Teddy ran. Crashing through the underbrush. He didn’t care about stealth anymore. It didn’t matter. She already knew where he was. She always knew. He panted heavily. God, this had been a mistake. Such a mistake. But how was he supposed to know that? How could he have realized that his coworker, his friend was absolutely mental?! He fell, the weapon clattered out of his hands. Laughter echoed behind him. He left it, laying feet away, as he scrambled to his feet and kept up his sprint. Another mistake.
“Oh, what a nice present.” The gloating voice trailed after him. “You are such a sweetie. But that’s not going to save you, mon frère. Nothing will save you now.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Where were the others? Had she really saved him for last? Had she? He grunted in pain as the back of his knee was struck. It buckled and he went sprawling.
He tried to stand but suddenly there was a foot in his back and a gun to the back of his head. He hadn’t even heard her coming. “Please.” He begged. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s too late for that, mon frère.” She said. “You made your choice.” She pulled the trigger.
“OW!” Teddy yelped, jerking. “Felicity! Seriously, that really hurt!” Felicity chuckled and stepped back.
“You’re the one who decided to break up the team.” She reminded him smugly. He scowled as he sat up and reached back. He rubbed the back of his head.
“And for that I warrant an execution style death scene?” He pulled back his fingers and noticed the green paint. “And with my own gun?!”
“Pro tip, mon frère,” She leaned forward, Cheshire grin widening. “Never leave your weapon behind. Not unless you have a backup.” Teddy glared at her.
“I regret everything.” He said flatly. She laughed and held out her hand to help him up.
“This was fun!” She said enthusiastically, leading the way back to base. “We should do this again.”
“Never again.” Teddy groaned. When they reached base, he saw the telltale purple splotches from Felicity’s paintball gun graced every member of the Cinema Critics.
“You even took out your own team?” He asked in disbelief, when he noticed the Podcaster Pals who they had been competing against were all sporting purple also.
“Friendly fire.” Felicity grinned. It wasn’t a friendly grin. In fact, it was downright terrifying.

Out of the Shadows - Fun asides... 

It's NaNoWriMo! I'm working through a novella, but I decided that this was a good warm up. The Podcaster Pals were down a teammate and Teddy suggested loaning out Felicity. It was a decision he regret. 

A little bit of the Femme Fatale​ slipped out. 
​

The tenth installment of Out of the Shadows.

It had been a long time since Felicity had to dress up. What’s more, she had never had to do so when she wasn’t expecting trouble. She’d always had a reason to dress up and so she wasn’t sure what was appropriate when she didn’t.

She forced herself to go unarmed, partially out of respect for Howle, and partially because there was no reason to. She was a plus one for an intern. Her only job was to make Sally look good. Not gather intel on her behalf. Not take out her competition. Just make her look good.

Her barista job didn’t exactly pay for high end outfits, but she had options. Buy and return was out. She couldn’t trust that Howle or his people wouldn’t remove the tag when if she got frisked. She could go to a thrift store and cross her fingers that there was something high end that wasn’t too thrashed. She could steal something, but she really shouldn’t.

…or she could go to see Sally unprepared. She’d said to come early if she didn’t have anything nice. She’d implied she had something Felicity could wear. Felicity could trust her. It was a novel concept to willingly go in blind. She would never have considered it… before… It meant relying on Sally just because.
Felicity made her decision.



She arrived at Sally’s house in jeans and a t-shirt a few hours before the event. Sally beamed at her when she opened the door.

“Come in, I’ve got just the dress.” She seized her wrist and dragged her inside.

Sally presented her with a long, sleek, satin pink dress that she would never have picked for herself but suited her perfectly. It clung in all the right placed and flattered her figure. Sally added a clip with a pink cloth rose to pull back the hair at her temple that almost matched but was just a shade off.

She looked pretty. Not the calculated beauty that she had in the past. It wasn’t an outfit designed to be seductive, subtle, or overt. It was just her.

She’d been right to trust Sally.​

A Weirdsville Story

I raced down the hall as if my life depended on it. The fluorescent lights above me flickered. I could register the muffled voices from the rooms on either side of the hall, but I couldn't make out what they were saying over my own ragged panting and the thud of my feet on the linoleum floor. I saw the door coming up on my right closing slowly. NO! I threw myself at it and literally slammed into the door.

