Many thanks to GlassGirlCeci, Dwood15, and BeaconHill for betareading.

Crystalline 11.2

"This Noelle," Dean said, drawing out the words. "She's a vial cape? You're sure?" He wasn't looking at me. His helmet was in his hands and he was staring down into the visor.

"Eidolon basically confirmed it," I said. "Her vial was… unstable, I guess?"

"Clearly," said Dean. His voice was quiet.

"And you think Amy can heal her?" Carlos asked from where he leaned against the wall beside the water cooler.

"I think it's worth a try," I said. I glanced over at the couch where Amy was sitting with her back to us, facing the black TV screen. "If she's willing to give it a shot, that is."

"Oh? Only if I'm willing?" she said. My heart sank. I could hear her lips curling around the bitterness that had been festering like an untreated wound. "How nice of you to give a shit. Didn't stop you from making plans around my powers in advance before."

"Amy!" Carlos exclaimed. I held out a hand to forestall him, but Amy ignored him and continued.

"What happened to 'I'm not here for your powers'?" she said, her eyes and head facing anywhere but our faces. "What happened to giving a shit about me as a person, instead of as an automatic surgery machine? 'Congratulations on your successful open-heart surgery! Isn't it nice to not have an actual person involved?'"

"It's not like that!" Carlos said sharply. "Amy, we all care about you."

Amy snorted. "Sure about that?"

"I'm sorry," I said. I had a feeling that phrase and I were going to become well-acquainted.

There was a pause. She craned her neck around, meeting my eyes. "For what, specifically?" she asked.

I smiled slightly. It wasn't easy, and the expression came out twisted. "A lot of things," I said. "I'm sorry for taking advantage of you when you were at your lowest. I should have taken you to therapy, not given you a Ring—and let you consider Nenya when you were better able to think about it. I'm sorry for how little we've spoken, how distant I've become. I'm sorry you've been so alone. And, yes, I'm sorry for setting this up with the Travelers without asking you first. It was thoughtless." I sighed. "It's become pretty clear that I'm not very good at doing the right thing. If you don't want to do this, we can find another way. I'm sorry to impose, and it's your decision in the end."

Her eyes were slightly narrowed as she considered me. "You don't know how to turn it off, do you?" she asked. There was no bitterness anymore, just resignation, and a little pity. "Even Vicky could turn it off."

I looked down before I could stop myself. "No, I don't," I admitted. "It really is your choice."

"What does that even mean, with you around?" she sighed, standing up and stretching. "Fine. Let's get going."

"I'll ask you first from now on," I promised as she passed me.

She shrugged. "Not like you couldn't convince me anyway."

Then she was gone, and the door to the stairwell was closing behind her. I felt Carlos and Dean's eyes on me as I looked after her.

"The rest of us aren't upset with you, you know," Carlos told me quietly. "You've been a bit distant, but you've been busy. We don't hold it against you."

"I know you don't," I said. An irrational desire rose in me to have less control, to be unable to keep the grief and shame hidden quite so well. "That's the worst part." My voice should have been choked, my shoulders should have shaken. Instead I just sighed and slumped marginally. "You should."

Before he could answer, I followed Amy out of the room.

Sophia was in the van when I stepped inside. She gave me a faint, nervous smile as I sat across from her.

My eyes, unbidden, went straight to her fingers. No Ring flickered there. She quickly shoved her hands into her pockets, and I winced, looking back up at her face. She was looking down, her teeth gritted in an expression I couldn't quite read.

I wanted to apologize, to take back the glance, to tell her that Cenya was hers, to use or not to use as she saw fit, but for once in my life I didn't know how to begin. "I haven't seen you in a few hours," I said instead. "Where have you been?"

"Around," she said noncommittally. Then she sighed. "Sorry. I talked to Battery a bit, then took a nap."

"You must not have slept in a while," I said, grimacing. And whose fault is that?

"I've done worse," she said. "Only, what, twenty-six hours? Not the longest I've been awake."

"That doesn't make me feel better," I complained. A smile crossed her face, making her green eyes crinkle warmly at the corners. I didn't understand why, but before I could ask, she looked away, blinking quickly as if to clear her vision.

"I assume you've been planning this mission," she said.

