PWP: 3.15 Surge (Patreon)

Surge 3.15

2010, November 16: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

“Hey, Bryce, got a minute?” Dean called as I got out of English lit. I’d been looking forward to finishing up a few more commissions so I could get Big Rig to make me more fabricators and drones. Alas, Dean seemed rather insistent on a quick chat.

I turned to our ever-upright student pres with a smile. “Yo, what’s up, Dean? You need something?”

“Not me personally. Walk with me a bit?”

“Sure, why not.”

He nudged me towards his Acura TSX. “Is there something going on between you and Amy?”

“I’m sorry?” I blinked in surprise. That wasn’t where I expected this conversation to go. I had multiple excuses and deflections for any suspicions he might have concerning Creed, my after school activities, or even should he think I had the hots for Vicky, but not this. In hindsight, this should have been obvious. Dean wasn’t the best at interpreting his power, but he was at least sensitive enough to discern emotional distress, even if he had no way of knowing the details.

“You and Amy. She’s been scowling a lot lately whenever she looks at you.”

“Dean, she’s always scowling,” I waved off his concern. “I love Ames but grumpy is kind of her default state of being.”

“Fine, she’s scowling more than usual. And she’s generally happier when you’re around,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair and gave me a sheepish smile. “I’m not blind, you know. Amy doesn’t like that Vicky and I are together, never has, really. So I think I’ve gotten pretty good at telling her moods apart. You used to make her happy.”

I stared at him skeptically. “Really.”

“I’m serious, Bryce. Can we stop pretending Amy Dallon is the embodiment of the Grinch? Yes, she’s moodier than other girls, but let’s not act like she’s incapable of happiness.”

“I’m not. It’s the part where I’m involved that’s the novelty.”

“Well you are. Or were. She puts on a show but she liked trading insults with you. And then now you’re not. I just want to know what happened. Did you ask her out and get rejected or something?”

I looked at him carefully. Dean Stansfield was as conventionally handsome as a high school boy could be. He had a strong jaw and deep, expressive brown eyes framed by wavy brown hair. His appearance was a tool as useful as his power. He had a way of looking so damn caring, like telling him to stop being nosy would somehow make me the bad person.

Worst of all, I knew what he could do and I still couldn’t hate the guy. He genuinely wanted to repair a perceived rift between his friends.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re really nosy, Dean?” I deflected.

“All the time,” he said with a wry smile, “but if caring too much is my big character flaw, so be it. Now stop deflecting.”

I considered my friend. I had to play into his perception of me. What was his power seeing in my aura? Irritation, with him for sure and not a little with Amy. Frustration that I couldn’t do more for Sabah without replacing her dad’s heart with an AT. And, if I was honest with myself, satisfaction that I received confirmation from Gallant that my efforts to befriend Amy were bearing fruit.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? Amy and I had a fight. It happens. Friends disagree sometimes.”

“What was it about? Can I help?”

I rolled my eyes. Having Dean Stansfield butt in on our tiff? Yeah, that’d make Amy want to concede. “Not a chance in hell. Look, you just told me Amy didn’t like you. Do you really think you being nosy would help anyone? She’s more likely to dig in her heels because of you than talk things out. And no, this isn’t because of a bad date or anything like that.”

“What about Vicky? I could maybe get her to play the middleman?”

“Nope. Never. Dean, I get that you’re trying to help, but the last thing I want is for Amy to think I’m trying to manipulate her using her sister.” If she thought I was using her captivation with Vicky to get what I wanted from her… Never mind starting back at square one, I’d be in so much shit I may as well build a castle out of it. “Just trust that we can hash this out ourselves, alright?”

“Alright, fine, just don’t be afraid to come to me or Vicky if you need a second opinion.”

“Right, thanks for caring,” I said as I tapped his windshield. I surprised myself a bit; I meant it. Dean cared and it was… It was refreshing in its own way. In a city where empathy was an endangered species, here was a boy who did his level best to make everyone around him happy. Did that make him a people-pleaser? Yes. It certainly wasn’t a good thing, but I couldn't quite hold it against him as a fault either.

We parted and I stuck by the library for a bit so I could schedule my third tutoring student, some kid by the name of James O’Melveny. He said he just wanted a tutor to help him cram for finals, which was great because I also only wanted a student for the end of the semester.

X

I just made it to my lab when Amy called. I answered and pointed the camera facing down. “Ames? Sorry, I’m not dressed. What’s up?”

“Dude, most people have the decency to not answer the phone while jerking off,” she sniped. That was probably a good sign?

I activated my quick-change canister and pulled the camera to my face. “Very funny. This about Sabah’s dad or Glyph?”

