I, Panacea (Worm SI Fanfic)

I, Panacea

Part Seven: Questions and Answers


Taylor looked directly at Amy. "Listen ... before we go any farther, can you answer some questions for me?"

Uh ... what do I say?

Say yes. I suspect that these are questions you'd like answered, too.

Amy nodded. "Yes." She paused. "That is, Security will be telling me the answers, and I'll be passing them on to you."

Behind her glasses, Taylor frowned slightly. "Not to say that I don't trust you, but ... "

May I?

Amy sighed internally. Okay. Go ahead.

"But you're wondering if she'll give you the answers I give her, right?"

Taylor blinked slightly. "I'm talking to ... Security, now, right?"

Amy's mouth curled into a slight smile. "That's me. Mike Allen, at your service."

"Right." Taylor took a breath. “How can I know that I can trust what you have to tell me?”

Amy felt herself shrug. “You'll have to make up your own mind on that. But I'll tell you now; I know things about you that you don't think anyone else knows, I know things about you that not even Lisa knows … and I know things about that you don't know. And I'm willing to share.”

“I'm really not sure how to take that,” Taylor responded. “You could be running a huge bluff.”

“Not on Lisa. She'd know if I was lying. Or if Amy was. You noticed she could tell between when I was talking, when Amy was talking, and when Amy was telling her what I was saying?”

Reluctantly, Taylor nodded. “Yeah. So, uh, talking about Lisa, would you be able to tell me … “

Amy felt her eyebrow lift. “Does she know? Yeah. She knows.”

Taylor paled. “Shit.”

Amy's head shook slightly. “Don't worry about it. She knows that you'd decide, eventually, to join them for real. She's not going to out you to them.”

“Oh.” Taylor paused, her gaze becoming introspective.

Is this about her being a hero and infiltrating them?

Yeah. Lisa knew from the start. But she was kind of suicidal, so Lisa took her under her wing anyway.

Oh. Because of her brother?

Basically, yeah.

Amy paused to consider that. Lisa was being nice to Taylor because she wanted to help her …

You realise, this is really screwing with my perception of how villains are supposed to act.

I find it helps if you ignore the descriptor and focus on the actions and the motivations.

Oblivious to the silent conversation, Taylor spoke up again. “Armsmaster told me that there are two murderers in the Undersiders. Who are they? And who kills Alexandria?”

Amy felt her throat being cleared. Oh boy. This is going to be interesting.

Why? What's the matter?

You'll see.

“Before I answer that, Taylor,” Amy's voice replied, “I need you to remember to keep an open mind. All right?”

Taylor grimaced. “Oh shit. Lisa?”

A shake of the head. “Taylor. Open mind. Okay?”

“Okay.” Taylor bit her lip slightly. “So tell me.”

Amy took a deep breath. “Alec is one of them. I mentioned that he's Heartbreaker's son, yeah?”

“Uh, I've heard of Heartbreaker,” Taylor admitted. “But I don't know too much about him.”

“Canadian villain. Emotion controlling powers. He can rewrite your entire mindset regarding himself. Make you love him, utterly loyal, scared to death, whatever. And it doesn't wear off, if he doesn't want it to. He meets celebrities in the street, talks to them for thirty seconds, and they willingly come home with him.” Amy was surprised by the flat, hard tone of her own voice.

Wow, you don't like him very much.

Would you?

She considered for a moment. I don't suppose I would.

“Christ,” muttered Taylor. “Why haven't they - “

“Arrested him?” Amy's shoulders rose and fell in another shrug. “They tried. Everyone who comes near him falls under his spell. Anyone who tries to get close has to get through all the innocents; people who will literally lay down their lives for him. So they leave him be.”

“That's horrible.” Taylor looked sick. “And Alec is one of his kids?”

Amy's head nodded. “He wanted to get away from the old man. But before he managed it, he was ordered by Heartbreaker to kill one of his minions, a man who had let him down. So he did. Forced the man to kill himself.”

“A murderer.” Taylor's voice was hard.

“Under duress by Heartbreaker,” Amy's voice reminded her. “The reason he doesn't seem to be a very nice person? That's years of his father screwing with his head.”

“Oh. Okay.” She paused for a moment. “And the other murderer?”

“Rachel.”

Taylor's eyes opened wider for a moment, then she slowly nodded. For a moment, one hand rested on the other sleeve. “Yeah. I can believe that.”

“Taylor.” Amy's voice was flat. “Listen to me. Rachel has had a really horrible deal. You already know that she spent ten years in the foster system, right?”

Taylor nodded again. “Yeah. Brian told me.” Her tone wasn't as flat, any more.

Amy's voice went on. “Abandoned by her mother when she was four, put into the foster system. Systematically targeted by all the other kids, until she learned to fight back, and hit hard and fast, before they could hit her.”

That shot went home, Amy saw. Taylor was jolted to her heels.

Why did that affect her so much? Then she realised. Oh – you said she was bullied.

Yeah. Up till now she's seen Rachel as a thug. Now, she might see why she's like that.

Taylor looked at Amy. “When did she … “

“Become like she is now? It took ten years. She was seen as a troublemaker, nothing she did was good enough, nothing she owned was sacred. Until she found a stray dog, coaxed it home, kept it in secret, went hungry to feed it her own lunches. But then her foster mother … well, let's just say, the dog was drowning, and Rachel triggered. Her power activated, the dog got big, it had never been trained, and it went after the foster family. People got hurt. Killed.”

“Oh god.” Taylor's hands were clenching tightly. “I've been seeing her all wrong. She … she's like me, in a way.”

Amy felt her head nod, her hand reach out to rest on Taylor's forearm. Taylor glanced up at her, wary.

“Your arm,” Amy's voice observed. “Where her dog bit it. Still sore?”

Taylor blinked. “How did -” She cut herself off. “You said you knew stuff I thought no-one knew.”

“I did,” Amy heard herself confirm. She didn't try to say anything for herself; her head was whirling over what she'd just heard herself say, about two of the villains she had just been talking to.

“Oh, uh, yeah, still a bit sore,” Taylor admitted. “But it's fine.” She took a deep breath. “How about the other bit? Who's due to kill Alexandria?”

Amy took a deep breath. “Okay, first off? Me telling you this makes it a whole lot less likely to happen. Which is probably a good thing. But second? What I said earlier, about an open mind? Goes twice as much for this one.”

“All right,” Taylor agreed, her voice steady. “I can do that. I'm listening. I won't judge.”

Amy nodded, but her passenger did not speak through her. She could feel his mind racing, even though she couldn't see the shape of the thoughts themselves.

Are you trying to figure out how to break it to her? Which of her friends is going to murder Alexandria?

Kind of. This is going to be a real tough one.

If you tell me who, I can maybe offer advice?

A mental shake of the head. Sorry. I'm going to have to … hmm.

“Taylor.” Her voice was quiet, almost contemplative. “Let me ask you a question. Hypothetically.”

Taylor nodded warily. “Okay.”

“Let's say, hypothetically speaking, you're in the place of the person who's going to kill Alexandria.”

Even more warily, Taylor nodded again. “All right.”

“Now, you don't want to do it. Who does? Seriously, Alexandria's a hero. Or at least, you're used to seeing her as a hero. But right now, she's threatening to capture your friends, one by one, unless you surrender to her. She's already grabbed a couple. And the last one she brought in, in a body bag. And you're fairly sure that it's Brian.”

Taylor's face had paled again, and her hands were clenched. “Oh god.”

Amy's head nodded. “Yeah. So, hypothetically speaking, if you wanted to prevent her from killing the rest of your friends, including Lisa, and killing her was the only way to do it, would you?”

Taylor's head was lowered, but her knuckles were white. “God help me.” Her voice was barely audible.

Amy's arm went out, and her hand rested on Taylor's shoulder for a moment. “If you really want to know who kills Alexandria, I can tell you. But you don't have to know, not really. The circumstances, yeah. The culprit, not so much, yeah?”

There was a long, long pause, then Taylor raised her head. “No,” she managed. “No. I don't.”

“And anyway,” Amy heard herself add briskly, “because I've told you this, I doubt very much that it'll ever happen. So cheer up. Bullet dodged.”

Taylor blinked. “ … right.”

So who does kill Alexandria?

Given that it's never likely to happen now, does it matter?

Amy paused; there was a tone in his mental voice … It's Taylor, isn't it?

One more time. Does it really matter?

