I, Panacea (Worm SI Fanfic)

[Asheram]

Blackwell hasn't cared about lying so far. She was FAR past willful ignorance even in canon.

Click to shrink...

Lying on what might be a recording with one of the most famous lawyers in town.
It's one thing to lie to another persons face, it's another to get caught on tape.

 

[Ack]

Lying on what might be a recording with one of the most famour lawyers in town.
It's one thing to lie to another persons face, it's another to get caught on tape.

Click to shrink...

Yeah. That way lies a personal lawsuit, rather than one against the school.

 

[Ack]

I, Panacea

Part Sixteen: Panacea at Winslow, Part the First


"I'm Glory Girl, and I'm here to shut you down."

Wow, Michael commented in Amy's head. Does she practise lines like that?

Probably. She shared in his amusement. She does like her dramatics.

That's like saying the ocean's a little bit wet. Did you know she practised her landing till she got it just right? You know the one, where she lands on one knee and one fist, with an arm out behind?

I … no, but it doesn't surprise me. How did you know that? Oh, wait.

Yup. Now, if only I could get popcorn in here.

"I'm sorry?" Emma stared at Vicky. She had been taken aback for a moment, but now she was recovering quickly. "Are you here as a superhero or a student?"

"Well, I don't attend Winslow," Vicky retorted. The words thank God hung in the air unsaid. "But when I heard about a case of bullying here, I decided to come and deal with it." She took a step forward. "Because this sort of thing doesn't fly. Not on my watch."

"Bullying?" Emma raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Isn't that a little bit … well, pedestrian for you? I mean, there's robberies and muggings going on all the time in Brockton Bay, and you come here, to Winslow, to pick out one particular case of alleged bullying? What's really going on here?"

Silently, Michael cleared his non-existent throat. I think that's your cue.

Oh. Right. Amy stepped forward. "What's going on here is that no crime is too small to be dealt with … "

Before she could say more, Emma interrupted. "A crime? Really? Hazing between students isn't really a crime is it, Principal Blackwell?"

Ooh, she's good.

She's definitely got a career in law ahead of her, Amy agreed silently as she forged on. "It depends on what the hazing consists of. Like consistent theft of the student's belongings. Deprivation of liberty. Assault and battery. They sound like crimes to me. How about you, Vicky?"

Emma smiled tightly. "Well, to start with, I'd want to see what proof you have that any of these so-called crimes even took place. And then I'd want to see proof that I or my friends had anything to do with any of them. Slander is also a crime, even for a superhero."

Vicky's smile had an edge to it, and Amy felt her aura ramp up a little more. "Oh yes, your father's a lawyer, isn't he? So's my mom. Remember her? Brandish? Carol Dallon? Works at the same firm as your dad? Only he specialises in divorce cases while she's a criminal lawyer. And I've already spoken to her. And she'll have spoken to him, so he's not gonna be able to back you up on this one. So sorry."

Emma blinked, but rallied fast. "Still doesn't mean that there's any case to answer. And if you follow me around, looking for proof, I can have you charged with harassment, lawyer mom or no lawyer mom."

Amy watched Vicky's hands begin to curl into fists as the aura ramped up yet again. That's not a good sign.

Figured it wasn't. Ah crap, too strong, too strong.

What? She was confused.

His inner voice was urgent. Get Vicky's attention. I'll explain once you have.

Okay. She cleared her throat; each of the others turned to look at her, except for Vicky, who kept her eyes on Emma. "Glory Girl? A word?"

Now Vicky half-turned her head. "What is it, Panacea?"

Amy tilted her head. "I need to speak to you, now."

"Can it wait?"

"No." She shook her head. "Now, please."

Reluctantly, Vicky broke eye contact with Emma and stepped over to her sister. "What?"

Ah, yeah, what?

Tell her to turn her aura the fuck down.

Now that he mentioned it, Amy could feel the heightened anxiety that came from being around Vicky when she was angry. It wasn't that she was immune, as she liked to tell Vicky, but that she was inured to it and could ignore the effect. "Vicky," she murmured. "You need to turn your aura down. Like, right now."

"What? Why?"

Assault with a parahuman power.

Amy realised that he was right. "Just do it," she whispered. The pressure of the fear upon her eased right off as Vicky complied. What made you think of that?

Been there before. If Emma hadn't thought of it, Sophia would have.

And in fact, even as he voiced the thought, Amy saw Sophia's face twist in disappointment.

How did you know?

"Okay, done. Now why did I do it?"

I've been in a situation where that came up. Didn't come to much at the time, but the threat is there. In fact, I'm personally surprised that she's never had a problem with this before.

Well, usually it's a street scumbag who's too scared to try anything. Even if they are, the threat of Carol Dallon, parahuman lawyer, is enough to make them back down.

With the merest of head movements, Amy indicated Sophia. Her lips barely moved as she spoke. "She was getting set to claim that you were assaulting her with a parahuman power."

Vicky frowned. "I never touched her."

"Your aura," Amy said succinctly. "You're making them fear you. Legally, a case could be made for an assault charge."

Vicky blinked; it was obvious that she'd never even considered that before. "That's never happened before."

Amy echoed Michael's words. "First time for everything."

"Okay." Vicky bit her lip. "Want to take over?"

"Uh -" I'm not sure about this.

You'll be fine. But I can take over if you want me to.

That put steel into her spine; a moment later, she wondered if he had intended it that way. Then she stopped wondering. No, I can handle it.

She stepped over to face Emma. "So, let's take this from the top."

Emma looked her up and down. Her expression wasn't quite a sneer, but nor was it exactly respectful. "Why don't you just admit that you've got nothing and go away?"

"Because that wouldn't be exactly true," Amy said steadily. "You see, yesterday, I rode on the bus with Taylor. We got to talking and she let slip something that made me ask a few questions. Questions that led to this moment. She revealed that she's been getting bullied here on a daily, almost an hourly, basis."

Emma tossed her hair. "She's always complaining about something. Nobody likes her, you know. She tells tales to get attention and to get others in trouble. She could be lying to your face and you'd never know."

Amy smiled. "Well, that's the problem. My powers tell me when someone's lying, with a one hundred percent success rate. She never lied to me." Okay, details please.

Coming right up. Michael began speaking inside her head; she repeated his words carefully.

"Just for instance, her backpack has been stolen on several occasions. She doesn't use her locker any more, because even since the time she was locked in it – and yes, we'll get back to that – because it's been broken into at least four times, and personal items stolen." She looked at Sophia. "You stole her mother's flute from her locker, and asked Emma what to do with it." Her gaze switched to Emma. "You told her to mess with it, destroy it, make it so that Taylor would never even want it again."

"You can't prove either of those allegations!" burst out Emma.

"True," murmured Amy, "but there's more. Principal Blackwell, I presume you have access to all student email accounts?"

"I, uh, yes," the principal said. "Why do you want to know that?"

"Because I want you to access Taylor Hebert's accounts. All of them. Tell us what you find in them."

Blackwell frowned. "All of them? Each student is supposed to have just one."

Amy sighed theatrically. "Apparently Taylor needs more than one to hold all the hate emails she gets on a daily basis." She gestured. "Please humour me."

"Principal Blackwell, are you honestly going to let a couple of kids who don't even attend Winslow tell you what to do?" Emma's voice was the very epitome of reason.

"Am I honestly going to have to call my mother and ask her to start preparing the paperwork for the lawsuit?" responded Amy sweetly. "This way, it gets dealt with in-house. The other way is extremely expensive for the school and for your family, Emma, plus those of your friends. And I'm pretty sure that Winslow won't be thrilled at you dragging its good name through the mud."

Such as it is, appended Michael. Amy didn't repeat that bit out loud.

The principal was looking back and forth between them like a spectator at a tennis match. "This is highly irregular," she managed at last. "Panacea, Glory Girl, if you have formal charges to lay, then lay them. But as it is, you're disrupting the running of this school. These girls have classes to go to, and I have work to do."

"So your paperwork is more important than getting to the bottom of an ongoing campaign of bullying? One that's been happening since the beginning of school, the year before last?" Amy didn't need Michael's prompting. "The victim and perpetrators are right in front of you, and you're not going to do anything about it?"

Emma opened her mouth. "Those are baseless allegations -" she began.

"Miss Barnes, I'll handle this," Blackwell said. "Panacea, I don't know how New Wave handles this sort of thing, but I presume you wait until you have some evidence that the person you're accusing actually has something to do with the crime? Just saying 'he did it' isn't exactly legal or ethical."

"This is why we had you call Taylor here as well," Amy pointed out. "She's the victim. She's the witness. She was there. Taylor?"

Startled, Taylor cleared her throat. "I have been getting bullied, Principal Blackwell," she confirmed. "Repeatedly. Daily. By these three and their friends."

Blackwell frowned. "Then why haven't you been telling the teachers?"

"Because it's happening in front of the teachers, and they haven't been taking notice, or if they have, they haven't cared enough to do anything about it," Taylor replied, her voice rising slightly. "Just for one example, Mr Gladly ignores everything that Madison and Julia do to me."

"I find that hard to believe," the principal said. "Mr Gladly is a very conscientious teacher."

"Oh, he pays attention all right," Taylor told her bitterly. "To the popular kids. I'm not a popular kid. I may as well be part of the wallpaper. Madison walks to the trash can to sharpen her pencil. On the way, she pushes my books off my desk. On the way back, she dumps the shavings over me. And he doesn't see a damn thing."

Blackwell cleared her throat. "Language, Miss Hebert."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry. He doesn't see a darn thing, then. It's still true."

"If you called attention to this, then he would have to do something about it," Blackwell pointed out.

"Oh, he sees it. Barely." Taylor shook her head. "Just the other day, we had a class assignment to do with capes. I did a pretty good one. He split us into groups. Madison was part of my group. She stole my assignment and gave it to Emma, who presented it for her group."

"That's not exactly something that would lead to criminal liability -" began the principal.

Taylor held up her hand. "I wasn't finished. After the class was over, he kept me back, told me that he wasn't blind, that he saw stuff was going on."

"Well then," the principal stated, a smile beginning to cross her face. "As I said."

"Except that he wanted me to name names," Taylor said. "On my own? With nobody backing me up? Even if it stuck, it would come to nothing and I'd be even more of a social pariah than I am now. I told him exactly how useless that would be. So when I left the classroom, Emma and her friends surrounded me, calling me names. Taunting me. Sophia even stole my backpack. And he was right there, locking up the classroom. He even looked over at me. Then he walked away."

There was silence for a moment, then Emma spoke up. "That didn't happen." Her voice was bold, daring anyone to contradict her.

Amy reached out to Taylor. "May I?"

Taylor blinked. "Uh, sure?" She allowed Amy to take her by the hand. Amy became fully aware of every biological process, every aspect of her. "What do I do now?"

"Just answer this. What you just said, about Mr Gladly and Emma and her friends, was it true in every regard?"

"Uh, sure," Taylor said. "Absolutely. After it happened, I was so upset that I walked out of the school. Skipped the rest of the day."

Amy felt the hormonal balances, the tensions in her body. Thanks to her power, she could read them like a book. She turned to Blackwell. "She's telling the truth. Not even lying a little bit."

"So she says," Emma stated flatly. "We can't see what's going on."

Amy felt her lip curl very slightly. "My powers are well documented. I will testify to the absolute truth of her statement in any court of law."

"And I'll back her up," Vicky said. "This is Panacea. She cured the president of what's-that-place's kid of cancer. She didn't just get her powers yesterday, you know."

