Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sitting down to breakfast in the cafe next to the hotel, Danny reflected on how grateful he was to Amy for the physical upgrades. Between them, he, Antonio, and Serafina had emptied two and a half bottles of wine during the evening, followed later by a snifter of an incredibly good brandy, but he felt completely fine only a few hours later. Not a trace of a hangover, or even a dry mouth.
Perusing the menu, he decided on what he wanted, then gave the order to the waitress who arrived moments later. Shortly he was sipping a cup of coffee and thinking about the last day.
The revelations that Antonio had disclosed to him were still sinking in. They'd talked for hours, catching up on each other's lives for the last fourteen or so years, and discussing all sorts of things. It had been a very nice evening, one he'd treasure for a long time. He hadn't realized quite how much he'd missed the old man, or his wife. Criminals they might well be, and they'd only smile at the description, but they were still in many ways good people. Weirdly enough.
And, even after all this time, family in a very real way. Something he'd always known, but not given enough thought to for far too long. As he'd said, their ways weren't his ways, but from both sides they could each see themselves in the other's place.
One of the more bizarre things he'd learned, he'd suddenly concluded after he'd returned to his hotel, explained why Lisa had been wandering about giggling to herself for some time after Benny and Rudy had delivered Antonio's shipment. Her ability had probably told her, assuming that she hadn't already worked it out, about this rumor of him being the head of the Brockton Bay mob or whatever was currently going around.
The whole thing sounded nuts to him. How could any sensible person think there was anything even remotely associated with organized crime involved with the DWU? Anyone who'd ever looked into him would realize that he'd done his level best to keep criminals out of the union, unless they were reformed and willing to work for a living. On the whole he was pretty satisfied with the result.
Sure, they had a lot of people who had somewhat sketchy pasts, and lots of ex-military types as well, not to mention a few guys who simply didn't talk about their pasts at all, but…
Danny groaned, resting his head on his hand for a moment. 'Oh, hell, I'm beginning to see how this rumor started,' he thought with a rueful sense of dismay. 'Zephron probably knows and is doing everything he can to encourage it too, knowing that lunatic. With Mark's help, and probably half the rest of them. Most of them would think it was hilarious. And god help us if Taylor and her demonic friend learn about it, they'll be wandering around making people offers they can't refuse before you can say Tony Soprano...'
Sighing slightly and wondering whether it was better to pretend he didn't know, or firmly ask everyone to knock it off, he decided that for now he'd try not to think about it. After all, it was not only untrue, but patently ridiculous if you did your research. There was no real way that anyone who looked into it could think otherwise. He looked up and smiled as the waitress came back with a tray of food, unloading it onto his table, then asking if he wanted a refill on the coffee. Shortly, new cup steaming next to him, he dug in while planning out the rest of the day.
Antonio had insisted he come back for lunch, which would probably mean he ended up staying for dinner too. The old man was inordinately proud of his roof garden, which was admittedly spectacular, and obviously wanted to try out some more recipes for pasta sauce. There was no reason not to indulge him, since if nothing else only one evening wasn't enough to make up for a decade and a half of no contact. Plus Danny was getting some extremely good meals out of it, which was always a treat.
Thinking he needed to phone Taylor later to let her know he'd probably be staying overnight again, and Kurt to make sure that the DWU was still there, he ate slowly and enjoyed his breakfast. It was nice not to have anything specific calling for his attention for once and he was going to enjoy this brief break from routine. Not to mention reconnecting with some old friends and making new ones.
Idly, he wondered how Benny, his wife, and their friends were doing. Perhaps he'd bump into them again before he went back...
Amy lay in bed staring at the ceiling for some time after she woke, mulling things over. The end of her tail twitched a little as she pondered various thoughts. Eventually, though, she decided she might as well get up, flipping the covers aside and sitting on the edge of the bed. Stretching widely she yawned, then stood, wandering over to the window while scratching her back with one hand. Moving the curtain to the side she looked out at the dawn, seeing it was a rather dull and unimpressive one. Windy, too, judging by the trees flapping around in the neighbor's back yard.