The entire class stared at me as the door burst back open behind Mr. Bishop. He whipped around and I winced as the door hit the back wall with a bang and swung back into place. I straightened and tried to pretend that I hadn't just hit the door hard enough to bruise my shoulder.

"I guess that makes you on time." Mr. Bishop had recovered and was trying to look disapproving but mostly looked amused. "But consider this a warning about running in the halls."

"Yes sir." I felt my face heating up.

"Go ahead and take a seat, Miss. Roads." I nodded. He only called his students by their last name when he was trying not to laugh. He's one of my younger teachers, somewhere in that nebulous age of over twenty and under forty. I think it's his way of trying to say professional. I hurried over to my seat and dropped my backpack under the table.

"You okay?" Jessica leaned over and whispered. "You hit that door pretty hard."

"Yeah, I'm good." I rubbed my shoulder with a grimace and glanced at my friend. The lighting made her look even tanner than usual, and her curly brown hair gave her a slightly feral appearance. I sighed. "You have twigs in your hair again."

"I do?" She reached up and immediately found one. She pulled it out, wincing slightly as it caught her hair. "Ouch." I rolled my eyes. I couldn't figure out why Jessica didn't swing by my house when this happened. I was closer to school so she wouldn't be late. "Did I get them?" I returned my gaze to Jessica. She was staring at me with wide light brown (almost yellow) eyes as she patted down her hair.

"The obvious ones." I answered. "If you need to come by my house tomorrow morning to get ready for school, feel free."

"Uh, I'm good." Jessica assured me. I frowned.

"Well, offer stands." I shrugged. Tonight was the last night of the full moon, so she'd probably show up covered in mud and twigs again.
​
"If we're quite done." Mr. Bishop's irritated voice cut through our conversation. "Maybe I could start my lecture on the Revolutionary War?" We turned back to the front of the room. Mr. Bishop gae us a look and started talking. "It might surprise you to hear that our founding fathers weren't on the same page with a lot of things. In fact, if you get them all in one room, you're liable to find yourself in the middle of a shouting match." He shuddered slight, giving me a good idea of what he'd been doing last night. 

I’ve always known our town was weird. I just assumed that everyone else did too. Wolves howl on the outskirts but only on full moons. My history teacher refers to long dead figures as if he’d talked to them the night before. The woman who I always wave at on my way home has a giant red stain spread over the center of her nice white blouse. Every. Single. Day. So yes, this town isn’t exactly subtle about being strange. Is it wrong to assume that it was an open secret everyone is in on?
 


I pushed in the library doors displaying the hours (8 am to 4 am daily) and walked up to nice, old Ms. Bobbin, the night librarian. There was a photo on her desk of a New Years party from 1952, clearly showing Ms. Bobbin looking exactly the same, from her snowy white hair to her soft smile revealing sharp teeth.

“Hello Melody,” She patted her mouth daintily with a napkin and putting aside the thermos she’d been drinking from. “What can I do for you?” She smiled at me like a sweet, carnivorous grandmother with a smear of red that was either from her lipstick or her beverage marring the white of her teeth.

“I got an email that said my book on thermodynamics came in.” I loosened my scarf in the warmth of the library but did not take it off.

“Oh, let’s see.” She got up and walked over to the holds shelf behind the desk. “Here it is. Oh my, it looks awfully advanced.” She pulled out a thick book with lava flow on the cover.

“It’s extra credit for my AP Science class.” I explained. I accepted the book and handed her my library card for check out.

“That’s nice, dear.” She smiled, fumbling slightly with the computer.

A man burst through the doors behind me. “I need a copy of the Necronomicon!” He panted.

“Second aisle on your left, dearie.” Ms. Bobbin called, frowning over the screen. He tore off in that direction, his boots thudding on the rug.

“Hope he didn’t summon anything too bad.” I commented, only half joking, as I tucked the book into my backpack.

“Yes…” She agreed absently, staring after him in a way that made me think she hadn’t heard me. “Excuse me, dear. I have to make a call.” She handed me back my library card and picked up the phone on her desk.

“Alright, have a nice night, Ms. Bobbin.” I walked out the door with a single glance back at the aisle the man vanished down.