They both turned to look at Principal Blackwell, who was beginning to develop a particularly hunted look. "I'll, uh, speak to Mr Gladly about this matter," she muttered. "If it's true, it's definitely something we're going to have to look into."

"Really?" Vicky's tone was definitely sarcastic. "If it's true? We come in here telling you what's been happening and you're still covering your ass as hard as you can?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" demanded the principal. "I'm fully aware that you, Glory Girl, could pull the school down around my ears if you so wished. And you, Panacea … well, I don't know exactly what you could do, but I can't just ignore you. However, on the other hand, I can't just take everything you say in blind faith, because if you're mistaken -"

Sophia and Emma had been whispering together, and now Emma spoke up. "Or lying -"

"Don't even go there." Vicky's voice was flat, almost emotionless, but Amy felt her aura beginning to ramp up again. Oh, crap. "Don't ever call my sister a liar."

Amy didn't need Michael's reminder; hastily, she cleared her throat. Vicky looked at her; Amy patted the air in a downward motion. The emotional pressure receded, but it was too late. Sophia put her hand to her throat. "Principal Blackwell," she said, "may I be excused? Glory Girl's aura is making me feel unwell."

"Me too!" Madison added hastily. "It's making me feel really horrible."

Emma looked at the principal while pointing at Vicky. "See what she's doing? She's controlling our emotions with her aura. She's attacking us. Does that seem like the fair or right thing to do? Especially for a superhero?"

"I'm not doing it now," protested Vicky. "And it's not an attack. It's just my aura. It shouldn't be affecting you any more."

"Well, it is," Sophia claimed. "I don't feel good at all. Principal Blackwell, I think she's trying to intimidate us into confessing stuff we never did."

Principal Blackwell shook her head. "That's unconscionable, Glory Girl. And highly unethical."

"But I'm not doing it!" Vicky's face was a study in frustration. "It wouldn't affect them that much, and I've turned it off anyway. They're faking it for sympathy."

"I could feel it earlier," Blackwell told her flatly. "That's enough for me. Please leave my school now. Don't come back without an express invitation."

"But -"

"Glory Girl." Blackwell pointed at the door. "Go, now. Before I'm forced to call your parents."

Well, that's one way to deal with a parahuman that isn't in the standard procedures.

Shush, you.

Vicky set her jaw, looking mutinous. Amy felt the first stirrings of her aura once more, and nudged her. "Go," she murmured. "I got this."

Oh god, I hope I got this.

We got this. It's okay. But I gotta say, Emma's sticking to her guns. Didn't know she had it in her.

"You sure?" Vicky asked, just as softly.

"Sure," Amy replied with a smile that she didn't feel. "Wait outside."

"I don't like leaving you alone."

"But I'm not alone," Amy reminded her. "I'm good. Just go."

Slowly, reluctantly, Vicky went to the door and opened it. One last glance, then she was gone.

"Is anyone still feeling unwell?" asked Amy brightly. "I can check you over, if you want. Make sure there's no lasting side-effects."

The looks traded between the four girls carried a wealth of communication. Emma spoke for the group. "No, we're good. Now that she's gone."

"Are you certain?" asked Amy. "Just to be sure?"

"We're certain," Emma assured her. "We're all feeling just fine."

"Translation," Taylor put in dryly, "they don't want you being able to say they're lying if you ask them any questions while checking them over."

Well, that was plan A.

Nice try, but yeah, they got there first. But, on the upside …

Amy grinned at Emma. "It also means that Vicky was right, and her aura did wear off pretty quickly, then, yeah?"

Emma frowned. "It was still really unpleasant. We didn't consent to that at all. Maybe a lawsuit -"

"Nope." Taylor cut her off. "I met Glory Girl for the first time yesterday. I've felt her aura. I can testify that the effects wear off pretty quickly." She turned toward Principal Blackwell. "Have you gotten into my email accounts yet?"

"I, uh, no," Blackwell replied, taken aback by the question. "Is it really necessary to … ?"

"Uh, yes," Taylor said firmly. "You want proof that I've been bullied, here's evidence they can't explain away or hide. Open them up and have a look."

"Whatever's in those email accounts," Emma interjected, "anyone could have written it. It wasn't me or my friends."

"Wow, it's almost as if you know there's bad stuff in there," Taylor commented.

"Well, you said there was," Emma countered.

Blackwell was tapping away on her computer. "Here we are … Taylor Hebert … seriously? How many email accounts do you have?"

Taylor sighed. "I'm not sure. I've been through about one for every two weeks of school. The inboxes get clogged up with hate mail."

"It sounds to me like you've upset someone, Taylor," Madison ventured. "Maybe, whatever you're doing, you should stop it."

"I've done nothing to anyone," Taylor insisted. "This is all happening to me. I'm the victim here."

Blackwell clicked the mouse a few times; Amy guessed that she was reading one of the emails. The principal's lips moved silently as she studied the screen. Amy watched the line between her eyebrows, already prominent, deepen considerably.

The temptation to say something was almost unbearable, but she kept quiet. Blackwell clicked on to another email, then a third. Then she did something else that Amy couldn't interpret. Finally, she sat back from the computer and looked at the girls in the room.

"That was … disturbing," she admitted. "Someone obviously bears a lot of ill-will toward you, Miss Hebert. Are they all the same?"

"'Eat broken glass, I hope you die in a fire'? That sort of thing?" asked Taylor. Blackwell nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

"And your email accounts. They're all full?"

Taylor nodded. "All except for the latest one, yeah."

Blackwell folded her hands and looked at Emma. "And what do you have to say about this?"

The redhead looked defiantly back at her. "What I said before. We didn't do it."

Can we prove they did?

Not conclusively. They didn't do anything stupid like sign their names to any emails. Throwaway accounts only.

Oh. Then what can we do?

Remind them that there's other stuff.

Oh, like the locker?

Like the locker.

Amy cleared her throat. "That's fine. That was just to prove to you that there is ongoing bullying. Now, there's been some physical incidents as well. Such as the locker."

Taylor swallowed involuntarily, and Blackwell's lips tightened. It was obvious that neither one had fond memories of that incident.

Emma, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes slightly. "And I suppose you're going to blame us for that, too."

"Well, yeah," Taylor told her boldly. "I saw you in the crowd just before I opened my locker. All three of you. It's something you'd do."

Principal Blackwell cleared her throat. "Taylor, can you prove that they are the ones who put the trash in your locker, then locked you in with it?"

Taylor locked eyes with Emma for a long moment, then shook her head. "I was puking at the time. But I know it was you."

"You don't know anything," Sophia told her.

"Wait, wait," Amy said. "You weren't looking, right? But just before, you had seen Emma and who else?"

"Sophia and Madison," Taylor replied at once. "Right near my locker. Watching me."

Amy turned to Emma. "So you were there, but you say you didn't push her into the locker?"

"No," Emma said defiantly. "I didn't lock her in the damn locker."

"But you were there," Amy pressed. "Right?"

It was Sophia who answered. "Sure we were there. But like Emma said, we never locked her in the locker."

Amy didn't say any more; she just turned to Principal Blackwell and raised an eyebrow. It took the principal a moment or two to get the point. "Wait," she said. "You saw Taylor get locked into a locker full of … toxic sludge and you never did anything about it? Didn't raise the alarm? Didn't tell a teacher? You just left her there?"

Hah!

What?

Nicely done. I didn't even see that coming.

Internally, Amy grinned. I don't think they did either.

The three girls were looking at one another in some consternation. Sophia recovered first. "Uh, we didn't actually see her get locked in her locker. We were just passing by."

"Bullshit," snapped Taylor. "You were standing. Watching. You weren't going anywhere. You knew what was in there. And if you didn't, the smell would have clued you in. It was rank."

"I tend to believe her." Blackwell's tone was judicious. "If nothing else, you would have been aware that someone had pranked her. The urge to stay and watch is almost irresistible. I think that you were at least aware that she had been locked into her locker." She stood up, placed both hands flat on her desk, and leaned forward. "Which means that while it can't be proven that you put her in there, I am convinced that you deliberately left her in there."

Madison and Sophia opened their mouths to protest, but Emma waved them to silence. "And so what if we did?" she asked boldly. "We're teenagers. We're not legally responsible for any of this. So we stood in the crowd and watched. It's a peer group thing."

"Pshh, yeah, as if," Taylor jeered. "You don't follow peer group pressure, Emma. You dictate it."

Emma looked her directly in the eye. "Prove it," she invited softly.

"Enough." Principal Blackwell sat down and nodded to Amy. "Please continue."

Uh, give me something else, quick.

Okay then. Michael began to speak; Amy followed along.

"How about the incident in the girls' bathrooms, on the third floor? Last week? Remember that?"

"I couldn't exactly forget it," Taylor replied. "It was Friday. I was eating my lunch in the bathrooms, and they came in. Emma held the cubicle door shut while Madison and Sophia poured their drinks over me from either side. Then they walked out laughing." She gave Amy an odd look, then turned back to Blackwell. "I saw them. There was no doubt. They were standing there outside the cubicle when I opened the door. Making jokes."

That was the day she decided to actually go out in costume for the first time.

Oh. Wow. Amy looked at Taylor with a little more respect. She's pretty good for a first-timer.

"And what do you say to that?" Blackwell's gaze on Emma wasn't exactly benign.

"She's lying." Emma's voice was firm. "We were nowhere near those bathrooms. Either she's making the whole thing up, or someone else did it and she's blaming us."

Wow, the technique of the Big Lie is alive and well.

You're not wrong. Aloud, Amy cleared her throat. "Taylor?" She held out her hand. Taylor promptly took it. "Have you lied in any substantial way about any of this? Did you actually see Emma and Madison and Sophia in the bathrooms after the drinks were poured over you?"

Taylor nodded. "I'm not lying. I did see them. I also saw Madison and Sophia tipping the drinks over me. Some of it went into my backpack and ruined my books."

Amy felt the strength of her conviction translated into brain chemistry. She nodded in turn, looking at Blackwell. "I believe her. She's telling the truth."

Blackwell laced her fingers before her. "Well, then." She eyed the quartet of girls with some disfavour. "Panacea is a well-regarded superhero. I have no reason to believe that she is lying about incidents with which she has no connection. She's proven that Taylor is being bullied, and by your own admission you have at least allowed Taylor to suffer a particularly grotesque prank. Each of you has also been implicated in at least one other prank. I'm seeing a pattern here."

Emma's face was a study in stunned disbelief. "But – but we didn't do it!" she protested. Had not Amy read the truth from Taylor's biology, she may even have believed Emma, so good was the act.

"Merely saying so doesn't make it so, just as I told Panacea earlier," the principal told her. "Contact your parents, all of you. There will be a meeting this afternoon to deal with this matter, once and for all."

Amy felt relief settle over her. Well, that should sort them out.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Huh?

Trust me, Alan Barnes is as twisty as a snake. And if he doesn't have someone there to trump him …

Oh. Right. "Uh, Principal Blackwell?"

Blackwell looked over at her. "Yes, Panacea?"

"With your permission, I'd like to attend the meeting as well, along with my mother. Who will be representing Taylor, in her professional capacity." Ignoring Taylor's wide-eyed stare, she gave Emma a tight smile. "You bring your lawyer, we'll bring one for Taylor."

"Can she even do that?" demanded Sophia. "It's not like she even attends Winslow."

"I won't be here as a student," Amy told her with some satisfaction. She turned to Principal Blackwell. "With your permission, I'll be here as a superhero. However, Taylor has the right to legal representation in this sort of situation, and that will be my mother."

Outwardly, she was doing her best to radiate confidence. Inside, she was not so sure. Oh god, I hope I can get her to come.

