Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thursday, February 24th, 2011

Class didn't lasted the full morning. Around 10am, they gathered on the corridors all the students following a protocol involving an attack The Simurgh was unleashing in Canberra, Australia. Even with the massive distance between there and Brockton Bay, the protocols following a Simurgh attack were extensive and thoughtful, to be followed without questioning. No one could really predict what the Winged Endbringer was planning, so the only course of action was obeying.

We all lined up in the corridors outside our respective classes and waited for the teacher's signal to walk outside. Stopping the chemistry class was a blessing, let me tell you. For that I was pleased. My class was quiet, and we liked it that way. It got us the title of “Most well-behaved junior class Winslow High had ever had!”, what in reality did not mean much in the big picture considering the reputation of our students. Other classes were talking and laughing, happy for the early release, without stopping to think about the why’s.

In my front was Megan toying endlessly with her hair, and behind me was Lois checking her phone. They weren't in my friend group, so we had nothing to talk about. Cassie, my only friend in my class, was way up in the line, making it impossible to have a silent talk. Her dad took her phone as punishment for a bad grade in Math so talking that way was also out of the question.

As soon as the clock hit 10:30, the teachers came back and spoke in alternating turns: 

“Students, following the protocol you are going to be released. We’ll think about how to replace today's classes in the following weeks,” said Mr. Morrison, our chemistry teacher, “and by any means, you are advised to go to your homes.”

“Right, don't go about making trouble outside, you hear?” Mr. Gladly, another teacher, spoke. By his tone it probably was supposed to be a joke. No one laughed.

“Just get home safe, alright?” complemented Mr.Morrison to our class before guiding us.

After the students stepped outside, the lines broke and friend groups started forming. People wondering what they would do with the free morning, some thinking about their parents safety, some going straight home. Cassie waited for me to join her.

“Thinking about going home?” She asked me.

“Probably,” I replied, “Going to take the bus now since my house is so far.”

“Your mom really likes The Hill right? It's almost an obsession.”

“Yeah, it was her favorite spot to play as a child.”

Capitain’s Hill, one of the landmarks of Brockton Bay, was just outside my apartment window. It was a peaceful area, lots of greenery, but considerably far from anything interesting in this coastal city. Mom got us that apartment because looking at The Hill from her bedroom window fed her nostalgia, I suppose. For me, it was a route of daily pain and suffering in the trajectory across the city.

“Bummer. See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye, Cass”

I turned left and soon got to the bus stop. While waiting, I checked the bag for my keys to leave them in my pocket, a habit that formed when I started walking alone on the streets. Having the keys in my pocket meant opening the door faster, which in turn meant a faster arrival home. Walking with them on myself during school risked losing them, so during class they stayed safe in my bag.

No keys. Searched again. Nothing. Dammit. Must’ve left them on the table. Just my luck. The alternatives were to go to my mother's work and grab her keys or to wait on The Hill. Mom worked on a firm that was EVEN farther away from home than my school was. Ah yes, double the pain and suffering for traversing the city. Waiting by The Hill it was.

The bus arrived shortly and there I was, going to waste my day by crossing the city to wait on top of a pile of dirt and rocks, what a day. I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but she chose the literal worst place ever to live, and for that she will never be forgiven. She could have chosen literally EVERY OTHER PLACE for us, especially after getting the insurance policy on father's death. He died a.. A casualty from a fight between the PRT and the Empire, two years ago. The money we got from PRT lawyers was a LOT. Anyway, so, no exaggeration when I say we could be living literally anywhere in this goddam city.

Instead of drowning in the anguish, I choose to get seated and focus on sleeping until my destination arrived. 

Almost lost my stop, that's what I get for oversleeping. 

Looking at the clock on my phone indicated it was 12:43, and by the feeling on my belly, eating was required. To try and explain how I didn't felt hungry but knew I had to eat would be difficult. At times, the sensations I felt through my body were hard to decipher, sometimes even alien-like. A number of different psychiatrists visits later and no proper response. Some said I had some type of neuropathy and needed to see more specialized doctors for understanding the cause, others simply said I was autistic. With or without a reason, life kept going and so did I.

The path up the Capitain’s Hill was a smooth one, and up there would be a number of hot dog stands and what not, so hunger wasn't an issue. The weather was nice, at least, so I climbed without issue. 

I walked up to a hot dog cart and asked for a classic. While the man assembled my lunch, I stopped to look at my reflection on the mirror the guy had attached to the stand. My hair had seen worse days: straight hair, light brown, with the cut hitting my shoulders and a prototype of wispy bangs I cut on myself that were ok. Cassie finished them for me so it was “now acceptable to walk outside” according to her. A little high for my age. My face was an alright face, between ugly and model face I suppose, only my nose could be smaller. The makeup hiding my freckles was holding strong but what stood out the most were my lips, severely cracked. Forgetting to drink water was more common than forgetting to eat or go to the bathroom, so it was normal for me to look like the most dehydrated girl around town.

Paid the guy, took my food, and went my way searching for a quiet spot to eat. Even for the middle of the day, The Hill was substantially full of people. A lot of other students like me who were also discharged from school (and went to one closer to here, like Clarendon High), old people with their grandchildren and a few adults who had time to spare in being in a park during their lunch time. After walking a bit, I found a bench underneath a small tree with just the right amount of shadow to be comfortable. It was close to the edge of The Hill too, granting me a great view of the city.

Oh, Brockton Bay, the city you are. If you ignore the frighteningly high number of capes residing in the city, as well as the types of villain groups there were, it was a great city to live in. While eating, I observed the shape of the city, how it surrounded the bay. The beach was far from suitable for bathing given the sheer volume of possible unidentified substances and objects residing in the waters, but was nonetheless a great sight. The docks with its low buildings and repurposed old factories somehow created a charm involving its architecture, in a different way from the city center where the mighty PHQ building resided. 

As far as my life went, and even with the crusade needed to go to school, I liked living here.

Forgot to inform mom about the protocol thing. For some reason today seems like a distracted day. I got up and moved in the direction of the nearest trash can, and would message her while backing for the bench. I threw the paper wrap in and- Wait. There's a book in the trash. I lowered myself and stuck my arm in to pull the book out while trying not to get too dirty. The book was big, as in bigger than a bible big, and its cover was pitch black. I looked around and to my surprise no one was paying attention to the weird girl lifting a brick, no, three bricks of a book from the trash. I quickly hugged it and walked back to where I was sat. Luckily it wasn't so dirty, and my sweater was fine. The material of the cover was nothing I was familiar with in a book, and I’ve read a lot of books, enough for Cass to call me a nerd every other day. It was cold but soft, synthetic. Not as heavy as it looked. The material of the pages looked like paper but the texture was wrong, uncanny.

Curiosity overwhelmed me. I opened and started reading.

‘Class ended in five minutes and all I could think was, an hour is too long for lunch.

Since the start of the semester, I had been looking forward to the part of Mr. Gladly’s World Issues class where we’d start discussing capes.  Now that it had finally arrived, I couldn’t focus.  I fidgeted, my pen moving from hand to hand, tapping, or absently drawing some figure in the corner of the page to join the other doodles.  My eyes were restless too, darting from the clock above the door to Mr. Gladly-’

I dropped the book on my lap. Mr Gladly?? That was a teacher from Winslow. I had classes with the guy. My World Issues class was just last year! And Mr. Gladly has such a specific name, more of a nickname really, it would be impossible to be just coincidence. I gave a quick glance around, very few people close to where I was.

Following a deep breath, I lifted it up and kept reading.

Chapter Text

I can’t explain in a coherent way what happened, IS happening. 

Don’t know exactly. I’ve read so much, still reading. 

It’s almost blurry, but I can’t stop reading. How much time did I just- 

Spend here?

I manage to look up from the book from a moment, and the sun is setting. How much-

I drop it on the ground and the book closes. I’ve read so much. About Taylor. Skitter. From the dates and what was written, she hadn't debuted yet. Debuted? Do villains debut? I feel nauseous. I- I was in her head!

I reach to grab my phone. 17:52. A few messages from Cassie and mom, followed by a few missed calls, also from mom. I move to try and call back but my arm loses strength, dropping the phone.

The Undersiders. The Leviathan attack. The fucking Slaugherhouse 9?? It all sounded so crazy but somehow so credible. So REAL. And then, when that Grue guy triggered again, WHAT was that?? Those visions.. Those ENTITIES… Were- Were they real? What WAS REAL???

I tried standing but my legs also lost strength, making me drop to the side. Did, did I really drop? Is this real? Or the book is? What-

My phone rings again, muffleled. Now I can hear it. I force my arm to move, accepting the call. 

“LIAM WHERE ARE YOU??! I HAVE BEEN CALLIN FOR-” Oh, it’s mom. Hi mom.

“Im- Capitain’s Hill,” breathing became harder, my head was in so much pain, it scREAMED-,”NOT.., well.”

“-COMMING! WAI-” I couldn't make all her words, all started to spin. The call became more muffled again, sounding so.. Distant.

It couldn't be real. What was, is happening. Has it already happened? My sense of time feels so, so- I puked to the side, my lunch and a portion of today’s breakfast, bile? It smelled.. It smelled? Mom would come for me. I needed-

The book. 

She can’t read it. This, this thing is cursed. It has to be. It was in the trash,, it makes sense. 

Why on the trash here? WHAT is this book anyway?? She cant-

Combining forces I didn't even know I had- Have? I got up, took the book, and tossed it inside my bag, managing to close it again before collapsing and throwing up again.  Is this BLOOD in my, can’t-

I heard a voice. Trying to focus a little on my senses I see mom, turning me up. But I’m not seeing her. What I see is, is, is-

I’m not in The Hill anymore, I’m, somewhere. I hear a song. It isn't unpleasant, it, it’s just there. Oh, I know what's happening. Those, those giant beings, I KNOW what they are. They are dancing. They're so pretty, dancing together. Majestic? Celestial? For a moment, clarity hits me. I shouldn't know and, will I remember any? They move together in their celestial dance, uniting, expanding, phasing through one another. They joined in shapes and forms we don't have words to describe. I hear distant screams, but it won't really reach my ears. I have no ears here, no body, no- I see a third being. It’s different from the other two, this one is alone. Surprisingly, it likes being alone. It has always been alone and that is what there was to it for life. The Lonely One was smaller than the others. It passed through them, almost like a greeting. An exchange of nods, a handshake, a hug, a goodbye. Then, it turned and got back to following course alone. The encounter was no more. I was- I was?

