Super?

My Heart Inside Of Your Hands

       The first thing I ask is, "Did he like the shirt?"
       "He loved the shirt," Dave corrects me. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. I look out the window and see that we're approaching closer to our destination- Marie's house.
       "I didn't know you were into photography," I tell him, glancing back. He shrugs, his smile dimming a bit.
       "I lost interest, I guess," he replies vaguely. "But I still kept that picture of Ollie. It's in my billfold." With one hand he pulls said billfold from his back pocket and hands it to me. When I fold it open, I see the photo of Ollie tucked into the little clear plastic compartment usually used for IDs. It's exactly as Dave described it, only better.
       "Wow. This is a really cool photo," I say, looking up at my friend. "Seriously. You must've been good. Really good." I look at the photo, at the younger Ollie.
       "I was ok," he replies. His voice is firm and says don't push it, so I don't. I've never heard Dave speak with anything less than an amused tone, so I suspect that something must've happened. I let him have his secrets. I'll have mine. I close the billfold and quietly hand it back to him. He looks at me and sees the muted look on my face. "I'm sorry," he sighs. "It's just a sensitive subject, ok?" I nod in understanding, and he gives me a strained smile.
       We drive in silence until we arrive at Marie's. It's the quiet, residential part of this city, on the outskirts. There's no flashy billboards or police sirens, nothing like what I'm accustomed to. Her house is a quaint little blue-painted two-story- white curlicue trim and little shutters. Basically the works.
       "God, this is such a bad idea," I mutter under my breath. Nerves are creeping up from my stomach and into my throat. Dave gives me an amused glance.
       "That's not what you said when we left. If I recall, you thought it was rather 'brilliant,'" he teases me. I don't reply with sarcasm because I have no humorous words left to say. I'm too nervous.
       "What if I'm wrong? What if Taylor isn't in any actual danger? What if I'm just screwing myself by doing this?" I hedge. Dave gives me his trademark Oh, please look.
       "And what if you're right, and you're going to do absolutely nothing about it? You're a hero now, Maya. It's-"
       "...my duty. Yeah, yeah. I know. I just- I used to hate her so much, you know? There were times where she could've killed me and I could've killed her. Back when I kidnapped Dominic and I was still under Reggie's... control, I got into a little fight with her in the crappy part of town near Giorgi's. I had no idea that Dominic was her son. None. I was such an idiot." I press my thumb to my temples and let out a slow breath. "She was so mad... She was livid. She wanted to kill me, I think. I didn't know why. But now I do. I didn't think that I would've survived. But finally I managed to get the upper hand," I say, leaving out the how, "and I left her lying there. I could've- I could've done something awful. But I didn't."
       "It's because you're a good person, Maya. Underneath everything, I think you're truly good." His eyes are so peaceful, so trusting. I can't look at him.
      "Don't... Don't say that. You don't know what I've done. I didn't kill Taylor, but there were other people..." I look down, swallowing hard. Dave places his hand on my shoulder in a semblance of comfort.
       "We've had this discussion before, Maya. So you know what I'm going to say. I know you hate it when I try to pull some little psychobabble on you, so I'm not going to. But I just want you to know that I think you're wrong. Now get out there. Find Taylor. Then find Dominic, and bring him home." He rewards me with a crooked smile.
       "You say that like it's so easy," I laugh bitterly. He just shakes his head, and finally I cloak myself and step out of the car. The lights are dark in Marie's home, but against all reason I still hold onto the hope that she's inside. It's the weirdest feeling. Dave gives me an encouraging wave and, again, I wave back even though he can't see me. I watch as he pulls away and then finally I muster all of the strength from my quickly-beating heart and I walk up to Marie's front steps. She has little lawn gnomes lining the pavement sidewalk up to her home, and a miniature koi pond with one of those decorative waterfalls. I can't decide if it's tacky or charming.
       "Marie?" I call softly through the screened window, and rap on the wooden front door. Nobody answers for a good minute, but then I hear little clicking sounds coming from the hardwood floor from inside. I freeze, but then I see a little fluffy white dog pop its head up into the space between the window screen and the curtain from inside. Its tail wags furiously and its tongue hangs out lazily from the side of its mouth. It's pretty adorable and and would probably make a terrible guard dog, given the fact that it's no taller than my knee. And I'm pretty short.