Checking her clock she saw she'd anticipated the alarm again, by nearly forty minutes. Her last round of tweaks had definitely paid off, she was down to needing only about four hours of sleep to get the benefits that used to need a solid eight. That was about as far as she felt was safe to push it at the moment, but was a very useful modification. And necessary, considering that not only was she burning the candle at both ends these days, but in the middle too, and probably some other places only accessible by Taylor's bizarre fractal dimensions…
Smiling a little at the thought, and musing about how that brought to mind some further experiments she needed to try soon with her friend's help, she rummaged around in the closet for the clothes for the day. Making a mental note to have Taylor make her some more suitably tail-friendly pants, she then headed for the bathroom, finding she was the first one up again. She could hear her parents stirring though, and there was a slight snore coming from Vicky which the blonde always did just before she woke.
By the time she'd had a shower and got dressed, her mother was in the kitchen making breakfast. Carol glanced at her as she came into the room, looking her up and down for a moment like she always did. These days, though, it wasn't in the sort of judging way it used to be done, but more along the lines of a mother just checking that her daughter had worked out how to get dressed respectably. Apparently satisfied the older woman went back to work. "You're up early, Amy," she said, turning the stove down a little under the saucepan of porridge she was making.
"I don't seem to need so much sleep these days," Amy replied, honestly but somewhat misleadingly. "How are you today?"
"Fine, thanks," Carol replied, putting some bread into the toaster and depressing the level. "You?"
"Not bad at all," Amy smiled as she headed for the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of orange juice, she found a jug and filled it, putting it on the table and the now-empty bottle into the garbage. She poured herself a glass of the fluid then sat down, watching her mother cook. After a little while, she quietly took a deep breath and asked, "Did Dad talk to you last night when you got back?"
Carol looked over her shoulder again, apparently curious. "Talk? About what?"
Amy relaxed a little. Apparently the answer was no. "Just something I was discussing with him," she said. "That smells good."
Her mother looked oddly at her, but was distracted from a reply by Vicky literally flying into the kitchen and nearly falling over a chair. "Vicky! No flying in the kitchen, you know that!" Carol snapped.
"Sorry, mum," the blonde girl said with an embarrassed smile. "I got a little carried away."
"Again," Amy added with a smirk. Her sister reached out and knuckled her head, making her wince. "Stop that."
"Make me."
"I will!"
"Bet you can't."
"Bet I can."
"Prove it."
"I will."
"Bet you won't."
"Want me to?"
"Go on, if you think you… Ack! Get off!"
Carol sighed as she watched the sisters wrestle from where Amy had lunged at the taller girl, somehow putting her into a sort of submission hold that was using Vicky's own strength against her. "That's very good, dear, but not in the kitchen," she said in a remarkably mild tone of voice.
"Sorry, Mom," Amy said, pushing her sister into the living room while still keeping her arm in a complex hold. The blonde was struggling a little, and wincing every time she did. "I'll let go when you apologize."
"Mom! Amy's being a bully!"
"I'm just proving I can make you stop."
"You're proving that you're mean."
"That too."
Both of them burst out laughing as Amy let her sister go. "That was a fucking good hold," Vicky said admiringly, rubbing her shoulder. "How much of that sort of thing has Saurial taught you?"
"Language, Victoria!" Carol's voice came from the kitchen, making Vicky wince again.
"Sorry, Mom!" she called back.
"She's shown me a few good moves," Amy grinned, flopping into a chair. "Nothing like all the things she'd taught Taylor, of course. But she's been teaching her for a lot longer than me."
"Yeah..." Vicky studied her, in a slightly odd way. "Longer..."
"They've known each other for ages," Amy shrugged, not sure why her sister was giving her a look like that. Vicky seemed about to ask something, but got distracted by Mark coming into the room, turning to smile at him.
"Hi, Dad," she said brightly. Amy also smiled, seeing that their father appeared to be having one of his better days. He was also holding some paperwork she recognized. Meeting his eyes, she cocked her head a little, which got a small smile back.
"Hello, girls," he replied, looking at them with affection. "I could hear the shouting upstairs. What on earth was happening?"
"She was brutalizing me!" Vicky accused, pointing dramatically at Amy, who rolled her eyes a little then grinned evilly. "Using my own strength against me with some sort of lizardy martial art."
"Are you learning a lizardy martial art, Amy?" Mark asked with a smirk. "That sounds interesting. Wouldn't it need a tail to do properly, though?"
