Dads, Am I Right?

Gwen heaved up a bag of beans onto the kitchen countertop, putting it next to the grinding machine. She scooped as many beans as would fit into it and started turning the handle. Leslie Process always strongly preferred hand-ground coffee beans to any other way. It made it more artisanal, flavourful, more of a labour of love, he claimed. Gwen thought it made no difference, but it was easy work and she got paid for it, so she wasn’t complaining. She’d worked at Screamin’ Beans for about two weeks now and was getting the hang of the work. She occasionally glimpsed through the crack in the door leading to the front of the coffee shop to see if new customers had arrived, and kept her ears perked up for the sound of the bell.

Soon enough, the bell on the door jingled. A short girl with the hood of her Big High swim team hoodie up entered and stood by the counter.

"Hello?" called out a nervous voice that Gwen recognized.

Gwen’s ears turned into the direction of the voice. She couldn’t quite place the voice at first, with a few different faces floating through her head that she tried to match it to. She stopped grinding the beans and walked through the door to the front of the shop.

“Can I help you?” she said, looking at the customer with a smile. Gwen herself was wearing a black shirt and an apron with the Screamin’ Beans logo on it, most of her hair tied up in a bun, and the lightest bit of makeup on. Leslie had hired her partly because she looked like she lived off coffee, but looking tired despite not being it was not ideal for selling. “Oh, hi Ver--... At--? Hi!” She stumbled over her words in greeting the familiar girl, not certain what name was okay for her to use.

Atlanta tried to shrink deeper into her hoodie when she realized it was Gwen, but stopped when Gwen recognized her. Sighing, she pushed the hood off of her head. Her curls were wrangled into a messy braid, and dark circles sat prominently under red eyes. The younger girl looked considerably more disheveled than Gwen had seen her in either persona, except maybe after the fight yesterday. "Uh. Hi Gwen. It's Atlanta. I didn't realize you worked here."

“Oh! Okay,” Gwen grimaced upon noticing Atlanta’s dejected response. “Yeah, I started recently. Sorry. Were you trying to avoid me?” She bit her tongue, too late. She hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but she’d fired off too many in the past for her to not naturally be very tactless when it came to delicate situations with teammates. She shook her head as if in apology, and her ears lay flat against her head. “Ah, eh, anyway, what can I get you?”

"Just trying to avoid everyone today," Atlanta murmured, then cleared her throat and spoke up. "Do you have a ginger tea or something like that?" Of course she'd run into someone from the team here, what was she expecting? It was close to the base. But she couldn't just leave now; she didn't want Gwen to think she was mad at her. It was her first time skipping school, she was bound to make some mistakes, right?

“Yes,” Gwen responded, happy to move on. “We have ginger lemon, herbal ginger, and ginger and turmeric green tea. Honey is optional, and we got some snacks and sandwiches too.” She gestured at the glass case that had a variety of baked goods and pre-prepared sandwiches, staying cool for consumption.

"Ginger lemon sounds good, thanks." Atlanta pulls some money out of her pocket, then hesitates. "And I'm sorry." She sets the money on the counter and pulls her sleeves down over her hands.

“What are you sorry for?” Gwen asks, then holds up a hand as if to wave away the money. “Don’t worry about the money, this one’s on me. Yesterday was rougher on you than it was on me.” She turns away from the counter, turns on the kettle behind it, and starts to open up cabinets in search for the ingredients for the tea. Leslie Process preferred everything but the baking happening in sight of the customers, ‘so they can see the Process’.

Frowning, Atlanta looks up at Gwen as she looks for the tea. "Because I've been lying? To you and everyone. And with the rumors…you should be mad at me." As the other girl's back is turned, she stuffs the money in the tip jar.

The counter trembles as Gwen’s fist comes down on it. “How dare you,” she says to Atlanta, her face scrunched up, but looking more sad than angry. “How dare you apologize for keeping your identity a secret to protect your family? You’re not the only one on the team who’s done that, who still does that! I am just a dumb idiot from a family used to all this, so I never had the good sense to try and protect others by putting on a mask. Heck, I’ve got a hero name, but only one person uses it, and she’s the one who gave it to me!”

She takes a deep breath and visibly calms down, her shoulders relaxing. “And rumours? You mean the ones about you being a member of Gambite? I should sooner apologize to you than you to me. People thinking you’re on a team of villains is really shitty. You don’t deserve that.”

Atlanta flinches as Gwen hits the counter and resists the urge to apologize again. She shrugs halfheartedly at Gwen's last statement. "It's not like I could prove anyone wrong, even if I told everyone who I was. I don't blame anyone for believing GAIA. They're really smart, and they've been here a lot longer…even if it was Orbital the first time..." Hugging herself, she trails off. Not wanting to start crying again, she bites her cheek as she pretends to look at the pastries.

Gwen sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be mad at you. I mean… I’m not mad at you. In your shoes, I probably would’ve done the same thing. It’s… just a shitty situation. You shouldn’t have to fight blood-sucking ghosts just to keep your little brother safe, and your dad shouldn’t be pissed at you for trying to do the right thing.”

