April 13th

Ming hmphed, and heavily tapped her cane on the floor.

"But I know your type girl," she said with an air of confidence. "I was a nurse for nearly twenty years, so I know exactly what you feel, and the things you think."

She jabbed her cane at Amy, drawing a small gasp from the girl as it impacted.

"Do you really think you're the first person to get tired of helping people hmm?" she asks. "That you are alone carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Well let me just correct you on that matter; people die girl, it happens, and there is nothing you can do about that. Our time all comes in the end, why do you think that I don't want you to heal me?"

"I've outlived three husbands and two sons, and from the looks of things that number will go up to three as well if he doesn't pull his head out of his ass. To say nothing of never seeing grandkids for the same reason."

The son in question blew air out of his nose heavily, though it sounded more like a growl than anything.

"So know this healer girl," Ming continued. "You will never save everyone, people so much better than you have tried, and they failed as well. So, listen up and listen well."

Ming leaned closer, her two milky eyes still locking on to Amy's own.

"If you don't take the time to stand for yourself, to stop and know and understand that the world will still keep turning if you aren't around, then you will end up doing more harm than good."

"Because if you stay on this course of yours, you will end up becoming unrecognizable to even yourself."

March 26th

Going from sitting alone to being in a group was jarring, and not just with the fact that I was surrounded by people with (almost) no worry of getting 'pranked' from behind.

No, it was the fact that I could sit down and engage in conversations with people who wanted to talk to me and have me talk to them that was really throwing me for a loop.

Now, why did that sound so sad?

Most of the 'conversations' that had I had had over the last two years involved talking to teachers, dealing with the Trio, or getting talked to by other social outcasts like Greg (who never could get the hint), so suddenly getting asked questions and being asked for options was just off-putting, really.

I had been so used to being alone that the fact that none of them were really pushing for me to talk was nice, even if it meant that I spent most of my time sitting and listening to the group talk about this and that.

They still tried to include me, though it was mostly Dennis and Tory that did that; Dean had his hands full dealing with being Vicky's boyfriend plus dealing with Dennis and Tory's good-natured sniping at each other. Amy mostly kept to herself, either with a book or simply sitting at the table, keeping track of the conversation.

So far, everything seemed 'normal,' if I could use that word. Really it only worked because none of them were doing anything different than they normally would (or at least it seemed so).

I didn't really know if that was a good thing, as on one hand, it meant that I wasn't getting any special treatment or recognition from them all and they were just acting 'normally' like I wasn't new to the group. On the other hand however…

I still felt something like an outsider.

There were jokes and memories that were inclusive to the group, of which I had no connection to, no idea about, and would often end up feeling lost over this or that when it didn't involve something like school.

Which was most things really, turns out not having much of a social life for two years was really detrimental to social experiences.

Some measures were taken to try and get me included, little things, like Tory asking me about me, or Dennis trying to get us to go see a movie together over the weekend, (Vicky and Dean had plans, as did Tory, and Amy didn't want to go so it didn't really work out despite Dennis pushing for it).

It was nice, and I knew that I really shouldn't be complaining all that much, the simple idea of being the center of the group's entire attention filled me with something close to dread. A left-over from the Trio that I was working through.

It had never been a nice thing when everyone's eyes had been on me back at Winslow.

There was also the issue of the… disconnect, that existed between them and me. For the most part, each member of the group I found myself in was in a better social footing than I was. Dean's dad was grooming him to take over his business, Vicky and Amy always seemed to be wearing designer clothes, even Dennis and Tory had different views on things than I did.

For them, grabbing a full lunch every day was something that even worth thinking about, and sure, the basics were covered by the school for free (water, juice, sandwiches, a slice of pizza), but if you wanted anything more than what you got in line (like a soda, something extra from the line, or a snack), you had to pay for it.

Most of the time brought my own lunch: it had only been a few days in total so far of going to Arcadia, but I had done the numbers quick enough in my head and figured that it would strain my dad's budget as well as my own personal one to eat like my new 'friends' did every day.

Not that I was worried about having to rely on the government to help us out anytime soon (it wasn't like me and dad had any real expenses, plus we had the extra payment from Winslow to fall back on), but that didn't change years of keeping an eye on things.

My family was never going to get the 'size of a living room table' TV after all, not without having to pay it off over what could be a few years at least (for someone that claimed not to watch that much TV, Vicky was really happy about having it, but I was sure that it had to do with being able to sit next to Dean), and while my parents never had to buy me second-hand clothes, there was a difference between going shopping for clothes, and going clothes shopping.