“Both,” she paused. “I’m really glad you’re helping Glyph.”

“So am I. She’s a good person, take it from the guy who knows what she had for breakfast last Wednesday.”

“That’s kinda creepy.”

“My background investigation was very thorough. I know where she worked, more or less everyone she’s ever fought alongside and against, and could probably make a more than fair guess at her identity, not that I ever would without damn good reason. Anyway, she does good work. I’ll give her a hefty discount.”

“That’s good. You’re really serious about the ‘only selling to heroes’ thing.”

“Of course I am, Ames. We made a promise, and what is Creed if not a promise?”

“Yeah…” She shuffled nervously. “So… About Sabah’s dad…”

I could already tell the answer by the guilty look on her face. “Amy…”

“Hear me out! You said that when Sabah triggers, she becomes a hero, right?”

“No, she technically becomes a villain actually.”

“Yeah, but a villain like you? Not like Hookwolf?”

“I’m not seeing the relevance here but yes. The city goes to shit and she gets put in a position where she holds territory and protects people under her rule.”

“What happens for the city to get like that?”

Bakuda. Coil. E88. Leviathan. A part of me wanted to tell her, blow her mind with the sheer magnitude of everything that was coming, but I couldn’t risk it. I took a deep breath and shrugged helplessly. “Dossier, remember? Not a movie. Besides, not a single dossier mentions me, which means-”

“You die… Oh, Bryce…”

“What? No! Why is your first conclusion that I die? And it’s Creed. Use the name, woman.”

“Oh, relax, Vicky’s out with Dean and dad’s shooting the breeze with Neil. Mom won’t be home until eight at least,” she scoffed. “And because you’re a big deal in the city! If your power doesn’t mention you then it’s because you’re not there!”

“Or, I’ve left the city for some reason. Or here’s another idea, I’m my own blindspot. The dossiers are filled out as though I was never around to make changes.”

“Oh, that… that makes sense…”

“Don’t go killing me off just ‘cause you’re upset with me, Panpan,” I scoffed. “Point being, since my power gives me intel without my involvement, a lot of events might change.”

“Well Sabah’s a good person who tries to do what’s right is what you’re saying, right?”

“Yeah? So? Please don’t tell me you think we should let her trigger because you want her to be a net positive for the city.”

“Hey, you said it yourself; she protects a lot of people.”

“Yeah! People I could just as easily protect in her place!”

“What about her fashion? Didn’t you say she wanted to unmask one day to make a comment on racial discrimination in the industry? She can’t do that without getting famous as a cape!”

“That whole plan’s idiotic! Sure, let’s pretend to be white and blonde then suddenly take off my mask and show a city full of Nazis that I’m Arabic! What part of that plan sounds healthy to you?”

“Her girlfriend,” Amy tried. She was starting to sound desperate now. “You said she’ll meet her girlfriend who’s also a cape. Would she meet her if she didn’t have powers?”

That brought me up short. Lily was important. Not only was she one of the few good people in the world, she was genuinely vital to any attempt at Scion’s life. Having Parian in my corner would also make getting my hands on Foil a far easier task in the future.

I immediately hated myself the moment I thought about it. I wasn’t thinking Sabah could have a mostly happy ending; I was thinking I could charm Lily to my side by manipulating Sabah. Some friend I was…

“Amy, enough. You call me on my bullshit. It’s what you do and I love you for it. So let me do the same for you,” I said softly. I took off my helmet so she could meet my eyes. Not Creed and The GOAT, here and now, we were Bryce and Amy again. “You’re telling me all these reasons but you don’t believe a word of it. No more excuses. No more justifying why you won’t fix Sabah’s dad. This isn’t about who Sabah is or who she might become anymore; tell me about you.”

A dozen emotions flashed across her face, too fast for me to read. She took a shuddering breath. Like this, the perpetual bags under her eyes looked even more pronounced, bloodshot in a way that said she’d been crying.

“I can’t,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t… Bryce… Does your power tell you what my rules are?”

“It does. No brains. No biokinesis beyond healing. No payment or commissions.”

“Yeah… Three rules… I once healed someone in the street, you know, back when I first got my powers. I couldn’t leave the Boardwalk for four hours.”

“That’s not what we’re talking about, Amy,” I rebuked gently. The real tragedy of it all was that I could see a lot of parallels between Sabah and Amy. Amy herself had triggered when she thought Vicky would die to the Chorus. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m afraid, okay?” she yelled with surprising force. “I’m scared! Scared that if I heal her dad, I’ll never be finished! Scared that breaking one rule will make breaking all the others easier! Do you have any idea what it’s like? When I touch people, I don’t just see a button in my mind I push to make them better, Bryce! I get ideas! I want to give them subdermal armor to reinforce their organs! I want to make acid pods that clear blood vessels on their own! I want to split their hearts into twelve different pumps in their bodies so they never have to worry about one going down! I want to make them like Crawler!”