Somehow I was again, on The Hill. Mother was by my sid- was she crying? I couldn't see properly with my eyes, but somehow I could SEE her. I could see what made her. Short and long lines collapsed together vaguely in the shape my mom had. The lines had words. I could read the words. I could READ her. Was she also not real, like me? A paramedic stopped by my side, asking questions I could not understand or see. But his words, I -

「Are you alright miss?」

“I- I dont-” my lungs have no energy, I couldn't speak properly.

「Can you hear me?」

I turned to mom. She had more words in her than the paramedic. They came and went with so much speed, somehow it was beautiful to watch. Who was real then, she or the medic? I wonder how my words would form now. Are they as pretty as mom’s? Are they real? A great pain filled my head. I was- What had I seen again? The memory, it-

“M-om..” I forced the word out.

「Yes, baby?」

“Lov- yo-” All disappeared in a black sea. 

With me, drifting away in the celestial waves.

Chapter Text

Hearing came back first. I could hear pieces of conversations, more voices than I could count. Mom talked a lot, her voice more recognizable. She talked with doctors, nurses. She talked alone too, crying mostly in those moments. I wanted to get up, hug her, and tell her it was alright. But it wasn't, really. This probably wasn't real, anyway. Just going to enjoy this extra sleep.

During all this time, while stuck inside my own head, lucidity would momentarily strike. I had time to think. If, what I’ve read was real, and for all the factors I could account for it probably was, then we are fucked. Brockton Bay is fucked and everyoen in it as well. Great! Awesome.

Focus. Who was responsible? Taylor? Thinking about her, it was weird. I’d basically been inside her head. Her, future head? Saw how she thought, her memories. Her trigger. Was she to be held accountable for my trigger? Questions formed. From what I could gather from all that information, her first night out would be April, which gave me two months and what not to work with here. But then again, did I HAD to do something about her? Most of what she did turned out alright-y, kinda. Maybe. The circumstances weren't the best.

FOCUS! Responsibilities. Think about those. IF, and a strong IF, this information is true, Amy Dallon- Panacea. She fucked up hard. A lot. What was that again? Oh, the incest crush. Yeah, yeah. Starting from there would be best. Need to prevent her breakdown. If I let Taylor be she’ll be mostly fine until The Nine arrive in June? June. Four months. GREAT! There’s barely any time to do anything. If I let Panacea be…

I’ll have to work really fast. When was the first moment Panacea began to crash? Think, think. OH! The bank robbery. Four days after Taylor's first cape night. I had to prevent Lisa- Tattletale from opening her mouth. Not entirely, but just on that specific moment. It’ll probably get me a few more days to work on Amy- Panacea.

It’s hard to think about them as real people. They’re characters, they’re from the book. Did reading it bring them to reality? Or was I brought to theirs? I know these people now better than I know most of my class. Their thoughts, their actions. Their sins. What were sins in this cape world, anyway? Except maybe, the brain fuckery thing Panacea did- does- will do to Glory Girl. WON’T DO. I’ll not let her. Both are too important to lose in the grand scheme. Priorities: stabilizing Panacea, saving Glory Girl in the process. Assisting the Undersiders, maybe? Could I use them? Complexities.

A realization came over me. I was a cape now too, right? The way I looked at mom, before collapsing, my vision was different. I remember her lines positioned and interconnected in beautiful prose. A part of me longed to see her words again. She had a lot of compassion and love in her sentences in a comforting way. Was it because she was my mother? Was it-

A different voice is in the room. It’s talking to the doctors and my mom. A girl? Sounds like a girl. 

“...then I-I found her, on the ground. She…” Mom’s voice. 

Muffled voices, the ones from the staff were harder to make sense. 

“...n’t know. Generally, I get the patient's consent to examine them. If she’s in a comatose state, I must reiterate that I can’t do brai-” The girl's voice. She sounded tired. Sweet and melancholic.

They are talking about my collapse. Need the girl to check on me to see my state, is she a doctor too? She said that she doesn’t do brains.. BRAINS? PANACEA? 

I quickly sit up and opened my eyes. My vision still somewhat blurry, like I’m in need of really thick glasses to see, but I can somehow get the people around me by following their shapes. Panacea. A big white shape, with accents of red around her and brown where her hair probably was. I had forgotten that she did this, the hospital visits. She was closer by the door. The doctors stopped mostly in the middle of the room, all looking at me. Mom, as soon as I got up, came running to hug me, failing to force herself to hold back the tears. 

“My child, finally, how a「re you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere? What happened?」” Mom spoke so fast it was almost impossible to process her voice properly, but by reading her words I could get a complement for what she was saying.

Opening my mouth to speak, I noted I wasn't breathing. I took a deep breath in.

“Im fine,” My lungs still burned. “It’s fine”

“NO it's NOT,” Retorted mom. “You slept for almost an entire month!”

“WHAT?” I screamed, surprising everyone in the room. Fuck, if I’ve slept that much then its all lost time. I'm losing time in this instant, rotting away in- Wait. Panacea was here, wasn't she? Maybe I could.. Hum.. I turned to the cape and uttered: “What are you doing here? You’re a cape, right?

“She’s-” mom started, but was interrupted by the healer.

“Yes, I’m Panacea. I’m here to first inspect your condition. Since you were in a coma, the orientations say for me to wait at most a month in case you would wake up naturally. If not, forced analysis,” She came closer and took my hand.

Before she could speak again, using my, power? I focused on her words. The words that Panacea was made of. I could read a jumble of emotions, thoughts piled one over the other in an unorganized mess. A lot of her was crude black and white, and by the looks of it the black was slowing but surely overtaking the white. In the middle of that chaos, I could see the phrase that encapsulated her downfall. Her love for her sister.

“For starters,” Announced her, with a pause to retake my attention. “You’re in great distress. Your biological chemistry is all over the place. That you can work on with a doctor, maybe a psychiatrist. Physically, your lungs faced severe muscle strain, and for some reason your retina suffered a serious macular degeneration. Even with me this close, you can’t see properly, correct?”

I nodded. So that’s why my vision has gone so bad. Was this the cause of my trigger? Of the use of my power? Thinking about it, I couldn't turn it off. Since The Hill, the words. They don’t stop. They hadn't stopped. I- I’m going to be like this forever??

“...Liam?” Panacea spoke, snapping her fingers in front of me. “I won't ask what happened, but do I have permission to heal you?”

I nodded again and muttered, “Yes, you do.”

It was surprisingly fast how the burning of my lungs was minimized, until a point where it simply vanished. Then, slowly, my vision started coming back. The features in Panacea's face became recognizable, from pictures I’d seen of her online and in magazines. Her face looked tired, heavy dark circles under her eyes didn't hide that either. She also had freckles, like me. Soon, the whole room was visible, with a definition I didn't know I missed. The words in the walls, the furniture, they were almost non-existent, except for a simple explanation of what they encapsulated. It made sense. At the end of the day, a chair can only be a chair.

As soon as Panacea was finished, she flinched and looked at me. “Your Coron-”

She felt it. My Corona Pollentia active. My power. I couldn't give her the chance to say it out loud, I needed to keep it a secret, so without hesitation I grabbed her hand more firmly and pulled her closer to me, getting us face to face. If we had a relationship, for the outsider it would appear we were about to kiss.

“You say anything about that,” I whispered, in a tone and words so low for her and her alone. “「I’ll kill you. Got it?」”

She nodded, and by looking inside her, her words complemented the affirmation. She didn't know what my power did, so I could bluff my way out of this situation for now. I let go of her hand and she straightened up her posture, looking at me now with surprise and a little bit of fear.

“Is everything good?”

“Yes mom,” I responded. “I was just thanking Panacea here for fixing me. Thanks again, Panacea. I hope you have a good day.

“Y-yeah, you too” She looked a little disturbed now. Did I scare her that much?

After having a final word with the doctors, she left the room. Mom was saying something about contacting Cassie’s dad to bring her later, but all my thoughts were now on how I’d already messed up by threatening one of the only people I desperately wanted to save.

Chapter Text

After the visit Panacea paid me, the doctors decided that I would stay in the hospital for another week at least to guarantee I was stable, since no one could determine the true cause of my collapse. During those days my time alone was mostly experimenting with my powers, to understand what the words that I saw were.

For my power to make sense in my head, I had to view my world, this world as a story. A fake reality created by reading the book for example. This made understanding the lines inside people better. When using my power with more precision in a specific person or object, I was able to see the pages that contained the words. There was a range of about half a mile, and whoever and whatever was within that range had words. For turning pages, I had to be really close, about 10 feet or I’d be unable to do it. And even with half a mile for my normal word range, the far away someone was the most fogged the words became. 

There was no turning it off, but if I didn’t pay attention to the words they would eventually become transparent, not straining my eyes much that way. My trigger was one hundred percent the cause for the macular degeneration my eyes had suffered. Part of me feared it would eventually happen again, so a lot of moderation in reading people was required. 

The people I experimented the most were mom and Cassie. Mom, as I had already seen, had a very organized and beautiful arrangement of phrases, and her pages were no different. In life she was a very organized and systematic person, and it translated to her page organization, sectorized by priority and impórtance. Cassie, on the other hand, was more chaotic. Chaotic in a different way than Panacea was, but still a mess. She, for once, had no pages at all, and her words jumped around and danced non-stop. Considering Cassie’s restless personality it also made sense. Her words made me think she had ADHD, but since she didn't knew or had even thought about it, it wasn't explicitly written inside her, more of an interpretation I made than anything. 

Doctors and nurses in general had much of the same: a lot of personal information and medical knowledge. I wasn't prepared for or alerted by my power in any way to how much of them were perverts. Words that were more on the surface of someone showed more recent thoughts the person had or actions they were doing, were about to do, or had done, which in turn explained how my power helped me understand what someone said even without properly hearing them. And a lot of weird kinky sex shit apparently happened in that hospital.

I was effectively released on March 27th, a little bit more than a month after I triggered. Tomorrow was Monday, my first day of class in a while, and the biggest concentration of people that would be around me at a given time with line of sight available. Perfect for more experimentation.

Monday, March 28th

Mom was driving me to school today. She would get to work late, but according to her it didn't matter. She wasn't lying, I could confirm by reading her on the way, which made me feel a little better about the thing. I know I said the thing about using my power in moderation, but as soon as I got discharged, I’d been using it in a lot of small situations to get the upperhand in interactions. This led to a few interesting plays on my part, mainly helping mom bartering discounts on the hospital parking lot and convincing Cassie’s dad to return her the phone using the words he wanted to listen. It may look small, but I was manipulating people. For the applications of my power, the PRT power classifications probably would put me as a Thinker. In a sense, powerwise, I had a lot in common with Tattletale.