She looked at Taylor. The girl did not look like a murderer to her. No. I guess not.

Taylor sniffled and pulled out a tissue, to wipe her nose. “So. What else do you have to tell me?”

Amy's head tilted slightly. “Did you have any more questions?”

“You said that you know stuff about me that I don't know about myself. What is it?”

Amy felt herself smile. “Good question. Several things, in fact. One of which is that you're becoming less and less likely to change sides back to being a hero, at this stage. Lisa is a good friend, you're developing feelings for Brian, which he's too focused to return, and Armsmaster is still a dick.”

Startled, Taylor let out a giggle. “Yes, he is, isn't he? But Brian … “ Her expression became lost. “I … he … “

“He's fixated on making a proper home for his little sister,” Amy heard herself explain. “Besides, you're two years younger than him; he's growing to see you more as a sister than as a potential love interest.” A shrug. “Sorry.”

“Okay, fine,” she replied, her voice perhaps harsher than Amy thought she intended it to be. “That'll just make it easier to break free. I know who their boss is now. I can turn them in.”

Amy's head shook. “Probably not a good idea,” her voice cautioned Taylor. “If you try to inform the PRT about Coil, they will stuff it up. Taking him out requires immediate action, and the PRT is a bureaucracy. They never do anything fast. And that's if they take you seriously. Worst case, Lisa is killed or enslaved, and the Undersiders with her.”

Taylor's head hit the backrest with a soft thump. “Fuck.”

“On the other hand, I can offer you something we can act on,” Amy heard herself continue brightly. “Something that will improve your life measurably.”

Taylor glanced at her sharply. “What?”

Amy felt herself smile. “What if I said I could stop the bullying? Flat, dead, over and done?”

Silence fell between them; Taylor's eyes bored into Amy's. She had never been on the receiving end of such an intense stare before.

“You can do that.” It was not a question.

Wait, you can do that?

His tone was amused. We can do that. If you're willing.

“Well,” her voice responded to Taylor, “given that I know who and why, and Panacea is a well-known hero, I'm thinking if I walked into Winslow tomorrow morning, and had a word with Principal Blackwell about Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and … “ A pause, inviting.

“Sophia Hess,” Taylor completed the statement, biting the words off.

Wait, what? Sophia Hess? I know that name. That's …

Oh yeah. That's Shadow Stalker. There was grim satisfaction in his voice.

Wait, Taylor's being bullied by a Ward?

Since before she was a Ward, but yeah. That's the gist.

Oh shit, that's so wrong.

“Exactly and precisely,” Amy heard herself say; she wasn't sure if he was responding to Taylor or herself, or both. “If I told Blackwell that those three were bullying you, and that I wanted something done about it now … “

“But would they do anything?” protested Taylor. “Would they even listen to you?”

“I'll let Amy answer that one.” Amy felt the control over her body relax and withdraw. Over to you.

What? What do I say?

What would you say in a situation like this?

She took a deep breath. “Yeah, they would. Especially if I brought along Glory Girl. You know, my sister?” She grinned at Taylor. “I tell her about this, and I guarantee she will go to town on this Blackwell person. She's got a thing about people hurting those weaker than them. Also, she loves a good media spectacle.”

Taylor grimaced. “But … how are you going to explain why superheroes are getting involved anyway? It's likely to make people look closely at me. I don't want to be outed for this.”

Amy shook her head. “No, you won't. Because there's another cape involved. And this will mean that Blackwell will want to keep it as quiet as possible.”

“What, Blackwell's a cape?” Taylor shook her head violently. “I can't see that.”

Amy chuckled. “No. She's not.” Is she?

Nope. Carry on, you're doing fine.

Thanks. “But if I tell her that one of her students, who she knows is a cape, is bullying someone, she's not going to want that to get out.”

Taylor stared at Amy. “ … what?”

Should I tell her again?

A grin. No. Let her sort it out in her own mind.

Amy felt a sudden doubt. Should we really out Shadow Stalker to her, in this way? Taylor might decide to take drastic action.

She won't.

How do you know?

Because she didn't, the last two times that she did find out.

That's very confusing, when you talk like that, you know.

A grin. I know. The grin faded. And besides, Shadow Stalker needs to be shut down, hard.

Okay, I can get that. Bullying is -

Taylor spoke, interrupting her train of thought. “So what you're saying is, either Emma, Madison or Sophia is a cape.”

Amy nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Are you going to make me guess?”

“No.” Amy took a deep breath. “It's Sophia.”

“Sophia?” repeated Taylor. “Sophia Hess?She's the cape?”

Amy glanced around. No-one was paying attention to them. “Keep it down,” she suggested anyway. “But yes, that's what Security tells me.”

Taylor ran her hands through her hair, disarranging it thoroughly. She didn't seem to notice, or care. “Shit. Shit. Who is she? Which cape?” Without waiting for an answer, she moved on. “Is she a Ward?”

“Uh, yes,” Amy answered.

Taylor's eyes snapped into focus. “Shadow Stalker,” she whispered. “She's Shadow Stalker.”

Amy nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “But you've got to listen.”

The sharp tone in her voice seemed to get Taylor's attention. “What?”

“We don't just go in looking for trouble,” Amy urged her. “You shelve it, for the evening. Tomorrow, we go to the school. I'll back you up. I'll get Vicky to come along too. She'll enjoy the chance to yell at someone. We confront Blackwell.”

Tell her to bring the pages.

Pages?

She'll know what I mean. The ones she's been working on.

Taylor was looking at her; she realised that she had stopped talking. “Uh, he says to bring the pages. The ones you've been working on.”

There was a light in Taylor's eyes now, one that had been absent before. “Oh, you can bet I'll bring the pages.” She paused. “Did you know that she's carrying lethal arrows?”

Amy blinked. “I … no, I didn't know that. Isn't that kind of against the rules?”

“Oh yeah,” Taylor replied. “Totally against her probation.”

Amy held up her hand. “Wait a second.” Probation? We didn't cover this.

Because we didn't get to it. Shadow Stalker used to be a vigilante, right? Joined the Wards?

Uh, yes?

Yeah. What they don't tell you is that she nearly killed someone. Nailed him to a wall. So it was a choice between juvey and the Wards. And guess who took her side in that case.

I have no idea.

Ask Taylor what Emma's dad does for a living.

Taylor grinned as Amy focused on her. “So, he fill you in, did he?”

“Uh, some of it, I guess,” Amy admitted. “He wanted me to ask you what Emma's dad does for a living.”

“Mr Barnes?” Taylor asked. “He's a divorce lawyer. Why?”

“Ah,” Amy replied. “He's the one who represented Sophia in her hearing, to see if she'd go to juvey or not.”

Taylor's jaw dropped open. “Wait, so he knew? He knows?”

“About her being a cape, probably?” hedged Amy. A little help?

Yeah, he knows. About the bullying, probably not. But he's also likely to threaten legal action if you try to nail anything on Emma.

Oh. Oh, I see. Aloud, she continued. “Yeah, he knows about her being a cape, but not about the rest of it. But Security says that he's likely to pull out all the stops to protect his daughter if we make accusations against her.”

“Oh god.” Taylor leaned back against the seat. “Him and Dad have been friends like forever.” She looked hopefully at Amy. “Would that … ?”

Not in this case.

“I just got told, not in this case.” She shrugged. “Well, it probably won't matter anyway. Because you know who my mom is.”

Oh shit. After the scene we had earlier …

So tell Vicky, and she can get your mom in on it.

You're altogether too good at knowing which buttons to press, did you know that?

Sorry, did you want me to be polite and ineffective, or actually get this shit sorted?

Amy sighed internally. Point taken.

Taylor was looking curiously at Amy. “Would your mom get involved?”

“Not sure.” Amy shrugged.

You do know that Emma's dad works at the same firm as Carol does.

Oh wait, does she?

Sure. Alan Barnes.

… yeah, I remember the name now. Huh.

She blinked. “Actually, I've just been reminded of something else. Emma's dad works at the same firm that Carol – Mom – does.”

“Oh, okay,” Taylor replied cautiously. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

Amy grinned. “Well, if I can get Vicky to talk to her, and convince her in the matter, she might just step in and tell him to back off on any legal action.”

Taylor took a deep breath. “That … would be good, I think.” She glanced at Amy. “Do you think you'll be able to talk to your sister about all this, without outing me, that is?”

