Nighthawk: A Superhero Story (closed for Siobhancan99)

[Halcyon638]

Monica’s eyes drifted over toward Hilary’s owner. The older woman was facing the counter dressed in a pair of white sleep shorts that barely covered the ample curves of her ass and showed off her tanned legs. “I thought you’d be asleep longer,” Mel said, turning and stirring a cup of tea. She wore a matching white camisole that left a small swath of her midriff bare and hugged her large breasts. “You looked so peaceful.”

Hilary rubbed against Monica’s left leg. “I don’t want to keep you here if you’ve got places to be. Or you’re hurting. We can have your appointment early if you’d like. Of course…I’d never say no to your company.” She turned away and began taking down a second mug. A half-opened bag of gourmet coffee beans sat nearby.

 

[siobhancan99]

"I have super hearing." She joked and poured herself a cup of coffee after Mel handed her the cup. She subtly checked Mel out, not feeling bad as *someone* had put a sheet on her and there were only two people in the house, not counting the cat. She hoped the older woman got the eyeful she'd always wanted. She sipped at her coffee and sat "this is really good. I should get some of it but then I'd need a grinder and that's a whole thing. It seems like committing yourself to making your own coffee every day." She sipped again, then stretched a little. "I can hurt at work, or I can hurt at home not working, or I can hurt here and be useful and maybe have my appointment." She crossed her long legs at the ankles, then brushed her blonde hair back before tying it off in a loose ponytail.

 

[Halcyon638]

Mel made her way to the table and joined Monica, no hint of self-consciousness despite it being the most skin she’d ever showed off around Monica. She sat with one knee lifted and sipped her tea. “Well, it sounds like someone has enough money to buy her own fancy coffee from a coffee shop every morning now,” she said. “I have to say, that’s ingenious. And supporting women’s shelters…”

She smiled. “You’re a remarkable person, Monica Bergenson.” The red-haired woman lifted her tea cup as if in a toast, then sipped it, but kept her green-eyed gaze locked onto Monica’s. “And I’m lucky to know you.”

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica squirmed a little at the praise. Getting it from a female authority figure was definitely twice as good, especially with how keenly absent her mother was. "Stop. I'm doing what anyone else would do." She sipped at her coffee "If anyone else was a magical space princess." She hmmmed "ok so maybe not what everyone would do. Thank you. I'm trying to be better about accepting compliments without being arrogant about it. I'm incredibly conscious of the fact that if I lived out there" she gestured vaguely at space "I'd treat any sort of that thing as my due as a warrior caste, and I'm trying really hard not to be my mother." She sat back "Also I increasingly find that I am my mother." She shook her head "How about you? was that true for you?"

 

[Halcyon638]

“You’d be amazed at the therapeutic value of simply offering direct but honest praise,” Mel remarked. “I would work with some patients who would tell me they honestly couldn’t remember someone praising them. Ever. I still remember this woman who said the one compliment her father ever gave her was that she was good at remembering what channels TV shows were on.” Smiling a bit, she added, "You used to have to remember which channel a TV show was on. A thousand years ago."

As the topics shifted to mothers, Mel cupped her mug in both hands. “My mother? She was a teacher. High school biology. Retired. So I suppose we have that in common. But if anything, I'm becoming less like her. She's always been...very regimented. There is one 'right way' to do things. I feel as though...for the past few years...I've pushed back against that. I've stopped letting it dictate my life."

She let go of the cup. "In what ways do you feel you're becoming your mother?"

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica leaned back and took a moment to think. "I have" She paused "An extraordinarily hard time dealing with people who will not take care of their own shit." She shifted, uncomfortable "I had a hard time dealing with and relating to my friend Zoe's inability to get herself together after a bad semester at school. I know I was a little shabby towards her for a bit, which I'm not proud of. Especially since a little over a year ago i wasn't showering or going to school. But you know... dead boyfriend vs. having a hard time meeting people at college. I dunno. Anyway I got over it, but I can feel my mother all over that."

