He pointed backwards without looking to check. There were some people there, mostly young ones, with cameras. “Keep fighting us, it’s only going to encourage us, seeing how vicious you get with the unpowered. That’s if you win. If this next bullet lands, if I walk away with a win, it’s a bit of motivation. We all know what you did to that pregnant woman, Rotten Apple. Pretend to be a hero all you want, we all know what you are and what you did.”

“Kill a kid?” Fume Hood asked. “Like you just threatened to do?”

He aimed, and he fired.

It felt like… getting shot. She wanted to wrap her head around it so she could start to process the pain, but the most familiar sensation she could connect to was the last time she’d been shot. Every muscle in her body but one clenched with the pain, which speared through her midsection. The one muscle that didn’t seem to have any strength at all was low in her stomach, and in its absence she found herself flopping over, curling up into the fetal position.

“Fume!”

“You bastard!” Withdrawal called out. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Point that thing at me and I’ll empty this into the group of you.”

“You need to go,” Fume Hood whispered, barely able to follow what was happening, but giving it her all anyway. She could see people closing in nearby. This guy’s friends. Forming a defensive perimeter around this scene. Others who might not be friends, who were just regular civilians who were watching.

“We’re not leaving you,” Finale said.

“You have to. I’m sorry.”

“Nope.”

“Finale!” Fume Hood hissed out the word. The hiss made her back and stomach cramp up. “You go. I’m… I’m not this great person. I’m not worth it.”

“No.”

“You—” Fume Hood tried. “You told me your stories. Your trigger events. You told me who you are. Let me—let me tell you who I am. I’m Withdrawal’s mom. Selfish and lazy and dismissive and really fucking bad at taking care of others. I’m the kids who egged Finale on, and the asshole who scared her after. I’ve been such a jackass for so many years, I hurt and scared so many people. I’ve dealt drugs to people who were like your mom, Caryatid, I’ve drugged people. I’ve ruined lives and broken up families just by being there. Sometimes on purpose, or for fun.”

Everything in her strained with the pain. Talking so much made her feel like she might pass out.

“Maybe that’s who you were, but you’re other things too,” Caryatid said. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”