“Trust me,” Amy told her with a roll of the eyes, “Vicky doesn't see anything that Vicky's not interested in seeing. She's very self-centred that way.”

Taylor nodded. “Huh. Okay, cool. Should I bring Dad to school as well?”

Should she?

Hm. To be honest, I'm not sure. On the one hand, it might do well to turn up in force; on the other, that will slow things down, as they get their parents in as well.

I could ask Carol her legal opinion on it.

Might help. Oh, just one thing. The 'social worker' who's going to be turning up to represent Sophia? That's her PRT handler. Just so you know.

Amy blinked. Wow. Okay. Good to know. Aloud, she went on. “Tell you what; I'll talk to Mom about it. See what she says.”

“Yeah,” agreed Taylor. “Might be a good idea.” She smiled at Amy. “You know, when we first met, I wasn't at all sure that we were going to be getting along.”

Amy snorted. “You put three poisonous spiders on me, and I hit you on the head with a fire extinguisher. The basis of a lifetime friendship.”

“Which reminds me,” Taylor observed. “What did you do to the spiders, anyway?”

“Oh, to screw up your control over them?” Amy shrugged. “I could see the parts of their brains that were sending back feedback, so I turned it from a tight, clean signal to one with as much garbage as possible.”

“Well, it worked,” Taylor admitted ruefully. “I could barely concentrate. You really did a number on me.” She paused. “But what happened to the rest of them? Once I lost fine control, hell, I had no idea where they even were. They could've been biting everyone in the room, and I wouldn't have known.”

Amy grinned. “Oh, uh, I found them on the people, paralysed them and left them sending back the same signal that they'd been sending when I touched them. Then I sent everyone upstairs while I tried to deal with you.”

“Huh.” Taylor blinked. “Wow, that nearly worked, too. It did work, right up until you clocked me with the extinguisher.”

“Yeah, about that,” Amy commented. “How's your head? I hit you pretty hard.”

“Still sore,” Taylor admitted. “How's yours?”

“Probably more sore,” Amy confessed. “But I can do something about yours, if you want.”

“I – uh - “ Taylor hesitated.

Amy sighed. “If you're worrying about the threats I made back in the bank, don't be. I've learned a lot over the last few hours. Security's told me so much … I'm still getting my head around it all.”

Taylor looked at her for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Okay.”

Amy reached out and took her hand; Taylor did not stop her.

Should I heal her?

Up to you. But it's a good thing. You and Taylor could be good friends.

Not -

He chuckled. No, not that kind of 'good friends'. She's straight, and you're … what you are. Just … friends. There's a synergy you two could reach with your powers; she controls bugs, and you can make new bugs.

Amy began the process of fixing the damage. Taylor had sustained a very mild concussion, but nothing that would affect her. The bruising and swelling was also relatively mild, but she brought that down to nothing. She also noted the bite-marks on Taylor's arm, probably from Rachel's dogs. It was the work of a moment to fix that as well.

I'm not sure if I want to enable her as a villain.

With you helping her, she could be a seriously effective hero. And what did I say about paying too much attention to descriptors? She wants to do the right thing. And, you know, save Dinah Alcott.

If I hadn't told her about it … what would have happened?

His voice was serious. She would have found out, eventually. And she would have quit the Undersiders in protest, when they didn't back her up in wanting Dinah freed. Because Coil had too tight a grasp on them, by then. And even Lisa didn't get the full implications.

What happened in the end?

Oh, she rejoined them, and they did end up freeing Dinah, and killing Coil. But that caused a whole other set of problems. Which is why I want to bring him down early.

Oh. Okay.

She let go Taylor's hand. “That should do it.”

Taylor reached up and gingerly felt her head. “Huh. Doesn't hurt any more.” More confidently, she touched her forearm. “And you fixed that too?”

Amy nodded. “One's as easy as the other.”

“Well, thanks.” Taylor smiled. “I appreciate it.” She looked out the window of the bus. “Oh, this is my stop. So, this evening?”

“I'll be ready.” Unbidden, Amy's hand came up, formed a fist.

Taylor blinked at it, then shrugged and bumped it with her own fist. “See you then.”

“See you, Taylor.” She watched Taylor get up and shoulder her bag, then make her way off the bus. As the bus pulled away from the curb again, she could see the tall, lanky figure making her way down the street.

What was that about?

Oh, it's a thing I did with her, last time. Seemed appropriate.

Huh. Okay. So, you're serious about making new types of bugs for her, huh?

Absolutely. It'll make life so much easier for both of you.

Okay, I'll think about it. Got any ideas?

He chuckled. Many.

Okay, let's hear them.

As he began to speak, Amy leaned back to enjoy the bus ride.

Today had been a very interesting day, and it wasn't over yet.


End of Part Seven

 

I, Panacea

Part Eight: Facing the Music


Amy mulled over the descriptions of the types of bugs that Michael had suggested to her.

I could make these?

You could definitely make these. I've seen you do it.

When you say 'me' …

… I mean the previous version of you, yes. But it's still you. Still able to do it.

I … still not sure if I should. After all, she's a villain.

His voice was very dry. In about the same way that Sophia Hess is a hero.

That jolted her. I'll accept it when you say that Shadow Stalker's a bully, sure, but -

She's also repeatedly attempted to murder Grue.

You're joking.

Nope. His powers interfere with hers, so she's decided that he needs to die. She uses lethal arrows at every chance, to try to kill him. Not arrest, not capture. Kill.

Amy took a deep breath. You're actually serious about this. This is so against the unwritten rules.

Silently, he made a rude noise. Like she cares about those. Next time you get a chance, do a body read on him. He has a scar on his stomach from a through-and-through wound. Shadow Stalker shot him there with a lethal arrow, after she joined the Wards.

Fuck. Amy rarely swore; this was an indication of how shaken she was. Has she ever actually killed anyone?

At least one that I know of, but that was basically an accident. Possibly more. There was the guy she nearly killed, the one that got her into the Wards. And then there's the people she's let it happen to, because they were too scared to fight back -

No, no, wait, what? Shadow Stalker?

He sighed. Yeah, see, her personal philosophy is that the strong survive, and the weak don't deserve to. If you're being attacked, mugged, raped, whatever, if you're too scared to fight back, then she doesn't stop them. She just watches, then presumably comes in afterward and kicks their asses. But unless you prove you're willing to fight back, she won't lift a finger to help you while it's happening.

Amy shook her head, just a little, not wanting to get anyone's attention. That's wrong on so many levels.

Well, yeah. His tone was almost matter of fact. She also caused Taylor's trigger event.

Amy had thought she couldn't be shocked any more. Do I want to know?

Probably not. His tone was contemplative. I'll just hit the high points. You know about the bullying.

Yes, I recall. Amy's tone was cautious. She could not imagine any act of bullying so egregious that it would trigger powers in someone.

Okay. January third. Her locker had been 'somehow' filled with the contents of the special bins found in the girls' bathrooms, over the holidays. With me so far?

Unfortunately, she was. Did Sophia do that?

His tone was almost cheerful. Easiest way, isn't it? So, she smells the smell. Opens the locker. Goes to toss her cookies. Sophia grabs her by the hair and shoves her in the locker. Locks her in. Leaves her there. She doesn't get let out until the janitor gets told, after an hour or more.

Amy's eyes went wide, and she put a hand over her own mouth. Oh my fucking God. That's a trigger event, right there.

Sure as hell was. First and second triggers, one after the other.

Oh god. Amy was no expert, but she knew about both types of triggers, and the sort of stimuli needed for each one. And Shadow Stalker did that?

Signs point to 'yes'.

Oh god. Oh my god. And I thought the Wards were so nice.

He sighed again. Most of them are. Kid Win loves being a Tinker, but he doesn't know what his specialty is yet. Clockblocker is a smartarse, but his dad's got leukaemia. He's gonna ask Vicky to ask you about helping him, sometime in late May, after - He cut himself off.

After what?

After something else happens. Right now, not a huge concern. But yeah, Clockblocker. Not a bad kid. Vista, she's good at what she does. More experience than most. Prefers her hero life over civilian life. Her parents are on the outs with each other. Browbeat's a little on the cold side, but that's just the way he is. Aegis and Gallant are good people, too. The only really bad apple in the bunch is Shadow Stalker.

Amy felt relief that her judgement had been not found totally wanting. So she's an isolated case, then?