Leaning forward she rolled her shoulders a bit, uncomfortable but figuring that's what therapy was for. "So. My mom was an artist, but not you know by choice. She just didn't have the kinds of skills that translated into a specialized economy. She spoke 4 earth languages and she could kill a man 200 ways with a spoon and shoot a deer a mile away, but she wasn't you know.. an engineer like my dad who could blend seamlessly into American society. So her cover was as an artist." She sipped at her coffee "And she had this bohemian artist sort of vibe, so you'd expect her to you know. Be sort of scattered and eccentric and hippie-ish. But she wasn't. All her art was these themes of either overcoming impossible odds, classic greeks meet Nietzche sort of will to power kind of stuff. Or, at the end, this sort of bleak loneliness in a crowd sort of thing that still, I think, came from her in her heart of hearts feeling like she was in some fashion elevated in comparison to her surroundings. When I was a kid she taught herself to sculpt from blocks of stone and literally carved a statue of my father as Hercules killing the Nemean Lion from marble. Just before she left she painted these paintings in blues and purples and whatnot, with women in crowds where everyone was sort of parting around her and not looking at her and she looked like she was despairing. But. She was still taller and better looking than everyone in the crowd. One of our last conversations about art she said that art should say something or what was the point, but also it should look like something or it was just doodling. She hated the modern art movement with intensity. She didn't suffer foolishness very well."

She laughed "So, I guess what I see in me that is my mother is fucking everything?" She drummed her fingers on the table. "I have an advantage, over her, in that I was born here. So I do relate to Americans. I am one. I can have actual friendships with them. I don't feel like I'm a god that's masquerading as a mortal. In a lot of ways she was. You know? She was cosplaying human." She considered "but. And I'd never say this to Gabi who is so much to me and means the world to me but. I don't know. I'm starved for peers. Like, intellectual peers I have. Gabi is at least as smart as I am. But. I can do all this crazy shit, and the few people I've met that can also do this crazy shit are either supervillains, or douchebags from outer space who can't relate to the human/earth girl part of me. Like, part of me kind of hoped there'd be some kind of like... Justice League or something. But so far its straight up Legion of Doom."

 

[Halcyon638]

Mel listened carefully, cradling her mug of tea but not drinking it now. The morning sunlight was already causing the air conditioner to kick up another notch. “It sounds like that can feel quite isolating. Firstly, I think it’s important that you’re conscious of this worldview. And this isn’t to say that it’s bad to admire or want to spend your time with people with ambitions and goals.”

She swirled her teaspoon idly. “But there are problems with seeing the world this way. You remember when we discussed human development and different stages in my course? I’ll also put in a shameless plug for you to take my Human Development class when I offer it again next spring,” the professor said with a smirk. “You’re twenty years old. Most people your age—and well into their late 20s, even 30s—are still developing their identities, life goals, passions, values. And many of those who think they have it ‘figured out’ right now—you know, the ones who’ve known they want to be doctors since they were ten years old—will find out that that’s not the best fit. Or, their goals are entirely selfish or even destructive to our communities, our world. And then there’s the brain itself. If you recall, your prefrontal cortex doesn’t typically fully develop until you’re 25—the area responsible for impulse control and decision-making. This is why people your age are not always making the best choices or making the kinds of impulsive--if fun--decisions you were describing last night with your…guy friend.”

Brushing away a fiery lock, Mel said, “My point is this: you are going to be pushing away a lot of people if you keep viewing the world that way. People that maybe don’t have a ten-year plan to make a killing on Wall Street or cure cancer but who are empathetic or creative or passionate.” Smiling, she added, “Give them some grace. They may be a few years behind you on the developmental timeline, but they’ll get there. Maybe with a little bit of your help. With that said, if Gabi decides she wants to give up school to lie around playing video games…you have my permission to not be okay with that.” She laughed briefly as if tickled by the thought that the studious bio major would ever go down that path.