She pours the tea and puts the cup down in front of Atlanta, and shoves forward a small plate with some cookies on it. “I… can get riled up sometimes, even on behalf of others who don’t want to get angry about something. I’m sorry.” Gwen looks down at her hands, playing with the strings of her apron. “My father showing up there was a shock to me too, so… that had me doubting myself. Whether I was cut out for this. It’s… not the same, of course, but… I understand having complicated relationships with family.”

Atlanta takes the tea in both hands and breathes in the steam before answering. "I appreciate you being mad for me, Gwen. Or I will? When I stop being so scared…How are you holding up? With your dad showing up out of nowhere and Bloodshot being…your friend possessed. I can't imagine what that's like." She looks up from her tea to look at Gwen properly.

Gwen doesn’t meet Atlanta’s eyes at first, as she falls silent at the mention of Bloodshot. “Hey, do you want to sit down? We’ve got booths after all and it’s a slow day for me anyway.” She gestures to a spot by the window, looking back to Atlanta with a small, sad smile.

"Sure. I'd like that. Um. You don't need to talk about either of them if you don't want." Atlanta tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear and matches Gwen's smile.

Gwen makes a noncommittal gesture and walks around the counter to the booth, picking up a bottle of water for herself on her way. She plops down in the farther corner of the booth, letting her have a view of the door in case anyone else comes in. She adjusts the menu card stand and the pot of sugar on the table like it’s automatic. “I’m surprised at my father showing up, but not unhappy. It’s just that… throughout this past year, the one thing I’ve come to feel really certain of for myself is that I’m cut out for superhero work. That it’s meant to be what I’m doing. Others have doubted themselves or doubted me or the team, but after I came back from space, after I saved my girlfriend from being brainwashed by GREY, and after saving my father from this Hell-prison called Ferinon… I had no doubts about myself living this life, y’know? It’s natural. And then my father shows up again after months and puts on this weird act of both trying to be the big bad hero knight they’ve always been and trying to be a father at the same time, like I’m not cut out for this. Like I’m not ready to be independent. And… I guess if anything, if anyone could make me doubt myself like that, it’s my father. Even though they don’t mean to do that, it’s what they did. They’ve been in this kind of life since childhood, they know what they’re doing! I thought I knew what I was doing. I was always so sure of that.”

She slumps down--elbows on the table, hands on her cheeks--and sighs.

Sitting across from Gwen, Atlanta listens intently. The surprise is clear on her face when Gwen talks about not feeling cut out for this. Tentatively, she reaches out a hand for Gwen to take if she wants. "At the risk of sounding creepy, you're someone I've looked up to for a while, Gwen. Pre-Big Team, pre-accepting I have powers. I know -- I *know* -- there's nothing I can say to make those feelings go away, but I still look up to you. There's no one on the team who seems to fit into this life like you do." She hesitates and her eyes go wide. "Uh. At least that I've met! And like, I struggle all the time to balance everything and fail…Um…I guess what I'm trying to say is that I get your dad making you feel like what you're doing is wrong, and I don't know if it means anything, but I think you belong here." As she realizes just how much she said about admiring Gwen, her neck starts to flush. She looks down at her tea, hoping it came across as supportive and not weird.

The older girl sniffled a little. “Hah, thank you,” Gwen says, as she takes Atlanta’s hand. “I guess being a visible teen superhero was worth something after all. Whoever said representation doesn’t matter can stuff it,” she laughs at her own joke.

She puts her other hand on top of Atlanta’s, holding it with both of hers. “But really, thank you. A million people could boo me, but knowing my teammates believe in me… that counts for a lot more.”

Not quite knowing how to respond to that, Atlanta squeezes Gwen’s hand. She even musters up a smile. “Um. Yeah.”

Using her free hand, she takes a sip of tea and lets the silence sit there for a moment. She looks like she’s about to say something a few times, then stops. When she finally speaks, it all spills out quickly. “So, do you remember when I absorbed those magic bats and was glowing and couldn’t go home and you offered to let me stay with you at your giant house but then you got pulled away and I stayed with Ellen instead?”

Gwen grimaces and straightens up. “Yeah, I do.” She shakes off the mental image of herself in that nun’s habit, and the bleeding memorial plaque for Casper… which now she has no doubt about was caused by Bloodshot in a fit of dramatic irony.

“I was in questioning for longer than necessary that night. Anyway, why do you ask?” She lets go of Atlanta’s hand and takes a sip of her water.

Atlanta wraps both hands around her tea and stares down at it as she slowly continues. “So, uh…my dad…we talked last night. And he said if I didn’t quit, he’d pack us up and move to New York…and I…I said I wouldn’t go with him, and I wouldn’t quit. When he asked where I’d go, I said Melody offered to let me stay there, or I could stay at the community center, or at the base, or with you. It’s something I’ve had to think about before…but like, uh, I don’t want to just assume you’d let me stay? And I don’t know how big Melody’s place is, and Ellen already stays there, so uh…is that okay? For me to keep that as an option?”

