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Fate/stay night & Worm Xover Rated: M, English, Archer, Skitter, Flechette, Words: 150k+, Favs: 4k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Dec 4, 2018 Updated: Aug 28, 2022

1,232Chapter 5

Don't own Worm, don't own Fate. Read and Review. Hope you all enjoy.

{}{}{}{} New York State Asylum for Parahumans; week seven

The archery target the asylum had scrounged up for me was looking particularly lovely now that I had completed the Celtic knot design. True some of the arrows were off by an inch or so but it was well done. I'd probably make a damn good showing at a professional tournament. One hour a day, three times a week, for four weeks, it was extraordinary progress. Part of me regretted the fact that my skill was largely due to Shirou's abilities and our merging, but even still I had worked hard to improve quickly.

Taking a deep breath, I traced a metal disk about the size of a plate and launched it into the air like a frisbee. I took a bare moment to aim, being sure to lead the target, before firing an arrow. I clipped the edge of the disk. Not bad, but I could do better.

The next disk I hit dead center, but I missed the third and fourth by a few inches. And so, it went. Shooting flying discs out of the air with a bow and arrow was hard, which made it good practice. It would be even better practice if I wasn't launching them myself that way, I'd be less prepared for their flight path and speed, but that could wait until I had mastered this much.

At the end of my hour I'd managed to get to the point where I was bulls eyeing every third disk or so, and only missed maybe one in seven. Good progress, but still more room for improvement. Shirou had been oddly quiet while I practiced. That was starting to be a thing with him. He just said less in general as time went on. Sometimes out of nowhere he would have something snarky to say. And every now and then when I was practicing, he would launch into a lecture or a detailed explanation, but there was getting to be less general chatter between us. He was losing himself, slowly. Whenever he did speak up it was still definitely him, he just spoke less now.

Prompting him still got him talking though, so that was something. I wasn't on my own yet or anytime soon, but seven weeks here and three before that… two and a half months for Shirou to start noticeably fading. Would that pace start to accelerate now that it had started, or hold constant? Would I know the end was coming or would it catch me off guard? With a sigh I dispersed everything I had traced in the past hour.

"Alright, Jack. About that time, right?"

The trouper favored me with a fond smile. "Yeah, time to head back inside." With an agreeable hum I started walking. "You mind if I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Jack was an alright guy. We had chatted a bit whenever he got stuck watching me on these little training sessions of mine. Mostly on the way out or back in. He was nice enough not to distract me when I was practicing.

"Why haven't you ever made a run for it? The Lieutenant chewed the docs out when they put in for someone to watch you train a few times a week. Said you'd make a break for it inside of ten minutes. It's been weeks now and you're still here, so, why?"

I chuckled. "You wait till we're practically back inside to ask in case I'd never thought off it before?" I joked. "Where's the wire you're wearing so I know where to direct my answer?"

Jack only fidgeted a little.

"Tell you what, I'll trade you an answer for an answer." I said coming to a stop so I could face him. Sure, being honest about this when it would make it back to the rest of the staff inside an hour. It was not the brightest move, but I wanted out of here. Applying a bit of pressure wasn't such a bad idea to move things along.

The trooper took a moment to mull that over. "No promises, but I'll do my best."

"Alright then. Near as I can tell I've had all the doctors convinced I'm as sane as the next cape for the past two weeks give or take a bit. But I'm still here. If they aren't interested in keeping me locked up someone on your end must be, so, why?"

Jack looked away. Guy had a lousy poker everything. Didn't take a thinker power or instincts honed in the hell hole they called high school to recognize the question made him uncomfortable.

"Don't know anything about that, miss."

"Bullshit, Jack. You troopers gossip like old ladies. Even Lieutenant Williams. If she knows you know. You want your answer you'll give me mine." Hell, they even gossiped with me. Which was the only reason I suspected this might work.

Jack fidgeted for a moment before he started to speak.

"There are, ah, rumors. Nothing concrete you know? Stuff we've heard from old friends in other commands, what few orders we do get, a little of what the rest of the staff might know. All this is stuff, it's been passed on through who knows how many people, yeah?" I nodded. "You get far enough up in the PRT you start running into politics. Word is something about your case got the interest of the guy running Boston, Armstrong. Nice enough guy, but he's kind of an egg head. Real interested in figuring out stuff about how powers work, where they come from, all that. Nothing wrong with that, but it doesn't really make him popular with the more, uh, military minds."

