“Yo, I’ve got the goods.” Kit taps Skye on the shoulder, before slipping around behind her to drop their produce into the shopping cart. “How was the deli?”

“It was fine,” Skye replies with an easy smile. “Sandwich meat is sandwich meat.” As she talks, she rifles through Kit’s bounty. “Broccoli? Do you intend to try that pasta bake recipe again?”

“Naturally.” Their veggies safely delivered, Kit rests their sling on the edge of the shopping cart. “I know it wasn’t a winner last time, but now I’ve got a good feeling about it. I know what not to do, see?”

“If I were you, I would have stopped taking recipe advice from social media after that, but it’s your right to experiment.” As she starts pushing the cart again, she chuckles faintly. “I suppose people can recover from anything shockingly quickly.” 

How very right she is.

Take Kit, for example. They’ve had this cast-sling combo over their arm for a full month now, ever since that throwdown with Omni, and already they’re so used to living life three-limbed that they won’t know what to do with themself once it’s off. Not that that’ll be anytime soon, though – thanks to the metal of their own suit having perforated their arm, the doc guesses it’ll be another couple months at the least.

“Ah, pardon me,” Skye murmurs, backing her shopping cart out of the way of a middle aged woman. Looks like they were both going for the eggs at the same time.

The other woman grabs her eggs, looks over, and distractedly says “Thank you, miss,” before hurrying off. Kit looks back over and – sure enough, Skye’s lit up like a christmas tree, about to start hopping up and down in the middle of the dairy aisle.

Speaking of miracle recoveries, it’s been so unbelievably nice to see Skye coming back into her own. Two weeks of hormones hasn’t actually visibly changed her figure (no matter how much Alice teases her) but it’s obvious that she’s twice, no, thrice as comfortable with herself. That, plus–

“Kit? You’re staring.” Skye grins over at them as she carefully lays the eggs atop the cart’s food. “Make no mistake, I’m happy to get ‘miss’-ed on a hoodie-and-jeans day, too, but there’s really not that much to see.” Wait. Was that flirting? Is Skye capable of flirting now?

“Oh, you wish.” Recovering quickly, Kit darts to the side of the aisle to grab a case of deliciously putrid energy drinks. “You’re killing the boy-mode look, but I’m not about to get caught staring – Alice would have my head on a platter, y’know?”

Skye wrinkles her nose at the sight of Kit’s energy drinks. “That’s assuming your taste in beverages doesn’t get you killed first.”

“I don’t need to take that from the likes of you.” As they make for checkout, Kit nudges Skye with their elbow, sling and all. “If it wasn’t for us, you’d still be eating microwave entrees and instant ramen seven days a week.”

“We all have our vices,” Skye replies serenely, parking the cart in line. “Be it drink, or smoke, or gossip – Hey, hold on a second, look at this.” Taking one of the tabloids off the checkout rack, she points to a picture in the corner of the front page. “The Masked Maniacs’ Final Fight.”

“Gimme.” Kit takes the magazine out of Skye’s obliging hands, squinting at the picture. “Well, I’ll be. That’s us, alright. They even got my roguish physique in profile.” Fumbling one-handed to open to the article, Kit beams up at Skye. “How’s it feel to be famous?”

Skye simply rolls her eyes. “I’m just glad it’s the standard sort of gossip journalism, rather than Omni trying to smear me.” Omni, Omni, Omni. Skye’s obviously still worried about them, but whatever’s going on, they haven’t made a move. If nothing else, it’s been nice to be able to have a conversation without the topic drifting back to Marco and his goons.

Even more importantly, though, now that there’s no longer a candy-colored death squad hunting for her, Skye’s finally been able to resume her regular do-gooding. The first new episode of her podcast alone got like ten “Welcome back, we missed you” comments – she nearly cried, even if two were from Alice and Kit.

“Eh, whatever,” Kit says with a shrug. “Point is, things are pretty much back to normal now.” Scooting the cart up, Kit starts loading everything onto the conveyor belt.

“Yes… pretty much,” Skye echoes hollowly, though the nuance is lost on Kit.

