There are some minor inconsistencies in chapter 7 that has been now fixed. Basically, Taylor didn't fix her radiation poisoning back then. Also, this will be the last chapter I post on ff dot net. I don't understand how the formatting work. In this chapter, some of Taylor dialogue was supposed to be in another font, but that apparently not an option. This is just going to get worse once I want to write PHO sections. So, please consider checking out the Spacebattles or Sufficient Velocity versions, where updates will continue.

Tuesday. 7th of December, 2010

Parian's Doll House was not quite what I expected. Then again, I'm not sure what I expected; an actual, life-sized doll house, maybe? Instead, what I found was a little white-painted storefront unassumingly tucked away on a small street.

I spotted the tourists, gawkers, and cape chasers loitering outside the boutique from afar. Heads turned and people huddled together as I approached. I felt their stares on me as I passed, heard the barely intelligible hushed whispers behind me. The callback to Winslow was not lost on me, yet it was not an exact reflection. They squirmed and shrunk into themselves as my goggled eyes swept across them. They were afraid.

I wished Eve was here with me. The bundle of perky, occasionally murderous pyrotechnics would absorb all this attention with her antics and wouldn't even notice it. Alas, she had found my sewing kit and gotten hell bent on making a cape out of her trophy shirts by herself. She was so absorbed in it that I simply didn't have the heart to interrupt her. So I left her to her own devices, hoping that the needles survived the ordeal.

Without Eve with me, I had to take the full brunt of this unwanted attention. Admittedly, being feared was infinitely better than being the butt of hundreds of unspoken jokes. It was kinda enjoya-stop.

Shut up. Think heroic thoughts.

The Doll House's entrance had a sign mounted on one of its wooden doors. It read "Harassers will be evicted."

Stopping to confirm that I did bring the cash, I pushed on the door. Its opening was accompanied by the chime of a shopkeeper's bell.

The Doll House's interior was like a fashion boutique as seen through Barbie-fied Victorian goggles. I had to suppress a squeak when I spotted Parian. The doll cape was working at the far end of the building, beyond the clothes racks and display mannequins. Fabrics, thread and needles twirled and flew around her like dancers moving to her unheard tune.

"Sir, I'll have to ask you to state your business." A Russian-tinted voice called to my left. I turned and saw a large man dressed up in a black suit looking at me. He was as tall as I was but with much more bulk. His head sported a neat buzzcut, like those soldiers in movies.

"I'm...uh...I'm here to buy a costume?" The man's eyes narrowed and he nodded. Aside from the miniscule pause at the sound of my voice, he remained stoic.

"Do you have an appointment?"

Shit! I did not. Of course I would need an appointment. Parian couldn't just talk to every hoodie-clad teenager barging into her workshop. That was stupid!

"I'll take it from here, Sergey. Keep up the good work."

I turned to the new voice and promptly froze as my eyes took in the curly blond locks and frilly white dress. Parian was right behind me! Her porcelain mask nodded at the guard, who grunted an affirmative and returned to staring at the entrance. The fashionista then turned to me, her head cocked in curiosity. It was hard to judge with so much of her covered, but her body language conveyed friendliness.

"Hello there, you said you wanted a costume? You're a cape then, yes?" It took a second or two for her question to successful lodge into my head.

"I..um..yes? I'm a cape, so yeah!" I honestly had no idea what was wrong with me. One moment I could pull enough charisma to talk the pants off Alexandria from nowhere, and the next I was stammering like an idiot.

Parian giggled and turned around, gesturing for me to follow her into the back.

"You're in luck! Normally I insist on clients calling in advance to make an appointment before visiting. But I'll make an exception for you since I really need something to distract me from this commision." The last part was said with a huff and one thumbed jabbed over her shoulder at a mannequin dressed in what looked like the beginning of an actual Disney princess gown, all bright pink and ribbony. "So! I understand if you don't want to, but if you can demonstrate, that would really help me."

"Oh… I...well, I'm a tinker. Not sure how I can do that here."

"A tinker, huh?" The doll girl cupped her chin in one hand and hummed. "I don't usually get your type around here. Don't tinkers usually do it themselves?"

