Bain sat in the small waiting room, one foot tapping rapidly on the ground.

Was he sweating? He didn't know he could do that. Maybe it was air moisture. From the air. Yeah, that made sense, right? He wasn't sweating.

His foot increased in speed.

This was a big deal. Wasn't it? Stitches seemed pretty calm about it, so maybe it wasn't. Was he really going to be a sidekick? Would there be questions? An interrogation? What if they had a lie detector test and he failed? What if his monster biology made him fail? Wait, were there laws against a monster being a hero? What if that was the reason he'd never been accepted? No, that was unlikely. What if-

His thoughts were interrupted by the small and yet somehow terrifyingly huge door in front of him opening. Stitches stepped out with a blank expression on his face. There was no smile, no tired glare, nothing. He simply glanced at Bain and told him, "You can go in now."

Standing up abruptly, Bain took a step forward and tripped from the crater his foot had left in the ground. He tried to recover and failed horribly, twisting on one foot and falling over. Face rushing towards the ground, his eyes widened.

He stopped moving about an inch from the floor and then was slowly tilted back up to his feet. Stitches had one finger on his carapace, and said in the same monotonous tone, "You can go in." Bain stared at him, eyes wide with terror, and Stitches's expression finally cracked into an annoyed frown. "Go in. Now."

Turning, he left the room, leaving Bain with the open door in front of him. The doorway loomed before him, reaching up and up until Bain felt as though he was a mouse on the floor, a rodent beneath a superior predator. He was shivering from the roiling ball of emotions cannoning through him, and his claws unconsciously flexed, itching to relieve the incredible stress on something more physical.

From past the horrific portal, Benedict's voice called quietly, "Bain? Are you coming in or not?"

Bain forced the trembling to stop, curled his claws into fists, and gulped in a heaving breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this afraid. Why was he afraid? What did he have to lose? Breathing out shakily, he swallowed again. Why was his mouth so dry?

He lifted one foot and the step seemed to last for ages, going up in the air and then falling downward onto the floor. He picked up the other foot and took another step.

There was a loud grating noise coming from somewhere, and in the back of Bain's brain he vaguely realized it was the sound of his teeth grinding against each other.

"Bain! Please come in immediately."

The unbelievable pressure compressed into a tight ball of anxiety, finding just the slightest crack of release in the command. Bain zipped through the doorway and stood in front of the desk, breathing heavily. Benedict was seated at the desk, wearing a pair of circular reading glasses and holding a sheaf of papers. He raised an eyebrow at the shaking monster and coughed politely. "Please sit."

Bain sat.

He was definitely sweating.

Benedict organized the documents, tapping the corners with his gloved fingers, gently rapping the bottom on the desk. Every movement the man made was instantly processed and overthought by the distressed monster, and his leg started jogging in place in front of him.

Benedict leaned forward, placing the papers on the table and steepling his fingers. "Please state your name."

Bain actually flinched from the question, his mouth opening slightly. "Uhhh..."

The representative's eyebrow raised higher. "Are you stating your name as 'uhhh' or are you simply postponing the inevitable?"

Bain shook his head rapidly, his shoulders raising from his anxiety. "No sir, my Bain is name. I mean, is name my Bain. I mean-"

Benedict pulled out a pen and rapped it loudly on the desk. The sound rang out in the quiet room, and Bain's instincts crystallized, focusing in on the sound and diffusing the tight core in his chest slightly. Benedict looked him in the eyes, or at least looked him in the front pair of eyes. "Bain. This is not a difficult procedure. Please get yourself together or I will have to ask you to leave."

Now that got the monster's attention. Bain closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself. He tried to become aware of every corner of the room, of all the movements in it. Predict the bugs' paths. Trace the light to its end. Follow the sound floating just inside his register, just like Nahma had taught him. This was not a crowd of staring humans. This was not a fight with Stitches. It was just an interview.

His shoulders lowered as he exhaled, opening his eyes. That little ball of terror was still there, but it wasn't affecting him as much. "My name is Bain." Benedict smiled thinly and wrote it down. "Thank you. Please state your name of address." Bain nodded, running the question through his brain. "I live in the subway under Centropolis." The man nodded stiffly. "And your phone number?" Bain shook his head. "I don't have a phone." Benedict's eyes narrowed, but he eventually shrugged and sat back. "Very well. Repeat after me."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The fear returned with a vengeance. This was it. This was the legendary (was it legendary? It probably was) oath that every registered hero in the Tower took. The words that would turn Bain from a creature to run from to a presence to run to. This was what he needed. This was what he'd been waiting for.

He sucked in another huge breath, repeating the focus exercise one more time. "I'm ready." Benedict began speaking, Bain repeating every word he said.

"I," He paused for a moment and said bluntly, "Please just say your name here." He continued. "do hereby swear-"

"I, Bain, do hereby swear."

"-to protect and serve, to save those in need, and to defend this city against all that would do it harm."

"To protect and serve, save those in need, and defend this city against every threat."

"To be kind when needed, to be tough when needed, and to provide an aura of comfort."

"To be kind and tough when needed, and to provide comfort."

"To rescue those in need of rescue, to go beyond what others expect of you, and to never take the life of another."

