Chum

The trek to the Music Hall is a familiar one by now, my feet carrying me almost on autopilot as my mind churns over the events of the day. The weight of what we're up against, the sheer scale of it all… it's overwhelming. But I can't let it paralyze me. Can't let it stop me from doing what needs to be done.

As I round the corner into the alley behind the Hall, I'm surprised to see Maggie already there, going through some kind of stretching routine next to the dumpsters. Tasha's there too, perched on a milk crate, her nose buried in what looks like an anatomy textbook. They both look up as I approach, Maggie waving cheerfully.

"Hey Sam! You're just in time for training," she calls out, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I was just warming up."

"I can see that," I say, eyeing the small patch of dirt she's claimed as her personal gym. "Very professional setup you've got here."

She grins, unabashed. "Hey, you work with what you've got, right? Not all of us have access to fancy DVD training facilities."

"Fair enough," I concede, dropping my bag next to Tasha's impromptu study corner. "What's with the sudden interest in anatomy?" I ask her, nodding at the book in her hands.

Tasha marks her page and sets the book aside, shrugging. "Figured if I'm going to be patching you guys up all the time, I might as well know what I'm doing. Plus, you know, med school someday."

I nod, impressed. "Smart. Maybe you can give me some pointers on how to avoid getting shot in the first place."

"Step one: Don't get shot," she deadpans.

"Wow, thanks. Super helpful."

Maggie giggles, then claps her hands together. "Okay, enough chit-chat. Let's get to work! What's on the training agenda for today, sensei?"

I raise an eyebrow at the "sensei" bit but let it slide. "I thought we could work on some judo today. Figured it'd be good for us tiny girls to know how to throw around people bigger than us."

"Oooh, fun!" Maggie says, bouncing again. "Where do we start?"

"Well, I thought we'd go over some basic stances and how to fall without hurting yourself. Then maybe move on to some simple throws and holds. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!"

"There are all sorts of additional things you'll want to avoid, if you grapple frequently," Tasha chimes in. "Joint hyperextensions primarily, but also compressive injuries."

"See, this is why we keep her around," I say to Maggie in a stage whisper. "She's like our own personal WebDoctor."

Tasha rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile as she picks her book back up.

The next hour or so passes in a blur of sweat, laughter, and the occasional yelp of pain as Maggie and I work our way through the basics of judo. It's awkward at first, both of us self-conscious and unsure. But as we settle into a rhythm, the movements start to feel more natural, the throws more fluid. It's almost meditative, in a way. A chance to focus on something physical and immediate, to let the rest of the world fall away for a little while.

During our first water break, Maggie flops down next to Tasha, panting. "So," she says between gulps of water. "How'd the big meeting with the DVDs go? Did they freak out about the whole undercover mission thing?"

I shrug, taking a swig from my own bottle. "Some of them did. Clara, mostly. Bulwark too, but for different reasons."

Maggie frowns. "What reasons?"

I sigh, trying to find the right words. "Bulwark's… he's got a very black and white view of things. Bad guys are bad, good guys are good, and there's no in between. He thinks we should just storm in and take down the Kingdom, consequences be damned."

"But we can't do that, right?" Maggie asks, looking worried. "I mean, we don't even know what they're planning."

"Exactly," I say, nodding. "Which is what Davis and Crossroads were trying to get through to him. We need more info before we can make a move."

Tasha looks up from her book, her expression pensive. "Clara's not wrong though, about the legal side of things. If any of this gets out, if Richardson has a way to legally retaliate… it could get messy fast."

I frown, not liking the sound of that. "Messy how?"

Tasha shrugs. "Obstruction of justice, for one. Vigilantism. Maybe even treason, if they can spin it right."

"Treason?" Maggie echoes, her eyes wide.

"I mean, probably not," Tasha says quickly. "But my point is, we're operating in a real grey area here. Legally speaking."

I nod slowly, chewing on that. It's not like I haven't considered the legal ramifications of what we do. I just don't like hearing it out loud.

"Well," I say finally, standing up and brushing the dirt off my pants. "I guess we'll just have to be extra careful then. No one finds out, no one gets in trouble. Simple as that."

Maggie and Tasha exchange a look, but neither of them argue.

We get back to training after that, moving on to some basic throws and holds. I demonstrate the moves first, walking Maggie through each step. Then it's her turn to try, with me acting as her practice dummy. It's a strange feeling, being on the receiving end of these techniques. Even though I know Maggie's not going to hurt me, there's still a moment of instinctive panic as I feel my balance tip, my feet leave the ground. But I force it down, letting my body go loose and flowing with the motion. After a few reps, Maggie starts to get the hang of it, her moves becoming smoother, more confident.

As we work, we fall into an easy conversation, our words punctuated by the slap of hands on fabric, the thud of bodies hitting the mat.

"So," Maggie says, her face scrunched in concentration as she tries to replicate a particular throw. "What do you think is going to happen with Richardson? Now that she's on the City Council…"

I grunt as I hit the mat, then roll to my feet. "Honestly? I don't know. But whatever it is, it won't be good."

Maggie nods, wiping sweat from her brow. "Have you noticed all the extra police around lately? Especially in my neighborhood?"

I frown, thinking back. Now that she mentions it, I have seen more cop cars patrolling the streets, more officers walking the beat. "Yeah, actually. I figured it was just because of the election."

Maggie shakes her head. "I don't think so. I heard my dad talking about it the other night. Apparently crime's been way up, especially in the poorer parts of town. Lots of Jump-related stuff."