Something about my case interested him? Was that Shirou's bullshit story about being recruited to teach someone abilities he had developed in exchange for power, or just the fact that I was the first Parahuman on record to come with a built in instructor? Either way I could see how I might have drawn the man's attention. But how did that relate to me still being here?

"Thing is, being an egghead doesn't really make him any good at politics, or networking. So, someone more military minded, who's trying to get ahead hears that he's interested in you, and all of a sudden, they have to take an interest to. And because they aren't too fond of the Director, they might throw a bit of weight around, maybe call up a few people in Washington even to make things more difficult. A few concerned Congressmen and a bit of, ah, legal fiction, can cause a lot of red tape."

For fucks sake, really? Was I really caught in the middle of a pissing match between grown men? This was my life now.

"Who exactly, should I be on the lookout for? Just in case he ever decides to take a more invested interest in my case." I ground out.

"Word is it's, Tagg. He, uh, has a reputation." Jack fidgeted a bit.

"Oh, do tell." I almost growled.

"Ex-military, led a team of PRT troopers for years. Handled Ziz containment zones." Jack winced. "That's not a duty anyone wants. Gunning down poor bastards who just want to escape someplace that can't produce the food to support them all, never mind all the other shit it takes to keep a city running, or how the places are all but lawless. Woman, kids, whatever crazy cape may have triggered in one of those hell holes." Jack shook his head. "They tell horror stories about that shit in basic. Some people say Tagg dealt with it all a little too well. That was a few years ago and people still talk about it."

Lovely. Just, lovely. That was the kind of man using me as part of some stupid political maneuver. I was furious, but I chained the feeling. It couldn't do me any good now.

"Remind me to put an arrow in his ass someday." Archer grumbled.

"Only if you remind me. We'll each take a cheek. Keep him standing at attention for a few weeks."

"Well, you did answer my questions so I suppose I should return the favor." I said bringing my focus back to Jack. "There's a few reasons I haven't busted out of here, just yet."

"Yet?"

"I could have been gone any time, just would have needed to pass control to over to the guy who can really use my abilities." I wasn't sure if the troopers knew Shirou's name, but between the orderlies gossiping and whatever they were briefed on to better handle their job I was sure the troopers knew of him. "Getting out of the building like this would have helped, but I could have gotten out regardless."

"So, why stay?"

"I bust out and I'm either a villain or a vigilante as far as the government is concerned. That makes things difficult for me, long and short term. I get caught after proving I can break out of this place, where do you think they would send me next if they can convince a jury I'm dangerous and insane?"

Jack didn't say anything and I didn't blame him. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thought to consider, but people had been sent to the Birdcage on flimsier logic before. Canary might just be joining that list of poor unfortunates if the news was to be believed. The way my luck tended to run I wasn't going to bet on my odds if it came down to that. Especially not with this new bullshit about this Tagg guy trying to delay my release. If my breaking out would prove him right and help him win points, he would likely jump at the chance to bury me and win more.

"There's other reasons too. I break out, I can't go home again. Can't see my Dad. Not without putting both of us at risk. I'm getting good, Jack, but I can't compete with the real heavy hitters yet. Enough numbers of low or mid tier capes might be enough to bury me too. What am I going to do? Pick a city and fight a one woman war against every gang in it, all while dodging the PRT and Protectorate? I will if I have to, but that… How long can anyone last like that?" Not long if the statistics weren't entirely fabricated by the Protectorate's PR department. Six months, on average. I was going to help but I couldn't afford to throw my life away. I was going to help, but I needed to find a way to get at that thing. I wouldn't be doing any good dead.

"Besides, I've got one more trick I want to learn, and another month and a half to do that in." There's the bait.

"Month and a half?" And he takes it.

"Give or take. When I came here, I promised myself, three months if they let me train. Less if they didn't." I shrugged. This was risky, but the Doctors knew I was frustrated, and this was the only pressure I could apply to hopefully move things along. "And like I said, there's one more skill I'd want to learn before leaving."

"What's that?"

I grinned at Jack and started to trace something special. The ghostly outline of a red spear started to form over my outstretched right hand. Gáe Dearg. A spear I suspected would cut through most forms of power granted invulnerability and projections. But I still wasn't skilled enough. I couldn't grasp everything that made up the spear's legend. It was beyond my reach and the backlash shot up my arm like a line of fire as the image of the weapon scattered in particles of light. Cursing I shook out my pained limb. I was getting closer. I'd manage it sooner or later.