       The dog can't see me, but it continues to stare outside, waiting for the person who knocked on the door. Just when I'm distracted by the ridiculous little pooch, the door swings open and I have to scramble so it doesn't hit me and give me away.
       With the door swung all the way open, I stand right before a red-faced Marie. She looks very ticked off. Maybe this wasn't the best time.
       "Who's there?" she barks so loudly that it hurts my ears, given that she's standing right before me. The little white dog jumps down from its perch on the windowsill and wreaths around Marie's ankles. My heart hammers even louder, and I take a deep, quiet breath to calm myself down.
        "Don't freak out," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Marie freezes when she hears my voice, her eyes flickering around wildly. Slowly, I back away, and when I'm a good foot away I make myself visible, a la Guardian Angel style. She blinks rapidly and backs away, too.
       "You're that girl. From the news," she says, giving me a once-over. Admittedly, she's handling this better than I thought she would. Maybe she's just been desensitized to superheroes, being the sister of Taylor and all. Allegedly. She looks almost nothing like Taylor- the only indication that she's even Latina is the slightest tint to her skin. But they have the same endearing eyes, the ones that are always brimming with emotion, like they hold all of the world in them.
       "That's me," I reply, giving an awkward half-wave. "I'm so sorry for scaring you. I just... your neighbors. And I wasn't entirely sure if you would answer the door if I was standing behind it. It's... It's about Taylor," I explain awkwardly. She hesitates before stepping aside, holding the door open.
       "Come on in," she replies, her eyes glancing around before letting me step inside. She quickly shuts the door behind her, the lock clicking in place. When we're both inside, she walks over the tiny galley-style kitchen and opens the fridge, looking over her shoulder at me. "Do you want some tea?" Like I'm her old book-club buddy coming by for a visit.
       "No, thank you," I say carefully. She nods and pulls out a little plastic bottle of Lipton tea before sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. Marie stares at me expectantly and finally I sit down across from her. She takes a long, thoughtful sip of her tea before capping it and folding her hands under her chin. I tilt my head down, making sure the hood fully flops over my face. She seems keen on examining me, and I can't exactly blame her. If some sketchy new superhero showed up at my home claiming to know something about my sister, I'd kind of want to know why.
       "What about Taylor? You trying to fish for information on where she is? 'Cause there ain't no way I'm telling you." There's a faint Southern lilt to her voice that I hadn't recognized before. Even though her accent is friendly enough, her eyes are hard and narrow. She looks fiercely protective of Taylor, and it makes my heart ache for my own sister in a way that I've never felt before.
       "I know. I don't need to know where she is." Because I already have a good idea on my own. "I just need you to tell her something." Her eyes narrow down even more until they're just slits, like she's squinting into the sun.
       "Well, spit it out, hon." Her voice is gruff but also curious. As I'm running over what exactly to say in my mind, my eyes drift over her kitchen decor. She's obviously very proud of her Southern heritage, because she has cowboy boot and cactus and bull paraphernalia galore. Judging by her very faint accent, she must've moved here a while ago but likes to stay true to her roots. I find that respectable, but I think she could tone down with the aggressive memorabilia that lines every single spare inch of space. Even her toaster is cow-print.
       "Um. How do I say this? Do you know who Ivory is?" I ask. At her raised eyebrows, my cheeks redden slightly. Duh. Everyone knows who Ivory is. Get to the point, Waterman. You're running out of time. "Right. Well. I have enough sufficient evidence collected from various sources-" (Yes, I do feel cool saying 'sources,' thankyouverymuch) "-to believe that he is indeed alive. And he's coming after Taylor," I finish bluntly. She blinks once. Twice. Three times.
       "And why should I believe you?" she asks, folding her thick arms across her chest. Fair enough. Don't believe the creepy person wearing a hoodie and sitting in your kitchen spouting tabloid-worthy crap about your sister's old flame.
       "I don't actually have a good answer to that question. But I think Taylor's in danger. You don't have to believe me. I just want you to warn Taylor to be on the alert," I reply, raising my hands up in surrender. She sits back, making her chair creak in protest. She's definitely mastered the Glare of Intimidation. She would make Reggie proud.
       "You think she's in danger?" she drawls, her voice tinged with unconcealed amusement at my expense. "With all due respect, she's a blessed superhero. And the only one who knows where she is is me. I'm pretty sure she can hold her own."
       "Yeah, and he's a really powerful super-villain. Who managed to fake his death for countless years. Oh, and he can teleport. And can do God knows what else. So yeah. No reason to worry. Just another Monday for Crimson," I say dryly. Marie watches me in silence, her busty chest rising and falling with each breath.
       "Let's say, hypothetically, that what you're saying is true and that he's alive and looking for her. What makes you think he can find her in the first place? You might find it hard to believe, but when Taylor Garcia wants to hide, she'll stay hidden," Marie retorts. She has full confidence in her every word. She seems to have no doubt in her sister. It makes me wonder how much she really knows about Taylor. Did she know about her affair before the press found out? Did Taylor tell her that Dominic might be alive right before she left? Sisters share everything and all that.
       "Did Taylor tell you anything about a hard drive that was left at her house last night before she left?" I ask, avoiding her question for the time being. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. At her impassive glare, I give a small nod of satisfaction. That's what I thought. "Then you know that Dominic-"
       "Whoever sent her that is a very cruel person for giving her reason to believe that her son may still be alive," Marie interrupts, her voice cold and unflinching. I recoil, unable to keep the surprise stifled from my reaction to her words.
       "Do you have the hard drive with you now?" I inquire quickly, struggling to keep the sting of hurt from my words. Am I a cruel person for giving a grieving mother hope that may be false? Even when there's reason to believe that the universe may be on her side and her son may still be alive? (If not in the clutches of a criminal mastermind.)
       "She took it with her. God love her, but she's a fool if you ask me." Her lips purse together in a thin line and her eyes flash as she realizes something. She meets my gaze slowly. "How do you know about all this anyway?" Her voice is dangerously low.
       "Please. I just need you to tell Taylor that she might be in danger," I bleat. She stands up, forcing the chair back a few feet. She looks like a force to be reckoned with when she's drawn up to her full height. I'm definitely a good head shorter than she is. Never mind that I have superpowers.
       "I think my sister has had her head messed with enough without people like you trying to tell her more lies. Why do you think she's kept her affair with that man a secret for so long? She wasn't in her right mind when she fooled around with him, and she knows that. She's trying to do right now. Had to go to therapy for three years after Dominic was born, trying to get rid of her nightmares about that man and all that crap. How do you think she feels having everybody look at her like she's some kind of... some kind of tease? Classic hero-falls-for-villain stereotype? She's tried to put the past behind her, but people like you are determined to just keep dredging it up. I don't need you telling her that the source of all her misery is alive after she's celebrated his death." After that tirade, she takes a few steps forward until she's looking down on me. "I think you need to leave."
       "If you don't let her know, I will," I threaten. "I get that you're trying to protect her, but I'm not screwing with you, I swear. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. Look, I get nightmares and therapy and wanting to put the past behind you, I do. But when your past comes up to slap you in the face and you're not prepared... Well... I'm just saying, if he's alive, she needs to know," I argue. "How would you feel if he did kidnap your sister and you knew that he was alive but didn't warn her?"
       "Are you trying to threaten me?" she growls. I take another step back, but her meaty arm surges out and grabs my arm roughly, pulling me up toward her until my hood falls back and we're eye-to-eye. Luckily I still have my pretty-and-brunette facade in place, but I feel exposed nevertheless. "Maybe I'd be more likely to believe you if you weren't hiding underneath that hood," she hisses. Shit. Shit. This isn't how this was supposed to pan out.
        "Please," I whisper. "He already has Dominic. And I think he's coming for her next." Shock flashes across Marie's face and she loosens her hold on me enough for me to tug free. We both just stare at each other for the longest time.
        "Again, why should I believe you?" she finally asks. She looks less like she's going to try and strangle me now, but I still keep a few paces back just in case.
        "Because I'm the Guardian Angel," I reply with a weak smile, "and protecting people is kind of my duty now. I'm trying to right a few wrongs I've made in the past. And I need to start by saving this boy and his mother- your nephew and your sister. Will you please help me?" Again she lapses into silence, and I wait for the inevitable 'no' to escape from her lips. But she surprises me by saying different.
        "Fine. But I don't trust you. I'm only doing this for Taylor. And for Dominic, if he's really alive. If you turn out to be who I think you are, I'm going to find a very creative way to murder you, hear me?"
        Who exactly do you think I am?