Not so much,he told her. Taylor went to Armsmaster before the bank robbery. Her intention was always to infiltrate, to be a mole. She asked him to give her an assurance that if it went wrong, if they were captured, she wouldn't go to jail. This is after she let him take credit for Lung.

Amy had a feel for the way this was going. He said no?

Got it in one. Called her a stupid girl. So then she stuck with it, continued to gather information. If things go as they probably will, in a while there'll be more clashes with the PRT and Protectorate, which the Undersiders will win, mostly because Taylor's a friggin' tactical genius when it comes to her bugs.

Oh boy.

So, anyway, during the next Endbringer battle, Armsmaster sets it up so she'll be killed. Only, she isn't. He nearly dies, but she saves his life. And then she takes on Leviathan, hand to hand, more or less.

Holy shit. She takes on fucking Leviathan?

Well, she shoves Armsmaster's halberd up Leviathan's arse, and gets her back broken for her trouble, and she nearly dies, but yeah.

Amy was nearly lost for words. Jesus Christ.

He chuckled. Basically, yeah. That's when she accidentally finds out who Shadow Stalker is. And then, because she refuses to unmask in return, they're all threatening her with the Birdcage. When Lisa more or less blackmails them into pulling their heads in, Armsmaster turns around and outs her to the Undersiders.

Outs her?

Tells them that she only joined in order to betray them.

Oh, that's just … wow. He is a dick.

Yyyup.

When she next spoke, she was more contemplative. I can see why she wouldn't unmask. If Sophia's got it in for her that badly, if she knew who she was under the mask …

Correct. In fact, afterward, Sophia goes hunting Skitter, with the express purpose of killing her. Holds her down and tries to cut her throat.

Tries?

Spider silk is pretty well knife proof, it seems.

Oh. Well. She tried to haul her mind back on track. So, all this has yet to happen?

It might not happen. A lot of it won't now, given that you've reached out to the Undersiders, and that Taylor knows what she knows, and what you and Vicky are going to do tomorrow at Winslow.

Because of you.

Yeah. And hopefully you'll be willing to help me make a lot more changes. Help people out, save the world, that sort of thing.

Amy blinked. I … wow. Save the world?

Not all at once, he assured her. One step at a time. But will you give it a try?

She drew a deep breath. I … guess I can, at that.

He smiled. Excellent. Isn't this your stop?

Oh. Oh, wow, it is too. She scrambled up and out of the seat, and only just made it off the bus before the doors closed.

<>^<>​

The house loomed large before Amy. She took a deep breath before starting up the path to the front door.

I don't suppose you have any advice for getting through the next half hour?

His tone was grimly amused. I did suggest asking for a place to stay, with the Undersiders.

You did. Maybe I should have done that.

Or you could stay with Taylor and her dad. They're good people.

I – what? She was moderately startled. Would that even work?

Did last time. You and Taylor ended up great friends.

I mean, would that even work, this time?

Hm. He thought about it. Maybe we can look into it, tomorrow. But right now, maybe you should open the door. Amusement tinged his voice. Unless you plan on sleeping on the lawn tonight.

She blinked, realising that she was standing on the front step, staring at the door. Fishing out her keys, she unlocked the door, and let herself in.

The first voice she heard was Vicky's. “Amy! You're back!”

This was followed by the appearance of her sister, wearing a robe over pyjamas, as she ambush-hugged Amy, and held her tight. “I've been so worried about you!”

Amy patted Vicky's back; she was going to go for a hug, but her hands instead worked to extricate her from the embrace. “I'm okay, Vicky, really,” she heard her voice say. “Just a bit tired, all right?”

What the hell are you doing? Why can't I hug my sister?

Because she's in her pyjamas, and I'm not hugging a sixteen year old girl in her pyjamas if I can possibly help it. And yes, I saw what you were thinking when you went to hug her. We are not going there.

You said you weren't going to take over my body without my permission. You lied to me!

A sigh of resignation. Yeah, I promised you that, didn't I. She felt control return. Just remember what I said. Bad things happen if you keep going down this path.

Wait, you didn't tell me anything about that!

I didn't? Fuck, I didn't. I'm getting my timelines mixed up. Look, if you keep thinking that you and Vicky have a chance, then bad things happen. She's not interested. Barring pretty extreme circumstances, she never will be interested.

Vicky was eyeing her. “Amy, are you okay? You kind of zoned for a moment there.”

Amy nodded. “Yeah … things have been happening. I've kind of got a lot to think about.” She put her arms around Vicky, and felt her sister returning the hug. But she didn't make it as deep, or as long, as she could have.

I'm going to need more explanation than that. A lot more.

You probably won't thank me for it.

I'll take that chance.

Carol was the next to appear. “Amy, where have you been?” Her voice was sharp and disapproving. “Your father and I need to talk to you.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “You mean, you need to talk at me, and Mark will sit there and nod his head occasionally.”

Vicky stared at her. Carol's jaw dropped. Even Michael seemed to be taken aback. Ouch.

To give her credit, her foster mother recovered quickly. “What's gotten into you? You will not speak to me like that.”

Amy looked her in the eye. “Tell me that's not exactly how it's going to go down.”

“Amy Dallon!” snapped Carol. “You do not get to speak to us like you did earlier, then storm out of the house, and come back with more … more … “

“Backchat?” suggested Amy, feeling as though she was riding the crest of a wave. She knew she was going to crash, and crash hard, really soon, but right now she was flying. “Insolence? Truth?”

“Amy!” protested Vicky. “Don't talk to Mom like that. She's your mother too, you know.”

Amy snorted. “In name only. And my name's not Amy Dallon. It's Amelia Claire Lavere. We may as well use it, from now on. Seeing that I know the truth.”

Carol shook her head. “I always knew this day would come,” she observed, more to herself than to anyone else. “I just didn't think it would come this soon.”

Vicky frowned at her. “What day? And who's Amelia Claire Lavere?”

“I am,” Amy told her. “This may come as a surprise to you, but Tattletale, back in the bank? She was telling the truth. I'm a supervillain's daughter.”

“Yeah, I know,” Vicky replied, surprising her slightly. “Mom told me. Marquis.”

“Wow, fucking thanks, Carol,” Amy responded. “You tell Vicky, but you can't be bothered telling me?”

Carol opened her mouth to reply, but Vicky got there first. “This afternoon,” she added hastily. “She told me this afternoon, after you left.”

Taken aback, Amy blinked. “Oh. Okay then.”

“I only did it so that Victoria would be fully informed once you returned,” Carol informed her tartly. “Though where you got that name from is beyond me. It's only written down in three places that I know of, and you don't have access to any of them.”

Amy let a smile curl her lips. She imagined that it might look a little like Tattletale's know-it-all smile. “Let's just say, I have access to information sources that you don't know about.”

Carol's eyes narrowed. “You've been talking to villains.”

Amy's eyes widened. How the hell does she know about that?

Michael seemed equally surprised. I have no idea.

“Villains?” Amy squeaked, through a suddenly-constricted throat.

“His old allies,” Carol clarified bitterly. “They finally contacted you, didn't they? Looking to see if you'll take up where your father left off?”

There was a long moment as the realisation soaked into Amy's brain. Then she burst out laughing. Looking around, she found a chair and sat down, still chuckling.

“This is no laughing matter,” Carol told her severely. “If Marquis' old organisation -”

Amy shook her head, letting the occasional snicker escape. “No, Carol. I haven't been contacted by any of Marquis' crew. I wouldn't even know who they are. I don't think they even exist any more. Anyway, I'm not about to become a supervillain. That's not in my life plan.”

Unless, you know, you join the Undersiders.

Shut up. That's different, and you know it.

Vicky knelt beside her. “Then what is going on, Amy? Something's different, and you're scaring me.”

Amy took a deep breath. “Can we go into the living room? I think we're all going to need to be sitting down for this.”

<>^<>​

They sat on the two sofas, on either side of the coffee table, facing one another. Carol sat on one sofa, with Mark beside her, with Amy opposite. Vicky went to sit beside her mother, visibly changed her mind, and sat beside Amy, although she maintained a certain distance.

Well, at least it's not three to one. How are you going to play this?

Amy's internal voice was a lot less sure than her outward facade. By ear, I guess. Any help?

When and if I can.

Thanks.

Carol opened the running, her voice harsh. “We're all here. Care to explain your actions?”

Amy was about to answer, when Michael broke in. Make Mark ask the questions.

What?