She took huge, staggering gulps of air as she tired herself out. I’d never seen this side of her before. I knew this was hiding beneath, but I wasn’t ready for the explosion of emotion. She kept herself so closed off normally, wearing her scowl and sarcastic wit like a suit of armor against the world, or perhaps to protect the world from her own perceived imperfections. She couldn’t be Panacea right now. For that matter, I didn’t think being Amy Dallon was a good thing either. She needed to be Amelia, a fresh slate, someone with no reservations or burdens.

“And that’s okay. I admire you. I respect you. That hasn’t changed, Amy. Do you remember when I said you aren’t your father?” I spoke gently. She sniffled and nodded shakily. “Well you’re not Carol either. Nor are you your power. They’re parts of you, but none of them define who you are. You set those rules but they don’t have to be an anchor dragging you down. You can choose. I believe in you.”

“Really? ‘I believe in you?’ You sound like a bad Protectorate Pals episode.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it untrue.”

Amy looked down at her hands, utterly exhausted. She whispered finally, “Why? Why do you believe in me? You know what I can do.”

‘Better than you do,’ I thought wryly. The shadow of the Red Queen loomed overhead but I’d already promised myself not to let it take hold. She wouldn’t ever be that person if I could help it. “I do. I know. And I refuse to let who you might become weigh down the person you are now.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Bryce?”

“Yes, Amy?”

“When does it stop?” she asked quietly. “You’ll say this is the only one but will it really?”

I frowned in thought. She… She wasn’t wrong to think that. Eventually, I’d develop healing tech on my own. Hell, I could heal myself already, and others too if I wanted to unveil my TM Interface. But what if something happened to Sierra or mom before that? I’d happily come clean and tell them about aura. What about Michelle, Sierra’s other friend? She’d been good to me too. Would I ignore her personal tragedies simply because I didn’t think she’d trigger? Because she wasn’t narratively important? Would I be willing to out myself to her?

I asked myself the question and once again found that I didn’t like who I was. But in the end, I wasn’t ready to tell Sabah. Or a hypothetical Michelle.

I tried to hear the words Amy wasn’t saying. Her problem wasn’t with healing someone with a heart condition, of course not. Her problem was that the request came from me.

I was a friend, maybe her very first friend that wasn’t part of New Wave since she got powers. Hell, maybe even her only friend. I heard the unspoken accusation: Are you using me too? How long until the next time? Will you abandon me if I don’t do what you want?

I’d never seen her this vulnerable before. I doubted anyone else had either.

‘I can’t push her,’ I realized. It was like a bucket of ice water dropped on my head. ‘If I push her any further, she’ll close herself off. Everything I worked for goes up in smoke…’

I wracked my brain for a solution. I wanted to help Sabah, but the thought of losing Amy was viscerally unpleasant. I… I cared for her. Somewhere along the line, she’d changed from my moral leash and compass to someone I was proud to call a friend, someone I didn’t want to lose.

“You won’t lose me, Amy,” I promised her. “I won’t stop being your friend. I won’t make our friendship transactional either.”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“A compromise.”

“What?”

“A compromise. You’re my friend, and so is Sabah. I want to see her happy but I also don’t want to make demands of you.”

“Then what, Bryce?”

“No commissions, fine. Sabah’s dad has a heart condition. He’s been in and out of the hospital for months now. Would you be willing to visit the cardiology ward after every shift? Heal a few extra people before you head out?” I looked at her pleadingly. This was it. This was the best I could think of in the moment. If she said yes, there would be a good chance Sabah’s dad would get caught up in the healing. If she said no…

One breath. Then four. Then finally, she said with a watery smile, “No commissions… I… I could do that… Heart disease is awful even if it doesn’t kill right away. It’s not weird for Panacea to pay a few visits…”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I know what I’m asking. Thanks for listening, Amy.”

“I… Yeah… Bryce?”

“Yes, Amy?”

“We’re… We’re cool?”

I couldn’t stop a snort of laughter. I waved my hands apologetically at her scowl. “Sorry, sorry, ‘cool?’ After that heart-to-heart, you’re going with ‘We’re cool?’”

“Fuck you, Bryce. I was being serious!”

“I know, I know. And yes, Amy, we’re cool. Even if you sound super lame.”

“Shut up. And remember to give Glyph a discount!” she snapped before ending the call. Just before she did, I thought I could spy the ghost of a smirk.