That one I learned from Emma and her mom years ago.

But not every one of the group was quite like that; Tory seemed to only have long-sleeve shirts, sweaters, and comfortable-looking shoes, but with the prim and proper way she held herself, coupled with how she acted when she wasn't digging at Dennis, it didn't come as a surprise to find that she had been homeschooled for most of her life. While her clothes were practical (other than the fact she was always wearing either a long-sleeve or a sweater) they too were always on the higher end of things. Even her shoes were of a name brand despite being worn down.

Amy was similar to Tory, but in a way that was disturbing to me.

She wore loose, non-revealing clothing and kept to herself most of the time, either via book or by simply not injecting herself into the conversation. She relied on Vicky or the others to keep things going while she watched. That wasn't to say she didn't interject once in a while, but it was usually only after someone had addressed her or on something she was knowledgeable about.

It wasn't that similar to what I had done for two years, but it close enough that I noticed it. If there was one thing I could say I enjoyed learning during my therapy time, it was how to read people.

Mr. Rieper had taught it the basics or watching people for tells and body language to demonstrate how I looked in a mirror. Seeing how he had reflected my body language back at me had been an eye-opener.

I wasn't going to be using it to catch criminals anytime soon, but I had been shown enough that I understood the basics; enough so that I could see a reflection in Amy's actions with my own.

She didn't seem to be the subject of any bullying, nor did it seem that there was something else going on. At times she did get animated and acted more like a 'normal' girl, but I had only seen it once or twice.

This was a downside to the group acting 'normally:' I couldn't tell if Amy's (or anyone else's) actions were how they normally acted. Were they hamming it up for my sake? Taking about things like school and going shopping or to the movies just to make me feel included? Or was really this the normal day-to-day? Because there were times where someone said something or did something that I felt I was missing the point of.

… I didn't really want to interfere, as maybe this was just how Amy was, and it wasn't my place or problem. But at the same time… no one had ever helped me at Winslow, and making friends with another book reader would be… nice.

It could give us something to talk about.

It was all flimsy reasoning at best; the "not wanting to interfere," how "no one ever helped me at Winslow," and with the whole "book reading thing" (though it wasn't like I was going to join a book club or anything, it would just be nice.). It was the same type of not-my-problem reasoning that others had likely thought when they saw me being bullied.

'… First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out; Because I was not a socialist.'

I never wanted to think of myself as a person that would stand by and watch another suffer, and the fact that I noticed that something was up with Amy and immediately didn't want to get involved because it wasn't my problem sickened me; which I viewed as a good thing, it meant that I still had empathy and a sense of right and wrong.

Which made me better than everyone at Winslow and even some at the PRT.

Actually talking to her was going to be the issue. What are the social standards about asking if someone was doing all right in a serious way when you yourself were dealing with your own issues?

Which wasn't the first bridge for me to cross, because there I was, having just said hello to Amy in the class we shared, and her only reaction was to look up from her schoolbook and say 'hello' back.

Then she turned back her book without a word, no recognition in her eyes.

Which both stung and alarmed me; I had been sitting with his girl and her friends for the last few days, I even talked to her about schoolwork and books! Yet she just looked me dead in the eyes and seemingly had no idea who I was.

… maybe there was something up with Amy.

"Hellllooo? Amy?" I ask.

The girl glances up at me with a disgruntled expression. "What?"

For a moment, I am stumped. There was something defiantly up with her.

"Taylor?" I say questioningly while tapping my chest.

It takes an uncomfortably long moment for the light to dawn in her eyes. "Oh my god, Taylor! sorry, I just…"

I wait for her to continue; it took a few seconds.

"… I forgot you were in this class," she finished lamely as she set down her book.

"… you ok?" I ask in the several seconds of silence afterward (huh, that was easier than I thought).

"Fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

She didn't look tired, but hey, what did I know about looking tired? Maybe she had stayed up late working on homework?

But that wouldn't explain why she didn't recognize me.

"So," Amy continued, perking up a bit. "… been doing good in this class? Not having difficulties?"

"… Yeah," I replied. "It isn't much different from what I was doing at Winslow, just… further along."

Amy nodded, and then we both kinds of sit there for half a minute as the rest of the class began to filter in.

… fuck this was awkward. How did people get to know each other enough to become friends again?

Oh yeah… they talked about things.

"… did you finish that book you were reading?" I ask.

Amy fidgeted for a moment with her history book, adjusting where it was on her desk.

