-Legion*** Taylor ***Legion-
The next morning, I woke up as someone put a tray of food on the table next to the bed and then left without saying a word. Looking around, I saw that Amy was still asleep, although she had rolled onto her back and was lying next to me holding my hand, rather than holding tight like she had been last night when I fell asleep.
Looking at the tray of breakfast, I decided that I wasn't actually hungry and would wait until Amy woke up to eat, besides, the broths, soups and juices were fine when they cooled. They could wait. Using the bedside controller I turned the lights back down and tried, unsuccessfully, to fall back asleep. Instead, I found myself thinking about the offer that Amy had made the night before; to rebuild and enhance my body, the idea was beyond tempting; but I was worried about what would happen to her if anyone found out what she could do.
As tempted as I was by Amy's offer, and I was truly tempted, one thing did puzzle me; after everything I had been through, how many times I had been setup and betrayed, lied to and abused; how come Amy didn't frighten me? I wasn't worried about how she could use her power against me; I was worried that others would find out what she could do and the consequences she would face. Why did I simply trust her to do as she said, to not lie to me or betray me, like everyone else had for the last year and a half?
It wasn't faith, I was sure of that much. Honestly, after everything that I had endured, I had no faith in people. I simply assumed that everyone I dealt with was going to turn on me at some point; I spent a lot of energy anticipating it and preparing my escape routes.
But Amy was different, it felt like I had known her for years, and I knew that I could trust her; knew that she wouldn't lie to me or betray me. Though I didn't understand it, I knew it, like I knew that my dad loved me.
I spent the next half hour, thinking about why that was; and what I could do to keep people from even wondering if she had anything to do with my powers. The best that I could come up with was to define everything as the result of a slow form of self-biokinesis, like what I had read about on PHO, where the Ward Aegis could adapt his body to compensate for any damage or environment, but not as quick. The first step would be to use deception, not exactly lie about it to them maybe, but encourage them to reach false conclusions, such as that all of my enhancements were a part of my Parahuman powers; the next would be to ensure that no one could get a good feel for my powers, what they were or how strong they were, nor could I let anyone give me a physical or medical exam. Lastly, I would claim that any changes that were made to me or my equipment were caused by using my powers, perhaps a form of Tinkering.
I finally decided that if she was still willing to do this for me, I would accept. The stronger I was, the better I could protect myself, and my precious people. Which now seemed to have doubled; dad, like always, and now, oddly enough, Amy.
Did I want to be a hero though? Growing up, Alexandria had been my idol, the cape I most wanted to be like. But now? After finding out about Shadow Stalker, and that the PRT had someone like her in the Wards, plus Armsmaster's behavior was hardly what I would call heroic. I really couldn't see myself being a part of organization that would keep and promote people like that. I certainly wouldn't join any of the cape gangs in town like the Empire or ABB. New Wave was out if only because of the danger to dad, though working with Amy would be nice.
I looked over at Amy and wondered what other options there were? Maybe, once I figured out what powers I had from my Trigger, I could find a non-combat option, something that I could use to earn a decent living at, so that I could help dad with some of our bills. And maybe put together a normal life. Well, maybe not normal, but at least better than what I had been living.
Eventually, as I lay there with my thoughts beginning to go in circles, Amy started to wake up.
"Good morning, sleepy head," I said as she stretched and started to sit up. "There is some breakfast, if you're interested," I said, pointing to the trays next to our beds.
She looked over at it, shrugged and used the controls to raise the back of the bed. "Might as well, it will at least be nutritious, if not particularly tasty."
When I tried to pull the table closer, however, I realized that even that much effort was beyond me. Amy just leaned over me and pulled it across so that we could both reach it, took the covers off and said, "Dig in, you really need some calories."
For the next twenty minutes or so, we just quietly drank the hospital liquid breakfast. Once it was finished, Amy got up, moved the table aside and grabbing a bag out of the closet, quickly dressed herself, not even bothering to turn her back or walk out to the bathroom. After she was done, she tossed her used gown into a bin in the corner and pulled a comfortable looking chair close to the side of my bed.
"Have you thought about my offer?" She asked finally.
"Yes, I have. I'm just not sure what I would do after that. I mean, I can't see joining the Wards. Not after Sophia, Armsmaster and Winslow. I don't think I can let myself be a part of any organization, much less one that dropped the ball that badly. I would rather trust myself than let someone else make decisions for me."
Amy nodded her understanding, saying, "That pretty much leaves either an independent Hero or going Rogue. Each of which has its own advantages and disadvantages."
I agreed, adding, "I suspect that once I figure out what my power is, I will be able to find something I can use it for. Hopefully something that will let me make a living."
"A living? Like Parian or Strider? As a Rogue then, not a Hero? Are you going to go back to school? Maybe you could transfer to Arcadia?" she asked me.