During my observation week, the Undersiders did the heist on the Ruby Dreams casino, following what I’d remember from reading the book. There were still three weeks until the bank robbery, so I had a little time for planning. Until now my plan was to just be on the bank that day, let Skitter take me as a hostage, and hopefully intervene before the damage is done. I didn't have any idea about my cape name yet. It wasn't a worry. Another concerning thing I’d discovered while testing the limits of my power was that I HAD NO WORDS. Looking at myself in a mirror amounted to nothing. Looking at my hands, also nothing. That aspect was extremely frustrating. The more I thought about it, the more I started again the loop of questioning reality, so that was out of the question for now. Trying not to think about reality was hard. Every thinking instant I need a distraction to pull me away fr-

About the book, I’d hidden it under my bed. I know, I know it sounds ridiculous, but stay with me here. My bed is heavy as fuck and the only way do get under it is lifting the damn thing. My power didn't gifted me any type of super strength or shit, so for any normal person, mom included, it was secure.

Arriving in Winslow had mom turning off the car and looking at me. She was quiet, but reading her showed how thoughtful she was about my well-being.

“Hey, mom. It's gonna be fiiine.”

“Liam Latymer.” She said with a firmer tone.

“Y-yes?”

“If anything happens today just call me, ok?” You’re worried, I know. I fear too. My Mind.

“Yes, Mrs. Arden Latymer ma’am,” I responded, making a salute and toning my words like a soldier. “If anything happens you'll be notified immediately.

“Good to know! Jokes aside, I can see Cassie’s waiting for you on the school gates”

“Yes, yes, I’m going. Bye mom.”

Mom kissed my forehead as a goodbye and I dropped out of the car. As I was walking to Cassie, a girl walked quickly past me, and just by looking at her I knew who it was. Taylor Hebert. Skitter. Oh, not Skitter yet for a few weeks. Her words were… Interesting. Organized lines with exceptionally grammatically correct writing on them, with occasional slips on weak points in her mind, lines about her mom or the bullying. I hope to one day be able to read her pages more carefully, since simply looking at her there was a feeling of, of, something real?. A moment of distraction was already enough for her to be gone from my sight.

“And the Sleeping Beauty finally arrives!” Exclaimed Cassie as I got to her. She was wearing a long white jacket with black jeans, in contrast with my brown cardigan, white shirt and dark green pants. 

“DON’T compare me to that weak film from Aleph, Cass,” I retorted. “Curled Up has a much better premise and is miles better, should have opened with that one.”

“Right, right. Lets get to class before you start infodumping again, I want to try and keep my phone this time, ok?”

And so, we went to class.

As Cassie and I got to the caffeteria for lunch, I saw Taylor again, running to eat her lunch hidden it seemed. Giving a quick glance on her words showed that during class Emma had already harassed Taylor quite a lot, so her speed to get out of sight was understandable. Emma, Sophia and Madison were seated on a table close to the entrance, and all laughed together as Taylor rushed out of there.

I had a strange feeling, looking at all this people- characters- 

I chose for us a spot where I could watch the trio, and all my lunch was spent analyzing and reading the three. Emma, with her forced superiority complex as means of showing strength; Sophia, the little psycho that was Shadow Stalker; and Madison, who for the looks of it was with them due to the lack of other options, which was weird. They finished lunch fast, and reading their words indicated they would be trying to find Taylor to mess with her more. That struck a chord within me, as I, for all that mattered, had been inside Taylor’s head and saw first hand how the abuse affected her mental state. 

Those three, their roles were bad. They were obstacles in Taylor's life, practically demons hunting her for sport daily. I couldn't just- Something compelled me, I got up, gave my dessert to Cassie who didn't complain, and moved to follow them. The read on Taylor before showed me she was hoping to eat alone in the art’s room, but the trio predicted that and went straight after her. I tailored, not far behind. Approaching the class, I could listen to Emma starting the torture:

“So, hiding in the art’s room now? That’s a new one!”

“Soooo nerdy! What are you trying to do, draw yourself a new face?” Poked Madison. “We can help you with that.”

They all laughed again, and by the sound of the room someone was searching for something in paint cans. I had to intervene before something happened. I went and busted through the door, getting a view of the formation: Emma and Madison in front of Taylor in the middle of class, and Sophie on the right corner of the room grabbing paint, probably to throw at the girl.

“Hey, Taylor, I was looking for you. Mr. Gladly asked me to bring you in for a talk about your next work about capes in the World Issues class.” 

I had never taken any theater classes so I hoped the improvisation worked. Emma and Madison looked at me. Sophie dropped the cans and questioned me back, “And who the fuck are you again?”

“Liam, I'm a junior. Pleasure to meet you too,” I said, with the fakest smile my mouth ever produced.” Now, if you excuse us, Taylor, come here.”

She was about to get up from her chair when Emma intervened. “Sorry to interrupt Liam, but Hebert here was going to help us finish our next art assignment and if we don’t do it now there will be no time. I’m sure Mr.Gladly understands.” She had such a vulpine smile, but cutesy enough to bewitch the average student or teacher in the school. Not today.

“Funny you said that! I'm not simply asking,” My fake smile dropped on my face and my expression got serious. “「Shut up you three and don’t move.」” As those words left my mouth, the trio all closed their mouths with a confused expression, but stayed shut. “C’mon Taylor, let’s go”.

Taylor nodded, quietly got up her chair and walked in my direction, passing shrunk between Emma and Madison who just looked at each other. In the back of the class I saw Sophia slowly starting to move with a furious expression. I grabbed Taylor, closed the room door, and started walking her towards the school fire exit.

While walking side by side in silence, my mind finished processing what just happened. I had commanded them, projecting my words as actions that couldn't be opposed to, at least for a moment. Was this something I could always do, or was it because it was the trio, characters I understood and had a considerable knowledge about from my cursed information? In none of my talks with mom or Cassie this commanding had occurred, accidental or not. Apparently my power was hiding more than just reading other people’s words. 

As we passed Mr.Gladly room, Taylor looked at me without much expression in her face, but her words told me she was starting to get anxious.

“I’m taking you to the fire exit,” I responded to a question she thought about asking.

“Uhh, thanks?” She replied.

“You had enough for today,” I said as we arrived by the exit. “Go home, Taylor. I’ll cover for you talking to your next class professor. That is?”

“Chemestry”

“Oh, Mr. Morrison loves me. I’ll be fiiine.” I opened the door for her “If you take too long to leave he’ll catch you through the window view. Now, go.” I gave her a little push and waved as she got away. Before turning the block, she looked back, and gave me a small wave back before disappearing beyond the turn.

Now, things were starting to head in a better direction. I'd just planted a small seed of trust in Taylor that I'd wait to harvest in a few weeks, during a certain bank robbery.

Chapter Text

I didn't have time to close the exit door, as someone pulled me by my cardigan and shoved me against the lockers. My body slammed against the metal doors and as I fell to the ground, my head started to throb. Without giving me time to recover, the person got a hold of my hair and twisted my face up.

Sophia, Shadow Stalker, was looking at me intensely, with so much anger it looked like she was about to explode. By giving a quick glance at her words, I saw she had just lifted her shadow form. Used it to track me down faster after we left the arts classroom it seems. I’m sure that it is illegal for a Ward to use their powers like this, but I can’t imply that I know her cape identity. I tried breaking free, pushing her away, but she was considerably stronger than I was. Again, I'm sulking that my power hasn't improved my strength. I opened my mouth to speak but she quickly slapped me.

“YOU FREAK, WHAT THE FUCK YOU DID TO ME?” She screamed.

I looked at her. This situation felt like a trap, an ambush. A test, in another way. I say the wrong thing here and I’m outed by being a cape. Looking at her words again shows me that It doesn’t matter what I say, she’ll use it to fuel her theory that I mastered her, which is crazy. I mean, I did, maybe, forced the trio of bullies to shut up but that doesn’t mean I’m a Master like Regent or Heartbreaker, a fucked up people controller. 

Since she’s stronger, and I don't want to fuel her more with any type of unwanted suggestions, my alternatives resorted to talking. The only option for now was to feign ignorance to all her accusations and pray that she screamed high enough for someone to listen and intervene. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“BULLSHIT” She pushed me up and against the lockers again, getting mt up and holding the position. “I’VE GOT ENOUGH TRAINING TO KNOW WHEN SOMEONE IS TRYING TO FUCK WITH ME.  SPILL IT”

One of her hands was holding my right shoulder and her other arm was pressuring my chest, making it harder to breathe. “I-its the truth. I didn’t d-” Before letting me finish, she spun, throwing me against the ground. 

“Don’t. Move. And keep quiet,” she whispered, turning to face the corridor, “I’m making a call, and it’s better for you to stay put.”

Shit, she was going to call the PRT and it felt like no one was coming. Think, Liam. How do you destabilize her? Fastest route.

“HELP!” It was now my turn to scream, the words making my lungs hurt, “THERE’S A STUDENT ASSAULTING ME!”

“You little shit!” She turned back.

“What, I’m not letting you antagonize me over nothing! What did I do to get you this fired up? Interrupted your bullying session?”

“Used your freak power to control me, you weirdo.”

“WHAT? You’re saying I’m a CAPE?” I chuckled. Just like in the hospital, I had to pretend to save my life, “You’re nuts. I have years of theater experience, and that was called stage presence, thank you very much.

"That means nothing, you CONTROLLED ME." She retorted.

"It’s not my problem you're that dense.” I quickly replied.

She began moving to hit me again, but beyond the corridors the sound of steps approaching made her stop and reconsider. After giving it a thought, instead of coming for me, she went for the fire exit and left, closing the door.

After a moment, the footsteps stopped before even reaching here. Whoever it was wasn't coming for me. I allowed my body to relax and laid on the floor. Sophia applied too much force on my chest and it felt tiring to breathe. A lot had just happened in too little time. Compartmentalize. I helped Taylor with the bullying. In turn, this may bear fruit for the bank robbery I’m going to step in. That got my count positive. And in doing that, I made Shadow Stalker pissed and got put on her radar for being a potential cape. And a Master nonetheless. That for sure lowered my points. 

Bothering me more than anything was how my power had behaved. I had no idea why that happened now. That commanding, suggestion, whatever it was. In none of my experiments in the hospital with mom or Cassie or any of the staff, something like that had happened. I have to be much more careful with what I say and to who. This complicated things. The Thinker side of my power relied on revealing information. And with a Master side of control.

This doesn't feel right.

While lost in my thoughts, something started poking me on the side. A woman from the cleaning staff was looking at me with concern. I smiled and she left, occasionally looking at me over her shoulder. Fatigue weighed on me.

