Tethered

— O —

2008, November. 24th, Mon. Afternoon.

Amelia hummed to herself as she healed another case of pancreatic cancer with a flick of her power and a slightly apathetic expression. To the tune and drone of the air conditioning and hushed whispers in the background.

The nurses and doctors of Brockton General were still gossiping. Still slightly distrusting of a new Parahuman that said she could solve all their problems with but a touch and a couple of minutes. If you sprinkled in enough biomass for her to do the job.

She shrugged to herself. She didn't really care about a bunch of geriatrics being jealous of how she 'had it easy', bloodied hands holding her face, easy they said. Or 'didn't even have a degree'. She had shot the doctor that said that when he thought that she couldn't hear him a particularly venomous glare. And a couple of ideas about turning him into a piece of shrubbery flickered across her mind's eye. But she ultimately discarded them.

For the moment.

It was funny, really, how the PRT fell ass over teakettle to have her brought in for power testing the day after she triggered. Two days ago really, thanks to Carol running her fucking mouth. And babbling to the Protectorate about how they had a healer that needed immediate power testing. Of course, after the initial testing they got more and more pushy to be able to have her on call at any moment in case of a big fight. Or less likely, a gang war were to happen, not that she found the latter case at all probable. The PRT liked the status quo too much. And neither of the major gangs were weakened enough to be picked off by an enemy without the aggressor showing their throat to a third party.

Carol had insisted on getting her acclimated to the environment of the hospital. So most of the testing had been done there, with a dash more of work camouflaged as 'testing'. The protocol was fairly simple if she was being honest with herself. So she didn't take too long to learn what she had to do or where to go.

And, of course, any decision had been entirely out of her hands. As always. She didn't even get to choose her own name! Carol just took the paperwork and filled it all on her own. Taylor would have come up with something better and less pretentious than Panacea.

…or perhaps not. She remembered the small list of things she had tried to name, be it capes, attacks of capes, powers of capes… And each and every name had been worse than the last one.

But at least it would be something original, theirs.

She huffed in exasperation when she had to unmake a minor mod made to the heart of another patient when she was distracted. Such a shame too. Hyper oxygenated blood and a

heart to match sounded like something incredibly useful for someone that did a lot of running.

Someone like her Taylor.

The thought struck her like lightning. She had already given her permission, hadn't she? There wouldn't be any harm in turning her into a low level, No. She said to herself. No low level bullshit, and no half assed mods even if they were a marvel of bioengineering that told the natural order to fuck off and go sulk in a corner.

She was going to give her the best of the best. The peak ideas she could concoct and test to assure that she stayed alive and well. Because the thought, bloodied teeth, of leaving her completely defenseless was [UNACCEPTABLE].

A wave of dizziness washed over her. Forcing Amy to grab one of the railings of the patient she was currently treating and close her eyes for a moment. For an instant she felt like she was swimming. Up and down and sideways switching constantly and ever changing. But the wave of dizziness passed after a short while. Her hearing recovering almost at the same time with a pop.

"-nacea. Miss Panacea, are you alright?"

She felt a hand trying to land on her shoulder and Amy sidestepped it. She wasn't in the mood for casual human contact at the moment.

She glanced back, finding a female nurse looking at her worriedly. She was one of the few that didn't look at her with jealousy or suspicion. She didn't know her name, hadn't bothered to learn it really. But it didn't hurt her to be slightly polite back, even if only to maintain a façade of civility.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired, it's nothing."

"Are you sure?" The nurse asked worriedly. "You should go home if you're not feeling well, Miss."

Amy debated between taking the easy way out or staying here a couple of hours more, so she decided to check up on Tay and decide based on her status. She couldn't really dive into her Link while healing other people without muddling things So she had only touched it a little when she got to the hospital to send a wave of warmth.

And– Oh, Oh no.

She felt how she was laying down on something soft, probably the couch or her bed. And the generally diminished activity of her nervous system. That if added to the new knots she could feel and the stressed tear ducts. Painted a picture that wasn't pretty at all in her not-eyes.

She bit her index finger, thinking.

Tay had been riding the high of being with Amy, and alive, yesterday. But now being at home and very possibly alone. She couldn't do anything but crash and burn from said high. That Danny wasn't home to console her was a given at this point. It wouldn't surprise her if he didn't even notice when her daughter came and went.

God fucking damnit. She shouldn't have come here, she should have gone straight to Tay's house to check on her. And if she was being honest with herself, to simply be with her. For her sanity's sake as well as Taylor's.

She still saw the blood on her hands each time she looked at a mirror. And paired with the niggling voice at the back of her head that told her that she was still there, that this was all a dream. Desperately trying to apply pressure to a bullet wound hadn't done anything good to her psyche, to be honest.

She snapped back once the nurse called her name again. And this time she did give an answer.

"Yes, I think I'll go home."

— O —

Amy reached the porch and jumped over the first step. Her hand automatically lifted a potted plant nearby and gathered the key underneath.