"No, dad has pretty much decided that public school is not going to happen, and I've already started on a homeschooling program. It's actually pretty easy to do, you just have to pass your GED by the time you turn 18. Which is actually simple to do, as long as you follow the guidelines from the State Dept of Education. I much prefer self-study, I am, or at least was, getting more out of it than I ever did from public school."
I paused a moment, before continuing, "There is one thing that I've noticed, that I wanted to talk about, before anything else…"
Amy looked interested, and asked "Like what?"
"I know I've told you how I am becoming more paranoid, right?"
Sadly, she said "I know, and really that's understandable. Between those bitches and the criminal behavior of your school, I'd say that paranoia is actually healthy and normal, if you weren't at least a little paranoid, you really would be crazy."
I snorted at that, almost laughing, but went on, "You're probably right, however, the point I was trying to make is that none of that applies to you, and no offense, but other than my dad, you are the only person I don't expect to turn on me or attack me somehow. And I don't understand it."
Amy stared at me blankly for almost a minute, then said, "Wow…Okay that's something I didn't expect. Uh…let me see if I understand you correctly? You trust me, and don't expect me to attack you? And you find that unusual?"
I nodded and said, "Yep. Pretty much."
Amy sat back and frowned thoughtfully. Finally she said, "Now that you mention it, I have to admit that I've been acting a little off from normal. Because I have never told anyone the things I've told you, about my powers and how I feel. I'm normally quite reserved and sort of private, especially with people I don't know. But not with you. Which means that something is affecting the both of us. Helping us to become more comfortable with each other, much more than is normal for either of us."
I shivered and asked, "Like a Master? Controlling us?"
Amy paled at my comment, but shook her head, "No, I don't think so. I know everyone who has come in this room, and touched them all within the last couple of months. None of them are Parahuman. And if it was you affecting me, I don't think your power would be affecting yourself, as well. Besides, I've been touching you almost nonstop for the last 3 days, and I haven't spotted any significant activity in your Corona Pollentia or Gemma, which means you haven't used your powers, at all."
I asked her then, "So, what? Normal human chemistry?"
Amy smiled, shaking her head again, "No, I would've seen it if that had happened to either of us. That type of attraction is hard to miss, at the moment or later on; the chemical traces in the brain are unmistakable."
Amy paused again, obviously thinking hard, "Maybe…Look, I don't know if this makes sense or is even possible, but maybe it's our powers? Maybe they just blend together really well, kind of like…um…"
"Complements? Where two things blend together to become greater than the two are when separate. Is that what you mean?" I asked.
Amy nodded and sighed, then said, "I suspect we are going to have to look into this on our own, I'm not sure if I would trust anyone to help us without screaming 'Master/Stranger Protocols…Lock 'em up!'"
She smiled at me again, than asked, "Do I have your permission to heal you and make the changes that we discussed? Please be aware that most changes will be gradual, as what we do here will just be the beginning, building the foundation for the rest of the enhancements. I will need to see you at least once a week to monitor and adjust the changes, as well as to continue to add the modifications for the next month or so."
I replied just as formally, "Yes, I give you permission to heal me and make the changes we discussed. You may add or modify any changes as you deem fit."
With that, Amy took my hand in hers and started making changes. This time I could actually feel what was happening, unlike when she had been healing me before. It wasn't painful or even uncomfortable, just… odd. Like some things were moving slightly inside of me.
After about a half an hour, she leaned back and pressed the call button. "I'm going to have more food brought in, a full meal every hour or so. Even though the modifications are going to be over time, it's going to take a lot of food for you to keep up with all of the healing and changes. I have also changed your digestive system to break down any food you eat much faster and more thoroughly, so that you can eat as often as you need to, without any discomfort or problems."
When the nurse came in, Amy explained that she would need full meals for me delivered every hour until further notice, to keep up with the additional healing that was needed. Other than the odd look she gave me, the nurse seemed to take Amy's request in stride and said that she would let the kitchen know what was needed.
While we waited for the meal to be delivered, Amy asked me a whole series of questions that were intended to help figure out just what power I had triggered with. She also had a series of exercises that had been developed by the PRT to help new capes figure out the specifics and limitations of their powers, without the trauma or danger of putting someone into a life-threatening situation in hopes that they would spontaneously figure out what their power was. By the time the tray of food was delivered we had narrowed it down to either a Thinker or a Master ability, possibly both.
-Legion*** Amy ***Legion-
Finishing up the initial healing was going to take time, mostly because Taylor still had so little body mass to work with and she would need to eat a lot of big meals throughout the day to help fuel her healing. Hopefully I would be able to do at least some of the skeletal and muscular changes today, which would help her with preparing for future modifications.
Stopping while Taylor quickly ate her second breakfast, I took the time to pull out my phone and read through the text messages from the last few days. Grimacing at some of them, I sent a couple of quick replies, and then turned my phone off.