​ 
When my dad turned on the news the next morning I saw that, late last night, there had been a car fire with one fatality downtown. I glanced at the screen over my cereal. I can’t say I was entirely surprised that the photo they were showing was of the man who had run into the library. Poor guy, I thought as I finished my cereal. I grabbed my backpack and left for school. 

Hello everyone!

So last year I participated in NaNoWriMo. This year I am doing so again. However, I won't be working on a cohesive novel. Instead I will be working to pad out my Super-Verse. My brain is so far ahead on their stories that going back to actually write them always feels very time consuming, but it just has to get done! 

The good news is that since it's not a cohesive novel you are all much more likely to get updates! I must admit. Since I'm so far ahead mentally, the timeline might be a bit confusing, but I'll do my best and maybe even post a timeline so that it's easier to follow. I hope that everyone enjoys Red Queen, Stevis, Mister Machine, Sgt. Solar, Mecha Man, Blink, Miss. Melody, Shade, Marilyn Gold, Cyanide (who might be one of the most complicated people I've ever created), Blackbird, and so many others. This universe started as my "superhero clue" which was an idea I had to write in second person years ago to see if the reader could figure out which of their friends was a superhero. I received mixed opinions for the second person narrative but my heroes continued to flourish in the back of my mind, always feed by the influx of new Superhero media that has been coming out lately. 

So... Here is a very small taste of what is to come. 



BATTLE BROS (yes, I still like alliteration)

Sgt. Solar grit his teeth. A swarm. Fantastic. He was too old for this. He briefly wondered if this was a result of science run amok or magic. Either way, the massive cloud of buzzing, six-foot long insects were more than he could handle on his won.

He became aware of a whine growing in intensity over the buzzing. A familiar sound. Sgt. Solar relaxed slightly. The whine cut out abruptly and a man made entirely of metal landed beside him with a muffled clang. Small thrusters folded back into the side of the legs seamlessly. The silver face turned towards him, shining in the midday sun.

“Looks like you could use an exterminator.” The voice, though human, sounded as if it were coming through a high quality speaker.

“Are you volunteering, Mister Machine?” Sgt. Solar grinned. The cyborg was completely encased in metal, not an inch of skin showing.

“I don’t mind squashing a few pests.” Machine’s voice sounded amused despite the expressionless metal face. “I might have added a bug bomb or two in here.” Sgt. Solar felt the ground shifting. He moved away from it slightly as it parted, revealing a slightly bedraggled Stevis.

“This look like they could be from another planet, right?” The interplanetary defender squinted at the swarm.
“I don’t know, in New York roaches can get to be the size of a dog.” Mister Machine teased the alien. Stevis beamed.

“Oh good, these are much bigger than a dog. The council would believe I thought they were from another planet.” Sgt. Solar wasn’t positive that Mister Machine snorted, but it was the only sound that made sense in response to their slightly ignorant friend.

“Yeah, alien, let’s go with that.” Red Queen dropped from literally nowhere to land beside Mister Machine. A pair of Persian scimitars was in her hands, a billowing red cloth attached to the bottom of each. She spun one of them effortlessly. “Bet I get more than you.”

“You’re on!” Machine’s voice rose with the challenge.

“What do you say we work together and show those two what teamwork can accomplish, Stevis.” Sgt. Solar suggested.

“Whatever you say!” Stevis grinned, and raised the earth around him to form intimidating jagged weapons. Sgt. Solar rose into the air, his hands glowed with the light from the sun itself.
​
He didn’t have to face this alone. They weren’t an official team. But his friends would always have his back. They moved as one to meet the swarm. Mister Machine flying, Red Queen running faster than any human had a right to, and Stevis impossibly riding a wave of earth. Sgt. Solar smiled. And enthusiastically joined in the fray. 

Out of all of the things that I expected on my first day interning at the MCIU (Mystic Crime Investigation Unit), being tackled in a hug by a girl with a high pitched squeal was not one of them. I immediately stiffened, even as I was propelled backwards, almost toppling the desk behind me. I am not a hugger, especially not with complete strangers who launch themselves at me from across the room. I turned my head, baffled, but I couldn't see her face. It was buried in my shoulder and hidden by thick black hair. Her arms tightened slightly as I tried to pull away.

