Chapter 24 of Dragon's Legacy (DL) (Patreon)

“Hey, Vicky!” called a voice.

Victoria Dallon turned towards the speaker, looking over her shoulder as she walked out of Buell Hall. It was Don, a friend of hers from Psych 212. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk, so she just waved and smiled, and kept walking.The sun was shining, and the early spring air was brisk in New York City. It was colder than Brockton Bay had been, even though it was further south. Sometimes, Vicky found herself still thinking back to her childhood home, and the nice micro-climate that came from the combination of Captain’s Hill and the Bay itself. She was headed back towards Broadway Hall, where her dorm was. It was only early in the afternoon, and classes were still going on, but she had a shift starting in her part-time job, and she wanted to get a move on. There was still snow on the ground as she walked across the stone bricks of college walk, passing the sundial and heading down towards the South Field. She would cut between Butler Library and Carman, and pop out on 114th Street, right next to her dorm.A couple cars were passing on the street as she made out it past the shadow of Columbia’s large campus, and back into the city streets proper. Vicky waited patiently for the cars to pass, and then walked over. She could have flown over the street, easily, but she was trying to not show off her powers these days. The City was much bigger than the Bay had been, and even though a lot of Columbia students knew that some Parahumans were attending university alongside them, it was vastly more private than her old life had been.Four years ago, she had been Glory Girl. A local celebrity. People knew her face, recognized her. Nobody would have cared too much if she just flew up over a street to avoid the traffic – or if she even carried a passenger or two while doing it!

But around here, with so many people, and so many Parahumans, it might have scared some of them. Plus, that anonymity was kind of enjoyable. Vicky might have been the brightest social butterfly in the scattered survivors of the Dallon and Pelham families, but even she could use some time off from being Glory Girl.She carded her way into the dorm, and took the elevator up to her room. She had a super-single apartment near the top floor, and thanks to her job, the University had caved and given her permission to use the roof. Not like all those other kids had permission when they inevitably snuck their way onto the roof, but hey, rooftops were important in the City. How else were you going to get some fresh air, up and over the rest of the sprawl?

Her shoes went on the shoe-rack, her bag went on a nearby chair, and Vicky Dallon let out an enormous sigh of relief as she sat down on her overstuffed couch and just breathed. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took in a long slow breath, and then exhaled in the same measured, precise manner. Good day today, Vicky thought to herself. Only one slip-up.It wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, monitoring her self-control and watching for her power’s influence on people. She hated it, actually. But it was important, for many reasons that she knew by heart, and didn’t want to think about.After a minute of just sitting there, decompressing in the comfort of her couch, Vicky stood back up, and went to change into her work clothes. She tossed aside the jeans and the hoodie, the casual camouflage of a college student that wanted to blend in, and pulled out the uniform of a superhero.A white undershirt, tight-fitting and athletic. A longer, long-sleeved shirt over top. Khaki-colored capri pants that came to her knees. Tight slip-on shoes, and black gloves. It was missing two things that she had really loved: the cape and the tiara. Sadly, the mid-thigh skirt that Vicky had loved was not as good of an idea in New York.

A very different look from her old ‘shining princess’ outfit, as her sister had once called it. Practical compromise was the order of the day, especially with the role of Parahumans shifting in the world. It was a more ‘street hero’ kind of look, but that was fine. More approachable, even – and appearing nice and approachable was important to her, now that New Wave was no more.She made her way out of her apartment, slipping on her communications headset as she opened the final door and walked out onto the roof.“This is Glory Girl, checking in,” she said, tapping the device to make sure it was working as she pushed off the ground without any conscious thought. “I know I’m a little early, but I’m at Broadway and 114th, and I’m ready to go.”“Glory Girl, this is dispatch,” came the tired voice of a man who sounded like he’d been on-shift for too long already. “Just got a report of an armed robbery at West Amsterdam Ave and 106th, Mama Pizza’s place.”“On it!” she said, turning south and throwing herself forward.The wind whipped past her, barely noticeable as it ran into her shield. Some of it bled through, just enough for her to breathe and to ruffle her hair. It sometimes felt like the world itself was affectionately tickling her chin when she flew, and it was one of many reasons that she loved flying.Vicky counted the streets as the rows of buildings blurred beneath her. She followed the street grid with an almost religious devotion, mostly because even after years here, she still didn’t have the instinctive knowledge that the locals did. Six streets. Seven. Eight. Then a quick turn to her left, over to Amsterdam. She descended quickly, and spotted the robbers almost instantly. They were already out the door, having taken less than half a minute.