"Okay, hopefully that will keep my family off my back for a while longer. I sent them a few texts earlier, letting them know I was dealing with a critical case. If I'm lucky no one will stop by until tomorrow, at the earliest."
Glancing over the tray, I asked, "All done?" At her nod, I picked the tray up and set it on a table just inside the door, before sitting down and taking her hand again. This set the routine for the rest of the day; heal for about 45 minutes, eat for 10-15; lather, rinse, repeat. Around 6:00 pm I was able to start strengthening her skeleton and joints, and converting her muscle tissue to be faster and more efficient.
Finally late in the evening I finally leaned back and simply said, "That's it. At least until tomorrow morning. We need to let everything settle down for the night, and then make any adjustments that you may need in the morning. At that point you should be good to go for at least a few days, maybe as long as a full week. I can get you released by noon, if your dad can pick you up? I'm not letting you take a bus at this point. You should be able make it to the weekend without any problems, though I will expect you to call if anything happens."
I put a stern look on my face and shook my finger at her, "I mean it. Anything odd, call me at once, I don't care if it's about your powers, bad dreams, odd sensations. Anything feels different, you call me. Day or night."
She blinked at the change in my posture and voice, and meekly said, "Okay. Anything odd, I'll call you. I promise."
"Good. Now, I need to update your chart and leave night orders for the staff." I wrinkled my nose and continued, "And see if there are any other crises that need to be dealt with tonight."
Taylor gave me an odd look for a moment, and then asked, "Really? Do they have that many problems that need you to handle?"
I tried to look as normal as I could, but I don't think it worked, "Yes and no. I normally limit myself to only truly terminal cases, with no requests accepted. The biggest exceptions are Endbringer fights, and the Local Protectorate and Wards. If I didn't set some limits, people would be asking me to fix their hangnails and to enhance their 'assets'," I cupped my hands in front of my breasts as I spoke.
"Seriously? People really ask you to do that for them?"
"Not anymore, they don't. I've made it really clear that doctor's spend years learning how to help people get better, and that I was not going to waste my time fixing minor issues or doing cosmetic changes when there were more people than I could heal who could not be healed by normal medicine." I grinned at her, a seriously evil grin, and added, "The last woman who tried to 'convince' me to give her a breast job, changed her mind when I offered her a set of 56EE's and a butt to match."
She goggled at me, "Who was stupid enough to push you to that point?" she asked, awed that Amy had struck back so perfectly.
"Not telling. But she's a Hollywood Reality Star. I don't think she had really thought the whole 'enhancement' idea through, before confronting me."
"I'll say. Serious Monkey Fist there."
"Yep. After that I sat down and wrote up a list of rules that I follow. Some of which are published on New Wave's website. Some of which only I know about."
She nodded at that and whispered, "Brains and Trump, right?"
That surprised me, then I grinned, "Clever girl. There are a couple of others, but yeah, those are the biggies. NO ONE knows about those two, especially not my family and the PRT. Well, except for you."
She reached over and took my hand, "And you know that no one will ever know from me. No one. Ever."
I just looked at her, than realized that with my hand holding hers, I could read her whole body, and knew she was telling the truth, and even more importantly, she knew that, and that's why she had taken my hand, "Damn, girl. You really are smart. And I don't think it has anything to do with your maybe-Thinker power. That's pure Taylor Hebert."
Squeezing her hand, I went on, "Anyway, you try and get some rest while I take care of my paperwork issues and I'll be back soon."
"Alright, I'll try. Don't be long though," she said as she lowered the bed from its sitting position to a more restful, sleeping position.
I picked up the last of the many trays that we, though mostly Taylor, had cleared that day and cycling through the airlock, headed for the central nurse's station. I checked and found only two patients who needed my help, one in CCU and one down in the ER. Taking care of them only took about 10 minutes, so I headed back up to the ICU to start Taylor's paperwork. Writing out the night orders and scheduling her for discharge in the morning only took about 15 minutes.
She was just starting to drift off when I returned, so I stayed quiet, changed into a night gown and climbed into my bed. As I lay down she reached over and took my hand, squeezed it and softly said,
"Good night, Amy."
I gently squeezed back and said, "Night yourself, Taylor."
With that I turned down the lights and finally relaxed and fell asleep.
-Legion*** Taylor ***Legion-
Waking up the next morning was interesting. For the first time in literally months, I actually felt good. No pain, no aching joints or muscles, I wasn't tired. Nothing. In fact, I was feeling like I could get up and run a mile without a problem, maybe even more. Instead I just lay there trying to see if I could feel any of the changes that Amy had made. Other than not feeling bad, I really couldn't, not until I stopped trying to look for changes in how I felt and actually looked at my body, the outside I mean.