I arrived late for class. The professor scolded me, but I didn't pay much attention. My mind was in another place. I had to think. Been doing that a lot and it never feels enough. If Shadow Stalker is going to be tagging me I need resources. Besides her crazy personality she still had the PRT behind her. Prove to them I was a cape and they’d come for me. 

I got my phone opened on Parahumans Online in search of any post about starting as a cape. To my surprise there were quite a few. Unfortunately, most of them ended up being useless speculation on ‘theoretically’ what you should do written by random people who knew nothing. From the few who were written taking it seriously, more than half probably came from a PRT operative orienting teens to joining the Wards Program or adults to join the Protectorate. And I don’t want to become a teen soldier, so no PRT for me. 

In the end, only two posts had useful intel. For Rogues or individual capes they talked about crafting a network of small jobs that could fuel your needs, considering what your power could do, like Tinkers selling tinkertech. Some capes did advertise products in the forums, so that could work. Then again, what could I sell?

Controlling people was out of the question. I don’t know how to do it on purpose and I don't really want to do it at all. And selling it as a product is a one-way ticket to the birdcage. It’s better if I hide that facet of my power as much as I can. That left me with selling the information I was able to see on other people's words. There’s also the knowledge of the book, but… Reading it and relying too much on its contents is dangerous and a gamble I’m not inclined to take for now. One reading session triggered me and put me in a coma, so out of the question.

Another thing the posts mentioned was coming up with a cape identity, or a cape persona. The process of choosing a name and crafting your costume. Since the costume is more complicated and I had no money for it, I focused on choosing a name. Something that is somewhat hard considering the sheer number of capes that are already known. Most of the simpler and more direct names already got chosen. New Wave for example had members with a variety of names ranging from simple to more theatrical.

I searched words related to sight or vision but most just sounded like worse synonyms that went adrift from the meaning I wanted or were already in use. Aside from simple I could also go the mythological route. Leviathan was named after a sea serpent demon, based on both being sea monsters, so mythological was on the table. 

A few names came up when I searched for “sight gods” and such, like Apollo, Heimdall and Theia. Apollo and Heimdall dealt more with prophecies and the future, and since I’m not a pregoc it’s a stretch. But Theia, Theia could work. She was the titan goddess of sight and vision and… Gold, silver and gems? Sure, that can work. I’ll add some jewelry to my costume for cohesion and that’s good. Thematic. 

I opened PHO configurations and changed my account name to 3ury.phaessa, a modified version of another name that belonged to the goddess Theia. Looking out the window revealed that the weather was closing in and rain was approaching. The teacher had just finished writing something on the board and was waiting for the class to take note. Making my post now wouldn't cost anything. After reading some other offers to see the proper procedures I made my move.

♦  Topic:  Information gathering

In:  Boards ► Jobs ► Offers

3ury.phaessa

Posted on  March 28th:

Currently in the area of Brockton Bay, I'm a cape who can get any information from anyone. If you need specific information about an individual in the city area, comment below. Payment is cash only and price is decided upon hearing the request.

Done. Now I’d wait for someone to respond.

The return home was uneventful, aside from the rain that slowed even more the traffic. My post on the forum got some traction and received some replies but most of them were trolls and people wanting to know if I could get someone credit card info, what I certainly could but wasn't inclined to do.

Getting home surprised me, as mom was already there and preparing dinner. There were pieces of pork in the oven, along with a variety of vegetables she was sautéing on a pan. Mom was inspired today.

“Hi, mom.”

“Oh, honey, hi!” She responded, turning down the heat on the stove and coming to hug me. “How was school today?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, except,” Except I’d intervened on Taylor’s bullying and controlled three people in the process. “I helped a girl that was having trouble with some other students.”

“That sounds awful.”

I had no response to that. If she even knew the things Taylor was subjected to. I broke from her hug and pointed to the vegetables in the pan, starting to burn. Mom quickly returned and turned it off. By her face of relief, they were salvageable.

“I'm going to stay in my room for a while, today was a tiring day” I announced.

“Ok, just don’t forget to come eat, alright?” Said mom, already plating dinner.

“Yeah, yeah,” I smiled, “The same goes for you, chef.”

I walked away from the kitchen’s door and crossed the apartment, arriving at my room and closing the door. My corner of the apartment was nothing special, simple furniture aside from the exponentially heavy bed. I dropped my bag on the floor and let my body fall upon the mattress. 

Is this going to be my life now? A very studied field was the fact that being a cape attracted all types of problems, and more importantly, conflict, but there was no explanation for why discovered yet. It could be just how society had adjusted to the new status quo, but that felt lacking as an answer. Today was only Shadow Stalker but she alone could spiral to a lot of others and that sounded exhausting.

I moved myself in bed, getting more comfortable and grabbing my phone to give another look at my post. Nothing significant there, but for a change someone had messaged me directly.

♦  Private Messages from Fissure:

Fissure: Can you gather information on the memories of someone with amnesia?

I looked at the message. From my experiments, it seemed possible since I’d looked at mom’s pages and found stuff that she didn’t even remembered when I asked. I hadn't seen someone with amnesia while testing my powers in the hospital, but there was a chance.

3ury.phaessa: i can, but that would require me to be close to the person in question

Fissure: Good. How much would that be?

How much did I need? Money to buy equipments, to make a costume. Even needed jewels. Then again, this was my first job.

3ury.phaessa: 100k, cash

Fissure: Deal. Are you available tomorrow morning? 

Well, that was easy. Who simply had 100 grand to just spend like that? No cape that I could remember in the book or from the news could have a nickname like Fissure. Of course they weren't using their cape name online, that would be idiotic. About the time, the sooner I got the money to advance in the other objectives the better, and none of tomorrow's classes are that important anyway.

3ury.phaessa: sure, that can be arranged

3ury.phaessa: location?

Fissure: The Palanquin nightclub, two streets over from Lord Street.

Fissure: I’ll be waiting by the entrance around 9.

Fissure: You better show up.

3ury.phaessa: you can count on it

Oh, I get it now. The Palanquin. Faultline. If it’s her, she wants me to look inside a case 53. Until now, no one really knows anything about their origins.

This was going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

Amy was tired. It was a Monday, like any other, and she was tired. After attending her classes as normal on Arcadia High, she had gone on a quick round around the hospitals of Brockton Bay healing whoever was in need, from the smallest flu to the biggest cancer diagnosis. The clock had just struck six o'clock in the evening, marking her stay at this hospital over. She got up from the chair and walked outside her service room towards the reception. At this point, all hospitals had a little room for her to tend the people in need. At least she got time alone between each person.

It has been some time since she last enjoyed healing someone, more than a year ago. During a day working in a particular hospital in Boston, a city close to Brockton Bay, her spark spontaneously went out, and the process that once was quite rewarding became a tedious chore. The start of her impending doom, the way herself viewed the experience. 

After that day, her eyes opened for a lot of the things around her. Little things that she didn’t know how to explain took shape, and suddenly, they became. The realization about her disdain of healing others, how her mother never truly loved her, and the dark nature of her feelings for her sister. The last one being the most detrimental to her mind.

As she got to the reception, her sister was there, waiting for her. She had an apologizing look on her eyes, which told Amy the day wasn't quite over yet.

“Up for one more today, Ames?” Questioned Victoria.

“As in one more hospital? Hell no,” Amy was, indeed, quite tired for the day. Sometimes she faked her feelings of fatigue to get out of healing duty early, but today wasn't one of those days. “One more person I may consider.”

“It’s the Wards. Dean called, both Clockblocker and Shadow Stalker were on patrol and got ambushed by an ABB gang. They held out until Oni Lee appeared. You probably know the rest already.” Victoria looked at her somewhat tenderly, and Amy knew it was her sister trying to convince her to help. In reality, it was not much for the Wards themselves, and more because Dean had asked. Disgusting.

“Grenades fragmented in the body, just great,” snorted Amy, adjusting her robes. “Tell me no one lost a limb and I’ll go. Not in the mood for reconstructing limbs.”

“Oh no, they’re, like, whole? How do you properly say that, is whole good?”

“Whole is good enough,” Smiled Amy. “Let's get going before it's too late.”

“Thank you, sis” Exclaimed Victoria, before preparing to pick Amy up for the flight. As Amy stood there, Victoria picked her up and took up for the skies.

One of her only pleasures was being carried this way by her sister. She couldn't hide anymore how the feelings of happiness overshadowed any possible fear of heights imaginable. Victoria flew at an alright speed, which in turn gave Amy the opportunity to look at the city’s buildings. They were nothing special, more of the same cheap architecture that got popularized in recent years. Cheap building techniques also worked well for a city with a high cape population, providing cheap repairs that made the city somewhat in shape most of the year.

Victoria took a turn, heading up to the PRT building. The construction was imposing in size, but Amy felt nothing from the architecture. It had windows covering all of the exterior, reflecting all the smaller buildings around. The giant P.R.T. letters fixed in the middle didn't helped much either

As they got closer to their destination, Amy hugged her sister more. Not for any reason other than selfishness, which filled her with shame at the same time. Victoria smelled good, had soft skin, and… If Amy allowed these thoughts to bloom now, she would have a problem. Instead, she soothed the hug a little and closed her eyes, focused on her activities from the day and recent memories to distract her. 

Today was quite uneventful until the sudden help request from the Wards. It wasn't unusual for them to need her help one day or another. Amy generally stayed outside the battlefields, a decision that saved her life on more occasions that she could count. As for last week, she had an encounter that wouldn't leave her mind, impossible to forget. The Girl.

Amy remembered well the name on the medical records: Liam Latymer. The girl who was in a coma and suddenly woke up upon hearing Amy’s voice. The girl who had her retina fried in a weird and inexplicable way. The girl who had threatened to kill her for noticing she was a cape. Amy felt conflicted about the experience, because as much as the girl seemed harmless, there was an inexplicable weight in those words. A weight that made Amy believe faithfully that she could and would die by the girl's hands, right there. A feeling of dread like nothing else.

“...Ames? You’re good?” Whispered Victoria.

“Yes, yes. I was just remembering a patient.”

“What was that about them you were thinking? Were they hot?” Questioned Victoria, in a joking tone.

“NO! Oh my god that’s gross!” Retorted Amy.

“Relax sis, I’m just poking at you.” Victoria laughed. Hearing her laughter made Amy laugh a little too. “But I have to warn you, things may get heated with the Wards today. I’ll wait close until you’re finished.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It's Shadow Stalker.”

“When it isn’t her?”

“Apparently she’s been screaming the entire day that some chick mastered her in school and no one is taking her seriously.” Vocalized her sister. “You didn't hear this from me, ok? But you will hear it from her for sure.”