"I'm a healer, I know how to patch people up, fix injuries, perform surgery. Improve people." I explained, conveniently leaving out the more...questionable aspects. After all, that was what I decided to reveal to the Protectorate. An exceptional yet still comprehensible specimen instead of, well… me.

Parian nodded professionally, but her posture shifted slightly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the guard, Sergey, glancing over for a split second, "I see. We can aim for that doctor look then, there's a few lab coats and Hewey coats that I keep in the backroom for reference. Do you have any particular idea in mind?"

I nodded. "There's a few design concepts from the internet that I like. I think I want to go for a classical look. Perhaps the same era as your?"

"A connoisseur!" She laughed, relaxing slightly. "Let's get to it, shall we?"

"So, are you sure about this?" Parian asked from where she stood behind me, one hand resting on her hip while the other cupped her chin.

"Why? Is it bad?" I smiled at the sound coming from the mask's modulator. My voice was how I imagined an angel would sound: beautiful and alien. It carried a musical quality to it, the pitch and tone of each syllable tuned to put the listener at ease. Between each was a deliberate disconnect, an otherness, so that one simply didn't flow well into the next. An overall monotone to the always shifting voice. Wouldn't want people going nuts about me Mastering them with a very nicely edited voice.

It had taken more than an hour to get the frequencies just right, but it was definitely worth it.

"No, no… It's just…" She hummed and circle me, "Unconventional. I love the design, don't get me wrong, Just that I don't usually work on something like this."

I shrugged and turned toward the mirror. My costume was a direct homage to both Panacea and the equally intrepid and misguided plague doctors of yesteryear. The black, ankle-length robe had been replaced with a white shoulder cape with red trimmings and a trench coat of the same color combination that parted at the waist. The pants were kept mostly unchanged, waxed black leather that ended in a pair of heavy boots. Similarly, my head were covered by the tight hood of my undershirt and the steel gray visage of the iconic beaked mask. Rounding off the costume was a short staff tipped with the Hippocrates symbol and a white wide-brimmed fedora.

The mask itself was particularly eye-catching. It mixed the classical bird mask with a modern gas mask which, of course, provided protection against conventional gas attack. The eyes were done to my prescription with the help of an awfully convenient tinkertech glass cutter and, at my insistence, had a blue glow to them.

Watching Parian putting everything together was equally fascinating and frustrating. Fascinating in watching the soundless orchestra of needles and fabric forming and unravelling themselves under her masterful guidance. Frustrating because they were just so many techniques she could have used but didn't, and I couldn't help her because that would mess with my story.

"I guess it is a little odd." Certainly couldn't be the strangest thing out there, though. Narwhal went around wearing forcefields. Literally just forcefields.

"Quite. By the way, you aaaaare a hero, right?"

I blink and turned toward her, the glow of my eyes casting a blue hue on her porcelain visage.

"Of course. What make you think otherwise?" I was wearing all white, wasn't I?

"...No reason! To be honest, it's a breath of fresh air. It's all spandex and contemporary these days," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "Anyway, I can reinforce it with a tinkertech fiber for an extra fee. Are you interested?"

I blinked and checked my pocket. I did have a sizable sum left. "What can I expect?"

"It's guaranteed to stop conventional blades cold as long as the wielder isn't a Brute. Good protection against bullets, getting shot by small arms would just feel like a nasty punch. It would still protect you against larger calibers, but it isn't rated for that," she explained.

I nodded and mulled over the description. "Not to sound ungrateful, but it's not top of the line."

"You're right. I can put in order for more expensive material if you want, but it'll take up to a couple weeks. I only stock this since it's a nice compromise between price and quality."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. I was just thinking I could perhaps supply something better."

Parian looked at me, her exact expression still too well concealed under all that cover. But I could somehow just imagined a raised eyebrow on her.

"I thought you're a healer?"

"Well, I'm flexible with what I do." I replied sheepishly. I didn't sound sheepish, though. I didn't sound like anything at all.