Once I did that I could see some pretty obvious changes. My skin wasn't gray and dry; I actually had some muscle tone to my arms and hands, not a lot, but more than I had before the locker. When I pulled my hair around to where I could see it, it was just like before, dark and curly, it actually had some body again, instead of being limp and dry, although it was shorter than before, only just coming down to brush my shoulders. As I realized just how much Amy had done for me I couldn't stop the tears from falling again, although they were tears of happiness and relief, not pain or despair. I managed to get myself back under control before anyone came in, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my gown, which was when I finally realized that even without my glasses I could see. Perfectly, out of BOTH eyes. I hadn't even noticed when she had replaced my missing eye.
In fact, when I sat up and looked around my room, I could see the nurse at her station reading a newspaper; it took a moment because it was upside down from the way she had folded it, but I could easily read the text of one of the stories. I suspected that my new and improved vision was better than 20/20. A lot better. After testing it by successfully looking around the room, checking under the edges of counters and in the shadows, I decided to run some tests on my other senses as well.
I found that I could focus my hearing well enough to hear a doctor giving orders outside the room, not perfectly because I couldn't actually make out his words, but even the soundproofing wasn't completely stopping the sound of his voice.
My sense of smell though, was actually overwhelming. I could smell not just the disinfectant's that they used to clean this room, but the different medicines I had been given, and even what was stored in the cabinets, and a set of odors that took me a few minutes to identify as people smells; they didn't smell bad at all, rather pleasant to be honest, it was just that there were so many of them; me, Amy, the doctors and nurses; it was all rather confusing, although those were fainter since they had been wearing those spacesuits for the last few days. I suspected that with practice I could learn to quickly tell the different ones apart and possible even learn to remember them and possibly follow them. Which would be pretty cool, kind of like being my own bloodhound.
I figured my sense of touch and taste would have to wait until later, probably until I got home. I have to admit that she had done an outstanding job when she had boosted my senses, because with a little experimentation I found that I could easily adjust the, sensitivity of each of my senses at will.
Relaxing after I finished testing myself, I waited for Amy to wake up, figuring that she deserved to sleep as long as she wanted, especially considering how hard and long she had worked to put me back together. Eventually a nurse, who was no longer wearing the blue spacesuit, brought in a two breakfast trays, one after the other, with real food, instead of the usual liquids. She smiled at the sight of Amy sleeping peacefully and quietly put each tray down on its own table before leaving again.
Again, I chose to wait for Amy to wake up before eating, especially since I didn't actually feel hungry, not like I had the day before, when it seemed that I couldn't actually put enough food in my stomach to keep feeling full. About an hour later, as I was finally starting to get sleepy again, Amy stretched and woke up.
"Morning Taylor. How do you feel this morning?" she asked.
"Pretty good actually. I woke up a while ago and couldn't help but notice a few improvements." I held my hand up so she could see it, "Notice the muscle and skin tone? Everything is like this." I reached out and pulled her into a hug, "Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything." Letting her go, I tapped my eyes and ears, but didn't say anything. Not out loud, but she could clearly see the gratitude in my eyes.
As she adjusted the bed so she was sitting up, I pulled my tray table over with almost no effort, feeling as strong as I had ever felt, so that I could reach the food and begin eating. Following my lead, she did the same, but just sighed at the sight of the hospital breakfast.
"I swear, I've had more of these breakfasts than I can count. I know that they're healthy and balanced nutritinally, but really, I'd rather have a bowl of Cheerios or Life instead."
I laughed at her, but just kept eating the food, enjoying it, even cold, after all of the liquid meals I had eaten recently.
Taking our time, we finished everything on the trays before setting them aside. Amy then took my hands and adjusted my metabolism and immune system so that I would continue to heal at an accelerated rate, explaining just what she was doing as she did it. I found that I could actually feel the changes as she made them, almost seeing the actual movement of the cells and the changes to my systems. I didn't actually understand what she was doing, but I could feel it.
I also felt it when she put in a kind of mental 'switch' that would let me turn the enhanced metabolism on and off at will. Once she was done, she had me try the switch several times until she was sure that it was under my complete control.
"Okay, try to deactivate your appetite, both it and the rest of your accelerated metabolism should turn off when you do."
It took me over a dozen tries, even with Amy's coaching, before I managed to turn off my appetite the way she wanted me to. Turning it all back on was just as hard; however once I had succeeded, it became easier each time I did it. I spent the next 10 minutes or so just practicing turning my accelerated digestion and metabolism on and off, before Amy was satisfied that it was firmly under my control.
Implementing the latest changes and ensuring that I had full control of my systems took us until almost 10:00 am. When we had finished with all of our work, Amy got up and dressed herself, then headed out to the nurse's station to start my discharge process and call my dad.