Amy wondered. I couldn't be, right?

“Heal her first.” Said Clockblocker.

“Yes, do as the twink says.” Complemented Shadow Stalker.

“The WHAT?” Clockblocker got up from his chair and turned to face the other hero. “Repeat that.”

Clockblocker looked like the one in better condition from the pair. His costume was fully closed and had some more armored pads than Shadow Stalker’s, granting him more protection than her. She relied too much on her shadow form to bother with proper protection and in moments like these paid the price for that arrogance.

“Just,” sighed Shadow Stalker. Amy rolled her eyes up. “Go sit outside. I may have to undress.”

“Ok, ok. Just call me when it gets to my turn.”

As Clockblocker left the Wards infirmary, Amy turned to give a questioning look at Shadow Stalker. “You know you don’t need to undress for this, right?”

“Yes. I just wanted him outside. Has already stressed me during patrol calling me paranoid all day.” Another sigh.

“Do I have permission to heal you?” Asked Amy, trying to change the subject.

“Fuck yes, something got to my lungs”.

As Amy began accessing the girl's condition, she felt a lot of small fragments of metal in both of the girl's legs, her right arm and some in her right lung. A few cuts all over her body except her face, thanks to the thick modified rocky mask she was wearing. The mask got heavily damaged and probably would be replaced. As Amy pushed with her power and moved the metal scraps out of Shadow Stalker's body, the girl began to give in and relax. But her mind was still tense.

“Do you also think I’m crazy?”

That got Amy by surprise. “Uh, no?”

“Yeah, thanks, you got it. All the other Wards keep saying I’m thinking too much about it.”

“About what, exactly?” Amy didn’t want to extend this conversation any further, so asking about it was her way to try and finish it as fast as she could.

“Fuck!” Exclamated Shadow Stalker.” Just, just keep doing what you're doing. I’m just so pissed!” As Amy felt the chemicals in the girl’s body change, she certainly was pissed. “I was just minding my own business in class with my friends and this freak girl appears out of nowhere and just, masters us like it’s nothing! That’s fucked!”

“And what did she do?”

“She made us stop and keep quiet. But you don’t get it, I couldn't move or speak for as good as ten seconds. My friends were paralyzed for a little more, but they just thought it was some kind of shock or some shit. I know for a fact we got fucked with.”

Amy swallowed and looked directly at Shadow Stalker, who looked disturbed. She waited to see if there was more, and within the silence, Amy asked:

“Do you know the girl’s name, at least?”

“Yeah, some Liam whatever. She’s a junior but talked like she was the biggest bitch around. Fucking freak.”

Oh, this was bad, Amy thought. Hospital girl. Amy just couldn't let that slide. She already feigned ignorance about the girl's powers, but this? Using them in public and on civilians? It’s terrible.

As she finished Shadow Stalker, Amy made her decision. She was going to intervene.

Chapter Text

Morning, Tuesday, March 29th

I woke up with a slight headache. Truly, I can’t say I slept more than an hour consecutively. Every sound outside, no matter how small, had been enough to wake me up during the night, and the process of falling asleep again got harder each time. Looking at my clock revealed it was still 5 something, with birds starting to chip outside.

Truth is, I'm feeling very anxious. Yesterday I had agreed to meet with Faultline for a job I didn’t really know I could pull off, and the confrontation with Shadow Stalker made it all feel worse, somehow. She would probably keep tabs on me at school from now on and that made me nervous. One small slip and it was all down the drain. I admit that agreeing to do the job during the morning was a way to prevent seeing Sophia today, but it’s not like I’m running away completely. A calculated, tactical response. 

I got up and opened the curtains. The sun usually didn't shine through the window at this time, as my room’s window faced west. Mom’s room had better sunlight during the morning, and I envied that. Based on the amount of clouds in the sky, rain was approaching. 

To look outside after triggering my power was an experience. I glanced at the trees and could see words written on them. Its properties, age, how healthy it was. It was easy to get lost in all that information. So I forced myself to move close to the wardrobe and choose the clothes I was going to wear today. 

I picked a grey shirt with my black leather jacket, dark jeans, and hiking boots since they were the best for walking on soaked terrain. The only problem was that I had nothing to cover my face with, to use later on my appointment with Faultline. Since the Palanquin club was located close to Lord Street, I would stop by and buy a scarf or something at The Market. I could hear an echo in my head of all the times Cassie told me to buy a scarf and I refused coming back to haunt me.

I picked up my backpack and checked out my bed one last time before leaving, confirming my secret was hidden well. It was already weird that I could see the book under my bed just by looking. Sometimes it gave the impression that it was calling for me to finish it, and read the pages I left behind. 

Not today, book. 

Leaving my room I began smelling the scent of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen and a faint static noise. I dropped my bag by the wall and went inside. Mom was frying some eggs while listening to the radio, still wearing sleepwear. As I approached, she turned to me and gave a warm, yet tired smile. 

“Morning, honey,” said mom, just before yawning. Mornings always started a little slowly for her. “Slept well?”

“Not so much.” I responded. There’s no need to go further into my causes of insomnia.

“I see you are already dressed. Something happening today that made you eager?” She commented, after giving my fit a look.

“Yeah, it’s…” I couldn’t tell her what I was up to, for obvious reasons. The moment she knew I was a cape she would freak out. “There’s a big test today. Don’t worry, I have studied enough, I think.”

“I get it, I was the same back then,” she yawned again while turning the stove off. “Just make sure to do your best. About school, I'll drive you again today.”

“You don’t need to mom,” That would hinder me more than help. The plan was to go by bus directly to the Boardwalk area to wait and then go to the club. “I’ll just go by bus and-”

“Liam, I just heard on the radio about a gang that attacked the Wards yesterday. If even the Wards aren’t walking safely out there, it’s bad.” Mom was serious. It’s been some time since I’ve seen her this serious. “I care about you, and know that you’re not a child anymore. But, the city we live in…” She trailed off.

Mom moved the eggs to a plate and handed them to me. I stared at her in silence before moving to sit at the table. There was already a cup of coffee waiting for me, which I took a sip of. Just the way I liked it, with milk and nothing else. The eggs were also tasty, seasoned with salt and pepper.

“Do you know if any of your classmates are in a gang?” asked mom.

“M-mom!” I replied, choking a little on coffee, “I don’t know, probably not?” In this case, could I count Shadow Stalker as being a gang member? She very much acted like one. I’d scanned most of the people in my class already; there was one or another creep, but fine in general.

“You told me yesterday that you helped a student. Are you sure it wasn't gang related?”

I chuckled, “Pretty sure it was just standard bullying, mom.”

She let out a deep sigh and turned to finish her coffee before coming to hug me and kiss me in the forehead.  This is something she did since I was a baby, her favorite way of showing affection. I hugged her back. Being more awake now and having her this close allowed me to see her words clearly. A mix of worries and assumptions, some confusion but a strong will to keep me safe.

I felt bad about this. It’s not like I’m lying to her, more like withholding the details. Thinking along these lines helped, but not by much.

“I’ll get dressed and then we can go.”

“Ok”, I muttered, feeling a little defeated.

The drive this morning was mundane, for the lack of a better word. To reside close to The Hill meant at least an hour stuck in the seat of a car or a bus on the way to school. My luck ended on the fact that my line was long enough to be the only ride needed to get there, but the path was still torturous.

Mom was mostly quiet, thinking to herself. Our morning chat was alright, but not exactly what she was expecting. She believed me about no classmate being in a gang and stuff, while letting part of her mind wander on the possibilities of something more serious happening. As I understood it, this apprehension came in correlation with Dad’s death, a can of worms I’m not interested in opening.

As she maneuvered to park close to the school, she narrowed her eyes before turning at me and asking in an unserious tone: “There’s a new girl talking to Cassie at the gates. Has she finally dumped you?”

“Hah, think again before speaking lies,” I claimed. “She’s my most loyal subject and would never betray me!” As soon as I finished my remark, I turned to see who was the worm who dared to talk with my best friend behind my back.

A girl with fizzy brown hair I’d never seen around before. Her back was turned to where Mom had parked. For all I could see, she wore a white hoodie with normal blue jeans, carrying a red bag. Maybe a transfer student? Cassie did great with transfers, they represented something new and exciting for her to tend to and drop a week later.

“I have no idea who that is, but will soon enough. Later, Mom” I said, as I got my umbrella and got out of the car. The rain was thin but present. Mom answered something I couldn’t hear properly and went off. 

Getting closer I saw the new girl’s words. Chaotic black and white. A mish mash of thoughts and misplaced phrases that encapsulated in- 

Amy Dallon.

WHY the fuck was Panacea here? She goes to Arcadia! There were no matches scheduled between any of the teams from both schools. No event, conference or anything close. I stopped. Is she here for me? Fuck me. Shadow Stalker just couldn't keep her mouth shut. Wonderful. 

No, it’s fine, I got this. I resumed walking in their direction. Panacea’s words show that she feels responsible for yesterday’s events, somehow. In a way, I could use that. Her perception of me was already that of a villain. Oh, how WONDERFUL.

As I approached, Cassie saw me and waved in a lively manner. That was the clue for Panacea to turn and also see me. Her expression was mostly serious, if not a little weary. Her dark heavy circles under her eyes were present, as always.

“Sup Liam," exclaimed Cassie. Her voice sounded almost electric, energetic. An interesting parallel to miss dark clouds that stood by her side. “Look who just showed up.” She gestured at Panacea.

“Good morning, Liam” Greeted Panacea, trying to sound as natural as she could.

“‘Morning, Cass. Panacea. Fancy seeing you here. How long has it been?" I asked. Need to buy myself a little bit of time to dig within Panacea to understand what she wanted, and to look inside someone and speak at the same time was still a trick not mastered.

“A few weeks, I think.”

“She’s here to arrange a talk led by New Wave in the schools around Brockton Bay. Isn’t that so cool?” Cassie, I know you’re naive, but you are better than this. “Asked me to show the place around.”

“Wow, that sounds nice!” Never had such empty words left my mouth before. They tasted bland. “A pity I won’t be of any help!”

“And why is that?” Asked Panacea, tiredly.

“I have a few appointments and won't be coming to class today. I just came here to ask you to cover for me Cass. Code five.” Me and Cassie got our own list of codes for when we needed each other's cooperation without speaking out loud. Code five meant something along the lines of ‘serious and no questions’.

“Oh, alright,” Cassie crossed both her index fingers over her mouth, forming an X shape and smiling. “I’ll work my magic. It’s a shame you wont be around tho.” She said, referring to helping Panacea.