"I keep telling people I've got weapons that might as well be powers all on their own." I said as the pain died down. "Did you all think I was blowing hot air this whole time? I just can't trace them yet. But I'm getting closer. Once I can do that?" I grinned toothily. "Then those heavy hitters better watch out for me."

Without another word I resumed walking back towards the asylum. I had no doubt everyone would know exactly what I said within the hour. Maybe that would light a fire under some of them. Maybe it wouldn't, but it couldn't hurt to remind them that for all I might be playing nice, that's all it was. Me playing along.

{}{}{}{} The next day

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you spoke with Jack didn't you?" Doctor Yamada asked with fond exasperation.

"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about." I replied innocently as I played with a blunted butterfly knife. I wasn't sure where Archer had come across one of the things, but it was a great way to pass time and I was starting to get really good with it. Sooner or later I'd be doing it with a live blade. Now that would be fun. Well, watching people react would be fun. For now, it was just distracting me from wanting to hurt someone, badly.

"You asked him if he was wearing a wire, and you know full well how fast news travels here."

"Fine, so I'm trying to put some pressure on the staff and get myself out of here. Were you ever going to mention to me that I'm still here because some idiot wants to use me to make points with other idiots in Washington?" I asked pointedly as the butterfly knife click-clacked in my hand.

"We were hoping it would be resolved quickly enough that you wouldn't need to know."

With a final click I snapped my knife closed and tossed it onto my bed. "Doctor, really, am I ever going to get out of here the legal way?"

Doctor Yamada nodded firmly. "You will, this kind of tactic is a delaying action at best. The only reason it is working at all is because Parahuman law is a legal mess full of contradictions and loopholes."

"Not filling me with confidence, Doctor."

"I'm afraid that's the best I can offer, Taylor. I'm only a psychiatrist. But there are things I'd like to talk about with you this session if you don't mind?"

"Nowhere else I need to be." I snarked.

"These weapons you have mentioned in the past, the ones you claimed might as well be separate powers, can you tell me about them?"

That actually caught me so off guard that I had to pause and blink at the woman. She never gave a damn about my powers. It was actually pretty admirable of her. She cared about me, Archer, and our separate and collective mental health, the rest just didn't matter to her.

"Huh, so that caught the PRT's attention?" The Doctor didn't say anything, but she didn't need to, the answer was obvious. "Really, I've only been saying it for a couple months now, you would think they would be faster on the uptake. Doctor, you can tell the PRT I told them to learn some subtlety, and that they should let me out or get lost. I'm not telling them anything."

"Well, I only promised to ask." The doctor admitted with a small smile. "I'd like to return to our previous discussion."

"Do we really need to talk about this again?" I growled.

"You insist that you are going to be a hero, but you don't have a plan. As your therapist it is my job to talk you out of suicidal behavior." She calmly responded.

"I have at least five plans at this point." I protested, though I couldn't seem to look the Doctor in the eye.

"You have two plans. One calls for sitting around somewhere high up with a bow and arrow, and the other is to wander the streets at night looking for a fight. Neither plan includes any kind of backup. Taylor, plans like that will get you killed eventually."

I knew that. I'd told Jack basically the same thing. But damned if I was going to cave to the alternative without a fight.

"You're pushing the Wards, again. I, they didn't even pretend to listen to me. They just tossed me out on my ass. They had Dad half convinced I was insane for a while, and even now he still doesn't know what to say to me. And you want me to trust them?" I stood up and started to pace, almost without a thought I traced a new butterfly knife and started spinning the blade around my hand. The rapid click clack of the practice blade opening and closing beat out a rhythm to my emotions.

"If I had to take orders from Armsmaster I'd be more likely to break his stupid halberd over his head then listen. Jackass. Telling me how my power works. It's not like I tell him how his power works." I tossed the butterfly knife to my left hand and traced a throwing star to bury in my dartboard before tossing the knife back to my right hand and resuming my tricks. "And the rest of them just let him! Miss Militia just stood there trying to act…. Ugh, she was oh so sympathetic. Don't worry it's for your own good, and to keep people safe, and doesn't that make the fact that we're going to lock you up seem so much better?" I hissed.

I didn't even stop spinning my knife this time instead I just traced a few dozen darts and fired them directly into my dartboard. The steady thumping lasted only a couple of seconds and did nothing to help me calm down.