“Give Glyph a discount huh? I was already planning on it but… I guess it wouldn’t kill me to be extra-generous… just this once.”

Maker-Trainer’s biorhythms show signs of relief, SAINT typed into my laptop.

“You could say that.”

Will you proceed with making Sabah’s father an artificial heart?

That was something I’d been considering. Air Gear did have artificial organs. In fact, there was a villain who replaced his lungs with a variant of the Rumble Regalia. He was powerful enough to face Lind on even ground, though he did end up losing in the end.

Modifying the Ramjet into a set of miniaturized pumps to replace a human heart… wasn’t impossible. Strip away all the combat techniques and what I’d be left with was effectively just a better version of any artificial heart on the market. I could probably make it look less disgusting than the literal turbines Arthur had coming out of his chest, but some exhaust was necessary. That kind of energy couldn’t be stored in the human body safely, at least, not as I was now.

“No,” I told SAINT, “Sabah would never go for it. A part of me wants to kidnap her dad and give him a new heart but that won’t solve her problem. If anything, the stress is more likely to force a trigger and I’ll gain a mortal enemy where I was trying to make a friend.”

She would hate Creed even if you solved her problem?

“That’s likely. It’s not only important to solve problems, but to solve them the right way.”

That seems needlessly complicated.

“It is. Now come on, I want to spend the rest of my specialization mastering the Roads. I think I have enough on my plate without adding even more to it.”

SAINT jumped out of the computer and into my arms. Soon, we were racing along the tanker hold. I couldn’t use Bubblegum Crisis without causing enough noise to wake the dead, but I could practice making what I’d begun to call Mist Clones. The two of us played an elaborate game of tag using Thunder Waves, Protects, and Mist Clones until we tired ourselves out by dinner.

X

My family and I sat around the dinner table, the TV set at a quiet drone in the background. Sierra, in a sudden bout of industriousness, decided she wanted to try her hand at making something edible. The resulting loaded mac was… surprisingly not awful.

“So, what do you think?” she asked with a smug grin on her face. “Can your big sis cook or what?”

“It’s mac and cheese with stir fried onions and chorizo mixed in. Let’s not get a swelled head, Sisi.”

“Psh, you’re just jealous.”

“Children,” my mom said tiredly. “Must you two bicker?”

“I just want Bryce to say my food is tasty.”

“Fine, stop pouting. It’s good,” I said with a small smile.

“Finally, it’s like pulling teeth with you.”

“I’m your kid bro. Deflating your ego is practically my sworn duty.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, only for the contents of the news to fill the void.

“This just in, a violent confrontation between the Empire and ABB ravaged Charlton Boulevard north of Westmark Lane. Seventeen gang members engaged in what police on the ground are calling a turf war, which only ended with the arrival of ABB lieutenant, Oni Lee. We will not go to our camera crew on the ground to spare you the graphic aftermath but the battle resulted in the deaths of eight suspected members of the Empire and three suspected members of the ABB. The gangs dispersed shortly after.

“We have reached out to the PRT for comment but have received no word as of this live broadcast. By our count, this is the latest of four violent conflicts between the rival gangs in the past month and the first time a cape lieutenant has directly involved himself. We here at BB News strongly urge all to avoid the area should you be commuting from work.”

“Huh, where is Charlton Boulevard?” I asked curiously. I hadn’t even realized there were four such conflicts, though I supposed if this was the first with a cape, the others couldn’t have been too bad.

“A little southwest of Winslow,” mom answered me. She twirled her fork into her bowl of mac with concern. “I know people who live around there.”

“Call them and make sure they’re alright?”

“I think I will after dinner.”

I finished up dinner and volunteered to wash the dishes since Sierra cooked. As I ran the dishes through soapy water, I wondered what caused this. The gangs were always squabbling, it wouldn’t be Brockton otherwise, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a cause. Typically, these things were small and mostly nonlethal, people didn’t just drop dead every time some pimp or drug dealer wanted to expand to another street corner or back alley.

Things were shifting in the background. The Brockton Bay I thought I knew was eroding away as the butterfly that was my presence flapped its wings.

Author’s Note

There is a distinct chance that Dean thinks that if Amy gets laid, she’ll stop mad-dogging him and Vicky. It wouldn’t work, but Dean sees what he wants to see, which is kind of the problem with the guy. High CHA, low WIS.

Ugh, still bad with emotions… Here’s the expected angst of Amy being Amy. On the plus side, I think this chapter is a hell of a shift from the beginning of the story when Bryce wanted to “let the chips fall where they may.” In the months since the start of the school year, he’s thoroughly been shaken from his apathy, at least where his friends are concerned.