The fashion designer rogue kept drilling into me with that same deadpan pose and eyeless stare, before shrugging. "Well, as long as it's not people spun into thread, I think we can work out a deal."

Vy iz effery vun such prude… Human leether iz exellenze ven treated right.

"I guess I can make an exception for Nazis, though."

Ha, kommon ground!

"No. No. I would never." I imagined my actual voice was much higher pitched and uncomfortable. Thankfully, the mask modulated it into the musical monotone. "But yes. I would like the reinforcement installed. May I watch?"

"I don't see why not. Come, I'm sure I can give you some idea for how this work if you do want to supply me."

"I would love that."

They say life is all about learning. You fuck up, learn something you never knew, then hopefully you can use that to avoid fucking up the next time. Today, I learnt two things: One, I preferred going out with Eve because she was an attention magnet. Two, it was really awkward to walk from the Boardwalk to Brockton Bay General wearing my full ensemble. In hindsight, it wasn't the most subtle of get ups, but by God they stared!

The experience wasn't exactly unpleasant. It was true that I didn't like to be at the center of attention. But once I dipped a little bit into the asylum of insanity at the back of my head for that extra bit of confidence and stability, it mostly just felt surreal. Especially when I took the bus. I had the ingenious plan of using my bus pass before realizing that it was Taylor Hebert's pass. Then I decided to pay in cash. Except, the smallest bills I were carrying were hundred dollar notes.

I was never so glad that I had a mask that let me cheat my way out of a staring contest, because that elderly driver was good. After tentatively accepting my payment and a full five minutes of trying to raise the change from other passengers-a task that I suspected to have been expedited by my presence-I had to sit through a very uncomfortable ten minute ride.

At least I got a double seat, that was a happy break.

I got off at the hospital stop and managed a grand total of three steps before a white human missile descended to a perfect three point landing right in front of me.

Glory Girl's rising was a deliberate thing, each motion perfectly calculated to radiate threat and heroism. The unseen pressure crashed against the wall of my mind, and I met it with the grace of a mountain.

"You better explain yourself, buddy." She demanded, one finger poked me with enough force to send me back. "My sister's in there right now and if you make her day any more difficult, I'll sprinkle you over the East Coast after I'm through."

Wait, she didn't recognize me?

Well, yeah, this was a bit of a drastic shift from the paper-thin mask I wore the last time we met.

"Glory Girl, it's me. I-" The New Wave heroine's face immediately fell into a grimace.

"Oh no no no! I don't care if this is some revenge scheme! If you want payback for that one time I kicked you through a dumpster or kicked a dumpster through you or whatever, you're gonna need to provide a specific date and time, then take a number and get in line! One that doesn't involve a fucking hospital!"

I blinked. "Wait, we met on Wednesday. You were fighting my partner and I intervened."

That made Glory Girl reel back and frown. Then she tilted her head and frowned harder.

Taking the opportunity, I reached under my mask and turned off the modulator. "It's me! I was just testing some vocal settings."

Recognition flooded into her face and the pressure against my mind waned. She leaned over, legs leaving the ground slightly to get a closer look on me.

"You're...What on Earth are you wearing? Why are you a creepy knock-off of my sister?"

"Wha-what?" I sputtered indignantly even as I reached under the mask to turn the modulator back on. "I'm paying homage to both Panacea and the people whose work played a role in setting the foundation of modern medicine."

"...Oookay! Never mind that. Why do you have that voice?"

"It's designed to be audibly pleasant but not too much to be considered mind-altering." I defended.

"It sounds like a killer robot is having a S&M session with my inner ears." I cocked my head, the imagery causing my brain to lag a little in visualizing it. It wasn't that bad, was it? Did what she described constitute a bad thing?

Hoo boys! Hyu iz family 'right.

We are so proud of you! Young people these day hardly know how to dress appropriately.

I groaned and buried my face in my arm, the motion somewhat hampered by my beak. Good job, me.

"Hey now, it's not that bad!" Glory Girl's laugh was a little forced. She tossed an arm over my shoulders and gave me a gigawatt smile. "You just need to give people notice beforehand, you know."