Amy twitched her invisible appendage, feeling very amused. "Probably," she responded mildly. "But I do what I can despite my disability."
He chuckled, making her smile again and think that he was having a good day if he could joke like this with them. He'd obviously taken his meds for once. When they worked, they worked well, but the dose was so critical and the common side effects so unpleasant that it didn't often work out this effectively. And it seemed to depend on him already being in the right sort of mood to produce the proper effect, which wasn't always the case. Depression of his kind could be a nasty trap, feeding on itself in a spiral to the bottom.
"Does your mother know Saurial's teaching you things?" he asked.
Amy looked into the kitchen, where she could see Carol's back as she leaned over the stove, then back to her father. "I haven't explicitly said anything," she replied quietly, Vicky listening with interest, "but Saurial thought that I should be able to protect myself if something happened. She's been teaching me for weeks. Do you think Mom would mind?"
"You know what Carol's like with sudden changes," he responded, equally quietly. "But she doesn't want you hurt any more than the rest of us do. I'm glad your friends are helping you, and she will be too. Just… probably best not to mention it right now." He raised the hand with the paperwork in it meaningfully. She nodded. Vicky followed the exchange with a puzzled look, glancing at Amy, who shook her head. The blonde girl didn't ask any questions but she clearly wanted to.
"It's ready, Vicky, set the table please, Amy, come and give me a hand," Carol called, the clattering sounds that had covered their quick conversation dying down as she finished with the stove. All three of them went into the kitchen. Mark kissed his wife on the cheek as he passed on the way to the coffee maker, causing her to smile, then look a little surprised.
Shortly they were all sitting down to breakfast. Amy ate more slowly than normal, eyeing her father with curious interest. She wasn't sure how he was going to bring up the subject that she was sure he was. He met her eyes a couple of times, but said nothing until they were about half way through and Carol was on her second cup of coffee. By that point she was normally about as mellow as she got most days, so it was probably the right time, Amy thought as she watched him turn around in his chair and retrieve the stapled-together pages from where he'd left them on the side counter.
"Could you have a look at this for me, dear?" he said in a surprisingly casual manner, handing the paperwork to his wife, who swallowed her last bite of scrambled eggs, then put her knife and fork down to take them from him with a quizzical expression. He went back to eating, giving Amy a quick glance and what might have been a flicker of a wink. She smiled inwardly, even as she braced herself for whatever happened next.
"What's this?" Carol asked, licking egg off her lips, then flipping through the half dozen pages. "Experimental Parahuman-derived medical treatment? Brockton General department of clinical medicine, research section… Legal waivers for use of non-approved biotechnology… Consent form for treatment, followup by..." She muttered to herself as she scanned the pages, then stiffened in shock and surprise.
'There it is,' Amy thought with mildly apprehensive and detached amusement.
Her mother turned back to the first page and started reading it very intently, pushing her plate to one side to make room. Everyone watched her, Amy with interest, Mark with what looked like amusement, and Vicky with a confused look.
"Mom, what's..."
Carol held up a hand without looking away, making the blonde subside abruptly. She glanced at Amy, who shrugged.
When the older woman had finished reading the entire thing, she closed her eyes for a moment, then got up. Rummaging around in a drawer for a moment she came back with a pen, then sat again and started going through the documents once more. This time she made notes in the margins, crossing out a couple of words here and there and writing in corrections. Eventually she finished, the others having eaten their breakfasts and ended up just sitting there watching, although Mark had made more coffee for all three of them.
Putting the pages in order, Carol laid the pen across them, then lifted her head to stare at her husband, who gazed back mildly. Her brow twitched a couple of times, one of her little tells that she was somewhat annoyed, but not enraged. Eventually she turned her head to fix Amy with the same look.
"Explain, please."
"I'd have thought the documents were clear enough," Amy said quietly.
Carol's look became more intense. "I want to hear it from you. This," she tapped the paperwork, "tells me one thing. But I need to hear you say it, that tells me something else. And I can't help but notice that the name 'Panacea' is mentioned in here several times, in places and ways that indicate that the hospital administration consider her an expert that's easily the equal of any of their doctors in certain fields. I find that… intriguing."