Letting the spoon drop into the cup again, Mel added, “I think it’s also important to acknowledge that being compassionate and understanding can be learned behaviors. We may not be compassionate by default. Have you ever heard David Foster Wallace’s commencement address? ‘This is Water’? You should look it up sometime. He wasn’t great to women and I find the cult around him a bit obnoxious, but I also find him incredibly poignant at times. The point is that you also need to give yourself some grace to come up short when you try to extend some compassion to others. It sounds like you recognized you could be a bit more accepting of Zoe even if you struggled to overcome your default reaction.”

Mel nodded as Monica described her lack of peers. “I know it can be difficult not to have someone to speak with who knows exactly what you’re going through. Being a lesbian in a small town during the 80s and 90s…it was…extremely isolating. Do you know how many…more of you there are here? The Centauri. Have you ever tried to find them? Are there…internet forums? I’m sorry. I’m way out of my depth here, I understand.”

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica considered for a moment "so. I've met one other kid my age, and he had no fucking idea. His dad was this Centauri super genius who had a kid, and then decided that since he was fucking off the invasion he just foisted him off on some other people to raise and had nothing to do with him. So the kid isn't battle caste which means he's tall and good looking and maybe a little strong but he's not me." She curled a leg up under her chin. "And the battle caste, the people I've met that ARE like me, well they're all older. They're all from home and they all you know, remember the glory of the empire and honestly they're some mixture of narcissists, sociopaths or both. Imagine your whole life you've been told that you represent the pinnacle of human achievement, and that your total purpose in life is to kill others who also represent the pinnacle of human achievement to make sure that your genes are the master genes that float around everyone that rules everyone else." She sipped at her coffee. "That, from my limited exposure, seems to be Centauri culture in a nutshell. So I'm honestly a little terrified of reaching out."

She paused "Also while everyone seems to think all the governments of Earth are clueless that there's like thousands of us here, that cannot possibly be the case. So. When I was a kid, our star blew up. That was ten or twelve years ago. A ton of Centauri with technical training and no real combat skills are here to support the invasion. The arm that pushes the spear you know? They were to make weapons and bombs and provide support services for the people like my mother who would be doing the force multiplication stuff. Blowing up dams, assassinating political figures, destabilizing society. That requires weapons, armor, bombs. vehicles. Those things require mechanics, armororers, engineers. There seems to be this thought among both the Centauri left behind and even my dad that surely nobody went immediately to the US government, asked for asylum in exchange for some cool weapons tech and gave up the whole fucking thing. Honestly, I find that premise absurd. Also given how strange new weapons are popping up all over the place I can't help but think that a bunch of Centauri science is loose in the wild. So, if I were to look for my people online, ninety percent of the responses would be weird kids who decided they are aliens instead of blue squirrels or catboys or whatever because being different is apaprently the same as being interesting. 1 percent would be actual centauri and the other nine would probably be feds. It'd be Steve Buscemi 'hello fellow kids' kinda thing. Honestly, I kinda just want to come clean with the government. I have birthright citizenship. The problem is there are people here who are legit refugees. I mean our star blew the fuck up. They'd definitely have some explaining to do though."

 

[Halcyon638]

Melanie listened, her expression a mixture of confusion but also rapt attention. “Hmm. That is…that is a lot to take in. I’m used to needing to acknowledge with my patients that I can’t fully understand their lived experience, but…usually, I at least have some frame of reference.”

She glanced over at the counter. “This may call for more tea. More coffee?”

The older woman walked to the counter. “Honestly, the closest analogue I can think of in terms of patients I’ve seen in the past is veterans. That feeling of having a particular experience that only a small percentage of people share that in some very real way sets you apart from nearly everyone in your day-to-day existence.” Pouring another cup of tea, she added, “But even then, they’re really well-served by having someone with that shared experience they can speak to.”

She sat down at the counter, looking slightly dismayed. “I’m sorry you don’t have that. I hope this at least a little helpful.” She extended a hand across the table toward Monica’s.