There were three robbers in total, wearing what looked like rubber masks over their faces, and carrying pistols and a backpack full of cash. A quick smash and grab, hitting the cash register and leaving as fast as possible.

They were running east, headed for an alleyway. If she had to guess, they’d ditch the masks, change their jacket for different ones, change the backpack, and then slip into a building or out a different alley entrance, and blend back into the crowd like nothing ever happened.

In the old days, Vicky would have slammed down ten feet in front of them, and made a show of it. Intimidation was the name of the game, emphasizing how invincible she was. Alexandria Junior, that was what they called her… and sometimes, that’s what she had wanted to be.

Not anymore. The old tactic had always driven her Mom crazy, and it had only worked so long as people knew her, and ‘knew’ that shooting her was pointless. Neither of those things were true anymore, and she had to adapt to it. If she scared some punk too much, he’d keep pulling the trigger until her shield had dropped and the next bullet hit her face, all without realizing it.“Dispatch, Glory Girl. I’ve got them in sight,” she said over the headset, as she took the corner over the alleyway, cutting ahead of the robbers as they turned into the alley.The dispatcher didn’t say anything, which she appreciated. Sometimes she got a new guy on the phone, and he liked to micromanage her. The experienced ones understood that she could handle it, and that she needed to focus in these moments.She waited a few moments more, as they ran deeper into the alley. Just enough that if any of them pulled the trigger on their gun, it would hit the bricks instead of a potential bystander on the street.Glory Girl hit the asphalt less than a foot in front of the robbers. She didn’t smash into it with enough force to shatter the ground, but instead, just enough to bring a gust of wind with her. It stunned them for a moment – the sudden appearance of a Hero in their midst, the burst of wind. Then she hit them like a freight train.The first robber ran into her fist. His eyes were still widening, but he hadn’t slowed down as Vicky punched him in the chest with a very careful amount of force: light. Very light. With her forcefield, it was still strong enough to drop him instantly. Stepping to the side, Vicky hit the second robber with a cross-body hook. She went even softer on this punch, and then she made up for that by laying it across his jaw. The man’s head whiplashed, and he slumped.Vicky turned back to the third robber, and saw him aiming a Glock at her with wide eyes and a shaking hand. He was just two feet away, more than close enough for her to absorb the first shot and disarm him before the second.“Don’t shoot,” she warned him, with a conversational voice. “Don’t you do it.”The man swallowed, and his eyes darted between her and his pistol. He didn’t recognize her, and she couldn’t rely on her reputation any more… but after a moment, he slowly lowered the gun and set it on the ground, hands raised.“Dispatch, this is Glory Girl,” Vicky said into her headset. “Three perps arrested. We’re about twenty yards east of the intersection, on 106th. First alley. Can you send a pickup?”“Thank you, Glory Girl,” the dispatcher told her. “NYPD’s already en route. I’ll update them with your status. No other calls at this time, but stay on station.”“I’ll do that, dispatch,” she replied. Vicky picked up the Glock and removed the magazine and the round in the chamber. The entire time, she watched the last goon carefully as he took a step back. “If you run, I’m going to have to beat you up,” she warned him as she stuck the empty weapon in her back pocket for evidence. “How about we don’t do that?”The robber hesitated, glancing at his two buddies. The first of them was still on the ground, clutching his chest and sucking wind. Vicky wasn’t worried. She hadn’t broken his ribs – she knew what that felt like on her fists. He was just stunned. A phrenospasm, nothing more. The second guy was unconscious, and she’d have to wake him up in a moment.