“With that out of the way, I’m leaving, “I gave a look at my phone. It marked 7;43. A little more than an hour to traverse the rain in a bus to my destination, just enough, and with a few minutes to spare. “See you tomorrow Cass. Goodbye, Panacea.”

As soon as the last syllable left my mouth, I was turning to walk away. I didn't stop to listen to their goodbyes and just went straight to the closest bus stop, walking at a fast pace. Cassie would understand. Our friendship had been going on for years, strong enough that we were each other's best friends. I have covered for her more times than I could count.

Approaching the bus shelter was a blessing, with the rain starting to pour harder. My umbrella was big enough to hold well against the water, but failed in protecting me from the wind. And today was windy. Just as I got there, my ride arrived.

Panacea wanted to interrogate me. Pressure me to talk about what I had ‘done’.” I felt insulted. I'm not a villain, and don’t plan on being one. But having a power meant I needed to be a cape and face the consequences. And in her mind I was being a villain and mastering innocent people. Like, yes, Shadow Stalker, the most innocent maiden in town. I swallowed a dry chuckle. No need to sulk over it

While looking at her I also saw some projection she was doing on me about her own issues with her power and the uses it brought. She’s beginning to break, and is desperately trying to hold on.

The bus was almost leaving, when someone disrupted the process by knocking on the front door. Panacea got in quickly as the door opened, soaked head to toe, protected just a little thanks to her soggy hoodie. She gave a look around, found me, paid and walked in my direction. Not a lot of people inside, but the few present were all staring as she passed. Her clothes dripped rainwater everywhere.

As she got closer, she sat on the vacant seat behind mine. The one on my side was also empty, but this way I wouldn't get wet with her. How considerate of my pursuer. 

“You ran away.”

“No, I didn’t,” I hissed at her, not looking at my back. “I really have an appointment, nine o'clock, to be precise."

“If you give me your hand, I can see if you're lying,” She said. “I recommend you to coo-”

“You can’t,” I responded as I turned to look at her. Keeping my voice down was my attempt not to draw any more attention, contrary to her. “You can feel how my body reacts. The ‘little things’: breathing, muscle twitches, blood pressure, whatever hormones appear. But in the end it’s all an assumption on what is a lie and not. I’m not falling for that. You’d just go with the conclusion that fitted what you wanted to hear.”

She went silent for a moment before answering back: “I can read your brain waves, idiot. It’s the most accurate tell of all.”

“Still not giving my hand to a stalker.” I thought of Shadow Stalker. ”One in my ass is already enough.”

“...stalker. So it was really you who mastered Shadow Stalker!” she exclaimed. If any of the arguments before did not draw all the attention to us yet this right here did. 

“Can you be any louder, please?” I snapped, being sarcastic. “Miss Violence left out some very important parts of the story. Can you guess?”

The bus hit a bump, urging me to look outside. A few more stops before we hit The Market.

“That you mastered her and two civilians? What the fuck is wrong with you? And how did you know it was her?” Her tone was angry. Her expression, slowly giving in to that anger, showing her brow wrinkling.

“They were bullying another girl! Hard bullying I might add. That goes on and what, another teen triggers?” Taylor had already triggered, but that trigger was still the result of the bullying campaign, so I wasn't that far off. “Should I just walk by? Besides, it was an accident. Not something I can control.” 

Panacea went silent again. She was recalculating the approach given the information I’ve provided her. Her body was tense, some because of the conversation and more because she was wet everywhere. Her power prevented her from becoming sick, but being drenched looked like too much discomfort, even for her.

She leaned her hand closer and asked again: “Can I check if it’s true?”

“Not getting away from this, am I?” I grunted, lifting my hand against hers and voicing, “I have an appointment at nine o'clock that I can't miss and you're interfering.” Seeing that it wasn’t all that she wanted, I complemented. “Yesterday I used my power to help a girl who was being bullied by Shadow Stalker and two others unintentionally. Satisfied?” Withdrawing my hand I looked her deep in the eyes. Her words spoke to me, 「Couldn't have called a teacher? Mastering people like that is crossing a line, a villain thing-」.

“Cou-”

“No,” I interrupted her. “The teachers there are dumber than a door and extremely manipulable. Try again. Actually, don’t. That's my stop arriving.” Responding to her thoughts got her good. She dropped open her mouth. 「What is this, is she reading my mind?」It’s much worse than that, girl. I got up. “Again, goodbye, Panacea.”

She stood at the same speed I did, following me to the exit. “Hey, I’m not finished with you!”

“Fuck off!” was all I felt like saying.

We both dropped at the stop. I opened my umbrella at the same time she popped the hood. I looked at the wet mess the girl was presenting herself. At least she dumped her bag back at Winslow.

“What do you want?” I said, almost screaming.

“To see I didn’t make a mistake letting you go.” was her response. “And to get the truth.”

Panacea has been a pain in my ass since day one. All regarding the girl smells of a problem. All she does is give me headaches. 

Making an effort to not let myself be controlled by my emotions, I pondered.

“Actually, today’s appointment might answer all your questions.” I smiled.

Chapter Text

“Explain.” Demanded Panacea.

“Look, can we talk elsewhere that is not raining?” I pointed to The Market. Her tagging along hinders me, but I’m not letting that stop my plans.

“Urgh, alright,” Panacea grunted. She started moving in the direction of the booths.

“Wait!” I approached, positioning my umbrella to also cover for her. No need for the healer to keep torturing herself like this.

She remained quiet as we got closer to the stalls. A lot of different goods and services were sold here, from clothes and furniture to fresh fish and other pastries. After my job I’d certainly come back for lunch. Even with the rain almost all of the stops were still operating as normal.

I halted in front of a shop run by an old woman and a girl. By their interactions, they looked like grandmother and granddaughter. The clothes they sold were all knitted: blouses, sweaters, cardigans, vests, and most important, scarfs. The old woman was, even within all this rain, finishing another garment. Looking at the available pieces I found this giant crocheted dark blue scarf. Wrapping it around my neck felt comfortable enough, and thanks to its length my face was half covered. Perfect. 

I paid and went to look for Panacea. I noticed her close to a stall that looked like a small mobile bakery. Arriving before she could complete her order, I spoke out: “Can you get me a coffee too? I’ll pay you later.”

She sighed deeply. “How do you take yours?”

“Half coffee and half milk.” I responded.

“Oh my god that’s some psycho shit, but fine.” She flipped to the attendant and asked to include my coffee in the order. As the guy finished writing down the items and got to work making them, Panacea turned back to me. “Start explaining. Now.” She demanded.

“Ok, ok. Look, my appointment today is more like a job. Someone requested my services and I came to deliver them.”

“And what exactly are your services?” She said, with emphasis on the question.

“It’s my power. Anything and anyone I look at has these words 'written’ all over them,” I gestured with my hands around while saying, “Words that I can read. It shows their last thoughts, basic information about them, that kind of thing.”

“I thought your power was to master people. Like the three students.” She replied, crossing her arms.

“Apparently that is another facet of my power. Commanding, I named it yesterday. But it is not voluntary, I have no idea how to do it on purpose. What happened with Shadow Stalker truly was a complete accident, and it's not the important part here”.

“Did you ‘command’ me to get you coffee? Have you ever done it with me before?” This type of interrogation was going nowhere.

“Uh, no?” How is this girl so out of tune? “Have you felt compelled to buy me coffee? “She shrugged. “That is your answer. Look, the order is ready.”

Panacea turned back to the stall and passed me my coffee, before picking hers and something that smelled like a croissant but with a square shape. 

I searched for a spot to sit and found a few benches under a canopy. I got Panacea by her sleeve and pulled her across the booths. So many were here today that traversing the narrow space felt like exploring a labyrinth. 

We sat down. Looking at this big clock located in the street indicated 8:45. During this time of the day The Market was crowded. Several people going about their days, passing on the street to check the goods and give a snoop. The Palanquin is just up ahead. I lowered the scarf and sipped the coffee. The way mom made it was better, but the taste was alright. 

“So,” I continued. “I’m here today to do a job looking inside a person with amnesia.”

“How noble.”

“Fucker.”

“No, it really is. I’ve tended to patients with amnesia before. There’s a lot of different causes and my power was never able to help them.” She looked down and took a bite from her food, swallowing it whole. “Is it cape business?”

I checked our surroundings before saying: “Probably a Case 53, but I’m not certain yet.”

She stopped and looked at me again, in silence. She did this silent thing a lot and it bothered me. Her words didn’t tell me anything I already knew. After a big gulp of coffee, her eyes wandered to the stalls. “I’ve looked at the brain of Case’s 35 before, upon request from the PRT. Even if I can't do brains, I can still sense them. They don’t remember because a part of their brains is literally modified in a way I can’t recognize. Why do you think you can do it?”

“When I’m really close to someone, and focusing a lot on their words, it’s like I can dive- No, not dive, more like immerse myself in them. A good analogy would be a sea made of pages and pages full of text. When I get to that state I can see stuff about the person they themselves don’t remember. While testing with my mom I was-”

“You tested your power on your own mother? You really have a problem. Wait, have you ever looked at me?!” She got up from the bench and looked me in the eye.

“First,” I said, also standing up, “My power doesn’t turn off. What do you want me to do? Second, yes, and I’m sorry for that. My sight is basically an automatic invasion of privacy, which is more detrimental for me than anything. “I gestured in the direction of the bakery stall. “Do you think I wanted to know that the guy who served us coffee was lusting for the girl that works on the used electronics stand and was having sexual fantasies about her?” 

Panacea’s face got as white as a ghost's and she backed away a few steps, without breaking eye contact. Oh, I know what is coming. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“W-what have yo-?” She started.

“No comment,” I interrupted her so she wouldn't finish the sentence. In reality I had this information from the mysterious book, but she didn't need to know that. “I’m sorry. Look, it’s your business, alright? We all have some fucked up thing to deal with.”

Her expression was a mix of embarrassment, terror and shame. I grabbed her sleeve again and pulled her close, to sit on the bench again. She was surprisingly accepting of me moving her. Her clothes were still drenched and most of the bench was now too, but I focused on her. Her heart rate was increasing. Her words here screaming and going all over herself. 

“Amy, Amy,” I called, snapping my fingers to grab her attention. It felt weird calling her by name. “「You can relax, it’s alright.」It’s fucked but can happend to anyone, ok? The important part is that you haven’t done anything wrong.” Yet. Part of my main goal was to prevent that.

Upon hearing my words, her breathing quickly slowed and she nodded, staying silent. Her body started calming down as she reached to finish her drink. During the scene before she dropped her pastry on the ground, making it soaked and inedible.

