Wretched Joy 40 (Patreon)

Commissioned by southmonk

Wretched Joy

Chapter 40

-VB-

Brockton Bay felt so different. 

With half of the city effectively under Everyday Joe’s control via his Nightmare Circles and his promise to repeat his Rampage all over again “should it prove necessary,” the city had calmed down. 

No.

It hadn’t “calmed” down.

The city accepted his rule..

And that, more than anything, felt like a cop out to Missy.

With the majority of the PRT and Protectorate adults, she only felt a lack of respect. Whatever else she had felt before, they were gone. When she looked at them now, she only felt … disdain. 

And all of it made her realize something horrible. 

What Joe did was right, as horrible as that sounded. 

“Missy?” 

She looked up and looked back down.

“Hi, Gallant.”

The little shine he had was also gone. He didn’t look like a knight in shining armor anymore to her. He was just Dean, a regular teenager. He didn’t … wasn’t…

She sighed. 

She was having a lot of internal conflicts lately.

“Am I going to become a goth at this rate?” she grumbled out.

Dean sat down next to her. “What’s this about?”

“Me feeling disappointed in all of you,” she drawled out, sliding down the couch. “The PRT and Protectorate know that Joe won’t kill them, but they didn’t even bother to try. All they did was run damage control. Is that what we are, Dean? Are we the country’s masked damage control? Are we the caped plumbers and electricians?”

He opened his mouth but nothing came out for a moment. He, too, sighed. “Things are complicated.”

“Maybe if you’re an adult,” she grumbled again. “But it looks pretty straightforward to me.”

“But people remember, don’t they?”

She looked up.

“Remember what?”

“People remember who hurt them, and other people remember who they saw hurting other people. Adults have responsibilities, so they can’t afford to go around… being direct and blunt.”

“Yeah? And? That sounds like an excuse to me because Nazis, big ass dragon, and drug pushers were everywhere and they barely did anything either. Remind me how many times Cricket got arrested before Joe showed up?”

“... Nine.”

“Yeah. Nine. She should have been gone after the first. She should have been escorted out of the city with a heavy guard on the second. She should have been executed by PRT after the twentieth PRT officer she killed,” she gritted out. “But what did we do? We keep letting them out.”

“You know it’s more complicated than that. Even if they are criminals, they also show up to Endbringer fights.”

Missy hated that fact. So many villains used the Endbringers as a shield to keep themselves afloat even when they shouldn’t be able to otherwise. It was a hostage situation where the villains held their home nation hostage. 

It was fucked up.

Then a siren rang. 

She froze before immediately jumping to her feet. 

Her heart started to pound in her chest and ears. 

A shrill sound that was different from a hurricane siren. A deep and rumbling cry that cut through every noise like an earthquake almost. 

An Endbringer Siren. 

Even as her heart pounded and her stomach dropped, Missy felt something. 

A resolve. 

Could she…?

She took a deep breath in. 

If she went to an Endbringer battle, then could she be able to say more and will people take her more seriously? 

She knew that she was strong. Joe acknowledged that. 

And if she was strong, then she could survive it at least, right? 

“Missy, no!” 

She turned to look at Dean, who was also on his feet now, and he looked horrified. 

“I have to,” she replied. 

Because as much as justice and righteousness was what she wanted, neither worked without power and respect. Joe had all of it, even if it was more fear than respect and vengeance more than justice. 

So too needed to get more power than just her cape power. She needed that something to come over her age disadvantage, because even after everything she did, they still treated her like a kid. 

As if talking to “Joe Row” criminals wasn’t enough. As if having served for close to five years wasn’t enough. As if all of the work she’s done wasn’t enough. Just because she wasn’t an adult. 

“I’m going.”

“Missy, no,” Dean hissed. 

She turned to look at him.

All she saw was worry.

And she appreciated that, even if she also hated it. Was it because she was too young or because he genuinely cared for her? She wanted to believe it was because he cared for her and that age didn’t have anything to do with it in his head. After all, he wasn’t that much older than her. 

“I’m going, even if I am not fighting in the frontlines,” she replied. “I can get people in and out far more quickly,” she replied before demonstrating exactly that by taking a step and appearing on the other side of the Wards common room’s exit. “See?” 

And then she waved her hand over the door access control, making it open. The second there was an open, she expanded the space for her to walk through. And she took a step forward. 

Then she was gone from his sight again. 

She heard Dean calling out to her as he quickly put on a mask and chased after her, but he wasn’t going to be fast enough to stop her. 

She zipped through the entire PRT ENE headquarters until -.

She froze. 

Standing on the helicopter pad on the rooftop, which was where all of the city’s capes gathered to be transported to the Endbringer battle, was none other than Everyday Joe. 

Joe turned to look at her. 

Draped in his usual outfit of a featureless helmet, white leather jacket, red shirt, and regular jeans, he really didn’t look that different from a biker or a motorcyclist… if it wasn’t for the numerous weapons and accessories hanging from him. 

The sickles. 

The rings. 

The bat. 

What looked like one half of a giant scissors. 

And the white plastic chair he was sitting on (was it another weapon or just a plastic chair?).

What caught her eyes though wasn’t any of those but something new. 

A chain necklace. It didn’t look like it was silver or gold. Or platinum. 

“What’s with the necklace?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she tried to feign casualness she didn’t feel. She felt tense just staring at him. The Endbringer siren ringing in the background didn’t help.

“I met a Thinker recently,” he grunted. “So I decided to make something to fuck them over. If it helps against the Simurgh, then all the better.”

She froze.

“The Simurgh…?”

“Did you come up here without even thinking about that?” he asked with a tilt of his head. 

Her stomach dropped as soon as she heard him, and it made sense. No Endbringer attacked twice in a row and kept cyclic schedules. While there were some variances to when and who attacked, they tended to let one of their own attack at least once per “cycle.”

And the Simurgh hadn’t attacked anywhere in the past six months. 

She felt like throwing up.

“No one’s going to blame you if you turn away, Missy.”

Her head snapped up. Joe knew her civilian name?! 

Joe leaned forward and then briefly pulled his motorcycle helmet’s visor up.

She saw. 

Her eyes widened. 

And a different kind of sickness took a hold of her. 

She remembered him. 

She knew him. 

“You died,” she muttered.

He pulled his helmet back down.

“Triggering right before death is a bitch,” he laughed hollowly. 

She opened her mouth to ask … something. 

Anything. 

But other heroes quickly came up to the helipad, and she stopped herself from asking the question. 

They looked at her and Joe.

“Are you here for the Endbringer battle?” Armsmaster demanded.

Joe nodded. “Of course. Did you think that I was some sort of a villain who only shat on other villains and criminals? Endbringers also need to die.” A pause. “Even if I don’t think all of my skills and abilities will affect the things. The Nightmare Circle certainly won’t.” 

Then he stood up, making everyone tense up again.

“Are all of you coming, too?” 

“... Yeah,” Assault replied lamely and uncharacteristically, not that Missy blamed him for the lackluster reply.

Joe gave him a respectful nod. 

And then the awkward waiting began.

And the Endbringer siren was starting to get annoying.