 

[siobhancan99]

"Fuck Mel, you're a fucking lifeline" She squeezed the older woman's hand. "This is one problem. It's not all my problems. Just having someone I can talk to at all is amazing. I can't thank you enough, really." She drank a little more of her coffee and sat back "So my lawyers want me to up my web presence and have an official Nighthawk tik tok. I was thinking I'd you know, have some catch phrase that seems like nonsense but is really the first half of a common centauri saying. See if anyone says it back.. you know?"

 

[Halcyon638]

The older woman smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

Mel’s phone chimed and she glanced at it quickly, then silenced it. “My apologies. TikTok…you may have just found the one subject that I’m even less familiar with than intergalactic space warriors.” She took another sip of her tea. “But that seems to make sense as a way to weed out the pretenders.”

The air conditioner rumbled up to a higher intensity. “We haven’t talked about the threesomes---threesome,” Melanie quickly corrected herself. “It sounded as if you were feeling conflicted about that last night. Would you like to talk about it some more?"

 

[siobhancan99]

"um. plural is accurate. wasn't our first." She sits back "Honestly. I think weird sex might be part of our thing? And I only say weird sex cause we're from Cottersville and it's seriously 1995 there." she sips at her coffee a little. "and I am conflicted. I liked it a lot and it was super hot but it sort of makes me feel guilty because emotionally I only love Gabi and I worry that getting into stuff with anyone else would interfere with that and god I can't imagine fucking that up over... some fucking. You know?"

 

[Halcyon638]

Mel nodded. “Sure. That’s understandable. I would say communication is the key. Discussing your boundaries, your expectations—if one of you is going into it because you want to share the intimacy you’ve developed as a couple with a third person with whom you have a deep connection, and the other is just looking for some fun sex, that is going to complicate things. And then setting boundaries—do you only share that person together? Can you hook up with them while the other person is away?” The hint of a smile on her lips, she added, “I know that can sap the spontaneity out of some of these situations which can be a big part of the appeal, but better before than after the fact.”

She placed her mug down gently. “And if you’re feeling guilty…you can find out if she shares the same worries. And if your guilt is related to…anything real or if you’re just internalizing society’s ideas about love and monogamy. Have you and Gabi talked about it?”

 

[siobhancan99]

"We've sort of talked about it and I don't think either of us has any real need to be fucking around without the other." She shifts "I sort of brought it up about her going home for summer and stuff. She was pretty clear about not really needing to mess around. For me, its like... fun." She brushes her hand through her hair "Honestly I miss her. It's only been a week but its lonely without her you know? She's always been around since we were kids in one fashion or another. Just the sound of her being around is really comforting. WHich you know is probably incredibly codependent or something" She grins at Mel "but honestly I'm pretty comfortable with needing her."

 

[Halcyon638]

“I miss that,” Mel said, looking down at the salt and pepper shakers in the center of the table. “I mean…missing someone in the way you do when you’re first in love. I still miss Paige of course, but it’s a different…kind of missing her now. I remember when we were first dating. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin when we were apart. When she wasn’t touching me. I needed her touch like…” She flushed a little and blinked, looking up at Monica as if temporarily lost in a reverie. “Sorry. This is your time.”

 

[siobhancan99]

"Oh no, you're human. How dare you be human during the free therapy you provide me." She rolled her eyes "plus hey, at least that makes one of us. huh? huh?" joking about her alien parentage. She grins over at Mel. "I think it is nice that you keep Paige in your heart like that, and I hope that you find someone to make you feel the same way again. You're a stunning woman, and you're kind and you're good. Mel, I don't want to say you'll find another Paige, because I didn't find another Tom. But I did find something that was beautiful and wonderful, even if it isn't Tom. It's its own thing. That's out there for you. I can keep an eye out, though I warn you I meet a lot of bad girls."

 

[Halcyon638]

Melanie smiled momentarily, reaching over to take Monica’s hand again for a moment. “Thank you.”