Ask Vicky to make the call, Michael suggested pragmatically. Get her to play up how smug and self-serving they are. Most especially, how long they've been getting away with it. It should push a few buttons.

I'm not sure exactly why, but I'll take your word for it.

"But why do you even need to be here for it?" Emma pressed. "It's not like you have a stake in this."

"Sure I do," Amy told her sweetly. "I've undertaken to protect Taylor. So I will be coming back -"

No, you're staying for the day.

What?

Just trust me.

Amy looked to Blackwell. "Uh, I mean, again with your permission, I'll be staying here for the day, and asking my mother to come to the meeting this afternoon." She tried not to stumble over the phrase 'my mother'. "To make sure that justice is done."

Blackwell eyed her curiously. "And exactly why are you staying?"

Yes, why am I staying?

Do you honestly think they won't try to coerce her into backing down, or at least get retribution for this, the moment you walk out the doors?

What, really?

A snort. Wanna take the chance?

But she can take care of herself -

Okay, would you rather see her go bugpocalypse on the school?

… I think I'll stay.

Good idea. I wish I'd thought of it.

She ignored that, and deliberately looked Emma in the eye. "I'm thinking that some of Taylor's bullies might not get the message that she's off limits." She faced Blackwell, her tone less challenging. "So, if I may, I'll be hanging around and keeping an eye on her, just to be sure that nothing untoward happens between now and this afternoon."

"I'll have to check with the PRT," noted Blackwell. "Just to okay your presence as a cape in the school." Interestingly enough, she herself didn't seem to have a problem with it.

Oooh.

What?

This could be interesting. His mental 'voice' was gleeful, but he didn't explain any further.

Blackwell picked up the phone, then looked at the six girls. "Wait in the outer office until I've finished this call."

One by one, they trooped out, Taylor sticking close to Amy. Madison, the last out, shut the door behind her. Emma immediately turned toward Amy.

"Okay," she said in a low tone, "what's this really about? Because I refuse to believe that you met this loser and spontaneously decided to fix her bullying problem."

Amy gazed back at her, not speaking, for a long moment. She studied Emma's expression carefully, trying to figure out what was going on behind her eyes. "Do you even hear yourself?" she asked at last. "Taylor was your best friend, once upon a time. Do the words 'loyalty' and 'commitment' actually mean anything to you?"

Emma flinched as though she had been slapped. "Sophia, back me up here." When there was no answer, they both looked around. Sophia had her phone out and had turned away from the group. Her hands were cupped around the phone and she was speaking in a low voice. "Sophia!"

Sophia didn't even look around; instead, she waved Emma away without pausing in what she was saying. Amy caught the words "- to the Director -" before her hand cupped over the phone once more.

Who's she calling?

Her social worker. Otherwise known as her PRT handler.

Oh.

Yup. Now, if Taylor's gonna call her dad, you're gonna have to lend her your phone, Michael suggested. She doesn't own one. Her dad won't allow them after her mom died in a car accident, texting.

Oh. Wow. That's rough. But maybe I should call Vicky?

I'd actually give it a moment. You're going to be getting a phone call from the PRT sometime shortly. And they're gonna be asking what the hell's going on with Shadow Stalker.

Oh. Right.

And as Sophia's calling the PRT right now, you'll need to answer fast, before Sophia gets her version out there.

I … yeah. I see your point.

At that moment, her phone rang. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Director Piggot herself.

Told you.

Turning away from Emma, she accepted the call and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Panacea?" She was pretty sure she recognised the voice.

"Yes. Are you calling about …" She paused for just a moment, unwilling to name Sophia in either her normal identity or her masked ability. "Uh, about one of your Wards?"

"Yes, I am. Are you where you can speak privately?"

"Just one second, please." Gesturing to Taylor to follow, she pushed open the door into the hallway and stepped through. Taylor followed as she walked a short distance down the corridor. "Now I am."

"Good. I just got a call from Principal Blackwell at Winslow High, telling me that you're saying that Shadow Stalker has been perpetrating a long-term bullying campaign against another girl at the school, aided and abetted by other students there."

"Yes, ma'am. I believe that implicitly."

"Do you have any evidence?"

"There are written sheets, detailing actions by Sophia Hess against this girl," Amy told her. "She has accused Sophia and her friends of orchestrating these actions against her. Using my powers, I have verified that she is speaking the absolute truth as she knows it."

"I see." There was a long pause; Amy began to wonder if the Director had put the phone down and walked away. But then the Director's voice came back on the line. "So you personally believe Sophia Hess to be a bully? This isn't just some casual schoolyard hazing?"

"Her actions go far beyond 'hazing' and fall into the lap of 'criminal intent'." Amy made her voice as firm as she could. "One of the other girls just asked me why I'm defending 'that loser'."

"Very well. I see. Thank you. So you will be staying on at Winslow for the day to ensure that nothing else happens to this girl? What's her name, by the way?"

"Her name is Taylor Hebert and yes, I will. Do you want to speak with her? She's right here."

"I … think I'll leave that for a later time. Have you told her who Sophia is?"

Amy thought back. She knows, but … "No, I haven't."

Oooh, semantics, even. I like it.

Shush.

"Good. Please do not. We don't need that complication on top of everything else. Do your parents know about this?"

"Not yet. I was about to call them when you rang."

"Understood. The sooner they know what's happening, the better. Principal Blackwell has said you will be getting one or both to sit in on the meeting?"

"If I can get Brandish to sit in on Taylor's behalf, I will," Amy told her. I am not going to call her 'my mother' again.

The Director didn't seem to notice. "As a lawyer or as a cape?"

"Lawyer. One of the other girls has a father who's a lawyer, and that would give her an unfair advantage in this situation. So I've decided to level the playing field."

There was a pause, and Amy heard the rattle of computer keys. "This would be Alan Barnes, father of Emma Barnes?"

Damn, she is on the ball.

Yup. Bitter, yes. A little bigoted, yes. Stupid, hell and no.

Got that, yeah. "The very same."

"Understood. Ah; I have a call coming in on another line. I would very much appreciate it if you could fill me in on what happens in that meeting."

Almost, Amy asked the question out loud, but she restrained herself in time. What, she can't just ask Sophia or the social worker?

Neither one of whom has seen fit to tell her about the bullying so far. You're an independent source.

Oh. I see.

"Are you there?"

"Oh, sorry, yes, ma'am. I can definitely do that."

"Good." And without further ado, the Director hung up.

Well, that was abrupt.

She's not exactly one for diplomacy. Michael's 'voice' was more than a little amused.

The door into the office opened, and the secretary looked out at them. "Oh, there you are. The principal wants you back inside."

"Coming," Amy replied. She nodded to Taylor; they both went back into the office.

You should have mentioned the arrows.

We can do that later, right?

Probably.

<><>​

"Director Piggot made it very clear to me," Blackwell stated. "Panacea is here in her capacity as a cape, not as a student. She will remain in the general vicinity of Taylor Hebert, given that her stated goal is to ensure Taylor's well-being for today. I will be informing the faculty of this situation."

She looked at the group of girls before her, apparently awaiting a response, before going on. "If there is any attempt to interfere with either one of them, then I will come down on the offender like a ton of bricks."

"Wait, wait," protested Emma. "Are you accusing us of -"

"I am accusing you of nothing, Miss Barnes," Blackwell told her. "I am making a general statement. If you have no intention of bullying Miss Hebert or causing problems for Panacea, then you have nothing to worry about." She turned to Amy. "Do you have any issues with any of this?"

"None whatsoever, Principal Blackwell," Amy replied politely. "I just need to speak with Glory Girl before classes start, so that she knows what's going on."

"Do so outside, then," Blackwell said. "No doubt she means well, but that aura is not what we need in a school already filled with highly-strung teenagers."

I'm guessing this means she won't be able to stay as backup for us, in case of trouble.

I'm thinking you're right.

Was this in the original plan?

Hell no. I liked the idea of having Vicky there to get us out of strife.

Out of what?

Strife. Trouble.

Oh. Okay. So what do we do?

We see it through. Unless you want to pull out, of course.

Amy shook her head, then realised what she'd done. "Oh, uh, you're perfectly within your rights, of course," she agreed belatedly. "I'm kind of used to her aura, but being exposed to it for the first time can be rather overpowering."

Principal Blackwell nodded. "Yes. Well, classes start soon, so you'd better go now."

"Sure thing, and thank you for your patience, ma'am," Amy said. "Come on, Taylor."

<><>​

As they headed along the hallway, Taylor's voice was almost hushed. "That was … awesome."

Amy grimaced. "It could have gone a lot better. We could've caught them out in a lie, or Vicky could've been not kicked out of the school. Just for instance."

"Yeah, no, I get that. But the last time anyone came in and laid down the law like that, it was Dad, when the locker thing happened. No-one else has done it for me, ever."

"Wait a minute." Amy was starting to put a picture together, and she didn't like the look of it. "You were bullied for like a year before the locker thing happened."

"Uh, yes."

"And your dad never intervened before then?"

Taylor was looking uncomfortable. "Uh, he didn't know?"

Amy stared. "What? Why didn't you tell him?"

The look of discomfort increased. "Because, well, he had enough on his plate. And we were still getting over Mom. And if you hide something like that long enough ..."

She trailed off, but Amy was nodding. "It's really hard to start admitting to it. Okay, yeah. I can understand that one."

Michael made a throat-clearing noise.

What?

She might want to call her dad?

Oh. Oh, yeah. She pulled her phone out. "Want to call your father and tell him about the meeting?"

"Yeah, that might be a good idea." Taylor accepted the phone. "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

Uh, do you know if her father knows that she's …

That she's got powers? Not that I know of.

Should he be told?

Only by her. His voice was definitive. We could try to convince her to say something, but if she says no, we don't take matters into our own hands.

Okay. But …

What happens when he finds out eventually? He'll deal. He usually does.

She paused. Okay, you've lost me. He usually does what?

This isn't my first rodeo, remember? I've been through this before. Danny Hebert finds out that Taylor has powers at some point. Sometimes at the worst possible moment, sometimes not. But he loves her enough that he almost always accepts it, and her.

I have no idea how it would feel to be outed like that.

Well, yeah. You kind of grew up pre-outed. To you it's normal.

Sometimes it is, and sometimes I envy those capes who have a secret identity. They can take off the mask and be Joe Normal. I'm always Panacea, even when I don't want to be.

Which is basically all the time, now.

… yeah.

<><>​

Danny Hebert signed the last sheet and pushed the stack of paper into his Out tray. He eyed the new stack in the In tray and sighed. Standing up, he put his hands in the small of his back and pushed; vertebrae popped.

Stepping around his desk, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine; it was harsh and bitter, but it was hot. He was just stirring the second teaspoon of sugar into the brew when his desk phone rang.

"Okay, who is it this time?" he muttered, leaning over the desk and twisting his neck to read the caller ID. More vertebrae popped, but he took no notice; the number was not one he knew.

Frowning, he seated himself on the edge of the desk and reached back for the phone. Bringing the receiver to his ear, he took a sip of coffee and swallowed it before answering. "Dockworkers' Association, Danny Hebert speaking."

"Dad?"

He blinked a couple of times. "Taylor?" Of all the voices he had expected to hear, hers was not one of them. "What's up? Why are you calling me?"

"Nothing's the matter, Dad. I can't talk much right now, but Principal Blackwell wants you to come into Winslow after school finishes this afternoon."

"What? Why? What's happened?" A dozen scenarios popped into his head, all involving Taylor, all bad. But she didn't sound distressed; in fact, she sounded positively chirpy.