With a soft click the door swung open and Amy entered. Leaving her shoes at the entrance in a small corner where Taylor's running shoes rested.

She felt more than heard Taylor shift while still laying down. And some steps into the house confirmed that indeed, she was sprawled on the couch. Glasses very probably still in her bedroom and forgotten in a corner.

A pair of eyelids parting revealed two purple-red-gold eyes looking at her. A sort of deep exhaustion washing over them that lifted marginally when Taylor took in her form fully.

"Hey," came her voice, small and tired.

"Hey yourself," Amy answered, approaching her with the quiet thumping of padded feet on wood.

She sat on the edge of the couch near Taylor's chest. One of her hands resting on her girlfriend's cheek and using the contact to do a more in-depth scan.

"You haven't eaten today?" She asked with clear concern lacing her tone.

Taylor opted for shaking her head instead of answering. Preferring to just close her eyes and enjoy the warmth of Amelia's hand. Given time, she spoke. "I… didn't have money. For takeout, I mean, and…" Taylor fell silent again.

Amy caressed one of the tear tracks she could see without pushing for more. She knew Taylor, In time, she would tell her herself.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes until Amy chose to speak again. The hand still on Taylor's cheek feeding her information of all kinds, not all of it positive.

Was that a hint of malnutrition? How had she missed that?

Amelia leant forward, lips meeting softly in a chaste kiss. "Sleep. I'll cook you something."

Taylor tried to argue, without much heat, mind you. But a gentle touch and just a push had her careening down and towards Morpheus's embrace. Snoring softly while Amy pulled a blanket, their blanket. From the top of the couch and laid it across the sleeping beauty, tucking her in as well as she could.

Amy got up from the couch and approached the kitchen. Opening the fridge with a grimace and low expectations.

She wasn't expecting anything and still got disappointed.

Can after can after bottle of beer, with some vegetables that didn't look all that healthy sprinkled in and some leftovers that. Yeah, that was one of her favourite pasta plates. and if she was right she made it all by herself. Danny didn't know shit about cooking if it didn't involve a microwave or boiled water and leaves. And even then it almost always came out not all that good. At least that was her opinion, Taylor always said that it was okay.

She clicked her tongue across her teeth. There weren't enough ingredients to do anything worthwhile, and the cabinets… yeah. Mostly empty with only some canned goods. Better leave those.

She checked her wallet and found herself quite well off. She only usually wasted money when Taylor and her went out to do something in the Bay. And since it's the Bay, that wasn't really all that often.

She took out her phone and called one of Tay's favourite places.. The Greek one that served that thing in soft bread, Pita. And since it was relatively cheap and filling she could order one of the bigger ones.

While she waited, she played with the sleeping girls' hair. Leaving little braids all over the side of her head that was exposed to her. Examining her at the same time.

She noticed how her hormonal response seemed… subdued, for lack of a better term. Her synapses in parts of her brain looked like they were firing slower. And she could sort-of-feel that there was a chemical imbalance that shouldn't be there.

Damnit, She needed more practice, and more knowledge about what she could do, before trying something anomalous with her brain or hormonal system. Changing muscles or

nerves? She could do that, but she was leery of messing with the things that governed how her girlfriend behaved and thought.

Maybe she could start experimenting with rats? They had fairly simple brains if what she remembered was true…

The ring of the front door snapped her out of her musings. And after getting the food and putting it on the table she snuck a hand upwards and let it rest on Taylor's cheek again. A slight nudge was all that was needed to slowly wake her up to the smiling visage of Amelia and the enticing smell of food.

She closed her eyes again, snuggling Amy's hand as close as she could in search of warmth.

Eventually Amy retired her hand, an act that made Taylor whine and sit up. Bleary and still tired eyes cracking open again. A spark of life came back to them the moment they gazed upon the food at the table.

Taylor sat a little better all the while trying to stay as close as possible to Amy. Which made things slightly difficult, but she wasn't a quitter. This resulted in Amy supporting Taylor's head in her shoulder while she ate. In slow, deliberate nibbles, the rest of her body draped across Amy's form.

When the thing was halfway done she put it on the table again and cleaned herself with a napkin provided by Amy. She watched all this, more monitoring her systems than looking at her eat. Her frown creased with every time she saw a muted response or a sudden, if minute, change in her brain chemistry. The biggest spike of imbalance aligned with the moment Taylor left her food on the table again, claiming a lack of appetite.

Amy draped her arms across Tay's form without saying anything. Falling backwards slowly and holding the pillar that Taylor had become for her across the years, as tightly as she could.

Minutes passed, how many, she didn't count. The shadows across the floor crawled ever-so-slightly across the wood. Taylor's breaths evening but not deepening. Calm, but not asleep.

"It was empty when I got here," Taylor whispered softly.

Amy put a hand on Taylor's head, scratching her scalp softly. She didn't say anything.

"It was… so empty. