(THE “S” STANDS FOR HOPE) CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE: TAMMY

Tammi had learned, very early on, that being tolerated was not the same as being wanted, and that distinction had shaped far more of her life than she liked to admit. Even within her own blood family, affection had always come with strings attached, something that could be withdrawn the moment she stepped out of line. That was why they watched her so closely, why every choice she made was scrutinized, and why returning to the Herren Clan had never really been a question of if so much as when. 

They never once doubted their right to decide her future for her. They had told her, again and again, that everything they did was for her own good, that discipline was love and obedience was safety, and that the world beyond them was waiting to chew her up and spit her out the moment she stumbled.

She had believed them, once.

It took years to understand that their concern was only another form of control, dressed up as guidance and rules that left no room to breathe. Even after she ran, even after life dragged her through prison and eventually into the Empire, some part of her had carried that lesson with her like a bruise that never quite faded. 

She knew she was not anyone’s favorite, and she knew what she was to people: useful, manageable, and convenient. Never irreplaceable.

But Victor and Othala had changed that.

At least, she had thought they had.

They had not rescued her in some grand, cinematic way, nor had they promised her freedom in words that sounded too rehearsed to be sincere. What they did instead was far more dangerous. 

They had treated her as though she mattered, even when there was no audience to impress, as though her thoughts and efforts carried worth beyond what she could provide in a fight or how useful she might be to someone else’s plans. They had taken her training seriously, corrected her mistakes without belittling her, listened when she spoke, and included her even when they did not need to.

Over time, those small mercies accumulated into something that felt uncomfortably like belonging, and soon, they became familiar to her in ways no one ever had before. They learned their habits, learned to recognize the shifts in tone that signaled when Victor was thinking too hard or when Othala was quietly worried about something she did not want to voice. 

She let herself believe it meant something.

But Tammi had known, somewhere deep down, that it might not last. She was not naive enough to believe that the Empire was a place where kindness came without conditions, or that Victor and Othala were saints untouched by the ideology they served. Even so, she had allowed herself to hope that what they had offered her was different, that the attention they paid her was born from actual affection and not simply convenience or strategy. 

She had let herself believe she had found a family.

But what sort of family abandoned each other without a word? 

Apparently, hers did.

In some ways, she could understand leaving. Brockton Bay was not a forgiving place, and the Empire had a way of consuming its own when the balance of power shifted. Running made sense, pragmatically, especially for people with the resources and foresight to see the writing on the wall. What she could not reconcile was finding out that they had left through secondhand information and the uneasy confirmation that came when questions went unanswered for too long.

What she could not reconcile was being left leaving her with the sickening understanding that they thought her either not worth informing or not worth bringing along.

Had they thought her too entrenched in the Empire that she would refuse to go?

The question twisted painfully in her chest, because the answer seemed obvious in hindsight. All she knew was the Empire, the routines and hierarchies and unspoken rules that had shaped her entire cape career. Walking away should have terrified her.

Instead, she knew, with a certainty that startled her even now, that she would have followed them without hesitation.

She would have dropped everything, turned her back on Kaiser and the debt she felt she owed him for taking care of her after prison, and followed Victor and Othala wherever they chose to go. If only they had asked, she would have done it gladly, because she trusted them that much, and because she loved them in the uncomplicated, earnest way that only someone starved of affection ever could.

That was how much they had meant to her. 

And they had not even considered her in their plans.

That was what hurt the most.

. . . . .

The city spread out below her in a wash of muted lights and distant movement, Brockton Bay at night wearing its familiar mask of indifferent violence. From this height, the noise softened into something almost gentle, traffic and sirens blurring together until they became a constant, unobtrusive hum. 

It did nothing to ease the ache inside her.

Tammi sat with her back against the concrete lip of the rooftop, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them as though she might physically hold herself together if she tried hard enough. She had chosen one of Brockton Bay’s few high rises because it was tall and mostly abandoned at night, because no one came here unless they were looking for solitude or trouble, and because it offered just enough privacy that she could finally let herself fall apart without worrying about being seen.

Still, the first sob had caught her by surprise, and the next tore out of her before she could stop it. But after that, there was no holding back.

She cried for what she had lost and for what she had never truly had, for the foolish hope she had clung to, and for the familiar certainty that she would always be alone.

She cried until her throat ached and her eyes burned, her hands shaking as she pressed them against her face in a futile attempt to hold herself together.

When the tears finally slowed, she felt oddly empty. But she had enough wherewithal to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, slightly embarrassed by the evidence of her own weakness even with no one around to see it.

At least, she thought she was alone.

A shadow passed over the rooftop, and the air shifted just enough to raise the hairs along her arms. Tammi went still, and then instinct forced her head up, eyes widening as she scanned the rooftop and the open sky beyond it, heart stuttering as a dozen possibilities raced through her mind.

She saw him then, descending slowly against the backdrop of the city lights, the now iconic red and blue of his suit catching the glow as he came to a gentle stop a short distance away.

Superman had arrived.