Tell her you'll only talk to Mark, not her. That brings him into this, and slows her down.

Oh. Yeah. Okay.

Amy took a deep breath. “Carol … you're a lawyer. You've got experience in tearing people apart on the witness stand. I'm not going to answer your questions.” She looked at her foster father. “But I'll answer them from you.”

Mark, who had been staring into the distance, blinked and roused himself. “Hmm, what?”

“Don't be ridiculous!” snapped Carol.

Amy raised an eyebrow. “So Mark doesn't have equal say with you?” It was true; she knew it was true, and so did Carol. But they both also knew that Carol wasn't about to admit it.

Her foster mother growled deep in her throat and turned to Mark. “Very well, dear. Ask her.”

Mark looked mildly at Amy, and thought for a moment. “Sweetie, you were a bit rude to your mother, earlier. Maybe you should apologise to her.”

Amy nodded. “I'm sorry for being rude to you, Carol. I apologise.” Her voice was contrite, but inside, she was grinning broadly. Okay, that's just genius.

Nope, just knowing how to rig the game.

“Not that!” Carol snapped. “Tell her to explain her actions!”

Mark sighed. “Maybe you're being just a little harsh on her?”

Carol shook her head. “Mark, we need to know. So please, ask her.”

Mark turned to look at Amy. “Honey, your mother wants to know why you acted like you did, earlier.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Okay, seeing as you asked so politely.” She looked around at the three of them. “I've discovered some things about myself today. About myself and about some other stuff. My name is Amelia Claire Lavere. I'm the daughter of a superviillain. Marquis, to be exact, but you all knew that.”

She paused; Vicky seemed to be hanging on her every word. Mark was gazing at her benignly. Only Carol made an impatient gesture. “Get on with it,” she muttered.

“You named me Amy Dallon,” Amy went on, locking eyes with Carol. “But that's not how you treated me. You didn't treat me like your daughter. You treated me like Marquis' daughter. Like a supervillain, ready to slap me down at the first sign of danger, of walking down the wrong path. Didn't you?”

“Well, it's true,” Carol snapped back. “You are Marquis' daughter, and from all indications, his blood is coming out in you, just as I suspected it would.”

Amy ignored her words and glanced significantly at Mark. He got the hint, and looked at his wife. “What do you want me to say, Carol?” he asked plaintively.

“Ask her where she found all this out,” Carol replied, her eyes never leaving Amy. “Ask her who contacted her.”

There was a long pause as Mark looked expectantly at Amy, and Amy returned the look. After a few moments, he seemed to realise that there was more expected of him. Not a good day to skip your meds, huh, Dad?

“Amy, your mother wants to know -”

She held up a finger. “Sorry, Mark, but I'm going to have to stop you right there. That's not true, and you know it. Carol isn't my mother, and you're not my father. I'm sorry to say it, but Carol's never acted like my mother, and you've only been a father on occasion.”

He paused, then nodded. “I suppose that's fair,” he agreed.

Carol stared at him. “Mark!” she exclaimed.

He looked at her and shrugged. “What am I supposed to say, Carol? I might be depressed, but I'm not stupid. You've never treated her the same as you've treated Vicky.”

“And what if I haven't?” she demanded. “Look at her, the way she's acting. After all we've done for her -” They devolved into a low-voiced argument.

Amy became aware of Vicky's gaze. “Amy, I've been an all right sister, haven't I?” she asked quietly.

Amy nodded. “Yes, Vicky. You have.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “But -”

“But what?”

“I'll, uh, tell you later.” She looked back at Carol and Mark.

Her foster father cleared his throat. “Uh, Carol wants to know who told you this information. Where you found it out.”

She looked him in the eye. “I'm sorry, but I can not and will not give you that information.”

Mark grimaced. “She really wants to know.” From the thunderous look on Carol's face, that was the understatement of the year.

Amy heard her blood roaring in her ears. She had never, not ever, defied Carol and Mark like this before. It was liberating. It was terrifying.

Are you doing this?

Nope. It's all you.

I think I'm going to throw up.

If you do, aim at Carol.

She only just managed to stifle a wholly inappropriate giggle, and took a deep breath to settle herself. “And I really don't want to tell you. It wouldn't help the situation. In fact, telling you would only make it worse. Sorry.”

Carol's eyes narrowed. “I'm going to have to insist.”

“Uh, Amy,” Mark responded. “She says -”

“I heard her,” Amy replied. “But my name is Amelia Claire Lavere, and I'd really prefer you used it. And I don't care how much she insists, I'm not going to tell either of you where I learned my information. Because, in legal terms, that information is not germane to this case. Now, do you have any other questions you want to ask me?”

Carol's expression became more forbidding. “If you're not more forthcoming, young lady, penalties will be in order. Grounding, for a start.”

Amy didn't reply; she just looked at Mark.

“Oh, uh,” he began. “If you don't tell us where you got this information, you'll be grounded.” He leaned forward, his expression pleading. “Don't make this hard on yourself, sweetie. We only want the best for you. Whoever told you this stuff might not have your best interests at heart.”

Wow, good cop, bad cop. Took them long enough.

Yeah, with Carol, it's usually bad cop, bad cop.

“Well, whoever it was told me stuff that I'm better off for knowing,” Amy told Mark steadily. “And which you guys were keeping from me. So who's got my best interests at heart, again?”

Silence, while Carol regrouped. Amy could see her expression changing second by second as she thought furiously.

“Fine,” she gritted at last. “What did this person tell you, exactly? He or she might have given you false information. We might need to clear that up. Any misconceptions.”

Mark took up his cue. “Sweetie – Amelia,” he corrected himself. He ignored the sharp glance that Carol shot him, and went on. “Did this person tell you anything else that's important? We might need to know.”

She nodded to acknowledge his use of her name, then considered her reply. “I was told some other stuff, yes,” she agreed cautiously. “But I believe it all to be true. And if you decide that it's false, and you act on it, you could cause problems.”

“If you tell us, and it's important enough, we could help you with whatever it is,” Mark urged.

She looked him in the eye. “And can you guarantee that Carol will accept whatever I say without question? Because some of it's some pretty way-out stuff.”

“My job is to question,” gritted Carol.

“Which is a no,” Amy confirmed. “Which means that I can't tell you a lot of the stuff that I learned.”

Mark frowned. “Sweetie – what stuff? How did you learn it?”

Amy shook her head. “I can't tell you that. But I got it all from the same place that I got my name and who my father really is. And I believe, totally, in its accuracy.”

Wow, thanks. I'm touched.

A fleeting smile. You've been a lot more up front with me than they have. And you kept your promise, and gave me control back.

Carol compressed her lips. “I'm beginning to think that there's something more at play, here. Ever since you hit your head -”

Amy rolled her eyes. “You're acting like I was just clumsy or something. I was hit on the head by a supervillain and knocked out. After she held a knife to my throat.”

Mark frowned. “Why didn't you use your powers?”

“Full body costume, Dad,” Vicky put in. “Armoured too, by the looks of it.”

“Huh, wow,” he replied. “That's the bug controller?”

Amy nodded. “They're calling her Skitter.”

“Sounds creepy,” he observed.

Vicky shook her head. “Oh, trust me. You have no idea.”

Amy snorted. “You think you had it bad? Clockblocker had bugs crawl in under his eyelids.”

“Clockblocker?” asked Vicky, her brow wrinkling. “But he wears a full-face helmet -”

“Swapped with Aegis, to put them off guard,” Amy informed her. “But I'm guessing someone figured it out.”

“We're getting off track here,” snapped Carol. “Amy, you've been acting strangely since this Skitter hit you and knocked you out. I suspect some sort of outside influence.”

Vicky looked startled. “What, like a Master?”

“Seriously?” Amy snapped. “I get hit on the head, I learn some stuff, I act a bit differently because of what I learn, and all of a sudden it's Master/Stranger protocols? What are you gonna do? Lock me in my room until you find out what's going on? Because honestly, that shit isn't going to fly.”

Well, to be honest, you were under a sort of Master influence for a bit there.

It wasn't a Master, it was you. Which makes it an inside influence, not an outside one.

Wow, semantics even. I love it.

Oh, shush, you.

“Maybe the hit on the head jarred some memories loose,” Mark theorised. “And you remembered things that you'd forgotten. Add some concussion in there, and bingo.”

Should we pop that balloon, or let them think that's that for a while?

I guess? I don't know.