"Nothing. Well, nothing bad. But there's a meeting today with me and some other girls and their parents, and I'm pretty sure you need to be here too."

He took an aggravated breath, then let it out as a sigh. "Taylor. Slow down. What's this meeting about?"

Now she sounded less sure of herself. "Uh, you know how the school said they'd keep people from bullying me?"

"Yes?" An ominous feeling was building in his chest. "It's started again, hasn't it?"

"It, uh, never stopped?"

Briefly, he wished he could reach through the phone and shake her. "Taylor, dammit, I thought we talked about this. You were supposed to tell me about things like that."

"Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry. But it's being dealt with. Which is why the meeting."

" … dealt with?"

"Yeah. You're never gonna believe this. Superheroes came to the school, and now Principal Blackwell's looking really hard at the bullies."

"You're right. I don't believe it."

"It's what happened. Look, I gotta give Panacea her phone back. See you this afternoon?"

"Of course. See you then," he agreed automatically. She hung up before her previous words had time to register on him. When they did, his brain locked up for just a moment. What's she doing, borrowing Panacea's phone? What's Panacea even doing at Winslow?

Shaking his head, he placed the receiver back down on the cradle. This is one meeting I'm not going to miss for anything.

<><>​

"What? No! You're not spending the day here. Not a hope in hell."

Taylor leaned against the wall, watching Panacea talk to her sister. Glory Girl didn't seem to be taking the news well. Which, Taylor mused, was not much of a surprise; the blonde teen cape struck her as being somewhat protective of her 'little' sister.

"Yeah. I am." Amy, however, was capable of being just as stubborn. "You can't come back in till Principal Blackwell says you can. And you saw how Sophia and the others were. They'll have hours to plan something that won't look like their doing, but will be calculated to get at Taylor in some way. So I'm sticking right at her side till the meeting."

"Meeting?" Glory Girl looked puzzled. "What meeting?"

"What do you mean, what meeting?" Amy frowned. "I told you about the meeting, didn't I?"

"Well, no," Vicky told her. "What's happening?"

"Blackwell's getting Taylor together with the bullies, and she's told them to call their parents in. I'll be sitting in." Amy paused, looking a little awkward. "I, uh, kind of volunteered Carol to sit in as well. In case Emma's dad tries something."

Vicky winced. "Did you clear it with Mom first?"

The awkward look turned into a grimace. "Uh … could you? Ask her, I mean?"

There was a distinctly doubtful look on Vicky's face. "You're the one who made the decision. Pretty sure you should be the one to make that call."

"No way." Amy shook her head. "She'll listen to you. All the times I helped you out? I'm calling that in."

"You're … but … you … oh, crap." Vicky's face fell. "That's low, Ames."

Amy beamed at her. "Thank you." She paused, then went on. "And don't forget to point out how smug and arrogant they are, how they seem to think they should be allowed to keep doing it."

Vicky nodded. "Yeah, I can do that." She gave Amy a mock glower. "I never thought you'd hold that over my head. I thought family didn't do that."

That got a shrug from Amy. "Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Yeah, right." Vicky wrinkled her nose. "Okay, fine. I'll make the call." Pulling out her phone, she hit speed-dial.

<><>​

Carol Dallon stamped the document and set it aside. She was reaching for the next one when her mobile trilled at her, using the ringtone she had assigned to Vicky's calls. Putting the stamp down, she pulled the phone out and answered it. "Vicky. Has the situation at the school been resolved?"

"Uh, not quite."

She frowned. "What's happening?"

"Well, the bullies are smarter than we expected. They got me booted from the school. And Amy's spending the day here."

" … what."

Vicky began talking rapidly. "It's a long story. Well, not really. We were talking to the principal but the bullies kept winding me up, and I kind of let my aura slip a little, and they complained about that, so the principal told me to leave so I did."

She paused for breath, and Carol managed to get a word in edgewise. "That's unfortunate, but why does Amy want to spend the day there?"

"Because the bullies are real bitches, excuse my French. There's going to be a meeting after school with the girls and their parents. She's staying here to make sure they don't get to this girl before the meeting. And we think you should come along."

She frowned. "Why? Surely the principal has it under control?"

"Well, they've been specifically told to bring their parents in. And if Mr Barnes gets going, he might just twist things enough so they wriggle out from under."

"And you want me to come along to stop this from happening." She was already mustering the wording for turning Vicky down – it wasn't as if she had time to attend every hard-luck story – when her daughter spoke again.

"Yeah, Mom. You should see them. They're arrogant and smug as hell. Emma Barnes used to be the best friend of the girl who's being bullied, then she just turned around and stabbed her in the back. It really burns my butt to see it."

The words wouldn't come out. For a long moment she froze, undecided. I can't really afford -

Vicky was still talking. "And then there's Shadow Stalker. I thought she was supposed to be a hero. But the way she's acting, it's like she's been getting away with it for so long that she thinks she deserves to, you know?"

Carol spoke softly, her tone dangerous. "Oh, she does, does she?"

"God, yes. It's like they think the rules don't apply to them."

She smiled grimly. In her mind, she was already going through her daily planner, shuffling appointments around to make a free space. "I'll be there." And god help them. Especially Shadow Stalker. Heroes need to be held accountable.

"Thanks, Mom! You're the greatest. Love you."

"I love you too, Vicky," she replied. Automatically, her thumb pressed the button to end the call, but her mind was elsewhere. Images from her past rose, unbidden, in her mind's eye.

They think they can just get away with doing something like that, huh?

Not on my watch.

<><>​

"So she's coming?" Amy had figured as much, from Vicky's side of the conversation, but it paid to not assume anything.

"Oh hell yes she's coming," Vicky replied with a grin. "I pity the opposition."

Me too.

It'll be nice to have her being disapproving at someone else instead of me.

Yeah, well, first off, we've got to survive a day at Winslow.

Yeah, that. She took a deep breath. "Shall we go in?"

Taylor licked her lips and nodded, looking just a little nervous. "Let's go kick ass."

Amy grinned. "That's the spirit."

Together, they stepped forward and re-entered Winslow High School, just as the bell rang for the next period.


End of Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

 

[alethiophile]

Fun things.

For some reason I never tire of scenes where the trio actually get slapped down by the operations of formal authority like they should be.

 

[Asheram]

Ah, Carol. Being played like a fiddle you are.

 

[Ack]

Ah, Carol. Being played like a fiddle you are.

Click to shrink...

... and the problem with this is?

 

[Krazyfan1]

Brilliant as always

 

[Asheram]

... and the problem with this is?

Click to shrink...

Not a problem at all, good sir! I am firmly in the "Carol desperately needs mental healthcare" camp so this is all good.

 

[Zackarix]

Not conclusively. They didn't do anything stupid like sign their names to any emails. Throwaway accounts only.

Click to shrink...

Most of the emails came from throwaway accounts, but not all of them, at least in canon. I believe that the ones that didn't come from throwaways were dismissed as evidence with the excuse of "They could have forgotten to log out of the terminals and somebody else could have used them."

I wonder how Taylor managed to get multiple accounts in the first place. In my experience you get one automatically when you're enrolled in the school system, they don't hand out multiples to anyone who asks.

 

[Ack]

Most of the emails came from throwaway accounts, but not all of them, at least in canon. I believe that the ones that didn't come from throwaways were dismissed as evidence with the excuse of "They could have forgotten to log out of the terminals and somebody else could have used them."

I wonder how Taylor managed to get multiple accounts in the first place. In my experience you get one automatically when you're enrolled in the school system, they don't hand out multiples to anyone who asks.

Click to shrink...

Basically, when one was filled up, she probably just requested another, the admins went through with it and ignored the situation.

Alan spoke, "I think we all grasp that it's been unpleasant. You've established that, and I thank you for the insight. But how many of those incidents can you prove? Were those emails sent from school computers?"
"Very few school email addresses, mostly throwaway accounts from hotmail and yahoo," Mrs. Knott replied, as she flipped through the pages, "And for the few school email accounts that were used, we can't discount the chance that someone left their account logged in when they left the computer lab." She gave me an apologetic look.

Click to shrink...

Right, yeah. Forgot that bit.

 

[godzillahomer]

saw a bit of an issue, they called carol last chapter, there's no mention of that when Vicky calls her

other than that, great chapter

 

[Firedon]

Does it look like Carol completely forgot the legal council she had to give her daughters in the last chapter?
Edit:Ninja'd

 

[Ack]

Fixing that now.

 

[godzillahomer]

Nice change, we need the jaws theme, cause the trio are no longer alone in the legal waters

 

[Ack]

Rewritten the last couple of sections.

 

[Starfox5]

Good chapter. I like the dialogue, and the way the trio continues to resist, without caving in too easily. Almost a courtroom drama.

 

[theonebutcher]

I don't rightly get why they emphazised the smug thing. The "She became her friend and then stabbed her in the back once Taylor trusted her." THAT rings a major bell with brandish.

Also "They take it for granted that nothing will come from it, because the victim is just a loner girl and one of them is a superhero. If there ever was a moment New Wave was needed, it was now. To reiterate: They say PRT sponsored superheroes are above the law. Just imagine for one second being able to say that on TV."

 

[Ack]

The smug thing references Marquis.

To mention Shadow Stalker would basically out her to Brandish.

 

[Twilight666]

The smug thing references Marquis.

To mention Shadow Stalker would basically out her to Brandish.

Click to shrink...

Does she not already know there is a ward involved?
She was told on the last chapter so when she shows up she will know one of the girls, other than Alan's daughter, is a ward so it would not be so difficult to figure out (since the only other female ward is Vista)

 

[macdjord]

The smug thing references Marquis.

To mention Shadow Stalker would basically out her to Brandish.

Click to shrink...

Um...

Carol did not second-guess her. "Who is the Ward involved?"

Vicky and Amy looked at one another. Amy drew a deep breath. "Shadow Stalker."

Click to shrink...

 

[Ack]

Dammit. Too long between chapters.

 

[Ack]

Okay, final rewrite done. (Last section but one).

 

[Ack]

I, Panacea


Part Seventeen: Panacea at Winslow, Part the Second


Amy was used to spending time in school with people who knew her heroic identity. However, there were a few differences in this particular instance, each of which contributed toward a somewhat surreal experience.

In the first place, while everyone at Arcadia knew who she was, they were also accustomed to her presence. Nobody found it odd that Panacea was sitting at the next desk over; people would borrow a pencil off of her or lend her an eraser, without making a big deal out of it.

While she usually had Vicky nearby, this was not always the case. But even when Amy's super-strong sister was elsewhere, nobody hassled her or asked for an autograph. Someone wanting a selfie with her or Vicky was not an unusual occurrence; at one time, such photos had been common, with some people not even bothering to ask permission first.

The latter practice eased off when Brandish made a formal complaint to the Principal's office. There were still a few who didn't get the message, but when Vicky made a point of crushing their phones and cameras in her bare hands, even that had stopped.

But that was Arcadia. This was Winslow. She wasn't in costume which helped a little; given how much of her face it covered, she was actually less recognisable than most of New Wave, despite being the most famous healer in the world.

Wow. I'm guessing you're kind of sick of that phrase.

Yeah, I guess. It was nice at first to know that so many people thought I was so special.

But then you learned that 'special' meant 'never be able to quit', yeah?

She had long since stopped wondering where he got all of his unique knowledge about her situation. It was still a little weird when he referred to things that she'd only ever thought about in the privacy of her own mind.

Are you sure you can't read my memories? She hoped like hell that it was still the case, because otherwise she'd be blushing all day long. Nobody's uncensored memories should be put on public display, especially those of a teenager.