She glanced across the kitchen out into the adjoining living room. “They…they took my wedding ring. And a necklace…this necklace Paige gave me for my 40th birthday. Emerald.”

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica squeezed Mel's hand for a moment, then let it go "If you give me some pictures I can pop around to pawn shops in my more uh, official guise." She shrugged "At least I can keep an eye out for it. I know that stuff was important to you. It's important to have those memories to hang onto." She let go of Mel's hand, then began washing her cup out "So are we cleaning today or what?"

 

[Halcyon638]

“I appreciate that, but that’s not something Nighthawk needs to worry about,” she said. “I have the memories, even without the actual object. Thank you, though.”

The professor rose from her seat. “I suppose. I was trying to stall as long as possible but…” Grinning, she added, “I guess it needs to be done. And I should probably put some real clothes on.”

Monica provided more moral support than physical assistance, as the redhead knew where everything usually went and just needed to restore it to its usual organizational scheme. It remained cool inside, but outdoors, the temp was hovering around a feels like temperature of 93 degrees.

Mel insisted on making her lunch and driving her home, and Monica arrived back at her apartment at 3:09 that afternoon.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica spent the next few days getting acclimated at work, settling into the routine of starting to test the device and all the attendant paperwork. So much paperwork. By the end of the week she was ready to have a little fun. The burn on her shoulder wasn't quite as bad, but the stitches were still in on her arm.

It was hot, so she chose a flirty little black skirt, a backless black top and some daring heels to go out in. She facetimed Gabi a bit, wishing the pretty Latina was out with them, then headed out to the barcade. She took a good bit of cash with her, and an appetite. She hoped the food was good but at this point she'd settle for good AC.

 

[Halcyon638]

As Monica’s Uber was approaching Game Dive, she received a text from Gabi.

GABI: So…Zoe is probably going to be at the party we’re going to tonight. Is that cool? I’ll be on my best behavior.

When they had FaceTimed earlier, Gabi had talked about how she and a few coworkers from the pizza place were going to hit up a party after she got out (she was, as she’d discussed earlier with Monica, working all of Friday and Saturday and part of the day on Sunday to cover someone’s shift).

The barcade was unsurprisingly packed and noisy, with retro arcade game music and sound bytes playing on endless loops. Monica spotted two of her fellow interns, Ishani and Nelly, seated at a table. As she made her way through the crowd, she drew the attention of more than a few onlookers, mostly men.

Ishani was sipping what appeared to be a soda and was dressed in a flouncy purple top with a dark skirt, giving a little wave as Monica approached. Nelly’s light brown hair was down for once, and nicely framed her pretty face. She wore a charcoal v-neck tank top and a pair of cutoff jeans that showed off the long, graceful leg not shoved into a walking cast.

“ I don’t know. I think I could rock the heck out of a frilly bonnet,” Nelly said, nursing a hard cider. “I mean, don’t get me—” When Monica entered her line of sight, the girl seemed mildly distracted at the very least. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey, Monica,” Ishani said. “We were just talking about which historical period we would most like to live in purely for fashion reasons.” Nelly took a swig of her cider and waved. “I chose the early Mughal empire or the 1960s,” the dark-haired girl continued.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica texts back "I trust you. First I know you wouldn't be naughty, and secondly if you wanted to be bad we could talk about it ;-). Love you, have fun."

She slid into a chair, crossing her long legs. She flagged down a waitress and ordered a coke, and a dozen wings and some fries. She turned back to her companions and regarded the two for a long moment "Interesting. I'd go early 1990s for the pure comfort of it of course. For fashion. Hm." She reflected "Sharp tailoring in the Edwardian period. Little stiff for me though" She hmmmed and looked around "roaring 20s? the whole flapper thing." She looked around "Wendell coming?" then turned her attention back to her companions. She shifted a little in her chair, looking over at Nelly "I can see you in a frilly bonnet. or maybe a hardcore pilgrim outfit. You gonna churn some butter goody Nell?"