"And now there is this Tagg asshole! He's never even met me and he's trying to make my life more difficult! And for what! Because he has to be seen getting in some other PRT morons' way? Does he even think I'm dangerous, or is it just some excuse he's using?! Where does he get off interfering in my life!"

I spun to fix Doctor Yamada with a look. I couldn't help but be impressed with just how calm she looked. At the same time, I wanted break that calm. I could kill her in a heartbeat. It would only take a thought, and she just sat there perfectly calm and controlled while my life kept circling the drain. But the thought flowed away as quickly as it came. I liked the Doctor. I knew this was just how she handled things. There was no point getting angry with her. I threw myself onto my bed and glared at her.

"That's the group you want me to join. The group you want me to trust to have my best interests at heart? You want me to trust them to have my back when I need them?" I growled. "Give me one good reason why I should, because they sure as hell haven't given me any."

The Doctor took a deep breath before speaking. I had to wonder if maybe that was a tell that she was afraid of me. Oddly that thought calmed me down in equal parts pride and shame.

"Taylor, they're the only option. Through design or accident, they are the only group of any real size that will take a minor."

"And then they wrap us in bubble wrap around villains and criminals, only to throw us at Endbringers as soon as they can talk the parents into it." I scowled. "I've got my own tailor made mentor. I don't need a half dozen from out of the bargain bin."

"Your mentor was a member of an elite kill squad. If you follow in his footsteps-"

"The villains all come down on my head, and I eventually die alone in a dark alley. Or the Protectorate eventually hunt me down for manslaughter, they bring up the months I've spent here and have me declared insane. Kangaroo court express to the Birdcage. I know. I know!" I cursed and resumed my pacing.

"In a bit more than two years you'll be eighteen, you could join the Guild then. Though it is very much the kind of work Archer wanted to spare you from. They do take a significant number of their targets alive, but just as often they are the ones carrying out kill orders."

"Doctor, isn't there supposed to be a good option? Something I can actually point to and say 'This is what's best for me'?" I, well I wasn't begging. But I might have been whining, just a bit.

"Sometimes all life gives us are bad options, Taylor. We just have to pick the best of the lot and keep moving."

"... Maybe. I don't know. I'd still rather just kick Armsmaster's ass."

"Do you really think you could? He's been a hero for a very long time. He has a lot of experience."

"What he has are a bunch of cheap ass tricks and a suit of power armor." I growled.

"Taylor, don't underestimate an opponent. The man is skilled and experienced."

"Damn it all, Shirou! Fine, maybe! Practice weapons, no reinforcing or power armor… I'd bet I could give as good as I got. He's bigger which means he has reach and power but I'd be faster and with weapons I just learn stupidly quick. I'm already damn good, I just need combat experience. If we both went all out… well he'd be dead, I don't really have much in the way of nonlethal past a certain point."

"Good, that's a much more honest assessment."

"Fuck you."

"American teenagers, no respect at all. Really, must you be so crass?" He teased.

"Go sit on a mace and spin." I was in no mood to be polite, especially not when he wasn't unconditionally on my side.

"Why do you care anyway, Doc. Do they give you a bonus if I join?" I grumbled.

"Hardly." She deadpanned. "Taylor, you're a good person. I'd hate to see you get in over your head when help is available to you."

"Doesn't feel like help. Feels like being a sellout."

"So, don't sell out. Milk them dry for every concession and advantage you can. Use them, just don't get yourself killed over a grudge, no matter how justified."

"... I don't know. My head says you're right, the rest of me wants to tell them to go to hell."

"Just think on it, Taylor. You don't need to decide anything right now. Just think about it."

"Yeah…Sure." I knew she had a point. Shirou seemed to think we could make it on our own. Though he admitted it would require leaving a lot of broken bodies in our wake. Dad would be a toss up. He was trying to support me as best he could, but he didn't know how, not with this. Odds are he would push hard to get me in the Wards if he had even half a clue what going solo would risk.

What the Doctor was saying made a lot of sense, but it was just so damn frustrating. It was like being right back in Winslow. Do what you're supposed to and let the people who screwed you get away with it. I was so damn tired of this song and dance.

"One last thing before we wrap up this session, Taylor."

"What now?" I groaned and plopped down onto the edge of my bed. I didn't want to deal with any more of this today. I felt exhausted enough already.