I considered hugging her, but quickly dismissed the idea. She valued privacy and personal space, both things I’ve just invaded. Instead, I placed my hand over her shoulder and offered a small smile, in hope to relieve her stress.

The street clock marked 8:57 now. I had to go.

“Look, it's my time. Do you want to come with me and see me working or do you want to stay here?” I asked, wanting her to agree to come with me. Leaving her alone in this state is cruel and could also provoke unwanted consequences.

Amy looked to her hands as she spoke: “I’ll go with you.” The last thing she wanted was to be alone.

During the morning, the Palanquin looked like any other building. The neon sign that spelled the name of the club was turned off, looking like transparent letters arranged just above the entrance. The main body of the building was shaped from a few old structures, providing its interior with a lot of little rooms and corners around a big centered dancing area.

Faultline was positioned in front of the main entrance, as she said she would. She was wearing a variation of her cape outfit, but in the same style: a black office shirt tucked inside dark pants and black riding boots. She was equipped with a bulletproof vest, what looked like a pistol in a holster and her mask. The mask was a heavily modified riot mask; at that point it was more akin to a welding mask.

“Name?” I was all she asked.

“You can call me Theia. I’m the one you contacted.” I responded.

“Sure. And why is it that you’re walking here with the world’s greatest healer on your shoulder?” She interjected.

“Panacea is here as my companion, you don’t have to worry about her. May we come in?” I answered. Amy gave me a look for the way I phrased it, but said nothing. 

Faultline studied us for a moment before gesturing to follow her. She opened the door, revealing the dark and open interior of the club. The decoration was nothing short of breathtakingly eclectic. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, sharing the open space with a few disco balls. A lot of lights were positioned all around, with sofas of varying sizes circling the big dance floor in the center. 

After we got inside, Faultline moved, closing the door. Taking the front, she guided us through the dance floor in the direction of a stairwell. What I knew about the Palanquin was for it to be probably the most frequented club in town, making it a fascinating sight to see empty like this. For anyone who cared about a party, this was the place.

We went along a balcony and crossed a big heavy door used to soundproof the section we entered. The entire path was nothing short of traversing a maze, a feeling similar to walking among the barracks earlier. 

Our stop was marked by an office at the end of the second floor hallway. Faultline opened the door and oriented me and Amy inside. The room was spacious, taking advantage of the natural light that came in through three big windows. Lot’s of shelves occupied the space behind a large oak table. By the chairs in front of the table rested seated a young man with orange skin and red-ish hair. He was wearing no shirt and jeans pants; no shoes, given the strange shape his feet had. A tail swayed from side to side. I knew who he was thanks to Taylor’s story, on the fight against the ABB. Newter.

“Took you long enough, Faults,” Newter's voice sounded young, like a teen going through puberty experiencing constant shifts in the pitch. “Who’s the chick who’ll probe my brain?”

“That would be Theia,” responded Faultline, pointing to me. It was the first time someone addressed me by my cape name. “The other is Panacea, who’s accompanying her.”

“Holy shit, for real? Can I get an autograph?”

“Not the moment, Newter. Theia, your turn.” Faultline said to me.

I nodded, walking closer to Newter. Amy stood by the door silently watching me work. I sat on the other chair positioned in front of the oak table, beside him. Newter looked at me in a mix of awe and unseriousness. 

“So,” I started explaining, “What I’m going to do is give you a deep reading using my power. Think about it like I’m going through the pages of a binder, and that binder contains all the information about you. On the surface I see the most superficial stuff, but deeper I can come across information you don’t remember knowing or never knew. Questions?”

“Will it sting?” He asked.

I slip out a laugh. “You won't feel a thing. Can I start?” I glanced at Faultline.

“Go ahead.” was the response.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When opening them again, I focused my attention entirely on Newter. His words were chaotic and disorganized, typical of an adolescent. A few short sentences had formed across him. I frowned, as some of those phrases seemed to get thinner as they went inside him.

His laidback nature, the way he enjoyed parties and all his adventures as a teen were easily visible. Some sexual encounters were also there but I’d skip those. There was no remorse or disdain related to his appearance. A section about the biological condition of his body told me he’d turn eighteen in May, something to consider revealing later. 

All was going smoothly, until I'd struck what seemed like a barrier in the memories section. I have never seen something that blocked my access to anyone before. Certainly there were bound to be powers out there that hindered my sight, but this was unexpected. I focused on trying to bypass that blockage, with no success. 

I took another deep breath and closed my eyes again. I recalled all the knowledge about Newter I had. He was a Case 53, lot’s of features remembering amphibians, and was practically my age, a little older. Amy told me earlier that the brains of a Case 53 were altered. Maybe there was something in the brain. I reopened my eyes, going to the part that conveyed information about his biology.

Ah there it was, what looked like a big lock in the brain section, in a similar fashion to the memory barrier. It was too unnatural to not be the result of a power in play. I gripped the chair’s arm and moved closer to him. His body was the key. Somehow, it remembered the age. It had to remember more, otherwise the need for these barriers was null. I flipped the pages to the background behind injuries and accidents.

Bingo. Small cuts, bruises, and injures while working for Faultline. Before that, the detailed process of the body mutilation and forced reparation on a surgery table was all there. And before that, records of a car accident that hindered him quadriplegic, and even before that-

My eyes suddenly started to burn. I felt a liquid streaming down my cheeks, probably tears as I forced my vision. But I’m not stopping now, I’m so close. I forced myself again in his sea of words in the search for a name. Before I was able to find more, something in my head snapped and my body gave in, forcibly closing my eyes. I fell off my chair to the side and listened as someone approached me. I positioned myself to get up, but my arms did not collaborate, making me fall again. My head ached. 

Someone tries to pick me up and by their touch I know it’s Amy. I open my eyes to look at her but all I see is a brown smudge with accents of white. My peripheral vision is all blurry. Her hand finds mine and she says: “Oh my god Li- Theia! Your eyes started bleeding and you collapsed! Do I have permission to heal you?”

“Please do, I can’t see anything.”

Even before I finish my sentence, she is already working on restoring my vision. “It’s your retina,” commented Amy. I was unable to see her expression, her voice sounding breathy, “It’s heavily degenerated, just like when we first met. You also forced your eyes, lots of bursted veins. Is this a side effect from your power?”

“It seems so. Can you help me up?”

“Just let me finish.”

“The other time it was my trigger’s fault,” I responded to a question she thought about asking. Even with the damage in the eyes my power still worked. “Is Newter still around?”

“Already gone.” He replied, being sarcastic. 

“Funny,” it wasn’t. “Say, how would you feel if I told you you used to be ginger?”

“Fuck, you sure? LIke, ginger ginger?”

“Yes, ginger ginger.” With Amy helping me to stand, my vision had already returned. I looked at him, then to Faultline. “There was a type of blockage preventing me from looking inside his memories or brain. Luckily, following your body's history got me a lot of information. Biologically, you’ll be eighteen in May. The furthest I could get showed me you suffered a car accident, later being transported to an operation table. There, your body was experimented on and mutated. That symbol,” I pointed to the omega marked on his chest. “Was engraved after they finished with you.”

“Who were ‘they’?” Faultline asked.

“Can’t say for sure, that’s locked behind the memory section. But I believe that the body of any Case 53 holds information like his.”

The room fell quiet, each person thinking something different. Faultline’s face was mostly covered, except for the eyes that were visible behind the visor. They looked sharp and determined. 

“In summary, if you search for a ginger, with medical records saying he had become quadriplegic after an accident and a mysterious death certificate, you’d find Newter here. Couldn’t find a name.” I complemented.

Faultline murmured something too low to be audible, and walked behind her table. Opening a drawer, she took a briefcase, placing it on the desk. Looking at it, I already knew the contents.

“Your payment, as per our agreement."

“Thank you.” I moved to pick up the case. One hundred grand, all in hundred-dollar bills. If I followed the plan for today, by the end of the day this money would already be half spent. The rest I’d save for later. “Anything else?”

“No. You’ve done us a great favor, Theia.” Faultline raised her hand for a handshake, which I reciprocated. “If the need for your services arises again, we’ll get in touch.”

“It was a pleasure helping you. I remember the way out, so no need to escort us. Let’s go, Panacea.”

Amy followed me as we left the room. While passing in the corridor leading to the balcony, a door was open with a blonde girl looking at us. I smiled at her and made a gesture with my hand as we passed her.

Outside the club the rain had stopped. Checking my phone, its clock marked 10:30. My first job came quickly, but it was intense. I turned to Amy, who was looking at my briefcase.

“Still think I’m a villain?” I said, provoking her while adjusting my grip on the case.

It took her a while to respond. “Not entirely. But if the person hiring you was a villain tha-

“Urgh, forget I asked.” I interrupted. “What are you gonna do now? I’m finished here but there are other places I planned to see today.”

“I-I think I’ll just go home. Not in the mood for school anymore, much less to go healing.”

“You healed me just fine.”

“TH-that was different. Your eyes basically exploded in front of me.” She responded, nervously.

I repressed a small laugh. “Fair.”

Continuing today’s planned schedule, the next part was to go after Parian to commission my costume. She’s never done a costume for another person yet, and my sewing skills were close to zero, so it sounded like the perfect solution to commission her. The design I had in mind was something inspired to be close to a detective or a spy, someone that handled information, but to also embellish it with silver and jewels, making a statement about the choice of my name.

But leaving Panacea alone now was the wrong move. She had a very bad reaction upon finding out I knew her secret and even after calming herself, her mind was still not in a good place. Her words showed a lot of confusion. If I leave her and something happens… That’s too many possible variables to consider.

“You know what? I’m accompanying you on your way home.”

My response surprised her. “You don’t have to. Just go.”

“Nonsense. I’ll just buy something for lunch down there and we can go, ok?.” 

Amy nudged my arm with a soft punch as I began walking. I started bothering her about food as we went in an effort to distract her. In parallel, I had quickly adjusted today’s objectives. It was time to meet the Dallons.

Chapter Text

Amy’s house was situated in the south-east area of Downtown. Considering the distance, it was closer to my house than school was, but given the way the streets had been designed in the suburban parts of Downtown gave me the impression it would take as much time to get here than going to school, with my apartment as the starting point.

This part of town was considered one of the nicer ones, in a different way from The Hill. In The Hill’s surroundings there were many famous brand stores, so normal police activity presented itself with more frequency. But here, it was mostly houses and modern apartments. The absence of points of interest for parahuman activity combined with the constant vigilance New Wave performed on the region granted the good reputation the area had. An occasional movement from The Empire happened in a more sporadically way, but New Wave’s efforts to drive them out had been proven fruitful.