I let out something between a laugh and a snort. The mask then twisted that sound into something...different. Glory Girl's eyes twitched just a bit.

"Well! Let's take you to see my sister. Come on! She's usually in ER around now." Before I could get in a 'yes, let's', the blonde hooked an arm under mine and dragged me off toward the hospital. "By the way, do you have a name yet?"

"No. I'm still thinking about it."

Glory Girl turned around and scanned me from head to toe, one hand idly scratching at her cheek. "Well, since the classic 'Hey, you' is gonna get confusing after awhile….How 'bout Beaky?"

"Beaky?"

"Yep! Call it incentive for finally picking a name already." Her equally radiant and shit-eating grin was something special. I half-suspected she practiced it just for the sole purpose of screwing with people.

"Wha-"

"Ohey there she is!" My head snapped toward where she pointed. It didn't take much effort to find Panacea. Her iconic long, white robe and red cross stood out amongst the ER's miserable atmosphere.

The world-renowned healer turned toward us just as Glory Girl came to a stop with me in tow. Panacea eyed me wearily before cracking a tired smile at her sister.

"Amy, this is Beaky, your creepy but not evil knock-off. Beaky, Amy, the original," was Glory Girl's way of introducing us. Panacea turned to me, her lips quivered slightly.

"My sister mentioned you. " She greet cordially. "Beaky?"

"Events happening between my meeting with Glory Girl and the present are somewhat surreal." The healer flinched, then snorted and rolled her eyes.

"That's Hurricane Victoria alright." Her tone of voice suggested veterancy in this matter. "Sorry about that. My sister is… excitable."

The last part was delivered with a glare at the other Dallon. It was fascinating, watching the unflappable teenage goddess shrink into herself under the mousy brunette's gaze. She let out a few sheepish chuckles, which only served to make Amy harden her gaze.

"No, it's fine, really." I spoke up, deciding to pay back Glory Girl's favor. "It is a honor to meet you."

Panacea's cheeks flushed slightly, obviously unused to praise,"Oh...um, thanks!… Really, I'm just glad to have another hand around here."

"Oh. I'm not allowed to help yet until after this Saturday. The PRT is leery on the whole thing."

"Yeah, don't they always." She agreed with a smile. "Still, let's me show you around. I do the ER first, but I'm done there, so we're heading to Intensive Care."

I smiled and fell into step behind her. Glory Girl had dropped out of her hover and choose instead to walk by her sister's side.

Watching Panacea working was such a treat! She would approach a patient and lay a hand on bare skin and immediately know what was wrong with their body. Then she narrated it, more for my sake then hers, about the process she was taking the body through to mend it. It was fascinating how much knowledge she could glean with just a touch and the ease with which she simply commanded the flesh to mend. Bacteria and virus were simply told to die, immune systems invigorated at a whim, flesh and bones flowed like clay under a master's hand.

The best parts were the ones with visible wounds. Those, I got to see for myself her handiwork instead of simply being told what was happening through her words and the monitoring equipment. It was inspiring! Perhaps it was for the best that Eve wasn't here, I didn't know if I could resist commandeering an operating theater and immediately get to the SCIENCE!

There was also something else. Something much less exciting and a whole lot more worrying. Panacea seemed off. Tired and weary, and not the kind that came from a long day. There was a whole lot less passion than I expected. She was going through the same motions: come, ask for permission to heal, then heal because Darwin made sure anyone who would refuse got culled from the gene pool long ago. People would thank her, and she just move on, occasionally cracking a tired smile.

After ICU, Panacea started to go through her waitlist. These were the patients whose modern medicine could not help, but who were not in risk of immediate death. Aside from the different subjects, her routine was the same. She came, asked for permission when applicable (What's up with that, anyway?), then move on.

Glory Girl didn't say much throughout the walk, instead settled for frowning all through it. It was odd, seeing the blonde spitfire so still and calm. Did she notice the routine too?

It was an hour into this that we were approached by an Asian woman in a nurse uniform. She was around Dad's age at first glance, with much of the same weariness and worldly weight that added a few decades to their years.