Absolutely certain. What I know about you is … well, it's from a unique source. One I can't tap from here, unfortunately. But like I said before, I can only really 'read' the thoughts you're thinking at the front of your mind. Background stuff, I can hardly even notice it's happening.

Right. Okay. So what do I need to be worried about? What do I need to watch out for?

"Where are we going now?" she asked out loud. "I kind of don't have any books."

Taylor, striding alongside her, grinned. "Pretty sure they won't actually ask you to do any work. Or if they do, you can borrow mine."

Wow, she's definitely in a better mood. Oh, and to answer your question, I'm thinking not overt pranks. You might not be able to punch through a brick wall, but you have someone on speed-dial who can. I'm guessing they'll go for a whispering campaign. They might even try to turn the gang kids against you.

It was taking all the concentration she had to keep the two halves of the conversation in order. "Uh, thanks," she said, in reply to both Taylor and Michael. Turning to Taylor, she went on. "You're definitely looking happier than you were earlier."

"Yeah, well, then I thought that you and Glory Girl had punked out on me. Like everyone else who ever promised to help." The flash of bitterness made Amy wince. "But then you showed. And even if we lose, the school can't ignore this shit any more. Not when superheroes are getting involved."

As one of the superheroes involved, Amy felt a flush of pride. "I just wish we didn't have to, to stop this sort of thing going on. I mean, if even one percent of this happened at Arcadia, to anyone, there'd be a metric ton of trouble landing on all concerned. Including any staff members who might've seen something but failed to do anything about it."

Taylor sighed. "Oh, God. I only wish." A faint crease marred her brow. "I just hope that they get the message and back off."

"Which reminds me," Amy said, recalling Michael's words. "Remember the guy I told you about on the bus? Security? He said they might try a whispering campaign, or even turn the gang members against us. Against me."

Now Taylor did look a little concerned. "Ooh. Yeah, maybe. Hopefully not, though. With any luck, any gang kids she talks to won't be that stupid."

Great. Now she's banking on the inherent intelligence of teenagers who've already joined a criminal gang.

Amy grimaced, acknowledging Michael's point. "Uh, they're gang kids. And we're depending on them to be smart?"

Taylor didn't look thrilled at all, but she nodded. "As much as I hate to say you're right …"

"Not me. Michael." Amy glanced around, trying to spot anyone who might be looking at them with particular malice. "Though I agree with him. It's not a great assumption to base our safety on."

When Taylor spoke next, there was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. "So we improve our chances. We might be alone in a school that doesn't care about our well-being – okay, my well-being – with a bunch of gang kids who might well be incited to move against us at any time, but there's nothing to say that we can't take precautions."

Okay, there's the Skitter that we know and love.

Why did I just get a bad feeling about this? Out loud, she asked, "Uh, precautions?"

Because you're a thinking, intelligent human being. I'm reminded of the quote from Watchmen.

Taylor's grin was now showing a few more teeth than normal. "Just keep your head down and follow my lead, okay?"

"Uh, okay." Amy was starting to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. Is she going to do something supervillainish? And who are the Watchmen? Are they a cape group I've never heard of?

Most likely. And Watchmen is a graphic novel that got made into a movie. They probably made it in Earth Aleph. There's a psychotic vigilante in there who says something like this: "I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with me."

Oh, yeah. Getting a really bad feeling about this.

He responded with a chuckle. Knew you were a smart cookie.

But what can she do without outing herself?

Trust me. With Taylor, there are ways and there are means.

Somehow, this failed to reassure her.

<><>​

Amy watched as the art teacher turned the sadly battered model of the Rig over in her hands. Miss Simone, as she preferred to be called, was a peroxide blonde, almost as skinny as Taylor, with hair that flared out from her head in all directions. Her fingers were long, with tiny cartoon decals on the nail extensions.

"But what happened to it?" the teacher asked, almost plaintively. "The last I saw of it, Taylor, you were doing wonderfully."

"My backpack got, uh, mishandled," Taylor told her woodenly. Amy winced, knowing what 'mishandled' really meant. "I'm sorry."

One garish fingernail tapped a purple stain. "This isn't mishandling, Taylor," Miss Simone said sternly. "What is this? Fruit juice?"

If anything, Taylor became even more wooden. Amy got the impression that the taller girl had been through this many times before. "Uh, yes. It got poured into my backpack."

Amy had had enough. "Miss Simone, Taylor's not telling you the whole story. There's three girls who are bullying her. They trapped her in her toilet stall and poured juice and soda over her."

"Oh." Miss Simone switched her attention to Amy. "That's very serious. Did you see this happen?"

"No." Amy set her jaw. "But she told me about it."

"Well, thank you, Panacea, for bringing this to my attention." Miss Simone turned brightly back to Taylor. "Did this really happen?"

"Uh …" Taylor glanced at Amy, who nodded encouragingly. "Uh, yeah. It happened."

"Well, if you can tell me their names, I'll take that to the principal," Miss Simone declared.

"She already knows," Taylor mumbled. "I just wanted to let you know why I wouldn't be handing it in on time."

"Oh." To Amy, Miss Simone seemed oddly deflated. "Who are these girls? Are they in this class?"

"No, they're not." Taylor spoke quietly but deliberately. "Their names are Madison Clements, Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess."

Amy watched the teacher's face as the names came up. Madison didn't elicit much of a response. Emma got a widening of the eyes, but it was Sophia's name that got the most telling reaction. Upon hearing it, Miss Simone's face simply … went blank. She knows that name, all right. And she's been told that Sophia's something special.

Are we surprised?

Not really.

"I see," Miss Simone said, and that was it. "Well, Taylor, I'll give you until Tuesday to fix your project, but I'm afraid I'll have to take ten percent off your mark for tardiness."

"But that's not -" began Amy.

"Thank you, Miss Simone," Taylor said, deliberately talking over her. "Come on, Amy. Let's sit down."

Amy wanted to keep talking, to make the teacher see that it was unfair to penalise Taylor for what the bullies did to her, but this wasn't her school and it wasn't her fight. So she followed the taller girl to a pair of adjoining desks near the back of the room, where they took their seats.

"But that's not fair!" hissed Amy, keeping her voice down. "They ruined your art project, not you!" She couldn't understand why Taylor was taking the down-marking so calmly.

Taylor grimaced. "Uh, the juice was them," she said, just as quietly. "But the actual damage happened when I kind of lost my temper and threw my backpack across the room afterward."

Amy blinked. "Wow. Sorry. I thought it was them for sure."

"No." Taylor shook her head, a wry grin on her face. "That bit was actually my fault. I should have chucked something less personal."

Amy was fully aware of the consequences of losing her temper while using her powers, and Taylor's could barely be any less dangerous. So she understood the slightly sheepish look that the taller girl gave her. The girls caused that outburst, but just like I've got to keep a grip on my temper, so does she. The consequences are too great to do anything else. But it looks like she knows that already.

Yup.

Wait, did you know about that?

Sure. His 'voice' was matter-of-fact. Why?

She channelled some of the aggravation she was feeling into her reply. Why didn't you give me a heads-up? I just looked like an idiot in front of Taylor.

But now, instead of me spoon-feeding you everything, you're finding out from her. Getting her to open up is a good thing.

She wanted to be angry at him for blindsiding her. The fact of the matter was that he was correct, as much as it aggravated her. This is you making sure that I connect with her on a personal level, isn't it?

Mayybe. She'd heard that innocent tone a hundred times from Victoria.

You suck.

Undoubtedly. But I do appreciate the way you're willing to stand up for Taylor. Pretty sure she does, too.

Well, now that I see the place, and the people, I can understand how hard it's been for her not to retaliate.

Not quite the hardened criminal, yeah?

Her aggravation had eased off, but she felt justified in a mildly sarcastic response. I'd already figured that out. There was no reply, so she turned her attention to the outside world.

Taylor was looking over the model, her expression rueful. Amy leaned over toward her. "Is it fixable?" she asked quietly.

"I guess," Taylor conceded. "But I'm going to have to take it apart. Which means tearing it. I had toothpicks giving it internal strength, and I'm pretty sure that they're mostly broken." She rubbed uselessly at a juice stain. "And this stuff will never come out."

"So we fix it," Amy declared. "We've got till Tuesday, after all."

Taylor's startled look made her grin.

"What, you'd do that?" Implicit was the question don't you have better things to do?

Amy held out her hand. "Give."

Her face a study in curiosity, Taylor placed the model in her hand. Amy turned it over, examining the juice stains.

Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?

Probably. Now shush. Amy licked her thumb, then waited for a moment before rubbing it over the purple mark. At first nothing happened, then the mark faded, becoming almost indistinguishable from the off-white of the heavy cardboard from which the model had been constructed.

Niiiice.

Amy allowed herself a tiny internal smile. Unable to resist a slight flourish, she handed the model back to Taylor. "I can do the same for the glue, if you want. That'll let you take it apart and glue it back together properly."

Her satisfaction grew as Taylor examined the place where the stain had been. "How did you do that?" asked the bug controller.

"Micro-organisms," Amy explained cheerfully. "We have something like a hundred trillion on or in our bodies at any given time. I gave my thumb a fresh coating and changed them to something that would eat dried fruit juice then die. Glue's organic. We can do the same for that, as well."

"Sure, that's -" Taylor looked around as Miss Simone began the class. "- something we can do later, I guess."

"Okay, sure." Amy turned to face forward, keeping her face impassive in spite of how pleased she was feeling at the moment.

That was nice. I approve. Also, kind of awesome. Micro-organisms for the win.

His approval sent a warm glow through her. Thanks.

This was the most she'd used her powers for something other than healing in years, and it was fun.

<><>​

English class at Winslow was about as boring as it was at Arcadia. The teacher, Mr Robbins, was tall and bland, with sandy hair and a neatly trimmed moustache. Amy had tensed up when she saw Madison and Julia in the classroom as well, but they did nothing more than shoot hostile glances toward Taylor and Amy.

As for the subject itself, Amy wasn't too bad at it, but it wasn't exactly her favourite. Taylor, on the other hand, seemed to be in her element. Far from retreating into her shell in the presence of her tormentors, she put up her hand for every question, and seemed to be able to answer every one correctly.

Amy wondered if Taylor wasn't being a little foolhardy, drawing attention to herself like that, until she realised what the other girl was up to. If the teacher's looking at her, those two can't pick on her.

And if they do try to pick on her in class, that gives both of you more ammo at the meeting. Michael seemed pleased with the situation.

Did you know she was going to do that?

Nope. But it's a smart idea.

Won't they try harder because of this?

Think they would've left her alone?

You've got a point. But there was still one more thing that Amy was wondering about. Michael no doubt had the answer, but he was encouraging her to talk to Taylor, so she waited until Mr Robbins was writing on the board..

"How do you know all this stuff?" she asked quietly.

"Mom used to teach college-level English," Taylor explained. "She got me into reading at an early age. When they couldn't get a sitter, she'd have me sit up at the back of the classroom with crayons. Sometimes I'd draw, but other times I'd listen. I picked up a lot of stuff, that way."

Amy tried to imagine doing the same with her mother's line of work. Sitting at the back of the courtroom, picking up a working knowledge of the law. Somehow, she suspected, she wouldn't do as well at it as Taylor was doing with English.

Turning back from the board, Mr Robbins held up a dog-eared copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "Everyone has been given a copy of this book for the semester. Who's actually read it so far?" From the tone of his voice, he didn't expect many people to respond.

Nor did Amy; she had tried to get into it once upon a time, but found it supremely dull. Not very much to her surprise, however, Taylor's hand went up almost immediately. Hers was the only one.