Gwen frowns as Atlanta talks about her dad, but she cannot help her face from beaming like a lighthouse for a split second before she scrunches up her face trying to compose herself. “Well, uh… yes, of course. Naturally. I would not mind at all for you to come stay at my very big place. The Big Place, I call it. No, that’s stupid.” She shakes her head at herself. “But… yes, you are welcome to stay if you want to, if you need to. It is okay for you to keep that as an option.” She gives Atlanta a serious look, understanding the gravity of the situation, but she smiles a little. The thought of more people in the house warms her.

Atlanta can’t help but smile a little at Gwen’s excitement at the idea, but it falls away pretty quickly. “Thanks. I hope…I hope I don’t need it, but it makes me feel better to know.” Her breath catches in her throat as she tries to continue. “I just…Jasper.” She stops again and puts her face in her hands, but Gwen can clearly tell she’s about to cry. “Not again,” she whispers. Despite her exhaustion, she’d spent most of the night crying instead of sleeping. But her emotions keep sneaking up on her.

Gwen looks worried for Atlanta. She perks up, looking at the door to check if anyone’s coming in, then slides out of her side of the booth and sits down next to Atlanta on her side. She reaches for a paper napkin stacked neatly on a pile in a metal holder on the table. She hands it to Atlanta, while her other hand places itself on Atlanta’s shoulder, pulling her closer.

After a moment of hesitation, Atlanta leans into Gwen and accepts the napkin. It takes her a minute to get herself back under control. “Sorry, I just...he’s so important to me. I don’t want to lose him. And he’s already lost...I don’t want him to lose someone else. And I told Dad that if he did this, it was his fault, not mine...but I don’t know if Jasper will believe that…” She sighs and wipes her eyes with her hoodie sleeve. “I thought I’d feel relieved after knowing how Dad would react, but I feel just as scared as before.”

“Your dad’s being an idiot,” Gwen says almost reflexively, then thinks a moment. “But… maybe he’s being an idiot because he’s afraid. So afraid to lose you that he doesn’t see his own actions will make him lose you too. He’s not acting rationally. I hope your brother could see that it’s not your fault, but… it would still be hard on him if your father goes through with this. That fucking sucks. His attitude fucking sucks, and he should know better. Being a dad… being family means you gotta work to understand each other, instead of just going off at your daughter. Being overprotective never helped anyone. It would be his fault.”

Gwen is silent for a moment, gears spinning in her head. “And! *And* if he does move and take Jasper with him? Then we’ll just find out where they’re moving to and use our teleportation things and our spaceships and our fast cars to get you to meet with Jasper! Every week! No, every day!” With her free hand, Gwen makes a sweeping gesture, as if to show how far they can go.

Atlanta smiles at Gwen’s enthusiasm. Part of her doesn’t believe the team would do that for her, even if they knew she was Verve, but she didn’t think Gwen would share that opinion. “I think you’re right. That he’s scared. He talked a lot about how he’d be a terrible father for letting me put myself in danger…asking how he’s supposed to go out every day knowing his daughter is doing this kind of thing…besides, you know, being mad that I didn’t tell him before this…but at least he said he also wouldn’t kick me out, so I guess that’s something...”

“Not kicking you out is the bare minimum of decency,” Gwen says sternly. “Heck, Godspeed won’t kick anyone out of the Big Team, despite how much I know he wants some of us gone.” She looks down at the table, recalling that first meeting with Godspeed in the Big Team base. “He also talked a lot about the dangers we put ourselves in, but *he* wants to turn us into child soldiers. I think that is wrong, but I think your dad is also wrong. This is your choice to make. And yet…”

Gwen sighs. This next part was hard for her to admit. “And yet, the danger is a very real thing. This is not something that is right for everyone. Everyone should make that choice for themselves, but you should also be aware of the dangers involved. You’ve been on the team for a while now, you’ve seen some of the dangers we face, but yesterday was on a different level… Yesterday was *personal*. Yesterday showed you why you wear the mask, why you *should* wear the mask, if you are to continue this.”

She smiles and squeezes Atlanta’s shoulder gently. “From what I’ve seen of you in action, you hold yourself well, Atlanta. The fact that you stood up to your father for your own choices? I really respect that. It’s hard to fight against supervillains. It’s even harder to fight against close friends.” Her smile fades away and she looks mournfully.

Despite the obvious reference to Casper at the end, Atlanta can’t help but think through the other things Gwen said. Last night, she hadn’t hesitated when she said she wouldn’t quit Big Team, or that she wouldn’t go with him to New York. She can’t remember the last time she stood up to her dad at all, but about anything to do with powers? She doesn’t think she ever had before. And something she said to him comes back to her. She’s not a hero because she’s dangerous. She’s a hero because she wants to help people. And no matter what her father thinks, that *is* a good enough reason.

Atlanta shifts so she can get an arm around Gwen as well. Nothing good to say comes to mind, so she settles on, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

Gwen is silent for a little while, before she slowly takes in a deep breath. “Yeah,” she says. “Me too.”

They sit together in silence for a while, one another’s presence providing small comfort against what feels like darker days yet to come.