"I missed you." She mumbled into my shoulder. It was hard to make out because it was so muffled, and only made me tense more. Who was this girl?

At that point I heard someone cough slightly and realized everyone in the room was staring at me. No! This is not how I wanted to make my first impression!

"Miss." I said as politely as I could under the circumstances. "I think you may have mistaken me for someone else."

"Don't be silly, Lucy." She lifted her chin so I could hear her more clearly. My skin prickled. I shifted uncomfortably. She drew back so that she could look me in the eye. I started at the pure white pupils set in a pair of dark brown irises. A seer. "I could never mistake someone else for you." The words might have been disconcerting if they hadn't been delivered so cheerfully with the white pupiled eyes of the seer positively beaming at me in a way that I had never associated with their solemn stereotype.

I relaxed slightly now that I had some personal space, though the girl's arms were still looped around my waist in a loose hug. I might have been imagining the many small grins around the room. It seemed as if my new colleagues were hiding them. Most of my attention was on the seer. I was surprised to note that she was younger than me, barely out of high school by my guess. She wasn't much shorter than I was and had the physique of one who was not yet finished growing. Her hair was long and full. Her skin was either very tan or very pale, it was impossible to tell since I could not discern her ethnicity and I wasn't exactly inclined to ask. She seemed to radiate a simple joy at my presence. But what stuck me most strongly was the fact that I had never met her before in my life.

A woman behind her cleared her throat. "Miranda, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to go follow up on the money trail for the hex racket." She smiled apologetically, though I really couldn't tell if it was at me or the seer, Miranda. Miranda's arms tightened around me slightly.

"But Kate," She began to protest. The woman shook her head.

"Now, Miranda." She said, firmly. Kate walked up and guided the reluctant seer away from me, to my relief. Miranda cast a worried, white pupiled glance back at me.

"I'll see you later. Right, Lucy?" She asked anxiously. Kate answered for me.

"Of course, you will." She assured Miranda, with a wide smile that seemed to turn into a devious smirk when she glanced back at me. "You'll be seeing a lot of Lucy. She's working here now." Miranda positively beamed. Kate pulled Miranda away, with one last glance at me, down a hall out of sight.

Leaving me completely bewildered. Conversations resumed but it didn't escape my notice that they were whispered, everyone was casting glances my way. I tried not to scowl (first impressions!). Great, as if it was my fault some girl  don't even know decided to make a scene. I straightened my shoulders and my shirt, then walked over to Sgt. William Dark. "Hello, sir." I greeted him with a smile. He was one of the people who had conducted my interview. It might have been my imagination, but I thought that he was looking at me differently. Somehow his expression was both amused and... knowing.

"Right this way, Miss. Mason." He led me over to a small desk with a computer. "This is where you'll be working." He went on to explain what I'd be doing. It was simple paperwork really, scanning case files, typing reports. Boring stuff, but an internship at the MCIU was an internship at the MCIU. It was crazy competitive just trying to transfer in. When five internships for college students were opened literally hundreds of people applied. Honestly, I'm astonished I made the cut, but I was not going to mess this up. So I started working with a cheery smile, and pointedly ignored the stares. It took me a while to put the strange encounter with Miranda out of my mind, but soon enough I was fully absorbed in my work.

I was so invested that the hours passed quickly. I was jolted from typing a summary of a potions smuggling ring when a tray of food was placed on top of the pages. My eyes raised to find Miranda smiling down at me, holding her own food. "Forgetting to eat again, Lucy?" She asked fondly. I raised an eyebrow. This girl clearly knew more about me than just my name. I thought that my father was the only one who realized that I didn't eat when I was absorbed in what I was doing. How did this stranger know? I lifted the tray and removed the file, unwilling to risk it becoming dirty. I put the papers away as Miranda pulled a chair over to my desk. She put her tray down. I eyed her, then my food. I was hungry, but I wasn't sure what to make of Miranda. I would have gone for my own food, but that seemed rather rude. Clearly this girl was important, since she'd been allowed in the MCIU at such a young age, so I didn't want to insult her. The fact remained, this familiarity was making me uncomfortable. Miranda blinked at me, apparently uncomprehending of my lack of a response.