---

 

Skye chews her lip, staring at the crosswalk and willing the sign to turn. Every so often, she rolls her shoulders or adjusts her grip, in order to better handle the weight of her grocery bags.

“And don’t get me wrong,” Kit continues their tirade, “Ray seems neat enough, and more importantly Max likes ‘em, and I’m happy for them both and whatever, but seriously, who suggests ice skating for a first date? Two hours of falling over in the freezing cold with someone I barely know? You couldn’t pay me to do that, seriously.”

“I don’t know,” Skye murmurs, half-paying attention, “It sounds charming, and the rink is in the middle of a mall so there’s other options if you don’t enjoy it.” Her mind on her email inbox, she continues. “I’d like to go on an ice skating date eventually.”

Kit blanches, fumbling the far-too-many grocery bags they insisted on carrying. “Y-you mean just in general, right? Not with any specific person in particular?” It takes a moment to dawn on Skye just why they sound so confounded. Huh. How about that.

“I meant just in general,” Skye replies truthfully, “and though I don’t know I’m quite ready to date yet, once I feel up to it I’d be more than happy to spend a night out with you.” Her composure is admirable – her face only starts to burn on the last few words.

“Huh,” Kit mumbles, “Cool.”

“Yep. Cool.”

After a few awkward moments, the crosswalk changes, letting them continue on their way home. With their feet moving once more, Kit finds it in them to keep the conversation going, as well. “Like as in, hanging out, or as in a night out?”

“I…” Skye stumbles as she steps up onto the curb. “I don’t really know.” She can feel her throat closing up on her. “I, I shouldn’t have said anything, sorry. I’m still figuring this out myself, between you, and Alice, and–”

“Alright, pause a sec.” Kit stops walking and motions Skye to do the same. They don’t talk, however, until they’ve had a few deep breaths to recenter themself. “Okay. We’ve got nothing but time, girl. I know you always have this whole thing where you can’t talk to anyone about what’s eating you until you’ve totally dissected it on your own, but I promise nobody’s gonna think less of you if you get some extra perspective from me and Alice.”

That’s… really not how she goes about thinking about things, but it’s the thought that counts. “Thank you, Kit. I appreciate it.” Eager to be over this conversation, Skye resumes walking.

Kit ambles along with, their memory apparently jogged. “Hey, speaking of Alice, did you ever have a talk with her about that whole thing?”

“Oh, about my concerns for a relationship with her?” It has been a while. She probably is ready to have that discussion if Alice is… and the thought of knowing for certain what they are to one another is more than tempting.

“What? No. Well, that too.” Kit hikes their bags a little further up their splint. “I meant the thing Pamela said, about her being a spy.”

“Oh, that. I’ve been…” Skye trails off, desperately hunting for a better predicate to her sentence than ‘pretending it doesn’t exist’. “I’ve been worried about how to broach the subject delicately.”

“That’s it? Really? Listen, you’ve got nothing to worry about!” Kit probably meant that to come off as reassuring, but Skye can’t help feeling condescended to. “Just rip off the band-aid, sit her down ASAP, and tell her the truth. Don’t give her a sob story or anything-”

“Just state the facts,” Skye finishes, fishing for the key to the apartment building. “I read you loud and clear.” After a moment, she remembers to state her concerns aloud. “I just worry that Alice doesn’t feel like I can trust her anymore – she’s been rather distant for a bit now.”

Kit groans, holding the door to the building open for her. “Look, anti-dude, that’s exactly why you need to bite the bullet.”

“Face the music.”

“Take the bull by the horns.” Kit allows themself a chuckle as they pick their groceries back up. “Seriously, though, the longer you go without talking about it, the weirder things are gonna get between you two.”

“I know, I know.” Nudging the door shut behind her, Skye looks up to face the apartment complex’s stairs. “You understand, though, that bungling the conversation could erode trust even further.”

“Sure!” Without hesitation, Kit tackles the stairs two steps at a time. “But you’re not gonna be able to start building trust back up until after you take your medicine.”

“Clear the air,” Skye groans, hauling her cargo up the staircase.

