Chapter Text
There were a thousand and one ways this could go horribly, horribly wrong.
Yet I bit my tongue and will the earth to stop beneath my boots, digging half-moons into the palms of my hands. Image was key, and Lisa Wilbourn was living proof of it. Living, for now, anyway. If things went horribly, horribly wrong, the meticulously crafted character of Lisa Wilbourn would shatter and be no more. She’d cease to exist and no one mourn her, no one would miss her.
It was one thing to carefully manipulate events from the shadows, but it was an entirely different matter to approach a budding hero, unmasked and vulnerable, with the sole purpose of proposing an alliance. As Tattletale, I was confident and calculated, but now, facing Bug in person, doubt slowly crept in.
Somehow, I pushed the self-sabotaging thoughts and the little voice in the back of my head that took great joy in reminding me of the thousand and one ways I could fail. I could close my eyes, miscalculate a word or two, and leave the alley in a black body bag sometime tomorrow. Tomorrow was a tad hopeful– Bodies dropping in Brockton Bay weren't rare. An overworked police force would turn the other way until the stench was too much and calls flooded in. Or I could go home empty-handed and wake up to the realization that the Undersiders were no more, because Bug spent her freetime carving her plans into the margins of her diary. I straightened my back, well aware I was out of costume, and channeled my Tattletale persona.
Contrary to popular belief, Tattletale wasn’t exactly a performance. In a way, it was me letting loose, succumbing to my natural element and allowing the voice inside my head to nudge me in the right direction. A lot of my waking day was spent trying to turn down my power; if I could, anyway. Sometimes, trying was futile. The Lisa persona was a performance crafted from a need to assimilate into society. In a world where you clung to secret identities, I learned to play along.
Tattletale didn’t need Lisa as much as Lisa needed Tattletale. Lisa was a blanket, a safety net. I threw my all into performing as Lisa– there were little quirks I only allowed to slip in as Tattletale, little acts that Lisa carried out for her role. To the unsuspecting eye, they were two different entities. A girl like Lisa Wilbourn enjoyed a peaceful, serene and quiet life, wasting and spiraling into herself. Lisa Wilbourn would spend her time in coffee shops, sipping lattes and looking over credit card bills while silently judging others that yearned for more. There was nearly nothing to Lisa– no family, a half-earned GED, and the occasional human interaction to remind others Lisa existed outside of Tattletale. A villain like Tattletale thrives on the uncertainty and chaos of Brockton Bay, the same violence a girl like Lisa would turn up her nose to. It was a deliberate act, something I devoted my freetime carving away at.
None of the other Undersiders face that issue. Rachel was, well, Rachel. One of the biggest tragedies of being Rachel was how little of normalcy she’d tasted from the beginning of her life. Brian’s escapade as Grue was what kept his personal life afloat, and I had the begrudging suspicion that when we all fell apart, he would be the one to make it out alright. I entertained myself with those thoughts; the same Brian that didn’t spare a thought at slamming a thug’s head into a wall would be the one to clock-in to his nine-to-five insurance job with a mug of coffee in his hand. He’d wear ties and suits and he’d bring the cake to the office parties. He’d send passive-aggressive emails, the kind that started with, “As per my last email…”
Not that I was jealous. Girls like me were never meant to seek normalcy. It didn’t fit us, didn’t suit us. Maybe before I triggered, I could go to college, studying a major I didn’t put much thought into with the knowledge that I had a guaranteed job with a cushy title in my father’s company. A steady income, a decent enough workload and a small life outside of work. Maybe a husband with an affair I deliberately ignored, maybe two kids I’d find ways to fool myself into loving and a white picket fence and two vacation houses I subtly brag about during PTA meetings.
Alec was the closest member of my team to deal with my troubles– there was something about him that I couldn’t quite pin down yet, and perhaps it was for the best. However, Alec kept out of everyday life, locking himself in the loft most of the time except to run to a fast food joint or do a quick errand if Brian bugged him enough. Maybe I could do the same, but I knew the benefits of a separate and established identity. That and I doubted I could ever get close enough to put my walls down and talk .
Lisa Wilbourn served two purposes; she was a safe haven for Tattletale, and she was the gravekeeper to Sarah Livsey’s coffin.
So here I was, risking the Lisa Wilbourn identity for a girl in a bug costume with a burning gaze behind yellow lenses. A junior hero in the wrong colors, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“So, the way I see it," I begin, my voice laced with casualness, “you have two options, but I already know your answer to the first one.”
Bug’s eyes narrowed behind her mask, and I could sense the unease emanating from her. I took a step forward, my heart racing as I continued further. “You could join the Undersiders.”
I could almost hear the internal battle I was waging. I was playing a dangerous game, pushing the boundaries of Bug’s comfort. I hadn't taken into account how much seeing Bug up close would affect me, in all honesty. The girl was earnest, determined, and there was an unwavering fire in her. There was so much potential, so much I could toy with. There was something about Bug stirring within, a tragedy of sorts. I couldn’t dwell on it, though. For me to get close to the fire, I had to get close to her in the first place.
“And the second?” Bug finally asked, her voice steady despite the uncertainty in her stance.
My mind raced, searching for the right words to continue weaving the web of persuasion she had started. I had to tread carefully, choosing my words like puzzle pieces that would fit seamlessly into the bigger picture. One wrong word, and it was game over.
“We strike a deal.” I replied, a hint of intrigue in my tone.
Bug’s gaze bore into my own, and I felt a surge of anticipation. This was a pivotal moment, a crossroads that could either lead to a valuable partnership or a disastrous collision.
“You see,” I continued, “we share a common goal, in a way. You want to be a hero, and I want to… achieve my own ambitions. We're both operating in the shadows of Brockton Bay's chaos. What if we could leverage that connection to our advantage?”
