Kennedy sat next to Cait the booth that had become their new favorite spot in the dining hall. Now that they had been… intimate, casual touch with her had, well, not become easy exactly. Instead, it was more like it had taken on a new flavor. The fight or flight response she had to someone touching her was there for a reason, and it might never go away. But with Cait, especially linked to Cait…

  It felt more like being in a chintzy haunted house. Yeah, you were scared, but you were there to feel scared, to feel that excitement. It was a safe kind of fear, exhilaration without the risk of real danger.

  She rested her head on the shoulder of the muscular arm she had her own wrapped around, sighing at the feel of Cait’s warm skin against her cheek. Kennedy looked up at Cait to see her smirking down at her, cheeks puffed out with an ambitious bite of pancakes. The amazon swallowed, and that smile became dazzling.

  “What?” Cait asked, her voice full of good humor.

  Kennedy must have looked like a love-struck schoolgirl, but she gave herself the grace not to care. She’d never had the chance to be one before.

  “Just lookin’,” she replied with a grin, nuzzling into that strong shoulder. The joy she felt come across her link from Cait seemed like an overreaction, but, well, her mom had always said she was like a cat. Tough to get affection from, but very special when it came.

  “Still happy you remembered my order,” Kennedy replied, sipping at her tiny cup.

  “Double shot americano and a raspberry scone, its not exactly rocket science,” Cait replied, scooping up some more pancake. She pointed the bite she had speared at Kennedy. “Now, if you could remember my order….”

  “Tall peanut butter frappucino, whole milk, chocolate syrup, extra peanut butter syrup, crushed butterfinger, fucking whey protein, and more whipped cream than will fit in the cup,” Kennedy rattled off. She felt Cait’s growing amazement, but a twinge let her know she stumbled somewhere in the middle. She frowned. “What’d I get wrong?”

  “Double crushed butterfinger. If I don’t clog at least three straws I ask for a refund,” she replied with a shit-eating grin. “Close though!”

  Kennedy glared at Cait, but it was playful.

  “Don’t look at me like that! Details are important! What if you ended up with a blueberry scone?” Cait teased.

  “Yeah,” Kennedy agreed, sighing wistfully. “That would be a villain origin story for me. You ever think about what you’d call yourself if you were evil?”

  “Yeah, Amaranthine. This has all just been one big PsyOp.” Cait clearly had that one ready.

  “I was thinking ‘Dickhead’ for you,” Kennedy shot back. “Get in a double entendre and lets be honest, if anything turns you evil, its gonna be thinking with your dick.”

  Kennedy got a flash of heat, fear…. And regret? From her companion at that. She looked at Cait, questioning, but it was clear she didn’t want to address it. The Amazon shook the feeling off, and her grin returned.

  “How about you? Based on, y’know, past behavior, I think MindFuck might be appropriate….” She let that trail off, expecting, and receiving, a slap on the titty from Kennedy.

  “Nah,” Kennedy sighed, “that’d be better for Bri. How about, like, Black Mirror!”

  She sat up, circling her hands around her face and mimicking Cait’s expression.

  “Because I’d turn your powers back on you, right?”

  “Honestly, dope,” Cait responded,smiling, but shaking her head. “But also definitely 100% copyrighted.”

  “I’d be a villian! What do I care!”

  “Lawyers killed Al Capone.”

  “I’m not even sure who that is but I’m still somehow certain that’s wrong.”

  Both of their comms buzzed, and they saw Breastman had added them and Lira to a groupchat.

  B: Hey guys, I have kind of a big ask. Could I talk to you later?

  L: if its practice for Gwyn, sign me up!

  L: remember, Cait has the same number of holes as the rest of us, you’re just gonna have to get reaaaall thin and wormy for one of hers

  K: what a terrible day to be able to read

  K: whatever it is, B-man, we’ll help

  K: meet at the apartment, 7pm after Cait and I’s afternoon patrol?

  C: actually, I was going to do the whole unconditional friendship thing Kennedy is going for

  C: but Lira has me worried

  C: nothings going in my dick right?

  B: We can negotiate that part.

  Kennedy watched Cait chuckle as she dismissed her comm.

  “Speaking of plans, we better get going. I told Kevin I’d play some Overwatch 4 with him before that patrol, and you’re on Dawn Duty,” Cait said, starting to rise.

  “Ugh, don’t call it that, makes it sound like a chore. I’ve actually really enjoyed sitting with her. I feel like we’re deepening our link, just like you and me.”

  “Bet she loves that,” Cait nodded, scooping up Kennedy’s dishes alongside her own. “She is all the way down about not being able to help.”

  “Mmm,” Kennedy agreed, eyes locked on Cait’s ass as she headed for the trash can. She shook herself and rose as well. Walking up behind the Amazon, she caught her mouth in her own as Cait turned around.