"What's wrong?" She inquired. "It's your favorite." I looked down and was startled to see that the plate held a tuna sandwich with salt and vinegar chips. The truly surprising part was that there were cranberries mixed into the tuna. I pulled back and glanced up at her. This was getting weird. It was my favorite, but I didn't get to eat it often. Miranda was staring at me. The white pupils searching my face with concern. I had to say something.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced." I said, finally. "You're Miranda, right? I'm Lucy Mason." Miranda's jaw dropped.

"O- oh," She turned slightly red. "Oh! I'm so sorry." She held her hand over the table. "I'm Miranda Dai." I shook her head. Miranda pulled back, and beamed. "It's really great to meet you." Then something dawned on her. "Wait, did I hug you this morning?" She gasped.

"You did." I nodded warily. She was starting to flush.

"And this is the first time we've met?" She asked.

"It is." I confirmed with a nod. Miranda turned bright red.

"Oh," She looked down at her food. "I just... I'll be right back." Miranda excused herself rapidly and hurried away. I stared after her, as perplexed now as I had been this morning. I looked back down at the food she'd brought me, only to return my gaze across from me as Kate, the older woman, took the chair Miranda had just left with a sigh. She glanced up at me. I waited, clearly she had something to say to me. I ran my eyes over her again. Her hair was light brown, pulled back in a low ponytail. She was probably in her late thirties, married, as evidenced by the ring on her finger. My eyes settled on a rune on the ring, married to a mage, I amended. Though not a magic user herself, given her choice of gun (9 mil, favored by non-magic users) and protective charm. Overall, I got the impression that she was a no nonsense detective, who was valued in the MCIU for her practicality.

"You're confused." She stated.

"Very." I confessed. "I'm hoping that you are about to clear somethings up." Kate smiled grimly.

"I am, after a fashion." She contemplated my face. "We are very excited to have you here, Lucy." I could feel my irritation flare.

"So it would seem." I replied, trying not to let my annoyance show. Either I failed miserably or she was just a very good detective. She laughed slightly.

"Perhaps it would be easier to say, it's nice to finally meet you." She amended. "You see, we've heard a lot about you."

"From who?!" I asked, becoming outright frustrated. Who talked about me this much?

"From Miranda." Kate answered. I blinked. "Obviously you've noticed Miranda is a seer." Kate continued, ignoring my surprise. "Honestly, Miranda is one of the most powerful seers that we have ever encountered. Because of this, she sometimes has difficulty differentiating the future and the past." Kate held my eyes with her own. "She confuses her visions with her memories." Things were beginning to make sense, though they didn't make me feel any more comfortable.

"And she's had visions of me." I inferred flatly.

"Lots of them." Kate nodded. "You might have only met Miranda this morning, but she feels as if she has known you for years."

"To me she's a stranger." I argued. I felt like I was being asked for something I couldn't give. I didn't know what yet, but it seemed as if Kate (and the rest of the MCIU, if their reactions to the hug this morning was any indication) wanted something from me.

"To her, you are her best friend." Kate smiled at me, I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. "Don't worry, you'll do fine."

An installment of In The Shadows... 

18 years ago…
 
The eight-year-old girl with brown hair and eyes peered around the corner. She had done her part. It had been surprisingly easy to pick the man’s pocket before he met with her mother. He was supposed to be a member of Pantheon and her mother had stressed how dangerous Pantheon was. The girl tried to contain her proud smile, watching her mother greet the man. Maybe this meant she was ready for more important jobs. Maybe-

Pain spiked from the top of her skull. She stumbled forward and it was a testament to her lifestyle that she didn’t cry out. The girl whirled around, but instead of an adult she found herself staring at a little girl, about a year or two younger than her, with blonde hair and grey eyes. The blond girl stared back, as if surprised that she had not successfully knocked her out wit the butt of the gun she was holding. The top of the brown haired girl’s head was still throbbing. She narrowed her eyes at the other child.

“That hurt!” She snarled and launched herself at the blonde in a tackle, knocking the gun out of her hand. The two girls tumbled to the ground. When her mother and the man from Pantheon came to stand over their wayward operatives they were still fighting; the gun lying forgotten a few feet away.