“A concussion that causes delusions? We're going to need you to be checked out, in that case,” decided Carol briskly. Her glance spoke volumes.

To make sure you don't become dangerous, right.

Wow, you really know how to read Mom.

A grin. I've got thirty years on you in that regard.

What's your mom like?

She's nice. You'd like her.

She became aware that Carol and Mark were watching her expectantly. “What?”

“Uh, Carol has suggested that you get your head checked out, to see if the damage is more problematic than we first thought,” Mark explained. “Are you all right with this?”

“And if I'm not,” Amy noted, “you're likely to think that something more sinister is going on with me, right?” Her eyes cut sideways to Carol. “Whereas mom of the year, over there, starts with that basic assumption.”

Wow, ouch. Did you mean to actually say that out loud?

Um, no, not really?

Mark's tone hardened. “Amelia, please don't be impolite to your mo – to Carol. I'm doing my best to be fair, here. Could you please answer the question?”

You know, he really is.

Okay, yeah, true. A lot more fair than she is.

Amy nodded, conceding the point. “Okay, sure. I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea to make sure I'm not bleeding into my brain or something.” She took a breath. “And sorry, Carol. I didn't mean to be rude.”

He smiled. “Good.” A sideways glance at Carol. “Is that good enough for you, honey?”

The look on Carol's face stated that it really wasn't, but she nodded reluctantly. “Good enough for the time being,” she conceded.

“I'll phone the doctor, to make an appointment for tomorrow after school,” Mark decided, getting up. Carol got up also, muttering something about cooking dinner. They both exited the living room, leaving Amy and Vicky alone.

Vicky eyed her closely. “Are you really all right?” she asked solicitously.

Amy nodded. “Better than I have been for a while, actually,” she assured her sister. “Oh, I'll go along and let the doctor look at me. But that's not what's causing this.”

“Then what is?” asked Vicky, her expression curious.

For a moment, Amy considered telling her, then shook her head. “Sorry. You probably wouldn't believe me. Maybe later, when things are different.”

“Man,” Vicky observed, looking her up and down. “Mom wasn't wrong. You've changed. More self-confident. I think I like it.”

Amy smiled. “Thanks. I think I like it, too.”

Now to go off and hide in a corner until I stop shaking.

Yeah. I know how that goes.

Spontaneously, Amy hugged Vicky. “Thanks,” she murmured.

Vicky was surprised, but she hugged Amy back anyway. “Wow, okay. What for?”

“For supporting me,” Amy told her. “For taking my side. For being my sister.”

Vicky cheerfully tousled Amy's hair before letting her go. “Hey, what are sisters for?”

Amy smiled, but she was already thinking of what was going to happen later that night.


End of Part Eight

Part Nine

 

I, Panacea

Part Nine: Discoveries and Revelations


Dinner had been an awkward affair; Vicky had done her best to keep the conversation going, but between Mark's vagueness and Carol's less-than-thrilled demeanour, it had been hard going. Michael had stayed in the background, doing his best not to distract her. Amy appreciated it; she didn't need Carol and Mark having any more doubts about her mental capacity.

And now, after all of it, Amy lay awake in the darkness. Waiting for everyone to go to bed, go to sleep, so that she could sneak out and meet the Undersiders.

She stirred, rolled over to check the bedside clock. It was after ten. So how much longer?

Not sure. Taylor's probably waiting till your parents go to sleep.

Oh, right.

There was a tap on her bedroom door. “Ames? You awake?”

Shit. Pretend to be asleep.

I can't. Vicky's my sister. Aloud, she called out, “What's up, Vicky?”

Yeah, but you're lying on top of the covers, fully dressed. She's gonna know something's up.

Oh. Shit. Right.

“I can't sleep. Can I come in, talk awhile?”

Tell her no.

And then she'll really think there's something up. Amy scrambled to pull the sheets over herself. “Sure, okay. Come on in.”

The door opened, letting in soft light from the hallway; Vicky was silhouetted against it, wearing her robe over her pyjamas. Her brushed blonde hair made a gentle halo around her head.

For a mercy, she left the light off; she was of course familiar with Amy's bedroom, so she made her way straight to the side of the bed and sat down on it. Amy felt the mattress sag with her weight.

Momentarily, she wondered if Vicky's fearlessness at walking around in the dark stemmed from her immunity to stubbed toes and barked shins.

Heh. Probably.

Shush. “What's the matter?”

Vicky sat with one leg up on the bed; she reached forward, patting with one hand.

What's she after?

Oh. My hand. She holds my hand when we talk like this.

Oh god. Okay. Just push your sleeve up a bit, okay? So she doesn't realise.

Following Michael's advice, Amy was wearing a dark long-sleeved pullover. She slid the sleeve up toward her elbow, then reached out from under the covers to grasp Vicky's hand; their fingers interlocked in the familiar pattern. With the skin contact came Vicky's body rhythms; her heart rate, her brainwaves, everything working in the interlocking pattern that people called 'life'.

“I haven't been hurt like that since I got my powers,” Vicky began, as if continuing a conversation. “And I haven't seen you hurt like that in a while, too.”

Amy felt her own heart rate pick up a notch, at the skin contact.

Ahem.

I can't help it, okay? Now shush.

“We just got unlucky,” Amy told her. “It happens. Tattletale figured out your weakness. She's good at figuring stuff out. But she didn't want to hurt you badly, or kill you.”

“Seriously?” Vicky asked her. “Could've fooled me.” Amy couldn't see her grimace – all she could see was a vague shape in the dimness – but she knew which muscles were tensing and which were relaxing, and she picked up the changes of brain chemistry which spelled out 'disgust'. “Those bugs were … well, 'creepy' was the nicest thing I could say about them. And what if I'd been allergic?”

“Well, you had me there,” Amy replied reasonably. “If you were in distress, I would've healed you anyway, headache or no headache.”

Would you really have? Even with me in the driver's seat?

Of course. This is Vicky. If it came down to saving her life, yeah, I would've chanced it.

“Still, it was a pretty dick move,” Vicky stated.

“She could have just shot you twice,” Amy pointed out. “Or three or four times. I would've definitely have had to heal you on the spot then. If she didn't shoot to kill, that is.”

"I guess," mumbled Glory Girl. "I just don't like feeling that vulnerable."

Welcome to the rest of the human race, kid.

That's a little bit mean, isn't it?

Hey, she might just learn to be a better hero from this. See what it's like for the poor bastards who can't bounce bullets.

Amy squeezed her sister's hand. "You know, some of us feel like that all the time."

Vicky's brain chemistry shifted; Amy automatically read the change as 'contrition'. "Oh shit. I didn't mean it like that."

"That's okay, sis," Amy assured her. "I'm used to being the squishy one here." Her tone became contemplative. "I guess I really shouldn't have tried to play the hero."

"Well, duh," agreed Vicky, her demeanour becoming more cheerful. "Any course of action that ends you up with a knife at your throat is generally a bad course of action."

"I don't think she really meant to hurt me," Amy pointed out before Michael could remind her.

"Ames, she had a knife at your throat," Vicky reminded her, in slow and patient tones. "I really think she did."

"No, but I pulled away from her," Amy pointed out. "She had to let me go, or she really would have cut my throat. And she could've, really easily. But she didn't."

"It was still a huge fucking risk," Vicky told her. "Why did you do it?"

"That Tattletale girl," Amy told her. "She was talking about my dad, remember? Either you locked yourself in the vault or she told me something worse than even that."

"And you were willing to risk a cut throat for that?" asked Vicky. "What the hell's worse than finding out that your dad's Marquis?"

Amy froze. What do I say to that?

Fuck. I have no idea. It never came up like this before.

Well, how did it come up?

Once, really badly. And once, after you'd been doing therapy for a while. That time came out a bit better.

“Ames? What's up?”

Therapy? Why was I taking therapy?

Because I told you to.

And did it help?

You were smiling a lot more, so I guess so.

“I, uh, can we talk about this another time?” Amy asked, feeling trapped.

“When?” asked Vicky. “It's obviously a private thing, and I can't see you wanting to talk about it in front of Mom and Dad. You didn't talk to them about it, so it's not something they know. And any other time we're out and about together. When's a better time than right now?”

Shit.

No kidding. She's smarter than people think.

What am I gonna do?

Well, outside of using your powers on your sister, which might be a little extreme -

Amy was shocked at the very idea. Well, no shit! I'd never do something like that to Vicky!