"Miss Panacea!" She called out. "Lovely meeting you tonight. Have you been working late again?"

"Mrs Baker…" Panacea's voice suggested an acquaintanceship, but I also heard a tiny bit of...guilt? Yes, guilt, under it. "I was just leaving."

"Uh huh…" The nurse didn't sound convinced at all. "When was the last time you ate?"

The white-robed healer's stomach decided to answer the question for her with a low rumble.

"Amy Dallon." Glory Girl started, suddenly back to her boisterous self again. Her feet lifted off the ground and both hands rested on her hips as she stared down at the brunette."Did you skip dinner?"

The mousy girl avoided her sister's eyes, shrinking into herself. "Well, you know… "

"I KNOW what I said about skipping dinner, do you? "

"It's not good for your health… "

Glory Girl nodded imperiously crossed her arms. "Good, then we're getting you dinner right now!"

"Oh, no need for that." Mrs Baker said cheerily as she produced a black box and pressed it into the healer's hand. She then carefully removed the lid, letting its aroma washed over us. Cooked rice, octopus-shaped sausages and fried vegetables. A bento. "I'm always prepared for your sister. It's the least I can do for her in return."

The last part was directed at Glory Girl with a wink, and the blonde doubled down on her stare at Panacea.

"Amy…."

"I'll leave you girls to it." The nurse said with a smile before turning to me. "I haven't seen you around before, are you with them?"

I nodded, "I'm going to volunteer here soon, after the PRT give the all clear. I'm tagging along to see how things work."

"I see." I caught a flicker of hope crossing her features followed by disappointment before it fell back into a neutral smile. "Do you have a name?"

"Not yet." I cast a glance toward Glory Girl, half expecting her to butt in, but she seemed uninterested right now. "It's hard to decide."

"Well, I am Akari Baker, a pleasure to meet to. I hope to see you more around here." She smiled warmly and offered a hand, which I gingerly took and shook. "Sorry I can't stay, but duty calls."

I watched as the woman turned around and left, her pace hurried.

"You two know each other?" I asked Panacea. The New Wave heroine looked away and sighed.

"...yeah… She said she's been a nurse here for twelve years, but we only met in January, when I… healed her husband." She turned away, like she was talking about something shameful. "He got caught in a crash. All I could do was stabilize him; his brain was...I couldn't help him. I failed her."

"Amy…" Glory Girl sighed, dropping back down to earth and laid a hand on her sister. "You can't think like that. Even you can't save everyone."

"I know that. Still, sometime, I think it would be easier if she wasn't so grateful. It just reminds me..."

"Sis…"

The rest of their conversation was drown out by the hospital's noise as my legs took me toward the direction the nurse headed. I didn't know what I was doing, what I expected to achieve from this. There was nothing I could do to help her.

Nothing I was allowed to do.

I stalked through the sterile hall, occasionally stopped to ask for directions. Nobody dared deny me, and so I continued unimpeded into the inpatient ward. I caught sight of the woman from afar, ducking into a room. I slowed my gait and crept after her, inching toward the door. Her hasty entrance left it ajar, and I could hear both the beeping of heart monitor and her voice, level yet strained.

"I'll have to pull the plug soon."

I dared a peek inside. The Asian woman was sitting by the bed, her hands clasped around a sleeping, no, a comatose man's own, idly playing with his fingers.

"Things have been going downhill, as always." There was a bitter laugh. "I have been taking loans from people, but… " Her words trailed off as tiny sobs wracked her small form. Her hands clung to the unconscious man's like a lifeline. "It's what you'd have wanted, right? For Allison?"

"It's gonna be okay." I mumbled under my own breath, too soft for the modulator to pick up. "Just hang on."

"I haven't told her yet. I just… I don't want to distract her from Cornell. She has a future there, Frank!" She pulled on the man's arm, using it to flick away tears. "I'm so proud of her .She doesn't need parents like us pulling her down."

"Saturday. It's just Saturday."

"She still loves you, you know. I know the last time you two talked, it didn't go so well, but she always ask about you when she writes home. She's a lot like you in the end, huh?"

