I, Panacea Pt 9 (Patreon)

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

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

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

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

Oh, right.

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

Shit. Pretend to be asleep.

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

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

Oh. Shit. Right.

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

Tell her no.

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

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

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

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

Heh. Probably.

Shush. “What's the matter?”

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

What's she after?

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

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

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

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

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

Ahem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Welcome to the rest of the human race, kid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amy froze. What do I say to that?

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

Well, how did it come up?

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

“Ames? What's up?”

Therapy? Why was I taking therapy?

Because I told you to.

And did it help?

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

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

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

Shit.

No kidding. She's smarter than people think.

What am I gonna do?

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

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

Thanks, I think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you haven't met this one -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do your powers say?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How do you know that?

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

“Vicky … ?”

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

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

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

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

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

Amy sighed. “Yeah. Still am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?

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

What's that?

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

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

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

Oh god, she asked it.

Fuck. I said I'd be honest.

I'm presuming you have.

Well, in my place, wouldn't you?

I reserve the right to not self-incriminate.

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

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

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

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

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

“I haven't done that for at least -”

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

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

Amy felt herself blushing. “Vividly.”

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

Shit, I have too.

Talking about the bank robbery.

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

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

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

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

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

How about hearing voices in your head?

Oh, shut up.

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

"And I love you for it."

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

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

She's right. You are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amy sighed. “Yeah, I'm good with it.”

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

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

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

Okay, tell me.

Tell you what?

About the time it went badly.

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

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

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

Oh god.

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

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

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

Amy was shocked. But why?

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

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

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

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

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

So what happened then?

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

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

No. Vicky found you.

What did I do?

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

And I refused.

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

Amy -

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

Amy -

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

I believe you.

… what.

I believe you. You wouldn't do it.

But you just said -

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

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

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

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

… oh. Uh, sorry.

For what?

Yelling at you.

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

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

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

Thanks.

For what?

Walking me through this. Being there. Helping me.

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

Huh?

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

That sounds ominous.

Oh, trust me, ominous is only the start.

But you can help us through it?

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

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

<><>

Amy! AMY!

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

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

Wow, was I asleep?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Talking about me, probably.

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

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

A good thing? How so?

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

Not sure if that's a good thing.

And what you had before was so great?

… okay, you have a point.

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

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

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

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

Oh. shit.

Crap on a stick.

“Oh, uh -”

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

What do I tell her?

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

Fuck.

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

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

Part 10