"You didn't really listen to me when I've talked to you about some of the things that have happened there, did you, Mom?" Amy asked, smiling a little at the brief flicker of uncharacteristic embarrassment which crossed Carol's face. "You made sure the legal documents were in order then more or less forgot about it."
"I… have made mistakes, I admit," Carol finally sighed, after looking at Mark who simply looked back. "And while I like to think I'm overcoming many of our past… problems… it's possible I'm still making them. I'm sorry about that, Amy."
"That's OK, Mom, I know you're trying, and you really are a hell of a lot better these days." Amy smiled more widely.
"So. That aside, what's this about, really?" Carol tapped the document again. "I know what it says but I want to know what it means."
"OK," Amy replied cheerfully, making Vicky look at their father, then back to her and their mother. Her sister was still wearing a slightly befuddled expression but appeared content to listen for now. "It's all to do with something Ianthe came up with..."
Carol appeared dubious, Vicky suddenly fixed an intent look on Amy, and Mark merely leaned back to listen, as Amy started talking.
She had a feeling she was going to be late for school, but that was all right. She could always claim, truthfully, that it was a medical matter that Panacea was required for.
"No. I'm not going back there."
"But, Benny..."
"No, Clara! Fine, the food is amazing, but HE might be there."
Clara looked at her husband with irritation, then turned to Ella, who shrugged. "You're more paranoid than usual, Benny, and that's saying something," she complained, turning back to him.
Benny sighed a little, turning in his seat to look back at the two women. "Look, I know you seem to like the guy, but I'm telling you, he's dangerous. You saw how Gino of all people talked to him! And he called Antonio 'Uncle Tony' for god's sake! We really don't want to mess with someone like that."
Clara looked stubborn, folding her arms across her chest. "He saved you from a bowling ball to the head, you idiot, he likes you. Danny's a good man, raising a daughter all on his own. You're blowing this all up for no reason."
"We're avoiding any place Boss Hebert might be and that's final," Benny said firmly, turning back to look straight ahead. He ignored the 'Hmph' from the back seat, and the whispered conversation that then started between the two women. He was pretty sure that the name 'Danny' came up more often than he was comfortable with, but then once would have been more than enough. He shivered, thinking about the appallingly dangerous and sneaky man who even when he wasn't there seemed to end up interfering with his life. Why, he had no idea, but it was obvious when you looked at it right.
He was still at least half-convinced that those guys who'd chucked that bowling ball right at his head had done it on purpose. And if they had, he knew who was behind it.
Him. Boss Hebert.
Why the hell had he ever spilled the beans on that man? He should have kept his lips zipped even if he was drunk, but no, he had to be an idiot and talk about things he shouldn't have talked about. Ever. That had led to one of the most unnerving conversations of his life, both his own boss and old Antonio himself pointing out that it was best in their line of work to know when to keep quiet and when to stay sober. Basically, always and always.
This pointing out was done in a manner that suggested there wouldn't be a second warning… He was grateful yet a little surprised that there had been a first one, but he guessed that his record was good enough that they were willing to cut him a little slack.
Once.
Then, just as he was starting to think he was in the clear, who walks into Antonio's place but the very man who he was trying not to think about. Someone who was easily as worrying as Antonio himself, at least partly because he looked so… normal. If you didn't know the truth, you'd never guess it. More proof of the genius of the man.
He shook his head a little in respect. He could admire the abilities and skills, while heartily wishing that he never laid eyes on the owner of them again. Hopefully that would be the case.
"I could do with some coffee," Rudy said, glancing at him. "You hungry?"
"Coffee and a doughnut would be good," Benny agreed. "We can stop at Christo's place, it's on the way to dropping the girls off."
"OK. They do some really good coffee," Rudy nodded, looking in the rear view mirror, then indicating and turning left in one motion. He ignored the honks from the cab that had been tailgating them for the last half mile. "Idiot," he muttered.
Another two minutes of driving brought them to a side street and the small cafe they were aiming for. Rudy slowed down outside it, looking for a free parking spot. Benny idly looked into the front window of the cafe as they passed it at a walking pace, then froze, the blood draining from his face.
The man sitting at a table next to the window looked up at that moment, glancing out into the street in a motion designed to look casual and accidental. His eyes met Benny's and he smiled, raising his cup in recognition.
"Keep going," Benny said in a rough and shaky voice, not looking away from Boss Hebert, who seemed to find this all amusing in the extreme. "Don't fucking stop, just go."