"I want you to stop launching weapons when you are frustrated." She, it wasn't an order but it was pretty close.

"What?"

Doctor Yamada sighed. "Lashing out with violence, even against an inanimate object can be a very unhealthy reaction to stress. Especially if it becomes your norm. It can be slightly desensitizing for you, and can be a sign of willingness to commit similar violence against people." She lectured calmly.

I flinched down in my seat and looked away.

"Taylor, I know that this is incredibly frustrating for you but you cannot lash out like that against people, and I would strongly suggest you not do so against even inanimate objects either. Especially not around other people. If I was anyone else, anyone less used to being in the same room as people with the power to utterly destroy me, that display of yours would likely have sent someone running."

"...Sorry, Doctor."

"It's alright. As I said, you are understandably frustrated and angry. But you need to find a less violent coping mechanism." She said kindly.

I didn't say anything for a moment but the butterfly knife I had discarded earlier caught my eye. Hesitantly I picked it back up and offered it up for inspection. "Something like this maybe?" I asked hopefully. It wasn't inherently violent, though it was still a weapon.

Doctor Yamada eyed me flatly for a moment before sighing lowly. "I suppose that is more acceptable. Though I'll have to insist you not brandish it at anyone, and that you limit yourself to a practice blade to limit any potential discomfort it might cause others."

I nodded energetically. I might be pissed off right now but that was no reason to scare people. And given where I was, I really couldn't afford anything that made me seem unstable.

{}{}{}{}

Laying on my back I stared up at the ceiling. I'd already trained for the day, and run through a dozen combat simulations with Shirou. I wasn't scheduled to meet with any of the Doctors and dinner wasn't for another hour. Dad would probably call sometime after dinner, but again that was a way off.

In theory I was supposed to be trying to fully understand one of the Noble Phantasms from the Unlimited Blade Works. But the process that was allowing me to learn Shirou's abilities seemed to simply not have progressed that far yet. I could understand the physical proportions. I could grasp the fighting style of the previous owners, could even understand the process that forged some of them. But that wasn't enough. A noble Phantasm was something more.

Or perhaps my connection to the Unlimited Blade Works just wasn't strong enough yet. I could find things in there if I knew what I was looking for, or even if I just knew what style of weapon I was looking for, but it wasn't natural or fluid the way Shirou described it. I didn't just instinctively grasp exactly the weapon I wanted unless I had already traced it dozens of times before. So, what was supposed to be some kind of meditation was really just turning into a lot of time to think about things I wanted to ignore.

The Doctor's advice about the Wards was foremost on that list. Shirou wasn't really happy about it either, but he was stupidly practical and thought it wasn't a bad way to kill time and gain experience while we tried to find a way to hit the power granting world eater we were actually after. He was also hopeful they might have information we could use to find the thing. I thought that was a bit of a long shot and that even if they did, I wasn't going to have access as a Ward, but he did have a point.

Everybody seemed to have a good point. Everyone except me. I knew life wasn't fair. I wasn't some idiotic idealist living in a fantasy world, but for my options to all be this shitty was just. Well I suppose it was par for the course really.

"Taylor?"

"Yeah, Shirou."

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about for a while now."

"Ok?"

"Why do you want to be a hero?"

"Seriously, is that all? The way you said that I was expecting something, you know, big."

"Look, just answer the question." He shot back with a bit of sulk in his tone.

"Fine, jeez it's not like it's some huge secret or anything." I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. "Growing up, it was everywhere, Shirou. The local Protectorate were on the news like clockwork. Their merchandise was everywhere. Do you have any idea how many little girls there are that dream of one day being exactly like Alexandria? My generation was raised on the cape culture.

"They spoon feed the stuff to us the same way they used to spoon feed kids the idea of the American dream and superiority to get them into the military. It's bullshit, but it's good bullshit because it's not exactly a lie. Just a lot of polish and some smoke and mirrors to cover up what they don't want you to think about. Join the Protectorate, travel the country, meet people dressing up in funny clothes, then throw them in jail. Don't worry about casualty rates, or Endbringers, or the dozens of fates worse than death that might just be waiting for you.