- your three options are to lie your head off, say nothing … or tell the truth. But if you take the last one, for fuck's sake, leave the aura out of it.

Why?

No time to explain. Just trust me on this one.

Okay, fine. She took a deep breath. I hate lying to her, and she's not gonna leave this alone.

Oh god. Good luck. Please don't fuck this up.

Thanks, I think.

“Ames?” asked Vicky. “Talk to me, please.”

“Okay,” Amy replied. “I'll tell you what's going on. But I don't think you're going to like it a whole lot.”

Vicky shook her head; in the darkness, Amy could hear her hair swishing back and forth. There was a fond smile in her voice – and on her face – when she replied. “Seriously, Amy, the last time I was actually angry with you was when you messed up my fifth grade class presentation.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I said I was sorry. I was trying to help.”

Vicky chuckled. “I know. Which is why I forgave you about an hour later.” Her free hand came out, smoothed Amy's hair back from her face. “So give. Whatever it is, we can deal.”

Amy took another deep breath; the lingering feeling of Vicky's fingertips on her cheek was not helping her composure any. A mental image came to her; an older man, dressed in some sort of uniform, heavy set, bearded, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. She almost giggled, but calmed herself instead.

“Vicky … you know how you keep setting me up with boys, but I don't like any of them?”

Muscular contraction and relaxation told Amy that Vicky was rolling her eyes. “Yeah, picky much? We've still got that double date with -”

Amy shook her head, then recalled that Vicky couldn't see her. “No. I'm not going. Vicky, I don't like those boys. Any of them.”

“But you haven't met this one -”

“Vicky.” Amy tried again. “I don't like boys. I'm not interested in them.”

“Oh?” Vicky seemed vaguely puzzled. “Oh.” That was a sound of realisation. “Oh.” And finally, the penny dropped. “Oh, you're gay. Why didn't you tell me? We could have sorted something out. I know a guy, his sister's your age, she's kind of interested in girls too -”

Okay, that's a start. Michael's voice was tense. Can we leave it there?

I'd love to, but Vicky'll see through that bit. She'll want to know why it's such a huge secret. Wow, Panacea's gay. Big deal. It 's not like people care any more.

“No, Vicky,” she pressed on. “I'm not interested in 'girls' either.”

Puzzlement entered Vicky's voice. “But if you're not interested in boys, and you're not interested in girls, then what … ?”

There was a snort of amusement within her mind. Many options. Most of them illegal.

Shush. Aloud, she went on, before her nerve could fail. “You.”

There was a long, long silence. Amy could hear the chirping of night insects outside her window; there didn't seem to be any great concentration of them -

- but Taylor could tell them not to chirp if she didn't want them to.

Michael, what if she hates me now? She hasn't said anything.

What do your powers say?

Amy was shocked; she had been so wrought up that she had totally tuned out what her powers were reporting via Vicky's body. This was the first time that had happened in … forever. She looked for anger, disgust, repulsion … and didn't find it.

“Ames.” Vicky's brain showed a trace of confusion, then embarrassment, blending into understanding and then compassion. “How long … ?”

Amy sighed. “Ever since … “ Time to shade the truth just a little. “ … ever since I started developing, I guess. Started being able to feel that way. I mean, you're my best friend, I've always loved you, it's just that now I love you a little more … “

“Amy.” Vicky was shaking her head again. “We can't do this. We can never do this. I'm straight. And you're my sister.” Through the link, there was sorrow and regret.

“Adopted.” Amy didn't even really mean to say the word out loud. “But yeah, I know. You're straight. It's not going to happen.” She tried to keep the pain out of her voice, and did not totally succeed.

“Shit.” Vicky's voice was filled with emotion; Amy felt, for the first time, loathing in her brain chemistry. Oh god, I've made her hate me.

No.Michael's voice calmed her. It's not you. It's herself. She's upset with herself.

How do you know that?

An impression of a grin. Life experience, kiddo. Talk to her.

“Vicky … ?”

Her sister was crying silently; Amy could feel her tear ducts working. “So sorry, Amy. I am so goddamn sorry. Every time I undressed in front of you, or hugged you or kissed you, I was sending you mixed messages. All this time, you must have thought I was the most godawful tease.”

Amy had to chuckle. “You are the most godawful tease. Wearing a short skirt, with pants underneath? As a flier?”

Vicky sniffled, but stopped crying. “You're making fun of me.”

“No.” Amy reconsidered. “Well, maybe just a little. But it's all right.” She squeezed Vicky's hand. “I've been carrying this load around for way too long. It's a relief to be able to share it, just a little bit.”

“But you're still … attracted to me. In love with me, whatever.”

Amy sighed. “Yeah. Still am.”

“And every time I showed off my new underwear, or got changed in front of you, or we swapped out in the shower, you were checking me out, weren't you?”

A blush started creeping over Amy's cheeks. She was tempted to lie, but Michael's silent presence urged honesty. “I … yeah, I guess so.”

Another eye-roll. “Figures.” A pause. “Hey!”

Amy was a little startled. “Hey, what?”

“If you're holding my hand like this, you can read my whole body, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” Amy frowned. “What are you getting at?”

“So you can see the shape of my body with your power. So you're kinda checking me out right now.”

Amy had to chuckle. “Heh, no. My power doesn't give me a three-dimensional image of your body. It just tells me how it's working, down to the most minor detail. I'd need a whole new set of kinks to find that sexy.”

“Or you could be just, you know, lying. So I would keep holding your hand while you got a load of my bod.” Vicky's tone was light, bantering.

Amy shook her head in the darkness. “Not lying. You deserve the truth about this.”

“So you're not going to lie about this at all?” Amy detected mischief in her sister's brain, as well as her voice.

Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?

Not entirely sure. I'm just hoping she doesn't ask what I think she's going to ask.

What's that?

Better you don't know. She's waiting for an answer.

“I, uh, yeah. Total honesty, all the way.” Amy waited for Vicky's reply.

It wasn't long in coming. “So,” her sister murmured, “have you ever had, uh, fantasies … ?” As far as Amy could tell, she was asking the question from morbid curiosity, as opposed to actually reciprocating Amy's feelings.

Oh god, she asked it.

Fuck. I said I'd be honest.

I'm presuming you have.

Well, in my place, wouldn't you?

I reserve the right to not self-incriminate.

Hah. And thank you for showing me how to answer. She took a deep breath. “Vicky, if I answer one way, I'm going to be horribly embarrassed. If I answer the other way, you'll know I'm lying my ass off. So can we just accept that we both know what the answer is, and drop this subject? For all time?”

“Hm.” Vicky seemed to be thinking this over. “Can I tease you again later?”

“Only if you catch me checking you out later.”

A shrug that made the bed shake slightly. “Okay, deal. And I'll stop giving you mixed messages. Okay?”

“I … yeah, okay. I appreciate it.” She paused. “You know, like sneaking into my room late at night and climbing into bed with me.”

“I haven't done that for at least -”

“- two years, four months, one week and three days,” Amy recited promptly. “After you got your costume and went out for the first time. You were so excited that you couldn't sleep, and you actually wore your costume to bed. My bed, as it turned out.”

“Wow.” Amy could feel Vicky trying to look at her in the darkness, her eyes searching. “You remember that, then.”

Amy felt herself blushing. “Vividly.”

“Oh.” Vicky seemed to be lost for words. “Well. I … uh, kinda forgot why I even came in here.”

Shit, I have too.

Talking about the bank robbery.

Oh, thanks. “We were talking about the bank robbery.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Okay, I guess you're right. It wasn't as bad as it could've been. They could have hurt us a lot worse than they did. Though hitting you on the head was a bit risky. That could have killed you.”

“Don't remind me,” Amy retorted. “My head still hurts. Not badly,” she added hastily. “Just, you know, bump-on-the-head hurt. You know what that's like. You got a few bumps playing basketball.”

“Nothing that knocked me out,” Vicky pointed out.

Amy conceded the point. “But I'm not nauseous, I don't have double vision, none of the signs of concussion.”

How about hearing voices in your head?

Oh, shut up.

“Yeah, but I still worry about you, Ames. You know that.”

"And I love you for it."

Amy didn't realise what she'd said for a moment, until Michael did a very realistic throat-clearing noise inside her mind. "Oh, uh, you know, appreciate," she added hastily. "The other kind of love." She felt herself starting to blush, all over again.