"Taylor, uh, Hebert, isn't it?" Robbins asked dubiously.

Taylor nodded. "Yes."

"And you've read it all the way through." His tone indicated that he thought otherwise.

"Yes." Amy saw the animation on Taylor's face. "It's a very interesting story."

"Indeed it is," Robbins agreed. "Can you tell the class what costume Scout wears to the Halloween party?"

Glad he's asking her and not me. I didn't even know there was a Halloween party in there.

Yup. She went dressed as a -

"A pork chop, sir," Taylor said promptly.

- pork chop.

"Hmm." Mr Robbins rubbed his chin. "Well, that's correct." He turned to stroll back to his desk.

What, you've read it too?

Several times. It's actually got interesting parallels to the social situation here and now.

Wait, wait, wait. Where you come from, you've got our books there too?

Well, yes.

"Next Friday," Mr Robbins said, momentarily distracting Amy, "I'll want a fifteen hundred word essay from everyone on To Kill a Mockingbird, drawing contrasts between society as depicted in the story and the modern world." The bell began to ring as he finished; chairs scraped on tile as students came to their feet. Raising his voice, he went on. "Taylor, could you stay back a moment, please?"

Taylor turned to Amy. "Go on ahead. I'll catch up."

Amy shook her head. "No. I'm staying right here." How is that even possible? You're from a different dimension!

Yeah, I am. But I can't tell you any more. A full answer would totally screw up your worldview. At best, you would think I was pulling your leg. At worst … I don't want to think about 'at worst'.

She tried to make sense of what he was saying. So your world is an alternate of ours, like Aleph?

For a long moment, he hesitated. Given a certain definition of 'alternate' … yes.

Are you going to tell me what that certain definition is?

No. That one word had a blunt finality to it, quite unlike his previous openness with information.

Before she could figure out what to say next, the last of the students filed out, leaving her in the classroom with Taylor and Mr Robbins. The teacher approached Taylor while Amy looked on.

"Taylor, up till now, I've been disappointed with your work," he said bluntly. "You hand in hastily-written assignments, or you hand them in late or not at all. Normally, I'd be putting it down to a lack of competence or interest in the subject, but today's performance tells me that's not the case. What's going on?"

Amy watched Taylor gather herself. "Are you sure that you want to know?" Amy could read the subtext. Because up till now you've been willing to write me off.

The flicker of a glance that Robbins sent toward Amy gave her the rest of the picture. And he's only talking to you now because I'm here. Lovely.

Welcome to Skitter's world.

Amy could see what he meant. I can see this environment producing a villain. Even if she intends to be a hero.

"Yes. I do." Robbins spoke firmly.

Wait for it …

Wait for what? She's standing up for herself. This is great.

Just wait. His voice held a certain amount of resignation.

To her credit, Taylor's voice was steady. "Are you aware that Madison Clements has been stealing my assignments and presenting them as her own, or simply destroying them before I could present them, for the last year? Or that Julia Morrow's been assisting her, along with some others?"

His eyes widened. "Really? That's … very out of character for Madison. She's a sweet kid. I have trouble believing that."

Amy cleared her throat. "You could check the handwriting, at the very least."

"I could do that," he said to her, then looked back to Taylor. "Can you name the others?"

Even before she started speaking, the corner of Taylor's mouth took on a bitter twist. "I can. Are you familiar with Emma Barnes or Sophia Hess?"

Shutdown in three … two … one …

Again, Amy saw the impact of the two names. Mr Robbins' expression changed, becoming almost unreadable. "I … yes, I am. Those are very serious charges. Are you willing to take them to the principal's office?"

"That depends." To Amy's ear, Taylor's voice was almost challenging. "Are you willing to look into it, or just sweep it under the carpet?"

"That's not a good tone to take with me on that," he snapped. "If this has been such a problem, why haven't you reported it by now?"

"I have. Repeatedly." The challenging tone was definitely evident, now. "Twice, to you. The first time, you asked Madison about it. She lied to your face and batted her eyelashes. Julia backed her up. I was the one who got in trouble. The second time, you didn't even bother pretending to believe me. After that, I stopped trying."

He looked more than a little taken aback. "I don't recall any of that. You're making it up."

Amy decided to weigh in. "Says anyone, ever, who's been caught out and doesn't want to admit it."

"Unless you've got proof of your allegations," he snapped, "then they're nothing but libel and slander."

"Why, Mr Robbins, I would've expected more from an English teacher," Amy retorted, trying not to raise her voice. I need to sound like a hero, not like a shrill teenager. "Taylor hasn't libelled you at all, and if it's true, it's not slander. Now, are you going to take what she said seriously, or are you going to ignore her, again?"

"Both of you, out of my classroom, now," he said, clenching his fists. "I'll be talking to Principal Blackwell about your behaviour."

We'll be talking to her about a hell of a lot more than that. Amy opened her mouth to say exactly that, but Michael got there first.

Don't say a word. Let's go.

What? Why?

I'll explain once we're outside.

Okay, but it better be good. Amy put her hand on Taylor's shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

Taylor nodded curtly. "Okay. Fine." She stalked from the room without another glance for Robbins.

"Panacea." It was the first time that the teacher had addressed Amy by name. "Please, wait. I was a little hasty, there." His tone had moderated, a lot.

Wow, I wonder if he realised that he just booted a cape from his classroom.

I don't give a damn. Amy's fists were clenched, and she realised that she was gritting her teeth. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"Please, just a moment. Please?" Robbins' tone was now almost pleading.

Maybe you should see what he has to say.

Maybe I don't care.

You know and I know that it won't change your mind, but it might be useful to let him think that it will. Michael's voice was calm, reasonable. She hated to admit it, but he had a point.

Okay, fine. We'll do it your way.

Stopping in the open doorway, she turned toward Robbins. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke. May I offer my apologies?" If Amy didn't know better, she would have said his tone was actually humble.

"You may." Not gonna say I'll accept them.

"Thank you." He looked relieved. "May I speak with you for just a moment?"

She looked at him. He was standing by his desk, without offering to go to where she stood.

Should I talk to him?

Let him say his piece. Then judge the crap out of him.

She almost smiled, but managed to keep it in check. Okay. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at where Taylor stood outside the classroom. "I'll just be a second," she said.

"Okay." Taylor moved back toward the doorway.

For her part, Amy headed over to the desk. "Yes?" She tried to strike a tone indicating neutrality.

Robbins glanced at where Taylor stood just inside the doorway, and lowered his voice. "I understand that you're here on her behalf, but … she's a loner. A troublemaker. I've heard things about how she makes up accusations to deflect blame from herself. Like just now."

"Really?" It was a lot of work to keep most of the scepticism she felt out of that one word. Some leaked through, however.

"Really." He didn't seem to have noticed it. "You're a great superhero. I mean, you've got a great future in front of you. If she's just an attention-seeker, this could only cause you problems."

"Thank you." She did her best to keep her disgust off her face and out of her voice. "I'll keep that in mind." And I'm not about to forget what you said to Taylor, either. Jerk. Turning her back on him, she walked from the room. Taylor stepped out of the doorway to make way for her.

And she sticks the landing, with a nine point five, a nine point five, and a six point five from the East German judge. Michael sounded amused. Amy couldn't quite figure out what he was talking about, but she got the gist.

Shush, you. He couldn't tell sarcasm if it … if it … She floundered, looking for a simile.

Ran up his leg and bit him on the bum?

Taylor stood waiting for her to catch up, looking more than a little pissed. However, this turned to confusion when Amy started giggling uncontrollably.

<><>​

It took her a few moments to regain her composure, during which time they began to stroll in the general direction of the cafeteria. Taylor shot her a glance loaded with what Amy had little trouble deciding was amusement. "You okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You're bad.

Well, duh.

Why didn't you let me tell him about the meeting with Blackwell?

The less he knows, the less he can spin things to make himself look better. If someone changes their ways just because they know authority is looking, there's every chance in the world that they'll change back when they know they're not under scrutiny any more. Blindsiding him is much better.

Oh.

And much more satisfying.

Amy felt herself smiling. You have a really good point.

"What are you grinning at?" That was Taylor. "Is there a joke I don't know about?"

"Not really," admitted Amy. "Michael was just pointing out why it's a good idea not to tell the teachers about the meeting. Blindsiding them is a lot more fun than letting them have any warning."

"Well, yeah," agreed Taylor, bumping Amy's shoulder with hers. "Trust me, I know how hard it sucks to have shit happen when I'm not expecting it. It's good to be able to inflict it on others for once."

"He's still probably going to bitch to her about us." Amy felt that it should be said.

Taylor nodded. "True. But because you didn't tell him, he took the chance to say something bad about me behind my back. Which you can now use to point out just how sucky the staff here is. Teachers gossiping about students? So wrong on so many levels."

Amy frowned. "I never told you what he said." We were right across the room. Was she reading lips, or listening in with her bugs?

Probably neither. She doesn't know how to read lips, and bug senses suck to the point that she can't listen to conversations with them yet.

Wait, what do you mean by 'yet'?

Nothing. But his tone meant anything but 'nothing'.

"Oh, puh-leeze." Taylor's voice was thick with sarcasm, echoing Amy's own thoughts, for entirely different reasons. "Exactly what else was he gonna say? Let me guess, I'm a loser loner who tells tales about being bullied and tries to get the popular girls in trouble?"

That was eerily close to the mark. Amy looked at Taylor with new respect. "Almost word for word. You just left out the part where you might get me in trouble if I kept defending you."

Taylor chuckled darkly. "Oh, of course. The best way to disarm me is to separate me from all support. Wonder if he'll ever realise that he's basically trying to do what Emma's been doing all this time?"

"Don't know. Don't care." Amy shrugged. "Fuck 'em all. I'm sticking right by your side."

That got her a briefly startled look from Taylor, followed by a shoulder-bump. This time, Amy bumped her right back.

<><>​

Amy looked at the lunchtime crowd in the cafeteria. To her trained eye, the divisions were clear to see. The Empire had a certain section of the cafeteria to themselves, as did the ABB. The Merchants were less picky about things, spreading here and there without caring much about where they sat. Then there were the non-gang-related cliques, segregating themselves against outsiders just as clearly as the gangs did.

Brockton Bay in miniature, Michael commented.

You're not far wrong, Amy agreed. All we need now is Uber and L33t.

Oh, that's easy. Greg Veder.

Who?

If you're lucky, you won't meet him.

Oh. Okay. She stepped into the cafeteria proper, then noticed that Taylor hadn't followed. "What's the matter?" she asked, turning to look at the other girl.

"I don't eat here," Taylor said. "It's too easy for someone to 'accidentally' spill their drink or something over me. Or over my backpack."

"Jesus, they don't even let up on you in here?" Taylor grimaced; immediately, Amy regretted the hasty statement. "Okay, yeah, that was kinda naïve of me. I'm still coming to grips with how far out of their way these bitches are willing to go in order to bully you."

"So how do they handle shit like that in Arcadia?" Taylor's voice was distant. Amy wondered if she was using her bugs to scout for trouble. Then she wondered how many bugs she was using to scout for trouble.

Amy shrugged. "Oh, uh, if there's trouble between students, the principal checks the security camera footage before talking to them separately. Clear-cut cases of bullying end up in detention. If it keeps up, suspension and expulsion are brought on to the table."

Taylor focused on her, now apparently interested. "And if it's not clear-cut?"

"If it can't be determined who's at fault, teachers are told to keep an eye on them in class. With the heightened scrutiny, if either one tries to cause problems again, they come down on them hard."

