I, Panacea Pt 16 (Patreon)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ooh, she's good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? She was confused.

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

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

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

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

“Can it wait?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Now, please.”

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

Ah, yeah, what?

Tell her to turn her aura the fuck down.

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

“What? Why?”

Assault with a parahuman power.

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

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

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

How did you know?

“Okay, done. Now why did I do it?”

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

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

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

Vicky frowned. “I never touched her.”

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

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

Amy echoed Michael's words. “First time for everything.”

“Okay.” Vicky bit her lip. “Want to take over?”

“Uh -” I'm not sure about this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blackwell cleared her throat. “Language, Miss Hebert.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amy reached out to Taylor. “May I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But -”

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

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

Shush, you.

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

Oh god, I hope I got this.

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

“You sure?” Vicky asked, just as softly.

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

“I don't like leaving you alone.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you certain?” asked Amy. “Just to be sure?”

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

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

Well, that was plan A.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, you said there was,” Emma countered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And your email accounts. They're all full?”

Taylor nodded. “All except for the latest one, yeah.”

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

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

Can we prove they did?

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

Oh. Then what can we do?

Remind them that there's other stuff.

Oh, like the locker?

Like the locker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don't know anything,” Sophia told her.

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

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

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

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

“But you were there,” Amy pressed. “Right?”

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

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

Hah!

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uh, give me something else, quick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wouldn't be so sure.

Huh?

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

Oh. Right. “Uh, Principal Blackwell?”

Blackwell looked over at her. “Yes, Panacea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, you're staying for the day.

What?

Just trust me.

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

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

Yes, why am I staying?

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

What, really?

A snort. Wanna take the chance?

But she can take care of herself -

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

… I think I'll stay.

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

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

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

Oooh.

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who's she calling?

Her social worker. Otherwise known as her PRT handler.

Oh.

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

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

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

Oh. Right.

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

I … yeah. I see your point.

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

Told you.

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

“Panacea?” She was pretty sure she recognised the voice.

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma'am. I believe that implicitly.”

“Do you have any evidence?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oooh, semantics, even. I like it.

Shush.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn, she is on the ball.

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

Got that, yeah. “The very same.”

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

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

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

Oh. I see.

“Are you there?”

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

“Good.” And without further ado, the Director hung up.

Well, that was abrupt.

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

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

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

You should have mentioned the arrows.

We can do that later, right?

Probably.

<><>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm thinking you're right.

Was this in the original plan?

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

Out of what?

Strife. Trouble.

Oh. Okay. So what do we do?

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

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

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

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

<><>

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yes.”

“And your dad never intervened before then?”

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

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

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

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

Michael made a throat-clearing noise.

What?

She might want to call her dad?

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

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

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

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

Should he be told?

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

Okay. But …

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is basically all the time, now.

… yeah.

<><>

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

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

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

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

“Dad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It, uh, never stopped?”

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

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

“ … dealt with?”

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

“You're right. I don't believe it.”

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

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

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

<><>

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

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

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

“Meeting?” Glory Girl looked puzzled. “What meeting?”

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

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

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

Vicky winced. “Did you clear it with Mom first?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><>

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

“Uh, not quite."

She frowned. "What's happening?"

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

“ … what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not on my watch.

<><>

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

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

Me too.

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

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

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

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

Amy grinned. “That's the spirit.”

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

Part 17