I nodded, letting her change the subject. "Among other things. I don't know much about Noelle, but I know I don't want to do this violently if I can avoid it. That's…" I swallowed. "That's… right, isn't it?"

She sighed roughly. "God, how am I the person you're asking?" she mumbled, half to herself. "I think so?" she said, looking back at me. "But, really, what the hell do I know?"

"More than me," I said.

Armsmaster interrupted us by stepping into the van. "Everyone else is loaded," he said. "Mind if I join you two?" His eyes were hidden under his visor, but his head was turned in Sophia's direction as he spoke.

"I don't," she said.

"Nor do I," I added, when he didn't move immediately. He nodded and sat down beside her.

"So, Annatar," he began.

"Taylor," I corrected automatically.

He frowned, his beard—more unkempt than I remembered—bristling around the expression. "You need a cape name," he said. "We can't call you by your given name in the field."

I swallowed. "Fine. In the field. But until we get there, please. I don't… Annatar isn't who I want to be."

Armsmaster nodded slowly. "I can understand that," he said. "Sometimes Armsmaster isn't someone I'm particularly proud of being, either."

I swallowed. "Yeah. I… I get that."

The silence was stifling. Sophia broke it by clearing her throat. "What were you gonna say, Armsmaster?"

Armsmaster seemed to shake himself. "I was going to ask if we had a plan," he said. "If things go south."

"Which they will," Sophia said, echoing my own unease.

"If Noelle becomes hostile, our first priority has to be containment," I said. "We can't let chaos spread."

"Agreed," said Armsmaster firmly. "But how? Do we set up a perimeter initially, or would that set them off?"

"Why are you asking me?" I asked, staring at him. "Why do you even want my input? Didn't you just spend weeks trying to get me out of power?"

"It wasn't about the power," said Sophia quickly. "You know that, don't you, Taylor? It was never about—"

"I know," I said, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"Focus, please," Armsmaster said. "I'm asking you, Annatar, because if anyone can figure out what the Travelers are thinking without any more information, it's you."

I winced. "Fair enough."

"So?" he asked. "What are they thinking?"

"They're ready to turn on us," I said, thinking back to the brief phone conversation. "Trickster doesn't want to work with us to begin with. Noelle is willing to go with us if we can fix her, but she won't fight Trickster if he tries to break her out."

"But they do want this to work?" Armsmaster asked. "This isn't a trap?"

"Not in that way, no," I said with certainty.

"And what if it doesn't work?" Sophia asked. "What if Amy touches Noelle, and all that happens is we get an evil Amy?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I got the feeling that Noelle wanted to turn herself in, if that happens. But… I somehow don't think she'll be able to."

"Why not?" asked Armsmaster. "Will Trickster not let her?"

"Trickster is lying to himself if he thinks he's in control," I said. "No... This is something else." I remembered a monster, a void in the light and the Song, striking at me with limbs extending into innumerable dimensions. I found myself shuddering, and hoped I was wrong.

The Travelers were standing at the gate of Keene Park when we arrived. Trickster was at the front, arms crossed in an approximation of collected calm. I doubted anyone was fooled.

"Annatar," he said as I stepped out of the van. He looked over Armsmaster and Sophia as they stepped up behind me. "I see your little feud has ended."

"You could say that," I said. I turned away from him, exposing my back as I faced Armsmaster. "Are we the first ones here?"

He nodded. "Piggot suggested we approach from different angles. Our van came directly. Panacea will be here soon."

I nodded, turning back to Trickster. The rise of tension in his shoulders was satisfying. He didn't like being ignored, and I didn't like being stolen from. "Noelle's in there?" I asked.

He nodded, but made no move to allow us to pass. "We can go to her once Panacea's here," he said. "No sooner."

I shrugged. "I'm in no rush." I smiled at him. "How have you been, Trickster? Still having trouble keeping warm?"

He didn't reply, except with visibly clenched fists.

"I'll take that silence as a no." At the familiar sound of engines above, I looked up. Dragon dropped down beside me, her golden armor glinting in the sunlight.

"How are things? Any trouble?"

"Not yet," I said. "Are the others coming?"