  Cait… well, maybe just to her, but Cait tasted like sex. Even under the ‘coffee’ on her breath there was a heat to her mouth, beyond physical, that just set Kennedy on fire. She held it longer than she’d meant too, savoring Cait’s tongue before she pulled away, a little less alert than she’d been.

  “See you at 1?” Cait asked, and Kennedy noticed her hand on the small of her back, locking their hips together.

  “As long as you can let me go…” Kennedy replied, definitely hoping she wouldn’t.

  But Cait was good about her commitments, now, and just gave her a smile, bright, no more promise of sex than the baseline of anything she did. The big girl leaned down to kiss Kennedy on the forehead, and turned to leave, waving behind her over her shoulder.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Jesus, you’re like a fuckin’ puppy Kenn.”

  Kennedy realized she’d watched Cait walk allllll the way out of the dining hall, and hadn’t moved an inch herself. She looked over to find Warhawk sitting alone in the booth they’d just vacated.

  She looked rough. Sandra wasn’t the kind of woman that spent a lot of time on makeup and beauty, but she did usually take care of herself. Now, with greasy hair and baggy eyes, Kennedy doubted her friend had showered in days, or slept through the night in weeks. She gave Kennedy a weak smile, a shadow of her normal fierce, challenging grin.

  “Wha—" was all she got out before Kennedy walked over and hugged her. She linked to her friend, and poured out as much comfort and support as she could. They’d all been at HotGlue and Fingerguns’ memorials, but they hadn’t all been the fallen men’s teammates. All of them had been spread so thin recently, and they’d been put in the impossible spot of triaging support for their friends.

  Kennedy could hear her trying to speak, but she wasn’t getting anything out. Before long, she just wrapped her arms over Kennedy’s, hanging off her shoulders as she wept.

  She knew this was probably the first time Sandra had actually cried about this, despite losing two of her very few friends only a week apart. Even among those, Kennedy was the only person she allowed herself to be vulnerable around. Kennedy made quiet shushing noises, stroking Sandra’s wild hair. She was more and more grateful for her link to Cait as Sandra put more and more weight on her shoulders. Warhawk was all muscle, and those metallic wings weren’t as light as physics would like them to be.

  After a few minutes, Sandra straightened. She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and despite being puffy as hell, looked a little better.

  “Thanks, Kenn,” she said, her smile regaining a bit of its strength. “You didn’t used t’ be able to do that.”

  Kennedy gestured towards the direction Cait had left it.

  “There’s a reason I’m so into that girl,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up a bit. “I’m gonna go keep Dawn company, join me? She still sleeps a lot, so we could catch up.”

  “Sounds real nice, actually. I’d been meaning to visit myself but….”

  It went unsaid that there had simply been too many lost friends. Kennedy patted her on the back, and the two women headed outside, starting towards Black+Stone Memorial.

  They actually found Dawn during a Physical Therapy session. It wasn’t going well. A young black man was currently trying to wrestle a wickedly sharp hardwood cleaver out of Dawn’s hand, the blade inching towards her right arm.

  “Marcus! Do not presume to tell me what is best for myself! In nature, if a limb should fail you it is removed! I can grow myself a beautiful arboreal replacement without issue!” Dawn protested, a surprising amount of strength in her elegant left arm giving the fit PT more difficulty than one might think in stopping the self-amputation.

  Kennedy sighed, and expanded her mind towards Dawn, as Warhawk rushed to the PT’s side, her own bulging arms finally able to wrest the knife from Dawn’s hand.

  Linking with the deer, Kennedy found a truly overwhelming sense of frustration that nearly knocked her back a step. She knuckled down on containing it, soothing here, battening down there, until she felt like Dawn might actually be able to hear her as anything more than noise.

  “C’mon Dawn, if you really wanted to cut your own arm off, none of us could stop you. We work closely with a dragon now, do you really think making yourself extra-flammable is the right call?” Kennedy scolded. Dawn’s tantrum was understandable, but she didn’t think humoring it was a good idea in this case. Dawn glared at Kennedy, and a potted plant near the door reared up to her face, slapping at her cheeks with its leaves.

  “Hey!” Kennedy laughed, slapping it away. “Two can play at that!”

  The cleaver Warhawk now held softened and split, fraying into feathery tips that shot towards Dawn’s armpits.

  “You wouldn’t!” warned the deer.

  “Oh I would,” promised Kennedy, plunging the feathered tips to the sensitive skin, who immediately dropped to the floor, curling up in laughter and defense.

  “Hey! HEY!” The PT yelled. Kennedy stopped her assault to look at him. He ran over to Dawn, helping her to her feet. “Goddamn it Sonder, don’t harass a Physical Therapy patient! Last thing we need is muscular damage on top of repairing these nerves. You good Dawn?”