Seven months later…

The young blonde Pantheon member pushed her to the ground and landed on top of her. Down the street the bomb detonated prematurely, rubble showered down around them and the screaming began. The brown haired girl rolled them under a vendor’s cloth covered table before they could be trampled by panicked civilians. The blondie pulled back and looked around at the canvas walls created by the tablecloth. “Not bad, freelancer.” She reluctantly admitted.

“Not bad yourself, lapdog.” The other girl replied, a smirk pulling at her mouth.



One year later…

“Get him a little more to the left.” The blonde girl’s whisper came through her headpiece. The brown haired girl smiled at the target, then turned and ran to the left.

“Hey!” He shouted, starting after her. The girl heard the shot, followed by the short cry of pain and the thud of a falling body. She glanced back before she scurried away.

“Nice shot.” She muttered. On the other side of the headpiece, a small blonde child smiled as she dissembled the gun.



Two years later….

The Filli blinked in surprise then smiled at Hecate, the Pantheon assassin who was working with the Femme Fatale. “So they gave you a codename, lapdog.” Hecate rolled her grey eyes but she couldn’t quite hide her pride. Ten years old was astonishingly young to receive a codename from the Pantheon.

“You’re doing pretty well too, freelancer.” Hecate eyed her mentor, silently impressed that the girl she’d known so long would one day become the next Femme Fatale. If she survived that long. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again.”

“Me neither.” The Filli admitted with a shrug. “But Femme says Pantheon hires us a lot.”

“That’s because the Femme Fatale does good work.” Hecate’s mouth twitched as she almost smiled. “I’m sure you will too.”

“Filli,” Femme called, she nodded at Hecate and jogged back to her mentor.
 


Three hours later…

The Filli glanced up as the Femme spoke to her, speaking in French as usual when they were alone. “You know that we will not always be working for the Pantheon.” She reminded her student. “Often we are working against them.”

“Of course.” The girl looked at her in surprise. “Why do you mention it?”

“Hecate.” The Femme answered. Understanding flashed across the Fillia’s face and her eyes hardened.

“I do not need to trust her to like her.” She replied. “I know if ordered, she would kill me. And she knows that is she’s in my way I’ll kill her.” The Femme smiled and patted her shoulder.

“I am glad you understand how friendship works.” She said.

“Obviously.” The girl’s smile would have frightened a grown man. “We are children, not fools.”



One year later…

Hecate rolled away from her sniper rifle and to her feet, narrowly avoiding the bullet that embedded itself in the concrete shed been lying on. She glanced up at the twelve year old advancing on her with a gun. “Bodyguard work? Really?” She scoffed.

“He wanted the best.” The Filli smirked.

“The best won’t save him from the Pantheon.” Hecate responded. The Filli’s jaw set and she fired. Hecate dove behind a pillar and pulled a small gun from her ankle holster. And so the gunfight began in earnest.



Two months later…

“How’s the leg?” The Filli asked as she unwrapped a lollipop, eyeing the boy her age. The Pantheon had hired her and the Femme Fatale to kidnap him.

“Alright, Persephone fixed me up pretty well. How’s the shoulder?”

“Still a little stiff.” The Filli suppressed a wince when she shrugged.

“Well, I hope you shoot as well with your other hand.” Hecate remarked as she moved to intercepted one of the boy’s bodyguards, an eleven-year-old girl looked innocent enough to slip right under his notice.

The Filli laughed. “You know I do.” 

I'm doing fairly well with NaNoWriMo! And yes, I have gotten to the part where you left off, the section of the novel I'm calling Powerless. After the events of Power Play Caroline gradually loses everything. Despite that... I can't seem to take her best friend Maisy from her. I know I should just destroy her... But I can't seem to crack that bestie bond she's got with Maisy... Whom none of you know much about yet! So here's a sneak peek!


​

Maisy burst into the room. “I found another one!” Joan eyed her critically.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” She growled accusingly. Maisy looked awful, bags under her eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles.

“Sleep can wait.” She waved her hands dismissively. She shoved her phone at Caroline. “She was just in Mexico.” Joan typed on the computer quickly.

“Found it.” She skimmed the text. “They are calling her la bruja de los santos.”

“What’s that?” Caroline asked blankly.