 

[Halcyon638]

Ishani nodded. “Oh, those are good calls. I like the flapper look. Sometimes I want to chop this all off,” she said, raising a hand to motion toward her long, dark curls.

“If you do, you better Locks of Love that shiz my way,” Nelly said. Reaching over, she mimed a zombie grasping for Ishani’s hair. “Give me your hair, Ishaaanni.”

The waitress stopped over with Monica’s drink. “Thank you,” Nelly said at Monica’s remark about the bonnet, then laughing at her pilgrim reference. “Calculating how many seconds I could last in puritan country before getting stoned to death or burnt as a witch.”

At the reference to Wendell, Nelly glanced across the room where he and Evan were playing a Mortal Kombat cabinet. Evan was dressed in nondescript clothes, while Wendell was rocking full metalhead gear, down to a spiked wristband. “Yeah, he’s here. Being the super genius I am, I went ahead and suggested we all go out to do a thing that involves standing constantly.” She motioned to her leg. “So, Ishani’s been keeping my dumb butt company while the boys play with their sticks.” She turned toward the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder dramatically. “I release you.”

“I’ll be coming back,” Ishani said, making her way over to where the guys stood.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Nelly said to Monica, “but you do gotta share some of those fries.” Smiling, she added, “You look like you’re on the prowl tonight, sis. If you need a wingwoman, you should know I work for fatty foods.”

 

[siobhancan99]

"Please, you're gonna play games with us. Just because you were foolish enough to suggest a standing activity doesn't mean you get out of it." She gestured at the sort of higher stools around the tables that were made for standing by or sitting. "we will grab one of those and take it around. NObody will care." She sat back and ate some fries, then attacked the wings. There was just no good way to eat a saucy wing, so she had a pile of napkins available. "also, thanks." She nodded to Nelly, in response to her comment about looking good. "Just because I'm off the menu doesn't mean I don't want people to look. When Gabi is around people look cause its like, hey two pretty girls. But honestly? She's the real draw. When we were in High School I was 'the hot one' of our friendship. Tall, blond, in good shape. She was shy and a little overweight and mousy. Then. Boom. Last summer she shed a little weight and now she's this curvy bombshell." She dug out her phone, showing Nelly some pictures of Gabi from Austin's lake party. "So I don't necessarily get a lot of looks when she's around. At least in my head."

 

[Halcyon638]

“Deal,” Nelly said, eyeing the various arcade cabinets. “Somebody’s gotta show these jokers how it’s done.”

She leaned over to look at Monica’s phone. “Oh. Wow. Yeah, I could see how she would, um…attract a little attention.”

Smiling, Nelly said, “Well, you got her to look at you, and isn’t that what matters most?”

The brown-haired girl pulled out her phone and brought up some photos of her own girlfriend, Kasey. She was a well-built woman dressed in flannels and jeans who looked to be at least in her late twenties, with a carefree smile and short, auburn hair in the pics where a baseball cap wasn’t covering most of it. “This is my lady friend,” Nelly said. “It’ll be…six months? Next week.”

They made their way over to the other interns. Evan and Wendell greeted them as the metal enthusiast and Ishani played a fighting game. Wendell was getting the best of her. “Ishani, you don’t got to go home but you gotta get the heck up out of here,” he declared as he rained kicks and punches on her avatar.

“This game is so janky,” Ishani protested. “The controls are terrible.”

“Alright, ‘Shani. Tag me in,” Nelly demanded. “Mon, can you grab me that stool? Someone needs to teach this guy some proper manners.”

“I got it,” Evan said, walking away to grab the stool.

Across the crowded room, Monica spotted Cristina and a guy around her age walking through. Gabi’s friend was wearing a short, dark blue dress patterned with small white flowers. The guy she was with was handsome, with big, brown eyes, a stubbly, rugged jawline, dressed in a casual button-down shirt and jeans. He bore a possible familiar resemblance to the young trans woman.

A reply from Gabi came in.

GABI: Love you, carino. Hope you have fun, too!