Bonesaw walked slowly down the sidewalk, on her way back to the house Jack had found for them. Even though she was one of the most wanted criminals on the planet, no one paid her any mind. She wasn’t wearing her apron or her tools so no one paid the blond preadolescent girl any more than a passing glance. Had they looked closely they might have noticed that some of the stains on her clothes and “dirt” in her hair was in fact dried blood, but today was not a day to pay close attention to things in Brockton Bay.
Usually when she was upset she cheered herself up by creating some new and interesting art, but right now she didn’t feel like cheering up. Daddy-Jack was dead. She had asked him for a unicorn and now he was dead. It was strange to think about, how he wouldn’t be there any more. He wouldn’t tell her any more bed time stories about the old days and the original Slaughterhouse Nine. No more patient insightful critiques of her art, no one to give her those small pieces of perfect advice when she was frustrated or down. No more Daddy at all.
She guessed she had, in her head, accepted that some day Jack wouldn’t be there. He was starting to get a little older, a little slower. When she saw that her understanding of biology had told her it was only a matter of time until the day he was just to slow. Her heart hadn’t accepted that though, how could there be a world without Daddy? Why hadn’t he seen, why hadn’t he moved when the bad unicorn had started to get all glowy? She had never seen Jack surprised, but just before the end he was. He looked surprised, and now that strange expression that didn’t belong to Daddy-Jack at all would always be the way she remembered him.
Bonesaw might have gone and seen what had been left of Jack had that place not felt so wrong. Every step closer to the place where Jack had died made her feel worse, worse than she could ever remember feeling. Bad memories that didn’t make any sense. So she had taken off her apron and run away from that place until the awful memories had stopped. Since then she had slowly been wandering back to the house, the others would want to know if Cherish hadn’t told them yet.
She didn’t think they would be a family much longer. Daddy-Jack was the one that had kept them together and made everyone sit down to dinner together. Crawler would try to fight Momma-Siberian and either she would let him and he would die, or she wouldn’t and he would go away and die. He wasn’t as tough as he liked to think he was. Mannequin might stay or he might continue his quest alone. Bonesaw liked him, but he wasn’t much of a sharer. Cherish would stay because she was a naughty sister that thought Daddy-Jack and Bonesaw didn’t know she was trying to slowly brainwash the rest of the family. Daddy-Jack had been so looking forward to surprising her, now he never would.
Without Daddy’s guidance she thought Burnscar would drift away, the heroes would get her, eventually. Shatterbird would leave, Daddy-Jack was the only one she thought was smart and mature enough to talk to. She would make a mess first. It wasn’t fair, she had asked for a unicorn and now her whole family was going to go away. It wasn’t fair at all.
She was so lost in thought she didn’t see the woman in the suit until she was right in front of her. She wasn’t in top mental shape right now, but something about her made Bonesaw uneasy. Before she could formulate her scattered thoughts the woman spoke.
“It’s dangerous out here today. You should be a good girl and get home as quick as you can.” With that the woman stepped past her. By the time Bonesaw’s mind had caught up informing her how strange that encounter was she spun around to find the woman was nowhere to be seen. Quickening her pace she reached the house only a few minutes later. She really wanted a hug, but after looking around the only one home was Cherish. She was laying on the floor next to the living room window, breathing shallowly with a look of fear etched on her face. ‘Hmmm,’ she thought looking down at Cherish. The others must still all be out recruiting their own candidates for the open position in the Nine.
She took one of the oversized white aprons off a hook by the door and ducked her head under the neck loop before walking downstairs to the basement. After they had moved in Jack had given her the basement to use as her artist studio. Body parts hung from a series of hooks along the wall and a couple of industrial shelving units held all of her current stock of electronics. A few uncompleted works stood unmoving in the corner where she had left them earlier and Hatchet Face’s body lay on the big wooden table in the center of the room, breathing through a cobbled together ventilator until she decided what to do with him. She’d been lucky enough to get to him right after Cherish killed him to take his place as part of the Nine.
She really wanted someone to hug right now. Bonesaw’s mind quickly flashed to the image of the cute purple alien unicorn and she braced one arm against the table as a few tears trickled down her face. No she didn’t want that bad unicorn anymore. A thought struck her and she jolted upright. She looked around the room again taking in all the parts she had, she looked at Hatchet Face, and then she turned her eyes upwards towards the ceiling and Cherish laying in a fugue state above. Bonesaw walked over to the shelves and pulled down a toolbox. Some of the other’s candidates would fail, and she could probably convince them to give her the left overs. Momma-Siberian could find her anything special she needed.
She didn’t want the bad unicorn, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make one. A good one.