"You know," Vicky observed, "I was looking forward to teasing you about this. But you're doing a better job than I ever could." She was amused, Amy could tell.

She's right. You are.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered. And that goes for you too.

Look on the bright side. She's not mad at you.

"Okay, fine," Vicky replied, still sounding amused. "You've given me a lot to think about, so I'll be going to bed." She paused for a beat. "My own bed, just so there's no misunderstanding."

"Night, Vicky." Amy let her sister's fingers go, and the awareness of Vicky's body vanished from her powers.

Vick got up and moved to the door, then paused. "So am I still flying you in to school in the morning, Ames?"

"Oh, uh, if you're fine with it?" returned Amy. "Knowing I've got feelings for you and all?” She cleared her throat. “How come you're so cool with this, anyway? I would've thought you'd be more upset about it.”

Vicky snorted. "I'm kind of used to it. About ninety percent of the boys in Arcadia have 'feelings' for me, and more than a few of the girls. If that sort of thing squicked me out, I'd never leave my room. I mean, yeah, it's a bit of a surprise, finding out that you've got the hots for me too, but it's not something I haven't had to deal with before. Just so long as you don't try to break up me and Dean – oh god.” She paused. “So that's what that was all about.”

“What was?” Amy thought she knew, but asked anyway.

"We were talking about you awhile ago, and he got kind of evasive."

“Yeah,” sighed Amy. “I ... I don't like him. The fact that he's with you. He more or less let me know that he knows about that, today.”

“Shit. And you see us together all the time.” Vicky's voice was that of someone undergoing a revelation, or seeing something in a new light.

“Yeah,” Amy replied again. “Please don't tell him that you know? I don't want things to be even more awkward between us than they already are.”

Vicky paused for a moment. "Okay, Ames. If that's what you want.” She went to open the door.

Amy got up on one elbow, and spoke before she could think too hard about it. “Vicky? I'm sorry. To put this on you.”

“Hey.” Vicky's voice was warm and understanding. “This shit happens, okay? You can't control who your body thinks it likes. We can work through this, now that we both know about it. You okay with that?”

Amy sighed. “Yeah, I'm good with it.”

"Good," Vicky told her. "See you in the morning. Good talk, Ames." She opened the door, allowing the dim hall lighting to spill into the room momentarily, and slipped out. The door clicked shut behind her.

Amy lay back, letting out a long sigh. Well, now I'm exhausted.

Michael echoed her sigh, silently. Yeah. That went off a hell of a lot better than it had any right to.

Okay, tell me.

Tell you what?

About the time it went badly.

There was a pause. Do you really want to know? Because I'm not kidding when I say 'badly'.

Amy swallowed, and steeled herself. Yeah, I want to know. So I know what to avoid.

Okay, for a bit of context; New Wave had attended an Endbringer battle. Mark had brain damage. You hadn't fixed it, because you don't want people knowing you can do brains.

Oh god.

Carol was at you to try anyway; Vicky was upset with you because she knows you can do brains, but choose not to. But you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Way too much stress on you.

If I fixed him, everyone would know. If I didn't … oh god.

Yeah. Then the Nine came to town. Bonesaw had a robo-spider inject acid into his brain. You had to fix him – right then, right there – or watch him die horribly.

Amy was shocked. But why?

Because she wanted you to use your full potential. And join the Nine. To be her big sister.

Her eyes wide, Amy started at the darkness. Oh god. And she thought I was Nine material.

Well, she was wrong. But. You fixed Mark, and he drove her off.

I didn't really have a choice, did I?

Not really, no. Not and stay sane. Bonesaw had you in a no-win situation.

So what happened then?

Well, you'd just learned a little while previously that your dad was Marquis. There was a letter from him to Carol that you found. So that was on your mind too. You basically decided that you'd betrayed everyone by refusing to fix Mark earlier, so you grabbed some stuff and bolted.

But that's not the end of it, is it?

No. Vicky found you.

What did I do?

Okay, understand that you were at the end of your rope. Other bad stuff had happened. Gallant had died fighting Leviathan. You'd been just a little bit secretly glad, because that let you get closer to Vicky. You had the Mark thing, and the Marquis thing, and Carol wasn't letting up on you. When Vicky came to you, she asked you to go home.

And I refused.

Yeah. She wanted to hug you, and you told her to not touch you. Because you'd just broken your own rules, and it had been so easy.

Amy could see where this was going. And she did it anyway. Because Vicky. Because she trusts me not to use my powers on her.

Yeah. So you broke, right then. Because you wanted so much for her to be with you. And you changed her brain, just a little. So she'd feel the same way about you as you do about her.

Fuck.

He didn't answer. She didn't wait for one.

Fuck. No. No, I would not do that shit to Vicky.

Amy -

No. No, fuck you. I would not do that fucking shit to my own fucking sister. I. Would. Not.

Amy -

No, that's it. I'm done. I don't believe it. I wouldn't do it. No fucking way.

I believe you.

… what.

I believe you. You wouldn't do it.

But you just said -

The Amy who did that is not the Amy that you are now. You're in a much better place. You've faced some of your issues, and you don't have the pressures on you that the other you did, in the other place and time. You, here and now, would not do it.

His words, measured and reassuring, cut through her anger.

So you're not telling me that I'm going to do it?

Nope. In fact, all this stuff I'm telling you? It's so you don't do it.

… oh. Uh, sorry.

For what?

Yelling at you.

A snort of amusement. Heh. No worries. You want to hear how it ends, or will you take my word that it gets worse?

I … I want to know, but not right now, okay? Maybe later?

There was the suggestion of a hug. Sure. Any time.

Thanks.

For what?

Walking me through this. Being there. Helping me.

It's what I'm here for, near as I can tell.

Huh?

Helping you, and a lot of others, to avoid the shit that's coming down the line.

That sounds ominous.

Oh, trust me, ominous is only the start.

But you can help us through it?

I can only try. And I will try. Every step of the way, I'll be with you.

Amy didn't answer; she smiled, knowing that he felt it, and rolled over in bed.

<><>​

Amy! AMY!

Huh? What? Amy blinked her way awake. She was already standing up, with her shoes on. Half a dozen fireflies were orbiting her head.

Taylor's outside, with the others. Time to go.

Wow, was I asleep?

Just a little bit. There was amusement in his voice.

Were you sleepwalking me? Realisation shocked her fully awake. Wait, you can control my body while I'm asleep?

He sounded almost apologetic. It's more like, you sleep and I don't. I can already control your body while you're awake; I just don't lose that control when you go to sleep.

She tried to control her reaction to that revelation. That's got the potential for all sorts of creepiness.

I thought you'd already figured that out, when Regent tried to control your body.

I ... I guess. But I didn't think it applied when I was actually asleep. She paused. Wait, you don't sleep?

Not as such, apparently. I sat you up first, to see if that would wake you, but it didn't. I could have slapped you awake, but I didn't think you would appreciate that.

No. I would not. Thanks, I guess. She glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty, wow.

Yeah, I thought they'd come earlier. Maybe your parents stayed awake later than normal.

Talking about me, probably.

Do you blame them? You put the cat among the pigeons, earlier. And really, I think it's a good thing.

Softly treading over to the door, Amy turned the handle gently. As with the other times she had sneaked out to go to the hospital, it opened with barely a creak, barely a click. The fireflies had quit their circling, and had flown out the window.

A good thing? How so?

Well, for one thing, they'll stop taking you for granted. Stop looking at you in the same way.

Not sure if that's a good thing.

And what you had before was so great?

… okay, you have a point.

So engrossed was she with the internal conversation that she didn't notice the door opening behind her. Not until, that is, Vicky spoke.

“Amy!” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

Amy glanced back at her guiltily. “I … I'm going down for a cup of water,” she temporised. “Go back to bed.”

Instead, Vicky left her room and followed Amy down the passageway. “That isn't your pyjamas,” she murmured. “You're wearing shoes. Are you going to the hospital?”

Oh. shit.

Crap on a stick.

“Oh, uh -”

Vicky shook her head. “You're not going to the hospital. You'd be wearing your costume if you were.” She leaned closer to Amy. “Where are you going?”

What do I tell her?

Don't look at me. She's your sister. Way I see it, you've got three choices. Go back to bed, lie, or tell her the truth.

Fuck.

And do it now, before she wakes up your parents.

Amy made her decision, and drew a deep breath. “Okay … “


End of Part Nine



Part Ten