"Panacea's van is almost here," said Dragon. And, indeed, I could hear the engine down the street. I turned to see another PRT van approaching. It parked on the curbside, and out stepped Panacea, flanked by Aegis and Miss Militia.

"Where is she?" Panacea asked immediately.

"In the park," said Trickster. "Before we go in, let's just be clear. If any of us sees a weapon, we're going for you immediately. Clear?"

"Threats?" I asked him with a smile. "You really are nervous. Don't worry, we all want this to go well."

"Yeah, sure," growled Panacea, pushing past us. "Let's just get this over with."

When I saw Noelle, she looked almost familiar. Her body was disfigured and disjoint, comprised of an amalgamation of mutated, disparate parts. Above the waist she looked human, but one look at the madness flickering in her eyes and I knew she wasn't really. Not anymore. Limbs, extremities, organs, tendrils, and other things, harder to define, protruded from the patchwork flesh of her lower body.

Panacea walked forward without even a flicker of hesitation. "Noelle, I assume," she said, her tone cool and businesslike. I remembered hearing that same disinterest in her voice when she'd come to heal me of a concussion, months ago.

"That's me," the monstrous girl said. Her voice was soft, and sounded as human as her upper body looked. I was probably the only one who could hear the way her voice grated against the ears, refusing to settle, to harmonize.

"I'm Panacea. I'm going to try to heal you. I'm told it may not work, so no promises."

"All I ask is that you try."

Silence fell as Panacea nodded and stepped forward, putting a hand on one of Noelle's tendrils.

The silence lingered.

"It's not working," said Trickster.

"You don't know that," said Sophia, but there wasn't much hope in her voice.

"It would be doing something by now if it was."

Again, the silence fell.

At long last, Panacea pulled away. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head, pausing for a moment. "Something's fighting back. Every change I make, it reverts before I can move on. I even tried crystallizing the flesh where I changed it, but the crystals won't stick." She looked up at Noelle. "I'm sorry."

Noelle looked down at her for a moment. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes were red. I wasn't sure whether her expression was one of rage or despair. I got the feeling she wasn't sure, either. "I'm sorry too."

Then she reared back, her whole gargantuan body tensing and flexing. One of the mouths on her lower body began to open. A sickening retch vibrated the air. A tide of blood and gore poured forth, red and thick, bubbling and frothing with pus and ooze. From behind the foaming yellow and red emerged a body.

"What is that?" Dragon asked sharply. Her weapons rose.

"Hey!" shouted Trickster, the other Travelers tensing behind me.

I paid them no heed. I was staring transfixed at the body before me. So was Amy.

It stood, shaking the blood out of its mousy brown hair. Its skin flickered, a bright sheen covering it for an instant, and the remaining gore slid off of it as though it were waxed, leaving it standing in Amy's nude body.

Its eyes opened, familiar black voids in its head. It brought its hands to its face, and though it wore no Ring, a faint light flickered around its finger.

It swallowed. "So," it said softly. Its voice was like Amy's, but rough with long disuse. "That's what it feels like."

"You're not like the others," Noelle observed. She sounded strangely passive, given the situation.

"Do be quiet," mumbled the clone, still staring at its hands.

Noelle blinked down at it in surprise, her brow furrowing but made no other move, seemingly content to watch the clone examine its own body. Or perhaps she was as paralyzed as I was. After all, I knew what this creature was. I'd known from the moment it opened its eyes.

The clone looked over at Amy. "Hello," it said, and the word emerged from its mouth slowly, as though it was tasting it on its lips and tongue. "Amelia."

Amy was staring at her clone. "Okay," she said. "Um. Hi. Is this the bit where you try to kill us?"

The clone smiled. The expression seemed unfamiliar to it, and spread slowly, like breaking dawn across its face. "No," it said slowly. "No, I don't think so."

"And if I told you to?" asked Noelle. "Or if they attacked me?"

"I'd probably help them," said the clone flatly. "I'll be more inclined if you keep talking—do shut up, we'll get to you."

"You're not a normal clone," said Trickster sharply. "What the hell are you?"

The thing glanced at him, its black eyes flickering, as though filled with stars. "What am I?" it asked quietly. "Beyond your comprehension." It turned back to Amy and smiled again. "But you, Amy… you may call me Shaper."