"And then when we get a bit older and we can look past the PR crap… Shirou they go and fight impossible battles to keep the rest of humanity from being crushed. It's terrifying and you want to call them crazy or insane, but you can't because they do it for you, and your family and everyone. How could anyone not respect that? I've got real power now Shirou. I'm a glass canon, I'm barely any tougher than the next human. But the kind of firepower in your Reality Marble might be enough to let me punch all the way into the big leagues. They put themselves on the line for people like me, even if they've never done me personally any damn good. How could I live with myself if I didn't pay that forward for the next generation the way they did for mine?"

"So, you're doing this out of a sense of duty?"

"Yes, no, maybe? It's... That's definitely part of it, but that's not all of it. Shirou I know you never got to really see my home town, but the place is falling apart. The gangs run half the city or more and it's all the heroes can do to keep them from getting the rest. I went to high school with more junior gang bangers then I could keep track of. The whole city is dying and they gangs are just getting fat off of the carcass while everyone else suffers.

"It pisses me off so much. Is that really the best people can hope for? Is that what the rest of the world will end up looking like if things keep going the way they are? I hate it, Shirou. I want things to change for the better for once. I want to be part of making that change." I said with conviction. And I meant every word of it. This was my world. I wasn't going to let some alien glutton eat it, and I sure as hell wasn't going to just sit back and let a bunch of selfish assholes pick it apart either.

Shirou was quite for a minute, but that suited me just fine. It had been a long time since I really stopped and thought about what the Protectorate actually meant. Not the bullshit they were forcing me to deal with, or all the crap that bogged down any large group of people. Just the idea they stood for. That group of crazy brave individuals that decided they were willing to put it all on the line for people they had never met before. I could respect that. I did respect that. It didn't make my list of grievances with them any shorter or less relevant, but it was a reminder of what they were meant to be. What they could be when the big threats reared their ugly heads. What I wanted to be.

It burned something deep inside of me trying to reconcile the two contradictory images of the Protectorate and PRT. The unjust imprisoners, and the brightest beacon we had against all the world's evils. With a snarl I rolled off of my bed and dropped to the floor.

Pushups. A bit of exercise might help clear my mind, and I hadn't done any yet today. Why waste gym time doing exercises I could do in my room anytime?

"It's a better reason then mine, I suppose." Shirou finally spoke back up.

Lowering myself back down to the floor I let my forehead rest against the cool linoleum as I tried to process just what the that could possibly mean.

"Shirou what are you talking about? Why are you really asking?" I glanced under the bed and noticed a throwing knife. Idly I reached out and grabbed it trying to remember when I had traced it, and how I had managed to lose it under my bed.

"...My adoptive father tried to be a hero." Shirou's tone was, weird. Realizing this was going to be a more serious conversation than I was expecting I leveraged myself up back onto the edge of my bed. "I don't really know a lot of the details, but from what little I do know, he always tried to save as many people as he could. He saved me from that fire. But something in me was broken after that, and frankly I think something in him was too."

"What do you mean?"

"He, gave up. He didn't go hunting Dead Apostles, or magi tampering with things better left alone. Instead he just did his best to raise me. And I, wasn't a normal kid. I was a bit apathetic and I latched onto my adoptive father's old dream, claimed it as my own. I would go out of my way to help people whenever I could, and dreamed of being a hero of justice." He sneered. "I obsessed over saving people so I might understand why saving me made him so happy. It eventually got me killed, you know. I was executed by some of the very people I had saved, but I didn't regret it even then."

"So, if you never resented them, or regretted it… why make such a big deal out of it now?"

"Because I willingly sold my soul to Alaya in exchange for power thinking after I died, I would be able to save even more lives. I thought it would be a continuation of my life's work, and she made me murder endlessly. Now here you are, learning from me, absorbing me, and holding on so fiercely to the same dream my father and I chased. I was worried I might end up leading you down the same naive path to ruin that I walked."

Yeah, I could see why he might be concerned when he put it like that. Still that wasn't my problem. Given just how much the heroes of justice were screwing me over I don't think I would ever be looking at the world with that kind of idealism. That mental image of the Protectorate as the shining beacon was an ideal, but I knew just how far short reality truly fell. It might be worth fighting for an ideal, trying to reach one, but I'd never believe in it so whole heartedly. I just couldn't.

"No need to worry about that, Shirou. The shine's all been worn away for me."

"Good, that's good. As long as you can go forward with your eyes wide open, I'm sure it will all work out."

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence as I toyed with the throwing knife I'd found under the bed.

"Err, Taylor? Is that the throwing knife from the first week here when you were actually trying to throw them for a few hours?"