"Yo! Beaky, there you are!" I turned around, seeing Glory Girl floating up the hall, Panacea right behind. "You just up and disappeared. What're are you doing here?"

Vill hyu let de lezzer men's fear diktate hyu?

What am I doing here anyway?

My mind went back to Winslow, back to the faceless, homogenous mass of flesh-colored apathy and malice that stood and watched when they could have offered a hand.

"I'm saving Mr Baker." I informed her, as factually as tomorrow's dawn, as I stepped into the room. Mrs Baker turned to me, teary eyes wide in equal parts surprise, hope and fear. She worked her mouth, trying to formulate words, but I silenced her. "Please, inform a doctor so that a theater can be prepared. Your husband will wake by dawn."

She nodded, hands wiping at tear-streaked eyes as she turned and ran.

"Beaky, what the fuck?" I spun around to face Glory Girl, my coat billowing around me as I did. The blonde didn't look particularly angry, only confused. "What are you doing?"

I met those brilliant baby blue eyes with my own glowing lenses. My mask might have concealed the determination within my eyes, but the certainty of my motion spoke volumes.

"I have the power to help, therefore I shall help." I declared before turning back to my quarry. This would be slightly more complicated without consulting his medical records, but I've done worse.

"Can you do it?" I looked over my shoulders and saw Panacea walking forward, her lips set in a grim line. "Heal the brain? Undo the damage."

There is nothing outside my reach.

"Yes."

Hundreds of emotions flashed across her face, too fast for me to catch, before settling on determination. My eyes caught her fists bailing for a second before relaxing. "Then how can I help?"

I allowed myself to gush a little at her question. It wasn't everyday the greatest healer on the planet comes forth to offer assistance while you take the lead. Still, I pushed that away and refocused on my patient. There would be plenty of time to feel good about myself later.

"Can you give me a comprehensive diagnosis of our man?" I asked.

She nodded and walked to the comatose patient. Her hands touched his, and she begun to highlight the damage that needed undoing. Traumatic brain injuries was not outside of my power, few things were. However, undoing them called for a certain finesse.

"I need his brain to absorb certain chemicals in preparation. Can you do that for me?" I asked, the beginning of a plan starting to take shape from the soup of the ghosts' memories. There were plenty of ways to wake him up, but I needed one that would cause minimal damage and/or alteration to his brain.

Or, as they like to put it, boring.

"It depends on the substance, but I think I can."

"Wonderful. Start with 20cc of formaldehyde."

"What?" Both Dallons present spoke in perfect synchronicity.

After about twenty minutes of spontaneous surgery planning mixed with assuring skeptics that the Tinker knew what she was doing and that, yes, the patient's cerebral cortex absolutely needed to be soaked in diluted gastric acid, Mr Baker was ready for his revival. Now all I needed was my operating room.

And Mrs Baker hadn't returned yet.

With a snarl, I turned toward the door and headed out in search of the woman. I got as far as the elevator before I found her. She was pulling on a man in white coat, doctor's arm, begging with tears on her face. There were three other nurses there, watching.

"Please! She said she could save him. You have to-"

"Listen here you chink. I had a long fucking day and I am not authorizi-rgh" The last of his sentence ended in a gurgle as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his throat. I made a show of twirling my staff before bringing the wing that I had driven into his throat up to my eyes for examination.

"Well?" I asked, the modulated voice causing the assembled onlookers to flinch. "Your doctor requires an operating theater. Get to it."

"Doctor H-" One started, taking a step toward the choking man before my staff discouraged him.

"I claimed his doctorate by right of conquest. That means I am the doctor now. Kindly have a room prepared for me stat so I can save a man from life long coma, or I will juice your marrow."

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

A gasp. Air sucked in.

Beep.

More gasps. A whoop of joy.

"Akari? Akari? Wha-Where am I?" Crying. Joyous tears of reunion.

Beep.

I stood back, leaning against a wall as normality and sanity bled back into the work. A smile formed on my lips as I watched the middle-aged woman buried herself into her husband's chest. Little sobs wracked her form and tears ran down her eyes. Yet, unlike not too long ago, it was joy that brought them. Glory Girl stood at her side with a big, goofy grin and equally teary eyes.