"I've heard stories," Tasha chimes in, looking up from her book again. "From my parents, mostly. Apparently some neighborhoods are getting really bad. Like, warzone bad. Hasn't hit our suburbs yet, mostly Northwest. Maybe it would be worthwhile to go do some charity…"

My stomach twists at that. Warzone. In our city. It seems unthinkable. But then again, a lot of things have seemed unthinkable lately. And yet here we are.

"G-d," I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. "Okay, well… I guess that's one more thing to look into."

"You think the Kingdom's involved?" Maggie asks, her eyebrows raised.

"I think at this point, it'd be weirder if they weren't involved somehow," I say grimly.

There's a moment of heavy silence as we all digest that. Then Maggie claps her hands together, forcing a bright smile. "Okay, enough doom and gloom. What's next on the training agenda, boss?"

I push aside thoughts of drugs and crime and shadowy conspiracies, forcing myself to focus on the here and now. "Right. I thought we could try incorporating your powers into some of these moves. See how we can use them to our advantage in a fight."

Maggie's eyes light up at that. "Ooh, yes please! I've been dying to try out some new tricks."

The next chunk of time flies by as Maggie and I workshop different ways to combine judo with her repulsion fields. It's equal parts frustrating and exhilarating, the two of us getting creative as we problem-solve on the fly. At one point, Maggie tries using her fields to enhance a throw, only to send me flying halfway across the alley. We both freeze for a second, wide-eyed, before bursting into hysterical laughter.

"Holy crap," Maggie gasps out between giggles. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry!"

I pick myself up off the ground, still chuckling as I dust myself off. "I'm fine, I'm fine. But maybe dial it back a notch next time, yeah? At least until we've got a bit more control."

"Yeah, good call," Maggie says, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"While we're on the subject, though," I say, turning a bit more serious. "We should probably have a talk about power use in combat. Specifically, how much force is appropriate to use and when."

Maggie sobers up at that, nodding slowly. "Right. Because we don't want to accidentally really hurt somebody. Or… or worse."

My stomach twists in a way that I can't tell if it's good or bad or not. It just twists. Like a wrung towel.

"I just keep thinking," Maggie says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "About how easy it would be to just… to squeeze someone's head. With my fields. Like a grape."

I find my lips curling upwards but force them down. "Don't do that," I say, just loud enough to be heard.

"I know," she says quickly, shaking her head as if to dislodge the thought.

"You are not your powers," I tell her, my voice firm but gentle. "You are in control. You decide what to do with them, not the other way around."

We take a break after that, all of us needing a moment to decompress. Maggie flops down next to Tasha, stretching out her legs with a groan.

"Ugh, I am going to be so sore tomorrow," she complains, flexing her fingers. "How do you do this every day?"

I shrug, plopping down on her other side. "You get used to it. And also, lots of ibuprofen."

Tasha snorts at that, marking her page and setting her book aside. "You know, as your unofficial team medic, I feel like I should probably discourage the rampant use of over-the-counter painkillers."

I wave a hand dismissively. "Noted and ignored. My body, my choice."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Then Maggie sighs, picking at a loose thread on her sweatpants.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," she says quietly, not looking at either of us. "The whole 'secret hero' thing. It's starting to affect my school work, my relationships… everything."

I nod, understanding completely. It's a balancing act, one that I struggle with every damn day. How to be a hero and a student and a daughter and a friend, all at the same time. How to save the world without letting your own life fall apart in the process.

"I get it," I say, just as quietly. "Believe me, I do. But Maggie… what we're doing here, it's important. It matters."

"I know," she says, her voice small. "I do, I just… I don't want to disappoint anyone. My parents, my teachers… you guys."

"You could never disappoint us," Tasha says firmly, reaching over to squeeze Maggie's knee. "We're a team, remember? We've got your back, no matter what."

Maggie gives her a grateful smile, but I can still see the worry in her eyes.

"And hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling," I offer, bumping her shoulder with mine. "My parents are constantly on my case these days. 'Where are you going, what are you doing, why are you coming home covered in bruises all the time?'."

"Oh god, same," Tasha groans, tipping her head back. "Except mine think I'm out doing God-knows-what with my 'troubled friend Kate'."

My stomach clenches at the mention of Kate. I've been trying not to think about her too much, about the vicious, desperate way she came at me during our last fight. I push the thought away, focusing back on the conversation at hand. "Yeah, well. I think my parents have kind of accepted at this point that they can't stop me from doing this. Doesn't mean they're thrilled about it, but…"

"But they get it?" Maggie suggests, glancing at me.

I nod, breathing out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. Or at least, they're trying to."

We lapse back into silence after that, each of us turning over our own anxieties and frustrations. The secret life of a teenage superhero, I think wryly. It's not all glamour and glory, that's for damn sure.

After a few more minutes, I haul myself to my feet, groaning as my muscles protest. "Alright, break time's over. Let's run through a few cool-down stretches and call it a day."

Maggie and Tasha follow suit, and soon we're all in a loose circle, moving through a series of gentle stretches. As we do, I can't help but let my mind wander back to the meeting with the DVDs, to the daunting task ahead of us. Taking on the Kingdom, trying to unravel their plans… it's going to take all of us working together, pooling our resources and knowledge.

And probably more gunshots. Let's be honest with ourselves.

We toss around a few more ideas as we finish up our stretches, bouncing thoughts off each other and refining our plan of action. By the time we're done, I'm feeling marginally better about our chances. Still daunted, still scared shitless if I'm being honest. But less alone in it all.

As we gather up our things to head our separate ways, Maggie pauses, looking at me with a serious expression.

"Hey Sam? Thank you. For today, for… for everything. I know I can be a bit of a mess sometimes, but… I'm really glad you're my friend."

I feel a warm glow in my chest at her words, a rush of affection for this brave, kind-hearted girl. "I'm really glad you're my friend too, Mags."