"Why, what's the..." Rudy's voice tailed off, presumably because he'd looked to where Benny was looking. "Oh, fuck me," he whispered moments later. "You're shitting me."
"He's looking at us," Benny hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "Drive. Now."
Rudy put his foot down, the car jolting forward, while Benny watched the Hebert man peer after them as the restaurant vanished rearwards. Was it his imagination or had there been a sort of evil grin there at the end?
No, it probably wasn't his imagination…
"Boss Hebert knows where you're going to be before you do," he mumbled, leaning back against the head-rest with his eyes closed, his skin clammy and his pulse too high.
"I thought we were going to get coffee, Benny," Clara said from behind him. She poked him in the shoulder. "Hey, are you asleep again? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Probably too much of that beer last night," Ella snarked. "Look, he's all pale and sweating. I thought he said he wasn't going to get drunk any more."
Clara tutted, then poked him again. He didn't have the mental energy to do more than twitch at the moment. "I bet Danny doesn't get hungover like this," she said disapprovingly. "He has a daughter to look after."
"Poor Danny," Ella sighed. "He's a good man."
"He is," Clara agreed, sounding approving.
Benny closed his eyes tighter, hoping that if he pretended nothing was happening, it would become true.
Probably wouldn't work but it was worth a shot.
"Hi, Dad," Taylor said happily, tossing her other self an egg. The Varga caught it, turned her duplicate's head into Saurial's, ate it, and reverted back again, making her grin. "How did things go last night?"
"Very well, in fact," her father said, sounding cheerful. "We were talking for hours, I didn't get back to the hotel until about 2AM. We apologized to each other, accepted it, and moved on. Antonio and Serafina both send their best wishes to you and say they'd like to meet you at some point. You were probably too young to remember the last time you saw them."
"I was, umm, maybe one and a half or so?"
"About that."
"Can't remember anything of them, I'm afraid," she admitted. "Although obviously I know the names. What did you guys have a fight about anyway?" She'd always wondered.
"Ancient history, Taylor. It's really not important any more," her father replied after a couple of seconds. "Best to leave it in the past where it belongs. Circumstances have changed and we've all moved on."
"OK." While she was curious she well understood not wanting to think about or discuss certain things that had happened, and could accept it without difficulty. "Are you staying overnight again, or coming back today?"
"I'll probably be staying over again," he said. "I'm going to go see a couple of other people I know in the area, then heading back to Antonio's place for lunch. That'll probably mean dinner too I expect, and I don't really want to drive all the way back in the middle of the night. So I'll stay over one more night and head back tomorrow morning. If that changes I'll let you know."
"All right. That sounds good. Nothing major going on here, things are pretty normal really. Amy was in a good mood last night, although she was pretty tired, thanks to a very long meeting at the hospital. I'll tell you about it when you get back. Other than that I can't think of anything to report from good old Brockton."
He chuckled. "That probably means that all sorts of things that most places would consider very weird happened, but no one at home actually noticed."
With a laugh of her own, she said, "I wouldn't be surprised. I'd better get back to breakfast or I'm going to burn something. See you tomorrow."
"OK, Taylor. Try to keep out of trouble."
"You know me, Dad."
"I do, yes," he replied dryly. "Hence the request."
Giggling, she disconnected the phone and dropped it into her pocket, then ate an egg in the same way the Varga had moments earlier, before cracking two into the now-hot frying pan. "Dad seems in a good mood," she commented.
"By the sounds of it his reconciliation with Antonio went better than he expected," her demon said, leaning back on the edge of the counter with his elbows on it. "I'm glad about that, it seemed to be bothering him."
"I think it's bothered him for a long time," she nodded, flipping the eggs to brown the other side. "I don't know exactly what happened but I do know it embarrassed him a bit. I think his temper might have gotten away from him or something like that. Mom knew, and I think she sort of approved, but I also know she missed talking to Aunt Serafina and Uncle Tony. She talked about them sometimes and I could tell."
"Well, it looks like that problem is in the past now, which is good," he replied. "And Danny undoubtedly needed a break, he's been working at least as hard as any of the rest of us for months. Without the benefits some of us have until recently as well."