While she took care of the paperwork, a doctor and two nurses came in to check me over, apparently for legal reasons, as well as to pull out the various tubes and disconnect all of the sensors that were stuck to my body, something I hoped to never have to do again; it was slightly painful and quite embarrassing. After they were done, one of the nurses brought in a bag of my clothes that my dad had left for me. She helped me with another sponge bath, though this time I was able to wash myself, except for my back, which was a definite improvement. Getting dressed was a lot easier than it had been before, and all she had to do was hand me the next item I needed to put on.
After dressing myself, the nurse carefully helped me out of the bed for the first time in almost a week; I was a definitely a lot stronger than I had been a week ago, but I still got shaky as I tried to do anything. Whether standing or walking, I was only good for a few minutes before I needed to sit and rest. But at least I was able to recover my strength faster, as it only took a few minutes to rest up before I could move again. As I practiced, it quickly became obvious that although I was better than before, I still had a long way to go before I was truly able to say that I had completely recovered.
While I was sitting to catch my breath, Amy came back in, with my dad right behind her.
"Dad!" I exclaimed, standing up as he grabbed me into a hug.
"Hey kiddo, you're looking a lot better than before." He turned and looked at Amy, "I guess I have you to thank for this. So, thank you again. If you ever need anything, just call. If I can't do it, I'll find someone who can. Doesn't matter what it is, you ask and it's yours."
Amy looked a bit embarrassed by dad's words, but simply said, "Mr. Hebert it was no problem. Taylor was a very good patient, and she really needed my help, so…" She just shrugged. "It's what I do. And she deserved the best that I could do for her. I've already gotten her discharge paperwork started so she should be ready to leave shortly."
With a quick smile for me she turned to leave, but then turned back to hand me a small piece of folded paper. "Taylor, here's my contact info. Remember what I said before; call me right away if you notice anything off, okay?"
I let go of dad and pulled Amy into a hug, "Thank you, I don't have a cell phone, but I'll send you an email with all my info as soon as I get home."
About then a nurse brought in a wheelchair for me, which to be honest I was grateful for. As I sat down, Amy handed my dad a thick packet of papers and took the handles and started wheeling me towards the exit. Without any delays, we left the ward, took the elevator down to the main level, and headed towards the exit. Once we got to the exit, dad left to bring the car up and Amy pulled out her phone to send a quick text.
As she finished, she said, "I asked Vicky to pick me up and take me to school. Remember, call or text me any time, for any reason, okay?"
Grabbing her hand, I said, "I will. And you remember to take it easy, alright? Call me if you need anything, to talk, to vent, even if you need to get away for a while."
Looking out the glass doors and seeing Glory Girl coming in for a landing, I remembered something she had mentioned once before, about Vicky's tendency to try a guilt her into double-dates, "And if she tries to set you up with another double date, tell her you already have one, then call me so I can meet you. We can go see a movie or go shopping or get something to eat. Anything really, just don't let her try to guilt you into anything you don't want to do."
She just looked out at her sister, and sighed, "I'll try, it's just that, she's the only one of my family who even tries to be there for me." She chuckled softly, "Even if she really sucks at it. At least she tries."
"Good point. Still, if you don't want to go on another, what did you call it?" I gave her a sidelong look, "Date from hell, then use me as an excuse. Trust me, I won't mind at all."
She just gave me a quick hug, then walked out through the doors and let her sister pick her up and take off into the sky. I watched for a couple of minutes until they were out of sight, by which time dad had pulled up and was coming in to get me. It only took a minute to get me into the car and for him to return the wheelchair inside, before we started for home.
Once we had left the hospital proper, dad finally asked me, "So how are you really feeling? I have to admit, you look amazing, especially with how you looked before."
"Good. Really good. Amy…"
He interrupted me, "Amy? You call Panacea, Amy?"
"It is her name, you know. Besides, she asked me to. Considering that we pretty much shared a bed for the last week, even if I don't remember most of it, formality would have been pretty pointless."
"Oh, okay. Wait… you shared a bed? Why?" He glanced over at me and grinned, "And is there something you want to tell me? Hmmm?"
"Daaad! It wasn't like that," I didn't whine, really. "Mostly, from what she told me, whatever was wrong with me, the infections I mean, pretty much required constant monitoring and correction. It took her three days to actually fix the worst of them, and then another to restore me to normal." I paused a moment in thought, then went on, "At least mostly. She boosted my digestive system and metabolism so that I can keep healing for the next month or so. In fact, somewhere in that pile of papers she gave you should be a recommended diet that I need to eat. She warned me that I will need to eat a lot more than normal, about two to three times normal, so expect our grocery bills to be higher for the next month or so. After that it should settle back to normal."
"I see. And she boosted both your digestive system and your metabolism, right? So you will be getting even more out the food you eat, than most people do?"
"Yep. She actually started it yesterday, and had me eating a full meal every hour, on the hour, from about eight in the morning until eleven last night. She just needed to make sure I had enough nutritional energy to let her force my body to heal properly. As she explained it to me, some healers can actually generate biomass to replace any lost due to injury or illness, but that she can only work with what the patient has. Which meant that one of the first things she did was have them start giving me transfusions and constant IV feedings."