"You're with me, Frank... You're with me."

I patted myself on the back for a job well done as I slowly recovered from my, well, tinke fugue, as it was. It always felt odd, to deliberately pull myself out of that place, out of the ghosts' arms. It felt like pulling yourself out of the beginning of a good night's sleep.

This was confirmation. This was vindication. By my will, I made the lives of others brighter. Of course, one family was a pittance compared to the general shittyness of the Bay. Of course, waking one man from a coma is a pittance compared to what I was capable of, to what I was planning.

See! And wouldn't it be so much easier to do that once you're crushed them all under your heel?

I snorted, shaking my head. That was strictly villainous thinking.

Forgiv hy boyz, dey are stuck in dere vayz. I turned to the left. The large man was standing over me, an arm wrapped over my shoulders. Vhat dis vorld need iz a protektor, not a tyrant.

A protector. I could do that.

He grinned.

I shook my head with a smile, dispelling the phantom. For all their assorted insanities and psychosis, the ghosts occasionally offered good advice. 50% assorted evil temptations, 48% bragging, and 2% good counsel.

But Red Fire was I tired! Sore too! It had to be this body. Sure, I got maybe four hours of sleep last night and I skipped lunch and dinner, but that's no excuse for for it to croak on me! I really needed a better one.

"Hey!" I squawked as Glory Girl's words cut through the fugue The sheer exuberance in her voice was always staggering, even if I'd intellectually learnt to expect it. "You're fucking AWESOME!"

I cracked a grin back at her. I would be gushing again for the seventh thousand time this night, but I was a little high on tinker.

"No! Seriously! You dropped that ass with a Hippo-staff!" A Hippo-staff? "Then you just tinker-bullshit up a happy ending for her!"

Panacea coughed, elbowing her sister aside with a glare before turning to me. She smiled, yet it was… forced? Ethereal whispers informed me of fear and apprehension hiding just beneath.

I frowned behind my mask. Jealousy I could understand, even if I could not imagine Panacea to be jealous over this. But fear? What was there to be afraid of?

"My power can't find anything wrong with Mr Baker aside from muscle atrophy. I'll come back to fix that once he puts on some weight." She nodded wearily at me. "You did a good job. "

I preened. Just a little.

"Well! This calls for a celebration!" A white clad arm fell over my shoulders, pulling me in and causing my sore muscle to protest. Panacea was quickly subjected to the same fate.

I swear, one of these days I wouldn't be able to resist cutting her open to see what her powersource was.

I glanced toward the wall clock, seeing that it was almost nine now, and shook my head. "Glory-"

"Bup bup bup!" With my lips inaccessible, Glory Girl settled for pinching my beak instead. Her other hand reached up and removed her signature crown. "Victoria. Dallon."

I blinked behind the mask, once again thankful for the mask hiding my masterful social interaction mastery. Once her intention clicked home, I tried again.

"Victoria, I-"

"Bup bup bup!" What now? "Vicky!"

The ghosts have flayed people for less than that shit eating grin.

Panacea groaned and elbowed her in the ribs. Despite her invulnerability, Gl-Victoria made an exaggerated gasp and sunk dramatically to the floor.

"Sorry for that." Panacea gave me a weak smile, but more genuine than the last. "Still, I do want to ask a few questions on what you did back there, if you have the time. It's...fascinating."

I responded with perfect grace. No fangirling involved, no sir. Anyone who suggests otherwise will be locked in a bell jar and hung out to dry.

"Just call me Amy." The healer said with a tiny smirk once my perfectly graceful response finished. "Shall we?"

Like a coiled snake, Victoria had both of us in her grips again, which didn't do my sore muscles any favors. In fact, all the enthusiasm was getting dizzying. With a shout of "Onward!", she dragged both of us off.

I managed five steps before keeling over. Only a quick flashback to this morning allowed me to lift my mask and puke down onto the floor instead of into the mask and back in my own face. I heaved, evacuating the meager contents of my stomach alongside with copious amount of blood and probably bits of my stomach. The wave of exhaustion and pain that I'd been keeping at the back of my head hit me like a sixteen wheeler.