"Yes! That must be how it ended up under my bed. A bunch of those bounced all over the place. Thanks, I was wondering how it got there. Was starting to drive me crazy."

"Taylor, use structural analysis on the knife." Shirou said with a kind of deadly calm.

"Uh, sure… I'm not seeing anything weird Shirou it's just a knife like any other knife I've ever traced."

"It hasn't degraded at all. Stupid, how did I miss this. Gaia and Alaya have had their influence almost completely blocked here, and even if it wasn't, you're on a mission from Gaia, she's not fighting to degrade our mage craft at all!"

"So, wait, doesn't that mean my traced weapons are, permanent? Or nearly permanent? Something like that." I'd only ever payed maybe half attention to Shirou's lectures on the finer points of mage craft and how Gaia and Alaya usually operated. None of it seemed particularly relevant given we were on our own here and dealing with capes instead of mages.

"Yes! And it also means traced Noble Phantasms should come out closer to the original."

"Wait… No loss in power? Or a lot less of a loss in power?" That was big, that was very, very big.

"That's what I'm thinking." Shirou response was laced with vicious glee and I felt my lips twitching up into an evil smirk.

It wasn't a game changer, but I wasn't going to turn my nose up at a significant power boost. I almost couldn't wait to get out of here and find a real threat to cut my teeth on.

{}{}{}{}

"Hey, Dad." I spoke into the phone and leaned against one wall of the little cubicle they let me sit in.

"Hey, Taylor. How are you doing?" Dad sounded tired. But that wasn't really anything new.

"I'm, frustrated, and angry. Really angry. Doctor's finally admitted I'm fine but I can't leave yet."

"That's, I don't understand?"

"Yeah. I don't really know all the details. All I can get are rumors and a bit of guesswork from the people who do know things. But some idiot is making a fuss about keeping me here to piss off some other guy who took an interest in some of the stuff Shirou might be able to explain about powers, and they dragged some big name politician into the mess. So now I'm stuck here under some kind of 'legal fiction' apparently."

"That's, is there anything I can do to help?" Dad asked sounding determined for the first time in… well a long time.

"Don't know. I'm not even sure who it is that's applying the pressure keeping me here. Don't know how you would go about getting them to back off either, but Doctor Yamada seems to think that it won't be enough to keep me here for too long. Though how long is too long when we're talking about politicians, I have no idea."

"Damn. I'm sorry, Taylor. I could try asking around but most of my contacts are in the mayor's office, and the police department. Nothing on a state level, let alone anything that might be out of state." Aaaand he was right back to sounding defeated. Great.

He needed something he could actually do. Chewing at my lip I mulled over a few things. With a sigh I gave into what was likely inevitable.

"Listen, Dad. There is something you could do to help me out."

"Yeah?" He asked sounding hopeful.

"Yeah, Dad. I, I want to be a hero when I do finally get out of here. And as pissed at them as I am Doctor Yamada has made some, really, really good arguments for the Wards rather than going solo or trying to get into some other team."

"Taylor,"

"I hate it." I spat cutting him off. "I absolutely hate it! But no one lasts forever solo, and I just, fuck! I don't want to join them, but I don't know what else I can do at this point, and I just…" I trailed off not knowing what else to say.

"Taylor, talk to me, what do you need from me? How can I help?"

"...Track down the standard Wards contract. Get in touch with anyone who might be able to give you an edge, a lawyer, the Youth Guard, parents of Wards through PHO maybe. Just, if I'm going to get pulled in after all of this shit they have put me through, I want to drag as many concessions out of them as we possibly can."

"That's what you really want to do?"

"No, I want to tell them to stuff it. But this is the smart thing to do."

"Then it's what we'll do. Any idea how long I have to work on this? Or what kind of concessions you want to get out of them?"

"I don't know, a few weeks, probably more. As for concessions… I don't know. Guess it depends on what the normal contract looks like?"

"We'll figure something out then. More than enough time for your old man to pull a few strings and start asking questions." I smiled slightly at Dad's joking tone. "Enough of that for right now though. How's your Archery practice been going? Ready to give Robin Hood a run for his money yet?"

"Heh, just about, yeah. The standing target is too easy at this point. I'm shooting moving disks out of the air now." I bragged lightly. The rest of the call dissolved into meaningless small talk, but it was a lot more positive than any conversation I'd had with Dad in recent memory.

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