"… No, I don't… really do much reading at home."

"Really?"

"For the most part," Amy admitted. "I… do other things with most of my free time."

"Such as?"

"… I go for walks really."

Walks? Amy didn't strike me as the walking type, she seemed… too bookish for that. But, whatever she did on her personal time was up to her, so…

"Any particular place that you enjoy?" I prompt. "I… do a bit of jogging myself, though, it's mostly because I was… told that I need to get out more."

"Um…" Amy hesitates for a second, before sighing.

"Look, if… I don't really do requests from people, outside from professionals or certain situations. It would make my life hell on Earth if I accepted everyone's request to get healed, so know."

"I'm sorry? Heal me?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

Amy narrows her eyes at me. "You're joking, right?" she asked, before leaning forward a bit and looking me over.

"… you're not, are you? You don't really know who I am?"

I wasn't really following this part of the conversation and just looked at her. Was she the daughter of someone of note in the Bay? Were there even people like that even still around?

The realization that I didn't know what Amy was talking about sank in after a few moments, upon which she slapped her hands into her face and groaned.

"I'm so sorry," she muffled out as she dragged her hands down her face.

"Pretty much ever since I got my powers people have gone and asked me to heal them", states Amy. "The average person doesn't tend to recognize me, but there are always those few that do and think, 'oh, she can fix me, it's what she does,' despite the pleas not to bug me over something like having a scar removed or wanting your boobs to be bigger. Most people tend to be nice about it as well, but there have been a few… incidents. Most of Arcadia have learned to leave me alone at this point, but some of the new kids from Winslow…"

Amy shook her head and sighed.

"Let's try this again," Amy extended her hand to me. "Hi, I'm Amy Dallon, also known as Panacea."

And the final pieces fell into place; I had half-gathered who Amy was from her speech, but it was something else to get conformation.

Panacea, noun; a remedy for all ills or difficulties: cure-all.

A powerful name for the world's best healer, of which there were few of in the same category as Panacea.

Everything from the flu to genetic disorders, no matter what it was, Panacea could take care of it.

And I was speaking to her and had no idea.

When I had looked into capes after getting my powers, it had been mostly a look into powers, Trigger Events and how people got/used them. I knew of most of Brockton Bay's Protectorate capes through simply living here, as well as through things like the news and some general searches on the internet; but none of that meant that I knew them all by sight.

I could easily peg a few like Armsmaster, Miss Militia, or Dauntless if I walked past them on the street, but I hadn't spent enough time looking things over to identify anyone else on the spot (outside a few like Hookwolf or Alabaster, but they were rather… infamous for several obvious reasons), and New Wave was unfortunately on that list.

It was funny, really, as much of New Wave were either flyers or had bright light-based powers; both were things one tended to notice in a casual setting.

Panacea, on the other hand, tended to be in the background, working a supporting role rather then trading punches on the frontlines. Add that to the PRT and PHO doing their absolute best in following the 'Unwritten Rules' wherever and whenever they can, it wasn't that much of surprise that I didn't recognize Amy on the spot.

Still didn't stop me from feeling stupid, however.

"… does Vicky know about the other connotation to her name?"

In a second, Amy regained that deer in headlights look, and I felt my face heat up as well.

Of all the things I could open my mouth to say.

No Taylor, let's not talk about how you just found out your new friend was a cape, instead, talk about how her sister/teammate picked a name that is sometimes mocked as a sexual act.

"… it… took, a few years for her to find out about that actually," Amy admitted, a blush quickly rising. "But by that point she had been using the name and kind of… rolled with it? I guess? Vicky was old enough that understood it and joked about it later at least, and it's not like anyone that fights her calls her that, unless they want their face smashed in while she's smiling at least."

"So she takes it as well as she can?" I half ask. "That's… mature of her."

"Well, it's more like she acts like she doesn't care, but if someone does bring it up… There is a reason that she sometimes gets called 'Collateral Damage Barbie,'" Amy says in a dry tone.

I find myself snorting in an attempt to cover up my laughter. Then I realize that she still had her hand out for me to shake (even if it had dropped a bit at this point).

"Taylor Herbert," I supply, finally taking her hand in a handshake.

… And then watched in concern as Amy's eyes unfocused for a moment when we clasped hands.

"Amy?"

The unmasked cape blinked twice, then stared me in the eyes.

"… You definingly were at Winslow," she stated after a moment. "You have the same… thing, that most people were effected with, but you seem to be one of the lucky ones. Yours is… the best term I can use is stable, even with the fact that I can't do anything to the affected areas."