Ah, lethal radiation poisoning, we meet again! So it was you all along!

The last batch should have lasted for another four hours at least. Did I cook it wrong? Perhaps the ingredients were past expiration. Should have checked.

"She's got enough radiation in her to cook a fucking elephant!" Pan… Amy's voice spoke in my ears. I glanced down to see her hand cupping my chin. That didn't sound right, I didn't take in that much.

Unless… The active ingredients decayed into more volatile elements after prolonged exposure. Huh, guess there's a reason for clinical trials.

"What did you do, drink liquid uranium?" She asked even as I felt my innards twisting and shifting. Her famous power at work on me. Absolutely inspiring!

"Transphasic-" Puke. Wipe. "Americum isotope."

"What? Why would you- Vicky! Tell the hospital to send a biohazard team and a lead container. I made the bile to absorb radiation but we can't be too sure!"

"Got it Ames!" The blonde departed with an audible swoosh.

"Why? Did you actually… "

"I got… caught in the moment."

"Caught in the moment?"

"Caught in the moment."

Amy groaned. The free hand came up to massage her temple even as the other maintained contact with my skin. I felt my bile rose again and doubled over to to puke again for the last time that night.

"I thought I could add one more to the number of sane capes in my life." Amy muttered as her power flowed into my body and poured strength aback into my limbs. Renewed vitality allowed me to bark a laugh at that. Sanity, right. I'm sane. Me and all of my headmates. "How are you alive right now? Nevermind that, how come you never mentioned this before?"

"I brewed a suppressant." I said with a shrug, "You were busy with the patient, so I didn't want to bother you.'

Amy blinked owlishly, her mouth moving soundlessly, then she blinked again. The cycle repeated a couple times before she burst out laughing

It was kinda concerning, to see the mousy and silent healer practically...cackling like that. I guess that she was letting out pent-up feelings, so that's good?

"Right. No." She forced out between guffaws. "Panacea's order: If you're dying of a horrible affliction, let me know. Are we clear?"

Outwardly, I nodded. It still felt rather rude though.

"Good. I think I can beat some common sense into you yet." Amy said with a satisfied nod, which then immediately turned to a frown. "That's...odd. Have your power been acting up recently, like after you eat radioactive materials?"

Something about her tone of voice suggested she disapproved of that, but I shoved that aside and focused on the question. Nothing I could think of, so I shook my head.

"Huh….what about now? Anything wrong now?"

You guys still there?

Why? Is this the part where we seduce the hot sisters and take over the world?

"It's working." I answered. Amy frowned and redoubled on staring at my forehead.

"It's probably nothing. It's just…. your Potentia's weird, like you have two or something." She shrugged. "Then again, there's no pattern when it comes to it, and my power can barely make them out anyway, so yours is probably just slightly different than the rest."

Now it was my turn to purse my lips and frown. The Pollentia and the Gemma, right. The two pieces that make a cape and another mystery of the brain. I didn't give it any thought until she reminded me of it; now I really wanted to cut someone's head open. Probably mine, if mine is an anomaly.

Still, it was most likely more prudent to grab a Nazi or something to perform horrific and morally reprehensible Science upon. It's mathematic, you see. A Nazi's value is negative on the morality scale, so when you multiply that with a horrible action, ie another negative value, you ended up with a net positive!

…

Damn it, they're tempting me to villainy again.

Aye, it's all us.

Glory Girl returned minutes later, a man in hazmat gear pushing a large trolley following closely behind. With the younger Dallon's assistance, he quickly cleaned up my mess. He tossed a single glance over his shoulders as he departed. The heavy gear concealed his features, but I could imagine a look of long suffering behind the plexiglass.

"So! Celebratory ice cream now?"

I never actually got any that night; Amy's order was a hearty meal and bed rest. Glory did, however, take a picture of herself with a tub of butterscotch as consolation for me.

I really wanted to know if she was just naturally like that or if it took effort to get to where she was.