“It’s Spanish for ‘the witch of the saints’.” Maisy answered. Joan raised an eyebrow at her. “What? You thought I wouldn’t pick some stuff up dating Jimmy?” She scoffed.

“It seems as if she’d doing good work there.” Joan went back to reading.

“Is she still around?” Hans leaned over her shoulder, trying to decipher the Spanish on the screen.

““No…” She answered slowly, putting the most recent update through the translator. “Seems like she cleared out a couple hours ago.” Caroline slumped. Maisy leaned back against the table, defeated. Hans noticed.

“That’s it. Bed, both of you.” He ordered in a voice that brooked no argument.

“I can still look!” Maisy protested. Joan scoffed. Maisy shot her a dirty look.

“And I have to be ready when we find her!” Caroline exclaimed straightening. “There has to be more we can do!”

“Maisy, you’re two hours sleep away from deprivation induced hysteria.” Hans crossed his arms. “And Caroline,” Caroline’s fevered, desperate eyes met her prince’s, and he softened noticeably. “Just get some sleep. Please, princess?” Caroline didn’t want to. She was absolutely desperate to find Myriah, but the concern in Hans’ eyes pulled at her. She bowed her head in acquiescence.

“Come on, Maisy.” She said quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. “I can loan you a robe and nightgown.” Maisy frowned, but let herself be led up the stairs. Caroline stopped in front of her private bathroom. “You could use some freshening up. I’ll grab your clothing while you shower.” Caroline left Maisy, practically fleeing to her room.

Caroline struggled to pull out the bed tucked under her own. Maisy often used it when she’d stayed over too late to feel safe going home. When she managed to slide it out, she fell slightly, landing on her butt. Instead of trying to stand she hid her face in her hands. She was trembling. She didn’t know what she was doing.

When she collected herself, she went to her closet. She reached for the satin gown and then hesitated. Caroline loved the satin gown, but Maisy, she turned to the drawer and pulled out the flannel pajamas that she almost never wore. Maisy liked to look glamorous, but she actually loved things warm and practical. She’d sleep better in the flannels. Caroline left the pajamas just inside the bathroom door. She returned to her bedroom, and sat numbly on the bed, staring at the wall as if Hans was about to shout through it that they had a way. That they had found the witch and they had a way to return Caroline to her former self.

She didn’t even look up when Maisy walked in, toweling her hair off. Her best friend sat beside her on the bed. “The shower helped.” She said. Caroline didn’t respond. “It got me thinking…” Maisy hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.” Caroline’s head whipped around. She stared at Maisy with eyes full of betrayal. “No, Caroline, please just hear me out.” She took her best friend’s limp hands in her own. “Healing has always been a bother to you. Let Myriah do it. Let her suffer through the exhaustion and the nausea.” Maisy’s hands tightened reassuringly. “If you can’t heal, no one will have any reason to kidnap you, no one will ever try to force you into something, no one will try to befriend you just because their aunt or mother or cousin is ill and break your heart when they ask for ‘this one tiny favor’ that leaves you feeling sick for days.” Maisy’s words were logical, but in Caroline’s head, they didn’t make sense.

“But…” She faltered and tears began leaking from her eyes. “It’s wrong.” Maisy’s breath caught.

“Oh, Caroline.” She pulled her into a hug. Caroline was almost unresponsive.

“I won’t be a princess anymore. I won’t be me.” Caroline started shaking with emotion. “I’m not a princess any more.” Caroline began sobbing. “Oh god, who am I? It’s like Myriah kidnapped the important part of me and let the rest of me go!” Maisy made comforting hushing sounds and tipped them over so they were lying on the bed. Caroline finally reacted to Maisy, but it was only to clutch at her like a lifeline. “She’s the princess now!” Caroline sobbed hysterically, hands knotted in Maisy’s flannel shirt, the same shirt absorbing a majority of her tears. “She’s the princess and the witch! And I’m nothing!” Caroline was in absolute hysterics, barely aware of Maisy there comforting her. When she finally cried herself into exhaustion and then sleep, Maisy was there.

She was also there when the former princess woke up. Sleeping beside her, arms still curled around her friend as if she could protect her from facing the world without her identity. Caroline stayed there for a time, pretending that she could.