"The doctors at the hospital gave me a clean bill of health," I warily say as I pull back my hand. Amy held on for a moment (a split second that I wasn't even really sure about) before she let go.

"I can view everything from your cells, straight down to your DNA," Amy counters. "I can learn things with a touch that doctors will take days to figure out, let alone something like this. But they were right about one thing, you are healthy, top-of-the-line health really; no major disease risks, no heavy wear and tear, no signs of illness beyond the basic harmless bacteria's that you're fighting off. The only thing that could be considered 'wrong' with you is your eyesight and the fact that you need to eat a little more and better, but that's something is almost universal for teenagers."

"Really? That's… both cool and slightly creepy at the same time."

"I've kind of gotten used to it," Amy replied with a sigh. "But yeah, there were times that I first used my powers and figured out some things that had me blushing when I brushed into people; I started wearing long sleeves after that for a while, but I got over it."

Once more, we lapped into silence, but at least this one felt less awkward.

"… So a lot of people ask you to heal them?" I ask in an attempt to keep things going.

"Every now and then," Amy says with a shrug and another sigh. "Though the hospital is good at keeping them away, and I don't really go out patrolling with New Wave so it isn't like I'm easily recognizable after all. Most kids in Arcadia tend to pay more attention to Vicky when she starts to show off."

"I didn't even know who she was," I admitted.

"Yeah," Amy sighs. "Vicky tries to take things easy when she's at school, responsibility and all that. The fact that you're new and she doesn't want to freak you out helps too. Give it another week and she'll start flying over to the table."

The bell rang and the room was filled with the bustling sounds of students settling in their seats. Amy picked back up her book and smiled at me.

"Sorry about not recognizing you, again," she stated.

"Talk later?" I Inquired.

"… Sure."

As I turned back around to face the front of the classroom, I reflected on the fact that Amy's tone didn't sound at all sure.

I was half-right.

Amy clearly wasn't really expecting me to stick around and wait for her when the class ended, as when I asked her where and what her next class was, she blinked at me owlishly.

"Ah, Math, room two-oh-eight…. You?"

"English, three-twenty-seven."

"Mr. Herk? He only teaches AP classes."

I shrugged. "Mom was an English professor… shall we go?"

Our classes were on the same side of Arcadia, but on different levels. We could walk together for a bit, but I would either need to go past her class or break off beforehand for the stairs.

When I pointed that out to Amy, she was… wary wasn't the word, more that she was interested, but only in the fact that I was seemingly willing to walk with her. Curious maybe?

Two years of looking out for evil looks and avoiding people kinda ruined my people reading skills.

Amy was well experienced in navigating Arcadia's halls, making it hard for me to keep up; where I would still look for places that I could slip by without interacting with anyone or wait for a group to disperse to avoid being trapped, she would push forward and join in the queue of masses heading to class.

She did glace back after a minute or so; my height made it easy for me to keep track of her, and for her to see that she was leaving me behind. For a moment, it looked like she would continue on without me, before she stepped to the side and waited for me to catch up.

"Sorry, I'm used to traveling on my own," Amy half mumbled when I caught up. "It's better for me to get this part over with so I don't have to touch anyone."

Ah, her power. If she couldn't turn it off and it worked on skin contact… Then the moment someone bumped into her she could learn everything about their biology.

"I get it. I… had to do something similar back at Winslow," I admitted.

Amy glanced at me as we started moving again, the obvious question in her eyes.

"… someone close to me made… let's call it a bad decision, and I ended up paying the price for it."

Because as much as I wanted to kick Emma to the curb and leave her there, hearing what little Alan had told me and Dad before Dad told him to never see us again (it was rather smart on Alan's part that he had stayed by the hospital room's door, lest he get the Hebert Treatment) had made me feel… sorry, for Emma.

In the whole 'Dracula had a wife and she was killed so he swore vengeance,' kind of way. You feel sympathy, but that doesn't stop you from rooting for Belmont to defeat him and win.

I wasn't ever, going to offer my friendship back to Emma, but I could see us running into each other years down the road (likely decades) and me being civil in asking how she was; I probably wouldn't try to keep in touch after that either.

Amy hummed, clearly not knowing what to say, and as we walked and the crowds thinned, I bit the bullet.

"Part of that was the reason that I, kind of, wanted to talk to you."

"Pardon?"