The house itself was impressive, although not in a rich way. Painted mostly in a pearlish white, it had two stores, a front yard and lots of windows. While not as big as I expected, it certainly had double ceiling height floors and a chimney. It didn't look like a rich person's house, but it was a fancy house nonetheless.

“I thought your house would be bigger, given your family’s reputation and all.” I commented.

“Shut up,” retorted Amy, before sighing. “It is a good house. Mark’s probably inside, heating something to eat. You can go now.”

“Sorry but no?” I responded.

Amy turned her head to look at me with a frown. Her body was mostly dry by now but her clothes were extremely crumpled. “What now?”

“Look at you!” I waved my hand around her image. “I can see you’re feeling worse than gum stuck on someone’s shoe, with or without my power. I know I’m just a random cape bothering you but can you like, try not be so harsh on yourself? For once?”

Amy answered me with a “hmm”. She then rested her left hand on her right arm and looked at me thoughtfully.

“You hate being alone, and I’m giving you the opportunity to not be. Mark is no company, Victoria is not around, and Carol would never count. I won’t force you to hang out or anything, but my opinion as a professional people reader is for you to not be alone right now.”

“Vicky is coming home in a few hours.”

“Yeah, but I will emphasize that you need someone who is not her.” I pointed at myself. Her look was still skeptical. “I’ve also eaten the sandwich on the way so you don't even need to treat me or anything.”

After finally understanding that she wouldn't be able to get rid of me, Amy looked down. There was a level of annoyance on my actions that irritated her, but she understood where I was coming from with all this.

“Ok, you can come. Just don't say anything about, y'know.” She stopped, indicating my briefcase.

“Oh, it's fine. I have my way with words.”

“You sure do.” Said Amy, sarcastically.

She walked in and I followed, finally entering the Dallon residence. The interior complemented the exterior, in a way. Most of the walls were painted white and the furniture was either gray or the natural wood color the piece had. 

Some flowers were arranged by the entrance on top of a small table. After the hall, the house diverged in three paths: left for the stairs, front for the kitchen and dining room, and right for the living room. I made sure to take off my shoes to avoid dirtying the house. Amy noticed but did nothing about hers. She went straight to the kitchen in search of her dad. Trying not to be left behind, I chased her. 

The kitchen was spacious, with lots of cabinets and a big isle in the center. Flashbang was seated there, eating something that looked like microwaved mac and cheese. His face was mostly fine, with a light beard that complimented his jaw. His blonde hair was cut really short, in a way that conveyed the idea that he was balding but refusing to let the hair go. He was wearing pajama shorts and a hoodie, but his muscles were still somewhat visible where he had exposed skin. His expression as seeing Amy entering the room changed from a frowny to an embarrassing but truthful smile.

“Good morning sweetie,” whispered Flashbang, with a monotone voice. “You came back early. Something happened at school?”

“Morning, Dad. The truth is-”

“Hi, Mr. Dallon,”  I said, interrupting Amy. She shot me an annoyed look, which I ignored. “Amy skipped school because I was having some problems and needed someone to talk to. I hope she's not in any trouble.”

“Oh, no, no, of course not. If the reason is good we can always let it slide.” He took another bite of the pasta. “What’s your name again?”

“I’m Liam. Liam Latymer, sir.”

Flashbang gave me a thoughtful look. “Are you in any case the daughter of Charles Latymer?”

“Uhm, yes. That’s my dad. You knew him?” That surprised both me and Amy. I’d never given the thought our families could be familiar with one another.

“Very much so. He did the renovations for this house a few years ago. Best engineer I had ever worked with, not that I’ve worked with many,” he paused, moving to the main balcony for a cup of water. “What is he working with now? I bet it’s one of those skyscrapers in Boston or the museum renovations in Cambridge.”

“My- my father is dead.” I responded, in a dry tone. “He died two years ago, caught in the middle of a fight between the Protectorate and the Empire.” I didn't feel at ease talking about my father most of the time. His death affected us greatly, especially mom.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Do you girls need anything?"

“We're fine, Dad,” responded Amy. “If you need assistance with anything, just call me. We’ll be in my room.”

Amy moved back to the corridor and I followed, waving Mark a goodbye. Upon climbing the stairs, we passed by a few doors until reaching hers. Different from Victoria’s room, which had a plaque identifying it on the door, Amy’s was plain and normal.

As she opened it, I got my first glimpse of her space. The room was, in contrast with the rest of the house, much more colorful: the furniture was in a dark shade that remembered fuchsia, with her bed’s frame having a varnished wood finish. The sheets were all over the place; her pillow lying in the other corner, looking as if it had been thrown there recently. A study table situated itself alongside the closet door and two shelves filled with a collection of vinyls and CDs, just above gifts she received from patients. What I assume is a bathroom door was located to my right. In retrospect, her room is as big as half my apartment. Maybe they are that rich, after all.

“Sit wherever you like. I’m going to change.” Amy moved fast, grabbing a change of clothes from the closet and sprinting to the bathroom.

I didn't even had time to comment before she closed the door. Now alone, I wandered to her shelves to get a closer look.

Lots of band names I didn't recognize, what was normal. Most of my musical knowledge came from my dad and Cassie; he would only listen to rock and she was a religious pop fan. In the lower section, the gifts she collected from her hospital visits were neatly displayed: a big pile of drawings made by kids from all ages, some sculptures and hand made gifts and traditional store bought ones too. A small doll made of clay with Amy cape clothes sat in the middle of the shrine. The costume was accurate but the doll’s hair was a little off. Too flat to be Amy’s. 

On the desk, I picked up a piece of paper and a pen to write down my phone number and my PHO account in case she needed to contact me. Thinking about PHO, I opened my phone to see if any other person had made a request and got caught off guard upon seeing a post Faultline had made with a different account, her official one, stating our interaction and giving credibility to my work. I wonder what Tattletale would think of me interacting with her nemesis, letting a smile develop on my face.

“What's so funny?” Asked Amy, as she left the bathroom. The clothes she chose were casual ones: a long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. The hair showed signs of an attempt to tidy it, with limited success. 

“Thinking about a possible future interaction. Say, is the sound of 'Indigo Girls’ or ‘Paramore’ any good? Never heard of them.” I inquired, pointing to her collection.

She nodded quietly, staring at me with her big brown eyes. Upon realizing she wouldn't say anything else, I continued. “Well, you must like them a lot,” Given the amount of stuff from the bands on the shelves. “I'm not someone who listens much to music. My taste mostly comes from my dad; rock and all that. My favorites are ‘Californication’ and ‘OK Computer’.”

In an attempt to change the subject, I handed her the piece of paper. “Here, in case we need to get in touch you should have these.”

She reached for the piece of paper and took it, giving it a look before storing it in her pocket. She moved and sat on her bed, sighing. Another thing she did a lot.

“Sorry for Mark earlier. Sometimes he can’t read the room.”

Look who is saying. “It’s fine, he didn't know better. Dad is still a touchy subject.” I went and sat beside her at the edge of the bed. “So, how do you pass time around here?”

In the following hours, Amy and I basically talked the entire time. The conversation topics varied a lot, ranging from small school gossip, some of her field action and music. She let me listen to a few songs on an old walkman that belonged to Mark, and I quite enjoyed the Paramore songs. As time went over Amy relaxed more and her words got more stable than I have ever seen before. She’s just a teenager, like me. It's visible how much she needed more moments like this.

Around four in the afternoon, there was a loud bump coming from another room in the house, making Amy flinch. Loud steps echoed on the walls, making their way toward us. The door opened, with Victoria Dallon storming in Amy’s direction. Amy was sitting at her desk and I was on the bed.

“Amy, I was so worried! When you didn’t show up for English and with your cryptic messages, I didn't know what to think! Are you ok?” Said Glory Girl, breathlessly. Her clothes were normal school clothes if you exclude some makeup she had on her eyes.

“I’m fine. Vicky. Sorry if I worried you.” Responded Amy.

“Oh, the fault is all mine” I commented, catching Glory Girl's attention as she turned to give me a look. By her expression, she hadn't noticed me in the room. At all. “My apologies for snatching Amy away.” 

“Uhm, hi. I don’t think we’ve met.” Glory Girl came to me and positioned her hand for a handshake. I have to give her credit, she knew how to improvise social interactions much better than me. “Victoria Dallon. You may also know me as Glory Girl.”

“Liam Latymer, normal teen.” I took her hand as Amy gave me a look. Glory Girl words were trickier to look at than I had expected. A lot of the more superficial stuff was quite obvious, but she had very few openings to read further into. Is this a side effect from her aura, perhaps?

I tried my best to look normal. It may sound strange but getting Glory Girl suspicious of me would hinder me more than Amy, in a way. She could fly and had a history of interrogating people from the skies.

“She is the patient I mentioned yesterday.” Amy intervened.

“Oh, I see,” Glory Girl stance gave in a little. “I’ll leave you to do it then. Nice meeting you, Liam. You two can tell me more during dinner.” Glory Girl said to Amy.

“No need, I won’t be staying much longer.”  I got up and went to grab my bag and briefcase. “Can you spare us a moment?”

“Sure, sure. Until next time, then.” Glory Girl smiled at me before exiting the room.

I walked closer to Amy and grabbed her arm. I waited for Glory Girl to close her door before speaking. Amy looked at me with some uncertainty in her eyes.

“How much does she know?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Oh, I wonder what about a PATIENT you told her?” Amy’s words were still mostly on the topics from our conversations, and a little now shifted to her sister. Nothing direct about me.

“Ah, that. It’s nothing.” She was distracted by something I couldn't pinpoint. “If you think I’m lying can’t you check by looking?”

I studied her and nothing showed up. She was telling the truth. I released her arm, adjusting my grip on the case again and preparing for my leave.

“You’re clear. I overreacted. If you dealt with information like me you’d understand the paranoia.”

“No shit.”

Before leaving her room I gave Amy one last look. The sun was starting to set and some light entering through her window reflected on her eyes, making the brown shine.

“See you later, Amy. I hope tomorrow will be a good day for you. And don’t appear unannounced like that again, please.” I said, referencing the school appearance.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Bye, Liam.”

I walked out of the room and passed on the corridor, making my way downstairs. Considering all, the day went somewhat fine. Not having met Brandish today was also a bonus. I don’t trust her and her treatment of Amy is a liability. Passing  the hall I gave a wave to Flashbang, who was seated in the living room. The temperature outside was starting to decrease. Even if not by much it was noticeable. I left the Dallon residence feeling weird, but I could not understand why. It was a bother that I couldn't see my own words.

Anyway, if my lucky streak continues, maybe I can still find Parian in a store or something and be done with my day.