"And that was so she had the material to actually heal you with, right?"
"Uh huh," I answered, semi-coherently as I found myself distracted by the colors that I could now see and all of the detail I was noticing for the first time with my improved vision.
"Hah, sounds like TANSTAAFL."
"Tenstaffle?" I turned back to my dad, "What language is that? German? Russian? What does it mean?"
"It's from a book your mother made me read back in college; The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. It's not from a different language, it's actually an acronym, it means: There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. That there is nothing for free, you always have to pay for what you get, one way or another. You should read the book; it's actually quite good, even if it was written back in the sixties."
"Sixties? Fifty years ago? Seriously?"
He looked over at me and smiled, "Seriously. It really is a good book, even if it was written long before Scion showed up and cape powers appeared."
Not long after that, we pulled into our driveway and with only a little help, I made my way into the house and took a seat on the sofa to rest. Dad dropped the papers on table, and headed into the kitchen.
"Should I assume that you are getting hungry now, or do I have some time before your stomach starts to growl?"
"Now would be good, though I can wait if you need to pick up some food," I called back.
"Tuna fish okay?" He asked me.
"Sure, as long as there is enough for both of us."
"There's plenty, I made some up last night. Two sandwiches do for you?"
"You're kidding, right? I'll probably need at least four, depending on what else we have to go with it," I answered back as I came into the kitchen, hoping to set the table while dad made the sandwiches. Getting a couple of plates and cups out of the cupboard, I took them to the table before opening the fridge looking for some juice or milk.
Dad just shook his head and placed the first two sandwiches on my plate and went back to making more toast. "There should be some macaroni salad on the bottom shelf of the fridge," he told me. "Just set it on the table and we can dish it up as we go."
"Okay," I replied, looking again in the fridge, and finding it behind some soda bottles.
After he had finished making our sandwiches, he grabbed a couple of forks and a serving spoon and we sat down and started eating. I think, even after telling him how much I would need to eat, it shocked him to see me not only clear my plate, but get up and make another two sandwiches before he had even finished his first one. He just shook his head in disbelief and went back to eating. Finally, after four sandwiches, two large helpings of macaroni salad and three glasses of milk, I actually felt full, though I wondered how long that would last.
When we had both finished eating, dad started leafing through the papers he had brought home while I cleared the table and put all the perishables away. After rinsing the dishes, I put them in the dishwasher and left them until later. Figuring that I could run it after dinner, I left the kitchen and went back to the living room, thinking that I could do some reading and take a nap if I got too tired.
A few minutes later, dad came out with the sheet of recommended foods and handed to me, asking me,
"Let me know which of these things appeal to you, and I'll pick some up after work."
I grabbed a pencil and started marking the items that I thought would be easiest to make, as well as least expensive, figuring that I could work up a menu of easy meals once I had some basics to work with. I made a point of choosing things that could be worked into several meals, ones that we both would enjoy, figuring that I could make simple meals to snack on during the day, and save the major meal for dinner when both of us would be eating. I also planned on making lunch in the morning, so that dad could at least enjoy some of what we needed to buy for me.
After I finished the list, dad gave me a hug and headed off to work and I sat down at my computer and pulled out the assignments I had been working on when Armsmaster and Miss Militia had interrupted me last week.
I ended up working for almost two hours, before my stomach started growling and I realized that I was hungry again. Sighing, I went into the kitchen and started a can of beef vegetable soup then pulled out the salad from earlier and finished it off while the soup heated up. Checking the bread box revealed that there were only the end pieces left, so I just buttered them and had them with the soup and some water.
After I had finished eating, I cleaned up my mess and started putting together something for dinner. Based on what we had in the cupboards and the freezer, I decided that my best bet was a mostly vegetarian chili, because while there was only one small steak in the freezer, I had plenty of beans and veggies. The steak may have been a bit freezer burned, but I figured that once it had a chance to simmer in the pot for a few hours it would be more than tender enough. Browning the meat while I assembled the rest of the chili only took about ten minutes, after which I just left on the stove with the burner turned on LOW. Other than stirring it once or twice an hour, it was pretty much done until dad and I were ready to eat.
Heading back out to the living room, I took a look over my school work and decided that I had reached a good point for stopping, saved it and closed up all of my files. I put my books away on the shelves. I was trying get into the habit of being organized, of always putting things away when I was done with them.
I sat back down on the sofa and started working through the exercises Amy had shown me, quickly finding that I could see the lights and hear the sounds that the doctors had originally told me were side effects from my infections; and that I had feared were just proof of my insanity, although Amy had been very clear that they were nothing of the sort. She explained that those types of minor hallucinations were caused by micro-scars on the brain, and that by the time she had finished eliminating all of the infections and healing the residual damage, there was nothing like that remaining.