  Kennedy sensed a wave of gratitude reach her from the deer. During their time one on one in the hospital, she’d found the absolute best thing she could do was treat Dawn like nothing was wrong. Seeing the deer hurt and vulnerable, she’d realized they’d been doing her a disservice. Her beatific, calming, almost motherly presence had led the team of chaos gremlins she found herself on to treat her, unconsciously, as some degree of ‘other’.

  That had been wrong on multiple levels. B-man had done some explaining about Altered Beast instincts, which her mom had encouraged him to be open about. He hadn’t exactly name dropped Dawn, but it was clear a good amount of the still water she showed the world was a fa?ade. She was at least as wild as the rest of them, maybe more. The other way it was wrong, and more their fault, was letting a member of their team feel like she was… not an outsider, but Cait and Breastman were so tight, and she and Cait had become so close as well, it must have been hard not to feel like a fourth wheel on a tricycle.

  “I am ‘good’, Marcus,” struggling to make her right arm form one half of the air quotes. “As good as I can be until you release me from this ethanol scented prison.”

  “Alright, Dawn, c’mon. You’re making good progress! That air quote was excellent motor control! You gotta remember, without the tech and magic here, it would have taken months or years for you to get there, if you ever did.”

  Marcus was excellent at weaving praises and scolding together, and soon he had Dawn doing more exercises. Figuring ‘what the hell’, Kennedy and Warhawk joined in. Marcus, for his part, did an excellent job at staying focused on Dawn’s exercise form, despite the fact that the other ‘forms’ in front of him were almost supernaturally enticing. It wasn’t quite a rule that all vaguely humanoid Altereds were hot as hell, but the rule definitely applied in this room.

  They’d actually built up a light sweat when they were done, everyone having used at least one muscle they’d never felt before, and they promised Marcus to escort Dawn back to her room.

  “Alright, now that the narc is gone, where are we taking you?” Kennedy turned to Dawn with a grin. The deer returned her smile, but it was tired.

  “The room would be best I’m afraid. The effort of those sessions is extremely mentally taxing,” Dawn explained.

  “No worries Bambi,” Kennedy said, teasing. “We know our seniors need a nap sometimes.”

  “Exactly how old do you think I am, Kennedy?” Dawn asked, quizzically.

  “Uh…..”

  “Shot yourself in the foot there Kenn,” sniggered Sandra.

  “Like, no older than 18, for sure, I was joking!” Kennedy said, at least making the obvious lie flattering.

  “Mmm, 19, but close!” she continued forward, even her slow limping pace leaving the two stunned women behind her.

  “Fuckin’ WHAT!?” demanded Sandra, recovering first. Dawn seemed to notice that they’d stopped, laboriously turning to fix them with a quirked eyebrow.

  “What did you think the lifespan of a whitetail deer was?” she asked, mirth in her tone.

  “No idea-,” started Kennedy, but Sandra beat her to it.

  “Round 5 years in the wild, probably less now with Altered Beasts, but…. Oooohhhhh.”

  “Mmmmm, yes,” replied Dawn, seeing realization on Warhawk’s face. “I was only 4 when I was Altered, but that was nearing the end of my natural life. I seem to have been lucky enough to have received a more human life span along with my powers.”

  “Man, now I feel really bad that you always seemed more mature than me,” laughed Kennedy, jogging up to softly elbow the deer.

  “You are growing, Kennedy Swan. I have been meaning to comment on it, but I am very impressed with how quickly you’ve expanded your link abilities!”

  What?

  Kennedy examined her mind and those linked to it. Sandra, mood buoyed but barely keeping above the surface of clutching, suffocating darkness. Dawn, grateful that she wasn’t alone while still feeling like she’d lost everything, and…. Cait. Nothing complex there, if she had to guess, the Amazon’s good mood was probably due to bodying the newly Altered teen in whatever hero-shooter they’d decided to waste time on.

  But still, 3 links. And it had been so easy she hadn’t even noticed, with only one of them being Cait or Rose!

  “Wow…” she whispered, feeling a surge of pride, echoed by her friends when they realized she hadn’t been conscious of it herself.

  “Congrats Kenn!” shouted Sandra, slapping her on the back. She’d always been the worst about Kennedy’s personal space, but she was finding it less and less noxious. “Hey, speaking of links, why ain’t we birds of a feather right now?”

  She spread her shimmering red-tipped wings, knocking an exit sign off the ceiling in the process. Kennedy winced, not at the sign, but at the fact that Sandra knew the answer to that question. She just never liked to admit it.

  “I dunno, Sandy, maybe I can only do two powers, and I just picked the best ones!” she replied, dodging the question and running a finger along her antlers as she stuck out her tongue.

  “Nah, that can’t be it. I’ll take flying over being tough any day. Touché on the magic though.”

  Dawn did a proud little wiggle, raising her good arm to release a bloom of flower petals, falling to the ground around her.

  Kennedy groaned.

  “Oh my god, c’mon, lets get her to her room before you two give the maintenance staff any more reasons to radicalize.”