Either way, it was pretty clear what would happen to the final member of the Tres Amigos if he decided to run. He raised his hands in the air, and didn’t move.Vicky gathered the other firearms and started zip-tying their wrists, keeping the three of them close together. After that, she woke up the unconscious man.

The police arrived quickly, which wasn’t a surprise. The closest precinct was just six blocks away on 100th. The uniformed men slapped their own cuffs on the robbers as a precaution, took a statement and the firearms from Vicky, took a statement from the pizzeria staff, collected some security camera footage, and got a case number from her dispatcher. A few minutes later, it was all wrapped up.Vicky floated in the air, and smiled as the police car drove off with the Three Stooges in the back. Crime didn’t pay, indeed.

Dispatch was quiet, so Vicky flew slowly, moving towards the center of her patrol zone, thinking about the arrest. It was a normal arrest, sure, but she was feeling melancholic, and that always made her introspective.

It was a very different style of superhero work than she had done in the Bay, but it was the best option she had, really.There was no New Wave anymore. No easy contacts with the Brockton Bay Police Department. No understandings between her and the Protectorate.

And, perhaps most importantly, there was no Carol Dallon, singlehandedly covering all the legal work needed to be an Independent Hero team.

For the past four years, Vicky had tried not to think about her Mom. Not because she had been a bad mother – far from it – but because Vicky had taken her mother for granted for all that time… and it was only after she was gone that Vicky started to realize exactly why Brandish of New Wave didn’t patrol nearly as much as the others. Her mother had done four jobs every single day. A full time lawyer for New Wave, a part-time lawyer for her firm, a mother taking care of two daughters and her husband, and a Hero last of all. It had made her short-tempered, and sometimes harsh, but Vicky had always known that her Mom did it out of love. But once her Mom was gone… that’s when all the issues started piling up.

Legal cases about use of force. Medical malpractice claims against Amy. Lawsuits over every possible issue that could be thrown at them. New Wave had never exactly been ‘rich’, but they’d been well off, and when the Bay was condemned, a number of the now homeless Brocktonites had suddenly decided to get their share out of New Wave, one bite at a time.

It had been a scary time. The Protectorate was apologetic, and tried to help, but they were dealing with Armsmaster’s resignation, the aftermath of Leviathan, the Slaughterhouse Nine, Bonesaw’s leftover presents… it had been too much for anyone to handle. Anyone except her Mom, even after her death.Dad had always struggled with his depression, but when the lawsuits started rolling in, he changed. He bullied his way from the refugee camp outside of town back into Brockton, and had emerged from their abandoned house with a thick stack of binders, each one labeled with hardcopy notes.Emergency protocols, he called them. Leftover from the early days of the Brockton Bay Brigade… and updated over the years by their mother. Vicky remembered the look on the faces of their newly hired lawyers when her Dad had pulled those binders out. They were meticulous. What to do in case of a lawsuit over excessive force. Why Amy’s work at the hospitals had to be pro-bono until she was eighteen years old. How to juggle everything from tax breaks to jurisdiction to custody matters. The exact sequence of legal procedures and next steps that Carol Dallon would have done to execute her master plan, one by one, until it was complete.It was her way of meditating, Mark Dallon had told his two daughters. The nights when she couldn’t sleep, their Mom had spent them working on how to solve any potential legal issue. Whenever she finished a subject, she had gathered up the research and filed it away in a binder, nice and neat.Her mother hadn’t been the kindest woman. Amy still had some resentment about that, and maybe that was fair. But she had loved them all, and she’d just had a hard time showing it. Everything after the Slaughterhouse had been hard, and Vicky wasn’t ashamed to admit that. But they’d persevered. When everything looked bad, her Dad had taught them how to handle the same depression that he had.“It’s really simple,” she remembered him saying, as he hugged her and Amy. “You just find something worth living for. And that’s you two. That’s what I’ve always thought. And that’s what your mother thought.”Thanks to her Mom, Victoria Dallon was able to be an independent Hero, accredited and affiliated with the Protectorate, rather than dealing with lawsuits about her emotional influence. She did shifts, got paid, and was protected from all the potential downsides. She even had time for Columbia, and a normal social life. Thanks to her Mom, Amelia Dallon could sell her healing abilities on the market, and enjoy years of tax exemption thanks to an eye-watering amount of tax loopholes that her mother had manipulated with all that pro-bono work. Amy insisted on paying for everything and anything that New Wave needed – Vicky, Mark, the Pelhams, anyone – and Vicky knew that at least part of that was Amy’s own way of trying to live up to what her Mom had done for her.I just wish I still had Mom around, Vicky thought to herself, as she floated in place over St. Johns. I’d give it all up, just to have her back.