"Yep, I think so too," she agreed, sliding the eggs onto some toast on a plate next to the stove, then adding some bacon. She handed him the plate, then began her own, smiling to herself about how well things were working out and happy for her father.
"You mean this thing can cure Dad?" Vicky asked with barely suppressed excitement, swilling the spore around in the little specimen bottle that Mark had put on the table during Amy's explanation. Everyone was looking at it, Amy with satisfaction, Mark with quiet pleasure, and Carol with a weird mix of annoyance, apprehension, and hope.
"It can fix the biochemical imbalances and the organic issues that cause them," Amy corrected calmly. "That doesn't equal an instant fix. It might not mean a complete fix at all. But it should mean that he no longer needs the drugs and with some time, as his brain chemistry normalizes, should find that the depression issues either go away or become much less of a problem. Psychological problems and physical problems aren't directly synonymous even if they're linked, and fixing one doesn't necessarily fix the other one."
"But it might fix him? Properly?"
"It should do. It certainly won't make anything worse, that much I can guarantee."
The blonde Dallon sister raised her eyes to her sister's, showing that they were full of grateful hope, then turned them to her father. She held out the bottle. "Well?"
"I have no objections," he said. All three of them turned to Carol, who was biting her lip in an oddly nervous gesture both sisters recognized as she stared at the tiny bottle in Vicky's hand. "Carol?"
"It's experimental..." the older woman began.
"But carefully tested a number of times on volunteers, by Ianthe, and monitored by Amy. And tested again at the hospital, again monitored by our daughter, who they obviously trust implicitly." He shrugged. "For what it's worth I trust the Family as well. And it goes without saying that I trust Amy with my life."
"Thanks, Dad," Amy smiled.
"It's a non-approved Parahuman medical treat..." Carol said, once again being cut off, this time by Amy.
"Which is allowed under the relevant FDA waiver if signed by the appropriate medical experts, the patient's physician of record, and suitable legal representatives of both the hospital providing the treatment and the patient in question." Amy indicated the document on the table. "Page four. Dad's already signed it. So have all the other people needed except for his legal representative. Which would be you."
Carol looked down at the papers, then back at the one-shot which Vicky was gently rattling around enticingly.
"The PRT..." She sighed faintly as Mark interrupted her yet again.
"Are aware of them, since Saurial gave them some samples at about the same time Amy was talking to the hospital," he said with a slight but definite smirk. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "I'm sure they'll work themselves up into a frenzy, but they don't have the legal authority to prevent anyone using those things after the waivers are signed, until they bump it up the chain to someone right at the top like Costa-Brown. And I'd almost lay money on Director Piggot not doing that until her own people have tested those things to death. After the whole Coil thing she's nearly as paranoid about the PRT itself as she is about Parahumans in general."
"And she actually likes the Family," Vicky added with a grin. "Not that she'd admit it, but I'm pretty sure she does. She thinks they're nuts, which they are, but she knows they're good people."
"It's the result of a Biotinker..."
Amy raised a finger. Carol stopped talking once more, pinching the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb.
"Point of order; Not Biotinker, Life Sculptor. There's a difference, a big one."
"Fine! Life Sculptor. Whatever the hell that is. The point I'm trying to make is, what if something goes..."
"Wrong?" Vicky cut in, smiling brightly. Carol gritted her teeth. "We have Panacea right here! How wrong can it go that she can't fix it? And she can get Ianthe and Metis here with one phone call."
"Stop that," Carol snapped. She glared at them all. All three were now looking amused, but hastily made their expressions go blank. After a little while, apparently satisfied, she nodded.
"All right. Shut up, all of you, and let me think for a moment." They exchanged glanced as she started looking through the papers again. "And someone get me some coffee."
Ten minutes, and one coffee, later, she nodded and got up. "I'll be back in a minute." She picked up the pile of papers and headed out of the room, only to return moments later and grab the bottle with the one-shot in it. "Just to remove temptation," she muttered, looking suspiciously at them all.
When she'd gone again, heading towards her office, Vicky leaned forward and whispered, "You have more of them, right?"
"Whole pocket full," Amy whispered back, grinning. Her sister looked satisfied and sat back, both of them glancing at Mark who was deliberately not listening in a very obvious manner. They exchanged a look, then waited patiently for their mother, who they could hear on the phone now, to return. A little later the sound of the old fax machine she still used for legal paperwork, as was common in the business, came to them. There was more talking on the phone which Amy didn't try listening to, merely sitting there drinking the remains of her coffee.