As for my fear of insanity, she swore that my brain chemistry was fine, a little more active than most non-capes, but still well within the normal range. As far as she could tell, and she had a lot of experience at seeing people with all types brain chemistry, I was fine.
Although nothing seemed really clear yet, I could tell that I was seeing something. I still wasn't sure if it was a Thinker ability, which seemed to cover enhanced senses as well as clairvoyance and precognition, or if it was a type of Master ability, where I was actually using the senses of others, either animal or human.
I decided to concentrate on just vision, and see if I could focus it down to only one thing, since it seemed to be an almost kaleidoscope of images, that constantly moved.
Doing this was a lot harder than it sounded, as well as much more tiring. So much so that I could only do it for ten minutes or so, before I needed to take a break and relax before I could try again. After every two attempts, I would go into the kitchen and carefully stir the chili, before making another attempt. Finally, just before five o'clock, I actually had a momentary success, when my vision snapped into focus for just a few seconds, letting me see the outside of the house, from nearly ground level. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that I was seeing through the eyes of what was probably a cat or a small dog. I couldn't tell for sure because I lost the connection before I could really see anything except the side of the house.
"Okay, that's pretty much a Master ability. Next I'll have to see if I can make whatever creature I am seeing through do anything. If so, that will definitely make it a Master ability. Then I can see what types of animals I can connect with, and take it from there."
Looking at the time, I decided that rather than do any more work on my parahuman power, I would just write up my conclusions and plans, then make some biscuits or rice to go with the chili, maybe both. Taking about 5 minutes, I wrote everything up on a simple text file and saved it to a flash drive that had come with the computer. A moments thought convinced me that, though the original impulse was just from my paranoia, it still made good sense. For now I kept the flash drive in the folder with the software disks, figuring that I could find a better hiding place later.
Ensuring that everything was put away and properly shutdown, I headed to the kitchen to begin my final preparations for dinner. Taking a look through the cupboards I found a large bag of rice, as well as everything I would need to make a scratch batch of drop biscuits. Setting the bag of rice to the side since it would only take about 15 minutes to make; I started mixing the biscuit dough so that it could rise for a bit before dad got home. Just before six o'clock, dad pulled into the driveway and came into the house with the first armload of groceries.
-Legion*** Danny ***Legion-
As Danny left the house to head into a short day at work, he paused, worried about leaving Taylor alone the first day home from the hospital, but taking a deep breath, he forced himself to get in the car and drive away.
I have to trust that she'll call for help if she needs it, and honestly she looks better than she has in a long time. Panacea really is a miracle healer.
I pulled into an empty spot outside my office, parked the car and headed in. As I walked through the doors, I greeted some of the other workers, stopping occasionally to explain that Taylor was home again, and feeling much better. I finally was able to get to my office and began working through some of the backed up work from this morning. Fortunately, I had been able to spend most of Sunday catching up on my backlog, so there was only a little bit left to do.
I worked diligently for almost two hours, clearing my desk of everything that I could finish today, so I would have time to make a phone call that I was both looking forward to, and fearing what I might hear.
I pulled out the card, dialed the number and waited.
"Miss Militia, how may I help you?"
"Miss Militia, this is Danny Hebert, is this a good time to talk?"
"Certainly Mr. Hebert, in fact I was about to call you to give you an update."
"All right, what's up?"
"First, as I'm sure you know, Panacea finished healing your daughter this morning, and has declared that all of her physical injuries and illness have been successfully treated. In addition, she expects her to continue to improve and will be checking up on her periodically to ensure that."
"Yes, she was very clear when I spoke with her this morning. Taylor is happy to be home again, and was working on her schoolwork when I left."
"I'm glad to hear that. Secondly, this concerns the legal issues, so please keep it to yourself, at least until the investigation is finished and the warrants are ready to be served; Shadow Stalker has already been transferred to a Simurgh Containment Zone, and contrary to her current belief, she will be facing many additional charges in due time."
"Good, she deserves that and more."
"Indeed. As for the school, that is a bit more … difficult. We are coordinating with the Brockton Bay PD, and making sure that everyone who is interviewed is thoroughly gagged, and well aware of just how severe the consequences will be if anyone at all finds out about the investigation. The PD can't enforce that level of silence, but the PRT can…and will. Two people within the PRT have been found guilty of covering up Shadow Stalker's actions, and they have implicated several members of Winslow's faculty as well. It's at least a good starting point."
"All right, what's next then?"
"Certified copies of all depositions and evidence are being prepared for you, so that you will be able to file any civil suits you wish. Personally, I hope that you do; your daughter, Taylor, suffered horribly, and she is owed compensation from those who wronged her."