Bain swallowed hard. He could barely talk past the raging drought in his mouth. "To rescue those that need it, to go beyond what others expect of me, and to-" His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he coughed hard. Gritting his teeth, he forced out from his unwilling mouth, "-to never take the life of another." With bated breath, he awaited the next phrase of the vow.

Benedict smiled thinly. "Congratulations. You're a sidekick."

Bain blinked. Was that it?

The man stood up from his chair, collecting his documents, and then went around the desk to face the confused monster. Reaching forward, he shook Bain's hand and looked him in the face, stating frankly, "Just so you know, this wasn't my idea. Blame them instead."

As he left the room, he flicked a switch and the walls of the small room were yanked upwards, the desk quickly lowering to become flush with the floor. Spinning around, eyes wide, Bain lifted his claws and-

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

Bain's jaw dropped. Stitches was standing in an almost entirely empty room decorated with balloons and streamers, a badly made single-tiered cake with several melting candles in front of him. Despite the many tables and chairs in the room, there were only three people present.

"George?" The monster had never been more confused.

The hoodie-clad teenager walked up to him with a rainbow party hat on, grinning hugely. "Man, you won't believe this! They tracked me down to the arcade and told me you were getting sworn in. I just had to be here! I'm so excited for you!" He punched Bain's arm, a massive smile on his face. Bain blinked rapidly, wondering if he was allergic to the streamers. It was the only reason he could think of for the liquid welling up in the corner of his eyes.

Speaking of streamers...

"Ayyy, bro! Howza doin? No hard feelings about the race, BTW. You did awesome out there!" Mike practically waltzed up to him, a manic grin on his face. He was dressed exactly as he'd been when Bain had seen him earlier, though his goggles seemed a little... scorched.

Bain looked at him suspiciously. "Aren't you wanted for something?"

Mike waved one hand around in a dismissive gesture, complaining, "Ah, come on. Disturbing the peace don't mean jack in the Tower. As for the theft, it was only once. That doesn't count either."

Stitches approached him, a faint smile on his face. "Yeah, sorry about this. Normally, when we get a hero sworn in, we get all their friends and family together and surprise them with the ole' fake room trick. Cliche, I know, but dang it if it isn't fun."

Looking around at the three people, one of whom he'd only met that morning, Bain wondered where the terror had gone. It seemed so far away now.

Stitches jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "C'mon, man. I made this cake, and you're gonna eat it if I have to shove it down your throat." Mike nodded rapidly, his messy hair flopping around. "I can vouch for that. You don't wanna tangle with this dude, bro."

Walking up to the cake, George cheering him on loudly, Bain stared at it. No one had ever made a cake for him before. Actually, no one had made anything for him before.

Bain sliced a neat cut into it and shoved a slice into his mouth. Almost instantly, his eyes scrunched together in an obvious wince. Stitches slapped a hand to his forehead. "Bain, you eat rats on a regular basis. My cake can't possibly be that bad."

Forcing himself to swallow, Bain shook his head. "You're right. I prefer the rats."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It hadn't been much of a party with only four people in total, but it'd been the best party Bain had ever had. Yes, the cake was awful and almost killed Stitches again when he tried a bite, but the balloons were fun to pop, and Mike had challenged Stitches to a race, which the zombie denied flatly. George had brought some sort of portable game console, and had thoroughly pummeled everyone present, even when they teamed up against him.

As Bain left the room, listening to Stitches rail against the teen about how villainous cheating was, he shook his head. What in the world had happened? Eighteen years with one person as a friend, and then he made two more in just as many days.

"Hello, Bain."

Startled, he swung around to find a seven-foot-long centipede in front of him. It was sitting very still, its eyes filled with white. Bain chuckled, relaxing. "Don't worry, Nahma. I'll be coming home soon."

The shedding didn't say anything for a long moment, then spoke. "I... don't understand humans. Most days, I don't understand you either. Why you'd want to associate yourself with these walking flesh bags has always been beyond me." Bain frowned, about to reply, but Nahma wasn't done. "I think I understand you now."

The monster paused. "What are you saying?"

Nahma reached a leg up, the base cracking as it extended past its natural limits. The mutated limb scratched irritably at his face, and he continued. "I get it. They're here for you. They're here, encouraging you. And-" He gargled, only a moment from a growl. "I want to support you too. I want - I want to be here for you as well. And I'm going to be better at doing it than that corpse. So-" The shedding practically gagged, forcing the words out. "If you wish... I will become a hero alongside you."

Bain's jaw dropped. He just stood there for a moment, processing, then laughed.

Nahma snarled. "What is it?"

Bain tried to stop laughing, but it still took a few seconds. Finally, he got closer to the shedding and looked it in the eye. "Nahma, you've been there for me my whole life. I don't really understand you most of the time either, but I know you wouldn't have raised me and all my quirks if you didn't care for me. You just proved it again, but wow, Nahma. Please don't become a hero."

The shedding sighed in relief. "Oh, that's good. My carapace would look bad covered in spandex."

The mental image hit Bain's brain and he shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his brain. Leaning forward, he hugged the shedding, and it froze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

Carefully, slowly, cautiously, the shedding patted him on the back. "You're welcome."