Bug’s masked face remained inscrutable, but I could tell she was considering the proposition. Taking a deep breath, I pushed forward with my audacious plan. Audacious, right. Any other hero would have arrested me on the spot. This was a scandal waiting to happen, the type of thing the PRT would lose its mind over and scramble to cover.
“You know I’m in a group– the Undersiders. Heard of the Ruby Dreams hit a couple weeks ago?”
No response. I pretended not to be offended.
“Fine, makes sense. We’re pretty lowkey, mainly pulling off heists. If you work with me, I can help you become the hero you aspire to be. You want to be a hero.”
I watched Bug carefully, studying the twitching of her hand and the stillness of her body. I was laying my cards on the table, exposing my vulnerabilities in a way I rarely did. But there was potential about Bug that made the risk worth it, to step out of the shadows and forge a connection that defied convention.
The masked hero cocked her head to the side, silent. She knew I was right– Bug was an aspiring superhero. I would have corrected Brian when he began talking about inviting Bug into the group the next morning, but then I had the greatest idea in the history of, well, ever . Obviously, Brian would have freaked out and refused to let me carry out my plan, so I had to lie and say Bug would only respond well to another girl. (And definitely not Rachel.)
Alone. Unmasked. Vulnerable.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“You want to be a superhero. I want to be one of the greatest villains to walk this city. If you work with me, I can get you there. You don’t want to join the Wards, that’s fine. But we can figure out a way to get you there.” I summarized aloud.
“So you want to be my…nemesis?”
“The term nemesis is lame.” I shook a finger. “But if, in theory, I get you to be one of the biggest heroes in Brockton Bay, then in turn, we’ll get a major boost in our reputation. Just imagine it for a second, the things we could get done together.”
Bug’s silence stretched on, and I held her breath, waiting for a response that could alter the course of our destinies.
Finally, Bug spoke, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity. “I'm listening.”
I held Bug’s gaze, trying to gauge her reaction. I expected resistance, skepticism, maybe even outright rejection. But the fact that Bug was still listening gave me a glimmer of hope.
“You're willing to work with us?" I asked cautiously, wanting to make sure I was interpreting Bug's response correctly.
Bug hesitated, her gloved fingers tapping against her arm as if she were deep in thought. Then, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded. “I'm willing to consider it. But you need to be upfront about everything. No tricks.”
My smile grew, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding through me. “Of course. Full transparency. But let's talk about the details later. Right now, I think we can both benefit from keeping this conversation under wraps.”
Bug nodded again. “Agreed.”
“Let’s talk…” I paused, propping my chin on my hand and exaggerating a thinking motion. “What time works for you?”
Of course, I already knew– Bug didn’t have much of a social life and there was a large part of her life that sucked. Maybe it was her home life, maybe her school life, but whatever it was, it could only work to my advantage. Sure, that was an awful way of thinking, but I was desperate. Besides, it was an amiable way to level the playing field. By asking Bug, I placed her as an equal in our partnership.
Appreciates the gesture. Finds it unexpected.
“Tomorrow, outside the Brockton Bay library, at noon.” She finalized, giving me one last look over. “You’ll find me…or, really, I’ll find you.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond. There was a swarm of bugs, beetles and flies and others I couldn’t place without my power talking, and she was gone.
Great. Bug was dramatic. Whatever, I could make it work.
I let myself relax, rolling my shoulders and inhaling. Exhale. Inhale. My fingers were shaking, and it unnerved me how nervous I was after this encounter. I’d learned overtime to redirect my emotions into my actions. If I put my all into Tattletale, then nothing could hurt Lisa.
Lisa. Tattletale. Tattletale and Lisa.
The walk to the loft was peaceful. By peaceful, I meant I tuned out the sirens and the flashing of colors and the shady men lingering in corners, huddling together and spilling secrets in a language only they understood. There was no harm in my way, though, and so I made it to the Undersiders in one piece.
“Well?” Alec was the only one there. He was half-sitting, half-laying down on the newest couch, a bag of chips threatening to spill at the slightest movement in his lap. The sight would have freaked Brian out, and maybe me as well if I wasn’t so worked up about Bug.
“We’re meeting tomorrow.” I grin, strolling past him and into the kitchen area. “Went well.”
“Hm.” Dark locks fell over his eyes and he blew them away, sighing. He looked back to the television, some cartoon he was, for the most part, paying attention to. “When’s she coming over?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe?”
I say nothing else, busying myself with the task of cleaning up the dishes in the sink. I still needed to get Brian on board with what I did, and I could only do that successfully if things went well with Bug tomorrow. There was no use in worrying him now, and I doubted Rachel or Alec cared enough to bother.
Or maybe Alec did care. He stood up, right behind me as I washed the dishes. His cartoon was long forgotten, his eyes fixated on me. “What did you do?”
I didn’t need to see him to hear the grin on his face. I pause, debating letting Alec in. I knew he didn’t care as much– there were few things Alec cared about in this lifetime. He followed along mostly, only pausing if we ever disrupted his moneyflow. And maybe what I was doing, what I was about to do could drastically shake the status quo.
“Lisa, what did you do?”
Widely suspicious. More aware of things than lets on. Wants to stay safe. Doesn’t understand why you want to change things. Knows you’re trying to change things. Doesn’t want change.
There’s not a place to start. Perhaps in another lifetime, we would have been roped in together. Maybe this life was kinder, because the Undersiders found each other in the weirdest of ways and stuck together.
That’s why we needed this. We were doing fine, but we could do better. I could make us do better.
We could be one of the scariest villain groups in Brockton Bay.
“What I needed to do.”
Now if I say it aloud, maybe I can start to believe it.
Lisa Wilbourn is a coward.