"Wow, I wish it worked like that here," sighed Taylor. "That's what they said they'd do, after … well, you know."

She didn't elaborate, but Amy figured it out easily enough. The locker?

The locker.

"And of course, they didn't." Amy shook her head, not knowing what to say. "Christ, if something like that happened in Arcadia, everyone involved – you know, except the victim – would be either in detention, suspended, or expelled. Probably the latter, unless all they did was stand and watch."

"Arcadia sounds nice." Taylor's voice was wistful.

Amy grinned. "Well, you know, they do have rules. Like no cell-phone use in class."

"Wouldn't matter to me. Don't use one." Amy saw Taylor's mouth tighten.

Oh, right. Yeah. Great going, dumbass. "But anyway," Amy forged on, "I didn't bring lunch, so I'm gonna have to buy some. And I'm gonna sit right here in the cafeteria and eat it. And you're gonna sit with me. Okay?"

For a moment, Taylor seemed to be about to object; Amy wondered if she'd pushed the other girl too hard. Has she really been abused so much, that she doesn't dare eat in public?

Well, basically, yeah. She's used to finding hiding places to eat, then rotating them when the girls find her and pick on her while she's eating. Like last week, she was eating in the bathrooms and they held the stall shut and poured juice and soda over her head and into her bag.

Was that when her art project got damaged?

That's the one.

Holy shit. "Hey," she said out loud. "Okay, look, we don't have to. We can get our lunch and eat elsewhere if you want." Where's a good place?

I used to eat mine on the front steps.

Okay, that sounds as good as any.

"No," Taylor stated almost angrily. "No. Like you said, fuck 'em. If you're gonna eat in the cafeteria, I'm gonna eat in the cafeteria." Something like a grin passed over her face. "Besides, someone's got to look after you."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "And here I thought I was supposed to be looking after you."

"Against the bullies, sure." Taylor's explanation was almost casual. "But only a Winslow student knows where not to sit in the cafeteria."

That, Amy decided, was a very good point.

<><>​

"So, how's the mystery meat?" Taylor seemed to be somewhat amused. Justifiably so; she had pulled a bag lunch from her backpack and was eating a pita wrap.

Next time I come to Winslow, I pack my own lunch. Amy was very definite about that.

Well, yes. Michael seemed to be sharing Taylor's amusement.

Amy prodded the meat-like substance doubtfully with her plastic fork. "I'm not sure if whatever this came from even existed in nature." Touching it with her forefinger didn't give her any more of a clue; fortunately for the health of the Winslow student body, it didn't hold much in the way of live organisms. She doubted that there was much in the way of nutrition, either. "Well, I guess it won't kill me …"

"That's the spirit." Taylor took another bite of her wrap, then paused after swallowing. "Don't look around, but we've got a bunch of Empire guys glaring at us. Your ten o'clock."

Amy rolled her eyes but kept her voice down. "How do you expect me to not look around once you've said something like that?"

"I thought you should know – shit, I said don't look around!"

Fuck it. Amy turned her head to see the table full of shaven heads, all the people on it looking her way with more than a little hostility. She picked out the oldest one by eye and locked gazes with him for just a moment. Then she turned back to Taylor. Let's see what happens.

The taller girl was staring at her as though she'd grown a second head. "What the fuck? You don't do that! That was a flat-out challenge!"

Uh, she's kind of correct. What was that about?

First: they might be Empire but I'm a cape. Second: I'm tired of people telling me what I can't do. Third: we both know that if they start anything on me, Kaiser will have their balls by the end of the day.

There was a new tone of respect in his mental 'voice' when he replied. Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay, I hope you're reading this one right.

Believe me, so do I.

"It was deliberate," she murmured to Taylor. "What are they doing now?"

"Uh, one of them's getting up and coming over." Taylor didn't look at all comfortable with the situation; Amy didn't blame her. "I think we should just go."

"No." She put her hand on Taylor's arm. For a moment, she was tempted to dial back the amount of adrenaline in Taylor's bloodstream, but she restrained herself. That sort of thing needs to be consent only. Michael didn't comment, but she felt the warmth of his approval. "I got this."

Timing her move with the widening of Taylor's eyes, Amy turned as the boy she'd locked eyes with approached. Unhurriedly, she stood, bringing her eye level closer to his. He was still taller than her, but not by a lot. "Can I help you?" Her tone was polite, but disinterested rather than dismissive.

"You're Panacea." He spoke loudly, uncaring of whoever heard.

He's putting on a show.

I know. Shh. "Yes." While his stance was aggressive and bullish, hers was relaxed, arms at her sides. "I'm aware of this. What about it?"

"What's a superhero like you doing in a shithole like this? Getting dirt on us?"

She shook her head. "Nope." Not that it would be hard, but … "I'm not here for that. Right now, I'm just doing a favour for a friend." The 'friend' being Taylor, but they don't need to know that.

… I think he was put up to this. The way he came up to you, he knows Glory Girl isn't gonna interfere.

I think you're right.

"For a friend, huh?" He gestured toward Taylor, adding a sneer for good measure. "She a hero, too?" Keep it together, Taylor …

Amy moved forward, into his space, but she didn't raise her voice. "No. She isn't a hero. She's just someone I'm looking out for. I'm not here for you. I'm not here for the ABB. I'm not even here for the Merchants. So long as you leave me and her alone, I'll leave you and yours alone." She leaned forward so that only he would hear, and hoped that he didn't catch the quaver in her voice. "And Kaiser doesn't have to hear that you've annoyed me." This has gotta be the second stupidest thing I've ever done. She offered a sugary sweet smile that she didn't mean. "Understood?"

Stupidest being the fire extinguisher?

Yeah. She could feel her heart pounding as she waited for the skinhead to react. Her fingertips were twitching, other muscles tensing oddly, out of her control. Is that you?

Yeah. His 'voice' was tense. If he swings a punch at you, I'll get skin contact and you can do the rest.

It wasn't a solution she liked but it was a solution. However, she liked hers better. Unless he's a total idiot, he's gonna cave. Kaiser doesn't stand for this shit and he knows it.

Good point.

The Empire guy's eyes opened wide for just a second; Amy figured she knew exactly what was going through his head. Then he re-established his habitual glower. "You just stay out of our way, then," he grunted, and turned to stomp back toward his table.

Amy watched him go, then let herself slide back into her seat. The tension started bleeding out of her muscles. Despite her still-pounding heart, she forced a smile on to her face for Taylor. "See? Told you I had this."

"And what if you hadn't?" Taylor didn't seem thrilled about it. "Those guys are dangerous. They carry knives. I'm pretty sure the top guys, like the one who just came over, have guns."

Which your power can't really protect against. Like, at all.

"They weren't going to make a move against me," Amy insisted. "If they'd done anything more than talk and Kaiser heard about it, he'd have their guts for bungee cords and they knew it. They just wanted to know what I was here for." She paused, thinking about it. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but I got the distinct impression that the only reason that guy even came over is because he thought I was here to hit the Empire. Which is totally fucking ridiculous. I am not a front-line cape." She flicked a glance at the table with the skinheads. They were laughing and joking among themselves again. So far, so good.

"Unless he heard someone spreading the word that that's what's going on," Taylor said slowly. "And I can think of three suspects, right now."

Amy's eyes widened. It didn't just sound possible; it sounded plausible. Except that … "They'd have to know they'd be putting me in danger, and you with me, by spreading that story." She rubbed her fingertips over her forehead. "Would they really go that far?"

"More like, they'd expect you to just leave once you were confronted," Taylor pointed out. "But hey, they've been getting away with shit like you wouldn't believe for more than a year. What's one more drop in the bucket?"

Amy grimaced. "Well, all I can say is, I can't wait for the meeting to start."

"Me neither," Taylor agreed. Amy appreciated the sympathetic look the taller girl gave her. "And I want to say thanks again for putting up with this shit for me. It means more than I can say."

This time, Amy's smile was genuine. "That's okay. I'm guessing that you had something in store for if that guy had actually attacked me?"

Taylor nodded seriously. "About three dozen wasps and hornets. He wouldn't have known what hit him."

"Aww, that's so sweet." Amy chuckled quietly. "I've never had anyone threaten to sic bugs on someone for me." It would've outed her for sure, but she still would've done it to save me.

Yeah, total villain material, hey?

Shush, you.

Taylor grinned back at her. "Hey, I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress."

Amy found the imagery intensely amusing, and broke down into giggles. A moment later, Taylor joined her. The release of tension was good, and they both started eating again. However, Amy couldn't help worrying all the same.

I wish Vicky was here. They wouldn't even think of bothering us then.

Hm. I dunno. Might be a good thing that Collateral Damage Barbie's no longer on site.

Yeah – wait, what did you call her?

His mental voice held a grin. You heard me. Tell me I'm wrong.

She barely avoided shaking her head. Oh, god. How did you even come up with that one?

Oh, it's a nickname that some of us use for her where I come from.

Wait, what? Amy stared at nothing, shaken to her core. There's more of you?

Um, yeah. He paused, almost evasively. There's dozens, I guess. Hundreds. Billions, if you count the ones who don't do what I do.

I don't even … She paused, trying to comprehend the situation. And they can all just poke their noses into our world and pop up in our heads?

For a long moment, he didn't answer. It's really hard to explain. The best answer for your question is 'yes, but no'. Remember what I said about how telling you too much would screw with your worldview? This is part of what I can't tell you about.

Had his 'voice' been light-hearted and joking, as it sometimes was, she might have pushed the issue. However, this time, his tone was serious enough to make her think twice.

Okay, I guess I can respect that. But really? A bunch of people who know about Vicky and me, and who else?

Well, basically everyone on Earth Bet worth paying attention to, I guess. The information isn't comprehensive or all-encompassing, but I did pick up some more during my last time here.

Sometime you're going to have to tell me what you mean by that.

Someday I might. Just not today.

Amy pursed her lips. Okay, that's fair. So their nickname for Vicky is what again? Collateral Damage Barbie?

It's one of the more flattering ones, yeah.

And me? Do they have nicknames for me? She braced herself for whatever he might say.

Nothing too bad, actually. 'Pan-Pan' is the most common one. Though there's a lot of back-and-forth about why you don't just, well, go all out. Some people think you're a bitch, some think you're basically sandbagging, and some think you could own the world in a week if you really tried. But those are kind of the radicals.

And you? What do you think? She didn't want to ask the question, but she couldn't not ask it, either. Nor did she want to think about the potential repercussions of her using her powers unchecked.

His reply came without hesitation. I think you're a nice kid who never had a chance for a normal life. You found your dad at five, lost him at six, got ignored till you triggered with powers, and you've been shat on from a great height ever since. It's not uncommon for powers to not actually fix problems, but yours actually managed to magnify the shit you were going through. While pretending to do the exact opposite.

For just a moment, she was stunned by his insight. She had never put it into words precisely like that before, but it was exactly how she felt, deep down. She did, however, feel the need to say something in her sister's defence.

It hasn't been totally terrible. Vicky's always been there for me.

True. And when she got her powers, she got her aura. And there went a large chunk of your free will. The worst part is, she still doesn't know she was doing it.

But if I tell her, she'll be totally horrified.

And if you don't, she'll just keep doing it. Oh; one other thing.

That sounded ominous. What?

She's terrified of being mentally controlled. I suspect that's why she got the aura when she triggered.

Oh. Oh, god. Amy could see all sorts of problems coming out of that.

Yeah. So if and when you talk to her about the aura, it might be an idea to be really careful about it.

"Earth Bet to Amy. Come in, Amy."