“Already used that one!”

“Really? Shoot.”

---

 

“Welp,” Kit says, slapping their good hand on their knee as they stand, loud enough to make Alice jump a bit, “Not that this hasn’t been another fantastic night of good food, good company and good TV, but I’ve got work tomorrow.” Turning to Skye, they fix her with another impish grin. “Would you be so willing as to let the fracture victim use the bedroom tonight?”

Skye simply smiles back, waving them off. “Sure, sure. I was probably going to head out before long – I’ve been thinking about picking up a beach tonight, perhaps.” God, but it’s nice to see her with that easy confidence even when she’s suitless.

Alice shrugs, taking a bit more of the dwindling chip bowl. “If you’re going to be on a beach all night, I might take the evening off, too.” As she talks, she winds her scarf around her finger. “I’ve been having a great time as mission control, but lately work has been a lot. You see, we’re-”

“Oh!” Kit claps their hands loudly, completely derailing Alice’s train of thought. “One last thing before I call it a night – Alice, Skye had something to talk to you about.”

“Did she?” Alice looks over to Skye, whose posture stiffens. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice can see Kit nodding surreptitiously to Skye.

“Yep! Anyways, that’s all I know. G’night!” With that, the world’s most infuriating fracture victim slips into Skye’s room. No doubt they’ll be asleep within seconds.

Alice, bemused, raises an eyebrow in Skye’s direction. “Is there actually something, or is it Kit-using-you-as-a-go-between-to-beg-me something?” She stops joking around, however, upon seeing Skye’s posture tense up further.

“No, no, the former, simply… Oh, boy,” Skye says, scratching the back of her neck, “Talk about being put on the spot. We – Th-” Fumbling, she starts over. “Alice, we need to talk.”

Finally, Alice resists the urge to say. “This is about how Omni got the schematics, right?” Skye nods, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Alice sighs, continuing. “Alright, let’s get into it – but if I could ask the first question here, how long did you know?”

“Right away,” Skye responds numbly, and Alice’s heart drops into her stomach. “I saw that my message history had been wiped, and Omni stopped sending me phishing emails the very day after. But-” She raises her hands placatingly, as though she’s afraid of Alice. “But you ought to know, the reason I never brought it up is because I don’t blame you. You’re not at fault for getting tricked, they’re at fault for tricking you.”

Alice is silent for a few moments, running a hand up and down her scarf before finally nodding. “Okay. Gotcha. I – Christ, Skye,” she groans, heat welling up behind her eyes, “Would it have killed you to just say that in the first place? I felt straight up sick having to keep all this from you.”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” Skye nods, also choked up. “Sorry.” Taking a few deep breaths, she tilts her head to the side as something apparently occurs to her. “Although… Why didn’t you simply come clean? Did you worry I’d kick you out of the apartment?” Her tone takes on an inquisitive bent.

No – I was worried you would think less of me, which is worse. “Kind of, yeah! You’ve been going all lone-wolf, beating up people and doing corporate espionage. I think you’re a lot scarier than you realize!”

Skye flinches at that like she was shot – that’s real bold of her, considering she’s the one who’s dredging this up. “I… I see. Do you have any other questions for me?”

“I do, actually.” Alice grabs the last of the chips. “Is there anything else you sleuthed out about me ages ago and didn’t feel like sharing?”

Skye grimaces, avoiding eye contact. “I know you were a big fan of Sky Horizon before we met in person. And that you, er… moved to Portland to search for me.” Damn it all to hell, really?

“How.” All around her ears, Alice hears the sound of the last four months crumbling.

“I received a notification with your email when you subscribed to my Patreon.” Skye winces. “Also, Camden from high school reached out via text a week or so after we first met.”

“That liar. He said he didn’t have your number when I asked,” Alice grumbles.

“Again– not mad,” Skye clarifies quickly. “It’s genuinely not that big of a deal to me, I just want to – to clear the air.”

“Then why bring it up?” Alice can feel the bile rising in her throat. “If everyone’s fine as it is, literally why would you ever need to bring it up except to twist the knife?”