More than an hour later, she had just finished giving a statement to a police officer about a mugging she saw. “Glory Girl, my shift’s ending,” her dispatcher informed her as she flew back up into the sky. “Your new dispatcher will take over in a moment.”“Thanks, dispatch,” she said, pressing a hand to the headset. “Have a nice night.”“You too,” the man said, before disconnecting with a click.Vicky hovered in place above the intersection, waiting for the next call to come in. The City was nice from up here, and she really understood why so many people wanted the highest apartments, just so they could look out and see this view whenever they wanted.“Glory Girl, are you there?” a man’s voice said over the headset. He sounded kind of familiar, in a way. “This is your new dispatcher. How do you read me?”“I can hear you just fine, dispatch,” she said. “Where do you need me?”“Ah, I don’t know yet,” the man’s voice said with a laugh. “Give it a minute, someone’s gonna do something stupid. It’s New York, baby.”What did he just say? Vicky thought to herself, blinking in surprise. She glanced down south, towards Manhattan, where the central office was located. She had never heard a dispatcher act so casually before. They were professional and focused, not – not jokey and nonchalant, acting like they knew her personally. “Come on, GG, you don’t recognize me?” the dispatcher asked, still with that warm tone. She could almost see the man’s smile, even with his mask on.The dots connected, and Vicky surged higher in the air in shock – an old reflex that Aunt Sarah had drilled into her, so she never crashed when she was surprised.“Assault?!” Vicky demanded, a wild smile spreading across her face.“You know it, Glory Girl!” the old veteran from Brockton Bay replied, laughing over the line.

Vicky laughed with Assault, loud and free in the open sky, and she couldn’t stop herself from grinning madly, even if nobody could see her.“I didn’t know you were coming to town!” she said – before pausing, and reluctantly getting serious for a moment. “Hey, I love this, but if we get a call, we gotta work, okay?”“Damn, GG,” Assault chuckled. “I heard you changed, but now I’ve really seen everything. A professional, responsible Glory Girl. Don’t worry, I can handle business and pleasure at the same time. I’ll keep you in the loop, all the way.”“Thanks,” Vicky said softly, before raising her voice again. “And don’t you look twice, I can drink now, legally even! You’re talking to the mature adult Victoria Dallon. The new, improved version!”Assault laughed, and Vicky grinned at the sound.

She hadn’t actually been that close to the Protectorate Hero back in the Bay. The city was too big, and their areas of responsibility were too far apart. New Wave had cooperated with the Protectorate, but crime-fighting wasn’t like the comic books, and they didn’t have big team ups and coordinated fights against Villains. It had been lots of boring patrolling, and only rarely would a Villain be dumb or unlucky enough to run into both of their teams at the same time.

But that had changed, along with so many other things, after Leviathan attacked. The chaos of the city after the power grid got damaged, after the utilities got spotty… guarding the refugee camps, striking back against the gangs… surviving the Slaughterhouse.