Eventually Carol came back, dropping a larger stack of papers than she'd left with onto the table. She sat down and stared at it for some time, before looking at her husband, her brunette daughter, and the one-shot in its bottle, in that order. Then she sighed very faintly, picked up the pen, found the relevant form, and signed it.
"I'll need to talk to your friends at the hospital, they made a couple of mistakes on these documents that could cause problems in the longer term," she commented, putting the pen down again. "Fine. You win. Go ahead."
"Thanks, Mom," Amy smiled, Vicky looking extremely pleased and happy as well. Their mother merely watched as she picked up the one-shot bottle, removed the top, and shook it out onto her hand. "Here you go, Dad," she said, handing it to Mark, who took it from her. "Just put it on the back of your hand and press."
"All right," he said, following instructions without a qualm. Moments later the familiar almost plaintive little squeak sounded. Vicky, who was watching with wide eyes, twitched slightly.
"Is that what it's meant to do?" she asked urgently. Amy nodded, projecting calm satisfaction, although inside she was both jumping up and down with happiness and almost paralyzed with doubt. Years of practice let her avoid showing either on her face.
"It's fine, that's normal. Your hand should have gone numb now."
"It has," Mark replied. He looked curiously at it, watching as the thing sank into his skin and disappeared. "That's… unnerving."
"Will he feel anything?" Carol asked somewhat worriedly.
"Shouldn't do, it's not like it's fixing a broken bone or anything," Amy said, getting up and going around the table to put her hand on her father's. "It's just fixing all the little problems in his brain and neuro-endocrine system that cause the chemical imbalance. OK, looks good, it's working normally…" She fell silent for a handful of seconds. "And done. Everything was repaired and it broke down. What's left will get flushed out in the usual way." She looked at her father's face. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," he replied, appearing thoughtful, like he was checking himself out from the inside. "How will we know if it worked?"
"We wait," Amy said, returning to her seat.
"Just wait?" Vicky demanded.
She nodded. "Can't do much else. All we can do is see what happens over time. In theory it should be like he took the exact right dose of antidepressants, without any of the side effects. But it will take time for his brain activity to settle down and renormalize. Days at least, possibly a couple of weeks. We should see an improvement in less than a day, though. And I'm completely certain it won't make anything worse."
Her sister listened to her explanation, then looked at their father. Eventually she smiled widely. "Thanks, sis."
"You're welcome, Vicky," Amy replied. "And you are too, Dad. Thank you, Mom, I was worried that you'd react… well," she shrugged apologetically, "like you tend to." Carol looked at her, sighed, and nodded.
"I know," she said quietly. "Honestly, my first reaction was a flat No. But I stopped to think about what it implied that you had so much backing from some very senior people at the hospital, and how much good those crazy reptilian friends of yours have done in the last few weeks." She sighed a little. "Although I still find them very… strange."
Amy grinned, as did her sister. "Even I'll admit they're strange," she laughed. "But a lot of fun and very nice people."
"Hmm." Carol examined her, then shook her head. "Whatever. But ultimately… the thing that made me rethink it was that it could help my husband. And that, I want very much." She put her hand on Mark's, which was lying on the table. He turned it palm up and gripped hers, smiling at her. "Thank you, Amy."
"It was my pleasure, Mom. I've wanted to do this for weeks and I'm glad I finally could."
Carol nodded slightly, looking… contented? That was probably about as close as Amy could put it, and she was sure it wouldn't last long, but it was nice seeing it there. She hoped the fixer would improve her father as much as she thought it could.
"You girls had better get to school," the older woman said after a moment. Vicky looked up at the clock on the wall and paled a little.
"Oh, shit, it's nearly half past nine!"
"Language, Victoria. And don't panic, I called the school office and explained there was a minor medical emergency that would make you late," Carol replied calmly. "That said, you should go."
"Thanks, Mom," Vicky said, jumping to her feet, then lifting off and zipping out of the room.
"And no flying in the kitchen, Victoria!" Carol called after her.
Amy smiled to herself and followed her sister. That had gone a damn sight more easily than she'd feared it might.