“So we could move on. I wanted to stop having to worry about it-”

“So I’m some box for you to tick off?” Alice laughs harshly. “Jesus. Skye, do you know how it feels to be your friend?” She’s lashing out and knows it, but god does it feel cathartic.

Skye doesn’t even say anything, she just sits there.

“It feels like you see me as secondary. Supporting cast. I do my little thing and make your life better and whoops, there I go, disappearing into the background while you go hang around with your new, cooler friends.”

“That’s not fair,” Skye responds weakly. “You were the one who sought me out.”

“And then you offered to meet for coffee! You offered to take me in! And the second that you have a new buddy with their own superhero nonsense going on, you drop everything to hang out with them instead. The second you get a bad guy to do big stupid fights with, you just have to throw yourself at them over and over again.” 

“What would you have me do, then?” Skye finally finds her fire, sitting up straight and asking indignantly. “Sit idly by while my own invention gets abused? Give up my hobby?”

Alice throws her hands in the air. “Yes, actually! A sane person would move on and get a normal job.” Alice’s voice drops, four months of acid dripping from each word. “You want to clear the air, Skye? You and Marco deserve each other. You’re exactly the same as him.”

Skye just sits, staring at her knees.

Finally, Alice catches her breath with a huff, still glaring. Was she too harsh? Maybe, but probably not. Every single thing she said was the absolute truth. Being an extension of Skye, being the voice of reason that Skye never, ever listened to, was exhausting. Unsustainable. Alice couldn’t have handled another day of it.

So why does she feel so guilty watching the tears well up in Skye’s eyes?

Skye whispers something.

“What?”

“I’m going to go out now,” Skye mumbles. “To the beach. Please don’t look at me when I transform.”

---

 

Fifteen minutes of driving in circles later, Skye’s head has finally, finally started to clear. The heavy-fog-almost-rain of the Pacific Northwest slides over her mask as her moped rumbles to a stop.

To her left sits the First Republic bank, the place she first met Kit. Apparently they only just finished repairing the damages – until just a week ago, everything had to be stored in a different vault elsewhere. The main lobby still doesn’t have a chandelier, though. It’ll probably be a while before they can replace that.

The light turns green, and Skye takes off again, her train of thought spiraling. Alice’s words were harsh, but that’s no reason to discount them out of hand. It’s hard to deny that she jumped at the chance to fight Kit, but dealing with Omni was purely out of necessity, no? Hard to be sure.

On Skye’s right, the mall soars past, bringing another wave of memories with. The site of the first battle she well and truly won, and more importantly the first time she went out in public as herself. That wonderful blue jacket Alice found for her is still at the forefront of her wardrobe.

Alice… What a difficult subject. Was she stewing in resentment the whole time and this was the breaking point? If that was the case, it’s Skye’s fault for not sitting down for this discussion sooner. Was she having a particularly bad day and Skye shoved her over the top? In that event, Skye should have noticed and waited until she was more receptive. Either way, she made a ruinous mistake.

Skye realizes that she pulled up in front of a street corner automatically – looking up, she realizes her muscle memory brought her straight to the Blue Jay Cafe. Here she had her first real conversation with Alice, and with Marco. The windows are still boarded up, the damages caused by Pamela and Constantine still not yet fixed. In a roundabout way, this too is Skye’s fault.

Idly, leaning against her moped, Skye scrolls through her phone. She’s been tagged in a few posts from fans, and another comment on her newest podcast episode. Her mail app, meanwhile, is full floor-to-ceiling with copies of the same message. Over and over, the same lines are copy-pasted– vague threats from Omni, promising that they’re building their case and Sky Horizon only has so long to accept their offer.

One by one, Skye swipes at the messages, deleting them from her inbox, but her pace slows when she fails to even make a dent in the wall of mail.

Your time is almost up.

You and Marco deserve each other.

Rip off the band-aid.

Skye’s gloved finger slowly drifts to the reply button.

---

 

Marco,

I’ve decided that I want to settle matters out of court – permanently. I’ll be waiting where all this began. I trust that you’ll be able to make it within the evening.

Regards,

Sky Horizon