It had been horrible, and sometimes Vicky still felt guilty about the fact that she had survived, when so many others hadn’t… but that was no way to live her life. Her Mom wouldn’t have wanted Vicky to live that way, and she would have been loud about it. Vicky didn’t remember who had come up with the idea, but now, every living Hero from the Bay kept in touch with each other, even Armsmaster. They texted, emailed, called, and sometimes visited. It was the only way that many of them could let their hair down, by being around someone else who actually got it, and who understood what it had been like.“What are you doing here?” Vicky asked Assault, shaking her head. “I thought you were out on the West Coast still. How’s Battery doing?”“Oh, she’s gonna be doing horrible soon,” Assault groaned, with a theatrical sigh. “Stomach pains, and headaches, and nausea, and don’t even get me started on the taste change!”“What?” Vicky asked, tensing up. “What happened?”“It’s not about what happened, GG, it’s about what’s going to happen,” Assault told her. “She’s visiting your sister right now, to make sure everything’s good.”“Good!” Vicky said, relief flooding through her. “Amy can fix anything. She’ll make sure Battery doesn’t have to suffer any of that stuff.”“Really?” Assault asked, sounding surprised. “Damn! But what will that do to the baby?”“…baby?” Vicky repeated.

A millisecond later, the realization struck her like a bullet, so hard that she almost dropped her forcefield and fell out of the sky.

“She’s pregnant?!” Vicky shrieked, her eyes widening as she screamed in the empty air. “You jerk, why didn’t you just say that?”Laughter boomed over the radio in reply.“But you’re a mature adult now,” Assault replied gleefully, still chuckling as he did. “And where’s my congratulations, anyway?”“Congratulations?” Vicky repeated, putting on an act of being scandalized. “Why? Battery’s going be doing all the hard work!”“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Assault said, with a snicker. “I was a pretty important part of it. Dare I say, even… pivotal?”Vicky laughed. Up there in the sky, with the best possibly view, hearing from an old friend, all the stress felt like it was melting away, and she was free of any chains. All that guilt, all those regrets… they were nothing, nothing at all compared to this feeling.“So yeah, Battery’s finally decided to settle down,” Assault said. “I’m still doing part-time work, but being a dispatcher is a little easier on my time. Let’s me use all my accumulated knowledge to help out you poor little newbies, and still kick back a bit. I’ll be splitting time between this, and doing whatever she needs. Meanwhile, she can get the best healthcare in the world from Amy.”“Battery’s got you wrapped around her finger,” Vicky teased, ignoring the drop in her stomach at the mention of Amy. “I see some things don’t change.”“Some things do change,” Assault said, still with a lightness in his voice. “Who would’ve ever thought that we’d change, huh? You learned to stop smashing buildings, I learned how to be responsible, Battery learned to slow down, and Amy learned how to charge money for healing.”“She’s not charging you, is she?” Vicky asked, stiffening in mid-air. “No, no,” Assault dismissed. “Friends and family discount. I’m surprised, though. I thought she would have told you already?”“I live in the dorms,” Vicky said. She couldn’t keep her voice up, and the words came out flat. “College rules, y’know.”Assault made a pleasant humming sounds, and Vicky winced. He wasn’t buying it.The truth was more… complicated. She didn’t want to explain it. Not to Assault, and definitely not over the radio while she was still on the clock. Hell, she didn’t want to say it to anyone.

She could still remember that day, in the ruins of their house in Brockton Bay. It was just after Taylor had ended the Slaughterhouse Nine. The horrible words, the realization.“Vicky, I’m in love with you.”All those years of growing up with Amy at her side. All those months with Vicky’s aura on full blast. All those moments, now… tainted, irrevocably. She couldn’t think of many of those old memories without wincing. Mom was dead, and Amy was poisoned. Even now, when they hung out, Vicky had to act like Amy was a whole new person, and not her oldest friend and her dear sister.

How much of her sister’s problems had been caused by Vicky, and her carelessness? Sometimes, it felt like everything. Like the entire world, even beyond their family, had been messed up by Vicky. That wasn’t any way to live, and they’d agreed on that.

So now, Amy lived down in Pine Street, and Vicky lived in the dorms. It was a small distance, but more importantly, it was a small way of showing that they could both still change. That they could grow up separately.

Sometimes, Vicky worried that it wasn’t working at all.

It took a moment to swallow the lump in her throat.“We all have to grow up some time,” Vicky said to Assault over the radio, her voice a little hoarse from emotion. “And I guess now it’s finally time for you.”A moment later, Assault laughed again, and the gloomy mood lifted from Vicky’s shoulder.Life wasn’t perfect… but these days, Vicky knew that it could get better.