I sighed. "I…" I started, gathering my thoughts even as I stopped by the stairwell. "I know what it is like to look from the outside in, to be… present, but not really included. I saw a bit of that in you," I admitted. "Where you were there, acting fine, but really it was more like… Feelings Inside Not Expressed?"

"I just didn't want to be that type of person what saw what happened to me at Winslow, happen to someone else and didn't do anything about it."

Amy's mouth had popped open a bit in shock, her eyebrows had shot up towards her hairline, and I felt the sudden need to just dig that hole a little bit deeper.

"I, I, I just assumed things," I stuttered out. "I didn't really know you, and you weren't exactly outgoing most of the time, and maybe I was projecting, or reflecting, Mr. Rieper wasn't really clear on how those differed…"

"Easy Taylor," Amy stated, grasping my arm at the wrist. "Don't put yourself into a panic over being human and having human insecurities."

"I'm not panicking," I defended while taking several quick breaths.

Amy just lifted an eyebrow and shook my arm with her hand. "World's greatest healer, remember?"

"… maybe a little bit." I took a deep breath and tried to center myself.

"I just am tired of how things were and everything that happened to me and want it to go right from now on," I blurted out.

"Yeah," Amy sighed, releasing my arm. "We all kinda want that in our lives."

I want to say that we shared a moment, where we bonded over events in our lives that were out of our control. It felt like a moment between friends.

Or I might have been projecting again.

"I have a bit of advice for you then," Amy stated. "Something that I've picked from watching on the sidelines."

"Take Dennis up on his movie offer, he would really appreciate it."

"What, why? No one else was able going, so I thought he canceled."

"That's because he only asked everyone else because he felt that you wouldn't go if it was just you and him, which is what he really wanted in the first place, and while he picked a day that he knew everyone would be busy. But then you went and said no."

But why would Dennis do that? Me and him only really hung out at lunch or in the computer lab.

Sure, he was friendly and helpful, and made steps to include me into the group (really, he was the only reason that I was actually even there), but still. It was nice to feel included, but he was right in this thinking about me and the group, even more so if it was just the two of us; it would almost be like a dat-

…

Wut?

…

What?

Amy rolled her eyes and sighed. "Great, there are two of you, you're perfect for each other."

And before I could even begin to unpack that bombshell, Amy pushed me towards the flight of stairs.

"Go, or you be late. I'll… I'll see you at lunch," she said as she pushed.

I watched her walk off for a moment, still processing everything (Wot.) before old habits kicked in and I automatically began to walk to class.

… aside from the whole nearly having a panic attack, and the now-a-thing with Dennis, I felt that all went rather well. Sure, I may have made myself look like a bit of a fool (and been perhaps a bit forward on the whole thing), but I walked away feeling like me and Amy were actual friends now, and not just two people that happened to sit at the same table.

I still felt like and idiot for not knowing that Amy was Panacea, and it did explain why she acted the way she did. Having the ability to heal anything with a touch would make anyone at least want to ask if she could do something; at least I lucked out in that regard.

With my power, I doubted that anyone would be asking me to use it.

Though I did learn something far more interesting from Amy's power. She gave me a clean bill of health, something that I myself wasn't that sure about given what I had recently learned.

I wasn't idle about my power, just because I didn't want anything to do with it didn't mean that I was too foolish not to look into power-related things.

It was something that I noticed back when Dad and me were back in the apartment, I had stayed up all night without realizing it, only to experience no ill effects. It had made me… curious, about something.

I put off looking into it, really out of my own procrastination, until we'd moved back into our home, then did a few tests. Who wouldn't?

I had a superpower; despite how I got it, a tiny part of me was still going, 'what can I do?'

My limited tests showed me that I didn't have faster reflexes, I didn't get tougher skin, nor did I have my sight improved, so I figured that all I had was that ice power, some kind of Blaster/Shaker mix.

But that late night stuck with me, so I did another small test.

I found it… funny really. Amy said that I needed to eat more but was otherwise fine, that there was nothing wrong with me.

In reality, it has been nearly four days since I'd eaten or drank anything. Two of those were also without any sleep.

Which was more than interesting, because I'd yet to really suffer any ill effects from it.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter before we get into the chain reaction of events that leads to Taylors long awaited (and likely long overdue) power testing.

Next chapter looks into Coil and whats going on with him and how he's taking everything that's going on.

Then after testing mini-arc/phase gets done it's the final two chapters of the Firewalker Arc, of which I'm actually looking forward to more than the testing at this point (but it's a close thing).

Following all of that I need to make one or two side stories to cover a few things, and the Dragon interlude.