best she could, finally laying her hands on the person besides her shoulders, listening carefully. It was a whispered word, but clearly than anything else he had said before then.

"T̴̝̽h̶͎͛ a̵̝͐n̸͇̓k̶   ̵̪̊y̵̪̾ ̵̤͑o̵͙͝u."

Then he went completely limp. And that cooled crackling of the rock began to sound.

It sounded familiar.

Jackie gave a pitiful cry and attempted to tug him closer. Guilt echoed like a springboard. Did she just kill a man? Was he screwed either way, or did she just cause a man's death?

He was missing ninety-five percent of his muscle and bone tissue. It is not likely he would've survived.

The cops were moving towards her now, guns fully raised. The one in front had his finger on the trigger, twitching.

They were too close. The rock- the crackling, the fizzling- it was going to-

The sound. She has heard it before. Last week, in the parking lot, fighting that monster of rock.

And they were so similar in how they fought. He was going to- just like last week-

Jackie startled to her feet, extended her hands out in front of her, yelling frantically to the closest cop, the one that was certainly too close, "Wait, no! Don't come any closer! You need to back up!"

He fired his gun.

The bullet bounced uselessly off her chestplate, but it still stung. That was going to leave a bruise. Relentless, she took a step forward, and he took a step backwards.

"Don't move! You are under arrest! Anything you say can and will-"

The rock was thrumming with energy now. Jackie needed to get desperate and get desperate fast. Throwing caution to the wind, she ran forward, taking several bullets from the over a dozen cops swarming the street, and pushed the closest one away. He tumbled, scrapped his skin on the pavement, and certainly would be bleeding.

But he landed far enough away, if Jackie could recall the blast radius.

She didn't have the time to get away as the thrumming energy escaped the cooling stone in a whirlwind of fire. Still in her armor this time, she flew back with the energy emitted. Fire and dust, brimstone and plasma. She went soaring, but just before she hit the nearest building, pivoted with her wings and thrusters, and managed to make a lack luster attempt at fleeing in the air.

Almost.

Because just as she was about to turn to the direction of Rack n' Roll, where Nat's car was still parked, and where Nat herself was hopefully waiting for her, Jackie remembered something.

Nat's flowers.

Her favorites.

Jackie cursed. Thought about how pissed Nat would be if she went back for them.

And flew around an alley, back to the restaurant.

She landed at the side of the building and crept back in through the front door. Their booth was still intact, with the bouquet crumpled beside it. She removed the only flower still retaining its petals from the bundle, holding it close to her chest.

And if she swiped a package of cookies on the way out, nobody needed to know.

-

When Jackie spotted Nat's truck, she could've cried at the body leaning against the bed. Nat was scrolling through her phone obsessively, and Jackie dimly wondered what she was looking at.

Jackie hovered to the ground, eventually landing on her feet, and Nat's head snapped up.

"There you are! Where were you? The live feed says you left the scene fifteen minutes ago!"

Jackie should've known some bystander was managing to record the whole thing. When she pulled the slightly crumpled flower and container of cookies out from behind her back, she saw Nat visibly become dumbfounded in shock and frustration. She swallowed. "So, I needed to get a few things..."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"It's important! It's from our first actual day together!"

Nat groaned, "Unbelievable. You risked your life for a fucking flower."

"It's your favorite! And I got cookies!" Jackie defended.

(Unbeknownst to Jackie, Nat didn't have a favorite flower. That is, not until Jackie had asked, and Nat picked the first one she saw. She found she really liked forget-me-nots, now.)

Eventually, Nat receded, and Jackie celebrated. They sat stood together near Nat's truck, Jackie munching on a cookie, and Nat nursing her water bottle.

Jackie, once again, found herself incredibly content. They laughed about stupid shit, Jackie giggled to a story Nat shared, and Nat flipped off a nearby car that honked at them.

When Nat pointed out a spider against the concrete, Jackie had muttered an, "I got it," with a focused face, and used her staple gun to obliterate it. While still eating a cookie. Nat didn't say much to that, but Jackie could see the hilarity in it. And the amusement in Nat's eyes.

Just as the sun was starting to set, Nat turned to her, with a small smile and a roll of the eyes. "I guess today was pretty good. Jackie Taylor can make plans, after all."

And Jackie smiled something wide. Nat's eyes softened imperceptibly.

Yeah, Jackie thought. It had been a good day.

She had Nat. How could it not be?