Amy started as Taylor interrupted her reverie. "Sorry, what?"

Taylor grinned across at her. Amy could see the glint of mischief in her eyes. "You've been really quiet, and I'm pretty sure it's not because you're loving the cafeteria food. What are you thinking?"

Amy paused to gather her thoughts. "Oh, uh, just talking, actually. To Security. Michael."

"Oh, right. The voice in your head. Still not sure what to think about that." Amy couldn't quite figure out Taylor's expression. "Did you ever find out where he came from?"

Amy hesitated, recalling Michael's words on the subject. "It's … kind of complicated."

Taylor's grin was infectious. "I'd be astonished if it wasn't. Anyway, you want to walk and talk before classes start again?"

Amy nodded. "I think I'd like that." And let us never speak of the mystery meat again.

I still say it was an alien life form.

But it showed no signs of life that I could detect.

By now, she knew he was joking. What part of 'alien' did we not understand?

<><>​

Bakuda

There were three of them in the jeep. Oni Lee sat on one of the rear seats, silent and unmoving. Some guy, whose sole reason for being there was that he had a driver's license, sat behind the wheel. Bakuda herself leaned back in the passenger seat, hard at work.

Carefully, she eased the bomb she'd been working on into the forty-millimetre grenade-launcher casing, then screwed it into place. Squinting with her left eye caused the goggles she was wearing to zoom in, allowing her to connect up the detonation mechanism just right.

"This is Number Seventy-Three, on the corner of West and Fairfield." The voice that came over the radio was high-pitched; either a young teenage boy or a woman. She didn't know or care who it was; all she gave a damn about was whether they did what they were told once she'd implanted their cortex bombs. Screw recruitment; I'll go with conscription any day.

Holding the grenade in one hand, she scooped up the radio mic from the dash in the other. "Bakuda. What've you got, Seventy-Three?"

"I can see her. The dog girl. Bitch. She's walking north along Fairfield with three dogs. She's not looking at me."

"If she knew you were reporting to me, her dogs would be all over you." Bakuda knew that her voice modulator wouldn't allow a scornful tone, but she tried for one anyway. "Bakuda to everyone in that area. Converge, but don't get too close. We don't want to tip her off." Clipping the mic back to its holder on the dash, she slapped the driver on the shoulder. "Get us moving, for fuck's sake."

"Y-yes, Bakuda!" he blurted, twisting the ignition key. The engine roared to life, the driver grinding gears in his haste to get moving. A moment later, they were off, homing in on Rachel Lindt, otherwise known as 'Bitch', of the Undersiders.

<><>​

Three Hours Ago

"The plan is simple," Bakuda had told her conscripts, enjoying the way they eyed her nervously. "You all spread out around the area where they've been seen the most. When one of you spots them, you call in the alert and follow them. The rest of us converge on that area. At best, you keep tabs on them. At worst, you engage them until I get there with Oni Lee. We'll end the fight. Any questions?"

There were none. It seemed that her 'no fucking moronic questions' policy was finally showing its worth. It had only taken two guys melted, one turned to glass, and a fourth blown into pink mist before the others decided that they could keep their questions to themselves. About fucking time.

<><>​

Now

A male voice came over the radio. "This is Fifty-One. I've got a view of her. She's turning west on to Colson."

Bakuda finished screwing the grenade together and handed it back over her shoulder. Oni Lee took it and carefully slotted it into the box that held the rest of them. The Tinker took the mic from the dash once more. "Follow her, don't lose her, but for fuck's sake don't alert her. Keep an eye on those damn dogs. If they start growing, assume she's seen you."

There was a map stashed in the centre console; pulling it out, she unfolded it part way, then looked up to check on the street sign. Stabbing a finger at the map, she shouted, "Down this way, then right on to Hawthorne!" Behind her gas mask, her grin was downright predatory. After I get Bitch, I get the Undersiders. Make an example of them, then bust Lung out. By the time I'm finished, nobody is gonna be messing with the ABB.

The jeep took the corner on to Hawthorne at a moderately unsafe speed; she grabbed for a handhold. Suspiciously, she glanced at the driver for any sign of amusement at her expense, but he was completely focused on the road. He knows I want to get there fast. Okay, fine, he gets to live for now.

"Lee!" she shouted over the roar of the engine. Turning her head, she saw the painted mask angle in her direction. He didn't answer, but the creepy bastard rarely spoke. "Just remember, we're capturing her, not killing her!"

Bakuda was not great at reading body language, so it was probably just her imagination that made her see disappointment in his posture. Still, it was important that he followed the plan, so she forged on. "We're capturing her alive so we can find out where the Undersiders have stashed the money from the bank job. That way, we can set up an ambush for them. Once we've got them all, then we can kill them. Got it?" She'd explained it all before, seven times, but the guy did tend to be a little forgetful when it came to orders about not killing people. Or maybe he just liked stabbing and blowing up people a little too much. Which she could totally understand.

After a long moment, Oni Lee nodded. Bakuda settled back in her seat, satisfied. I'll give him a couple of them to play cat and mouse with after all this is over. That Tattle-bitch can go to the farm. The rest I'll try out some new bombs on. I'm interested in seeing if that Vista bomb really does what I think it will, and how long someone can live after it goes off.

Picking up the mic again, she clicked the button. "Fifty-One, do you still have her in sight?"

The answer was a lazy drawl. "Sure, I've got her in sight. Fat and happy and stupid, still walking down Colson."

Bakuda frowned in mixed anger and confusion. I trained my people better than this. The way Fifty-One was talking bordered on insolence. Either that, or a death wish. They all knew she didn't just punish insolence; she made sure it never happened again. She grinned under the gas mask. Making an example of her minions was the fun part of the job. But they still had an Undersider to catch. "Seventy-Three, can you still see Bitch?"

"Yes, I can see Bitch." Seventy-Three's voice was calm and collected. "Still on Colson. Near Kingswood."

"Good. Stay on her. We're just coming up to … French. We'll use that to cut her off."

"Will do."

"Bakuda, this is Sixteen. I'm on Colson, near Kingswood. I can't see anyone at all."

Gritting her teeth, she brought the mic up to her mouth again. "Sixteen, rendezvous with Fifty-One or Seventy-Three. They'll be able to point her out."

"Uh … this is Twenty-Five. I'm, uh, on Colson, too. I think I can see Sixteen, but I can't see anyone with dogs."

"Wow, are you guys blind? Fifty-One, here. Bitch is right there. Three dogs. Are you sure you can't see her?"

Before Bakuda could muster another reply, the jeep hurtled around another corner. This time, she was braced for it. However, up ahead, there was someone who shouldn't have been there. A stocky auburn-haired girl, wearing camo pants, heavy boots, a flannel shirt tied around her waist, and a man's sleeveless undershirt. Bakuda knew exactly who she was. The dog girl, Bitch. Mounted on one enormously enlarged lizard-rhino-dog, with two others flanking her, running directly toward the oncoming jeep. Grue was mounted on one of the other dogs, trailing a cloud of blackness. On the third, Tattletale and Regent rode double. The former raised a radio to her mouth. "Seventy-Three here. Surprise."

Bakuda's mind, too stunned to properly encompass the situation, threw out fragments of thought.

What the fuck

She shouldn't be here

They lied

Then realisation sank in. It was a trap.

The driver immediately hit the brakes. Bakuda was already holding on, so she didn't face-plant the windshield. As the jeep rocked to a halt, she unsnapped her seat belt and pulled herself to a standing position, snatching up the grenade launcher. Bitch was about twenty yards away and closing fast. Bakuda raised the launcher to her shoulder and sighted in on the chest of the lead dog. Fuck it. All at once works for me.

As she was about to squeeze the trigger, the boy in the Ren Faire costume gestured. Her arm convulsed of its own accord, jerking the launcher around until it pointed straight down between her feet. Then it fired.

Fucking Masters.

Her last coherent thought was that she hadn't thought to put a minimum arming distance on her pain bombs.

<><>​

Tattletale

Random queries continued to spill out of the radio that Lisa still carried; Alec had since discarded his. They cautiously circled around the jeep, looking outward for signs of danger. There were only two people in the vehicle.

Lisa looked more closely. Bakuda and the driver were both twisted into almost impossible poses, with only minor twitching showing signs of life. She'd seen the blast go off, with all three caught in it. Oni Lee was now gone, leaving a pile of ash behind.

"Will he be back?" That was Grue. "And what was that?"

Lisa let her powers expand and take in the scene. "Pain bomb," she reported. "Causes intense agony throughout the central nervous system. He teleported away after the blast hit, but I doubt he'll be much good for anything else for a while."

"Right." Grue looked at Bakuda and the driver. Lisa could see that the latter's teeth were clenched in a rictus of suffering. "Well, shit. We've captured a supervillain. What do we do now?"


End of Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

 

[Starfox5]

Good chapter. Lots of build up at Winslow, mre revelations, and a fitting end (sort of) for Bakuda.

 

[Muroshi9]

Wow this version is going great. It's interesting to see all Taylor's gratitude being focused on Amy. It almost makes it look like they might build a relationship out of the rapidly building friendship they are making what with the way Taylor keeps bumping into her in a friendly way. Though I'm sure Taylor certainly isn't thinking in that way it could certainly turn into a fun relationship much like in some of my favorite stories like Legion. I'm sure Mike would be surprised if it went that way too.

 

[Asheram]

I'm just going to quote Nelson on this.

Ha ha!

 

[edale]

Well... Hope we see the meeting next chapter, though at the current pacing it'll be 2 chapters...

Wow this version is going great. It's interesting to see all Taylor's gratitude being focused on Amy. It almost makes it look like they might build a relationship out of the rapidly building friendship they are making what with the way Taylor keeps bumping into her in a friendly way. Though I'm sure Taylor certainly isn't thinking in that way it could certainly turn into a fun relationship much like in some of my favorite stories like Legion. I'm sure Mike would be surprised if it went that way too.

Click to shrink...

Panacea's a lesbian, and Taylor would latch onto just about anyone that showed her true affection and caring... Mike'd be stupid NOT to see it as a possibility.

 

[Psyckosama]

Panacea's a lesbian, and Taylor would latch onto just about anyone that showed her true affection and caring... Mike'd be stupid NOT to see it as a possibility.

Click to shrink...

No, Panacea's not. She's a Vickie-Sexual. She's been extremely fucked up due to her sister's aura basically overriding her actual prefrences to the point she frankly has no idea what the hell she wants

 

[edale]

No, Panacea's not. She's a Vickie-Sexual. She's been extremely fucked up due to her sister's aura basically overriding her actual prefrences to the point she frankly has no idea what the hell she wants

Click to shrink...

Fanon.

Amy is a lesbian. True the only case we see of her in love/lust is Vicky --and we know that that attraction formed because of Vicky's aura-- but at no point does Amy ever show any sexual interest in a male.

At this point the damage is done, puberty is (mostly) over; Amy will always be attracted to females on some level (Even if she later hooks up with a guy, she'll be bisexual at that point, not straight), arguing about what she would have been without the influence of Vicky's aura is pointless.

 

[Psyckosama]

Fanon.

Amy is a lesbian. True the only case we see of her in love is Vicky --and we know that that attraction formed because of Vicky's aura-- but at no point does Amy ever show any sexual interest in a male.

At this point the damage is done, Amy will always be attracted to females on some level (Even if she later hooks up with a guy, she'll be bisexual at that point, not straight), arguing about what she would have been without the influence of Vicky's aura is pointless.

Click to shrink...

You proclaim my statement is fanon.

Then you immediately go on to make my point for me.

Great job. Thank you for halping.