The Things We Do (Under Editing)

Strength in Numbers

Three grad students against a man who had been playing crime lord about as long as we'd been alive wasn't very good odds, even with my recent experience. We needed someone who actually knew what they were doing, but someone who was still willing to bend the rules a little. Wraith wasn't going down strictly within the confines of the law.

It wasn't hard to track down Matthew's phone number. The internet is a very helpful thing.

The three of us sat crosslegged in a circle on the roof like scheming children, the others watching me make the call.

Because that wasn't stressfull...

I took a deep breath and hit the call button.

Matthew picked up on the second ring despite it still being just after sunrise.

"What can I help you with, Amelia?" He sounded tired. I could imagine him at his desk, surrounded by paperwork and investigation notes, rubbing his eyes. Some of that was probably my fault.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to gather my courage. It settled instead as a pit in the bottom of my stomach. Kacie and Elliot caught my eye and nodded in unison. I almost laughed at the absurdity of a villain and a college student in her pajamas playing moral support together. The edge of hysterical is a terrible place, would not recommend it as a vacation spot.

"I have some information for you about Phantom Banshee."

There was an indiscernible thump from the other side of the line. Either Matthew had dropped something, or he'd fallen over.

The heavy drag in his voice disappeared. "That's great! You can swing by the station and we can talk."

"Actually, this is something I'd be more comfortable talking about in a familiar environment. Would it be OK to meet at my friend's apartment?" I tried to sound a little uncertain and potentially traumatized. I felt bad about the minor manipulation, but it wasn't entirely an act and we needed to have this conversation in private.

He hesitated only a moment. "Of course. Whatever makes this easier for you." I wasn't sure that was proper protocol, but though it had been weeks since my last mission, they were desperate to catch me.

When I hung up, Elliot climbed to his feet first and started heading towards the fire escape. "I'll meet you there. I should probably change before meeting with a detective."

We'd agreed that Kacie's apartment was the best meeting place because she lived alone and we didn't want to drag Mel into this as well. However, this left me stranded in my costume because my apartment was in the opposite direction.

I made the mistake of asking if I could borrow clothes.

Somehow I'd momentarily forgotten that my best friend was majoring in fashion design, and that she thrived off of makeovers. She took full advantage of the time before Matthew and Elliot arrived to throw together what she decided to call my mission outfit.

"Technically what I was already wearing was my mission outfit."

"This is a different kind of mission so it needs a different outfit."

Watching her was actually kind of impressive. She worked like a movie montage, throwing outfits together in seconds, then immediately throwing them apart while making a face. Three different leather jackets appeared from the back of her closet and took turns paired with every other piece of clothing she owned that was even remotely practical.

She kept asking for my opinion of combinations as if I actually had any sense of style. There's a reason my original costume was literally a t-shirt and jeans with a coat. It kept me thinking, though, about something other than everything we were facing. She knew how to keep me from crumbling.

Still, I can only handle changing clothes so many times. I was on the verge of refusing to put up with it any longer when she lit up like a firework.

The final look was deemed "poetic." Not by me, clearly. With a black leather jacket over a black shirt and dark red pants, my colors were inverted: black layered over red. Apparently it was something about me finally reclaiming the color without being too obvious.

Unfortunately, my friend isn't a huge fan of practical shoes, so we just removed the trademark red straps from around my combat boots.

With the outfit finally complete, I looked at myself in the mirror. "I look like a YA protagonist."

"You look good." She handed me a hair tie and demanded a ponytail. "Besides, this is a better

outfit than what you had on."

I scoffed and threw a pillow at her.

We both startled at a knock at the door. All humor fled the room as we met each others' eyes. She looked a little sick as the reality of everything settled again. When we walked into the kitchen, Elliot was sitting at the table.

Kacie stopped. "How did you...?"

"Window."

She looked back and forth between him and the window a few times, brows knit together. I folded my arms.

"You're wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It's a miracle." It was my turn to relieve the group anxiety a little.

"Says the YA protagonist," he shot back.

I looked pointedly at Kacie and she groaned, going to answer the door.

Matthew stepped into the apartment, glancing at each of us in turn before his gaze settled on me. "I see this is some kind of event."

"Something like that." I gestured towards the table and we all took places around it, Kacie providing glasses of water for everyone so that I could avoid awkward questions by taking a drink. She knows me so well.

I claimed the seat directly across from Matthew so that I could lean on the table and look him in the eye. I choked on my voice in my first attempt to speak, but I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and forced the fear down, as I'd done on each of my missions. This was just a new mission. The consequences were no worse this time around.

Besides, I'd come too far to stop. The only way I could move was forward.

I opened my eyes, facing my future head on.

"I'm Phantom Banshee."