"Well, I am already intending to bring civil suit against the school, faculty and the girls, or their families, who were involved in the vicious attack that Taylor suffered, as well as the prolonged bullying campaign. I am still uncertain about the PRT though, I mean, I'm not sure how much you could know of what was going on at Winslow, since most of the Wards go to Arcadia. They do, right? Go to Arcadia I mean."
There was a long pause before she continued, "Please don't discuss this with anyone else, but no, normally some of the Wards would be attending Arcadia, while others would be assigned elsewhere. However, here in Brockton Bay the decision was made four years ago to consolidate the Wards. It simplifies many things, not the least of which is protecting the Wards civilian IDs and maintaining proper oversight. However, Shadow Stalker was very clever in preventing her transfer, for reasons that are now clear. That has led to some charges that she will find impossible to refute, which carry very long prison terms."
"Good. Is there anything else I should know about?"
"Perhaps. Of all the staff and faculty at Winslow, only two have been truly cooperative, and so far in our investigation we have found that both of them had complained about the bullying Taylor was suffering, but had been threatened to keep them quite. How that will work out for them in the end, I cannot say."
"Interesting. Well, if there's nothing else, I'll let you get back to your work and I'll get back to mine."
"Very well, have a nice day."
Hanging up the phone, I stood and left my office to check on how things were going in the shops, as I planned to leave a little early today so that I could pick up some groceries, because if Taylor needed as much food as she ate for lunch, we had nowhere near enough at home.
Around 4:30 I left for the grocery store. I intended to make it a fairly quick stop; working off the list I had, I tried to pick up most of the items Taylor had circled.
Even so, I still didn't get home until just after 6:00 pm. Opening the back door, I brought the first load of groceries in and set them on the table.
-Legion*** Taylor ***Legion-
"Evening Taylor, something smells good. What's for dinner?" dad asked as he set the bags on the table.
"Chili, with rice and biscuits on the side. What did you get, and how much more is there?" I replied as I started emptying the bags and putting away the food.
"Just a couple more loads, I figure that we can write up a proper list and do a full shopping trip on Saturday. That will give me a chance to see just how much we'll need to get, as well as clean out the cupboards and fridge before we go."
"Sounds like a plan to me. I can tell you already that I'm going to need to learn how to bake bread; because I need to eat so much, that it would be a lot cheaper to bake it myself, rather than buy it."
"Plus, home baked goods always taste better than store-bought." He set down the next load and asked, "Do we need to pick up a good cookbook?" He paused a moment in thought, then went on, "I'm pretty sure that, other than your mom's recipe cards we don't actually have a one."
"I think you're right, at least I don't remember seeing one on the book shelves. I will need to look through her cards and see what I can do with them while making up a grocery list." I replied. Even before the locker, I had been cooking most of our meals, usually using mom's recipe cards or ideas from some PBS cooking shows. Given how much I needed to eat now, making the effort to really learn how to cook, even if it was just being able to follow the recipes in a cookbook, would be worth my time. I would have to check the library or some used bookstores to see what I could find.
When dad brought in the last load, he told me he would finish putting them away so that I could finish making dinner. As he put the last of the groceries away, he got out my meal sheet and a note pad and started writing up a shopping list.
Starting the rice first, I turned on the oven and started dropping the biscuit dough onto our two cookie sheets while he told me how his day at the Dock Workers Association had gone. When he finished, I told him what I had done that afternoon, leaving out my cape practice.
I figured that I wouldn't tell him about being a cape until I had a good grasp on my powers, what I could do with them, as well as what I intended to do with them. Dad was a proud man and I wasn't sure how he would take it if I told him I wanted to use my powers to make money to contribute to the family finances. Speaking of which, I might have to withdraw my application for disability, because with all the healing that Amy given me, I couldn't see how I would still qualify.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided to wait and see. At the very least I would talk to my friends at the Central Library and see if they had any advice. So far, they hadn't steered me wrong, and I hoped that they wouldn't do so now.
Over dinner I described how I wanted to start exercising, at least a little, so that as I healed and got better, I would be able to get into better shape. Dad was a little concerned at first, but I set his mind at ease when I explained that I just planned on starting with simple stretches and calisthenics and working up to walking around the block and eventually building up to a jog, I figured that would be enough for now.
Dad complimented me on dinner, although he did tease me a bit over how much I had made as well as how much I ate. I just shrugged it off and explained that I had planned for plenty of left-overs, since I apparently needed to snack every couple of hours, even with big meals. I also asked him if it was okay if I made big casseroles and soups, instead of the types of meals that I normally made, and if so, did he have any preferences. He suggested a few items, but mostly left it up to me. After dinner, dad put away the left-overs while I cleaned up the kitchen and started the dishwasher.
After the clean-up was finished, we sat down in the living room and watched tv for a while, before heading to bed around nine o'clock. I took a minute to remember how to turn my metabolism back down, and found that as soon as I had done so, I started to fall asleep without any tossing or turning.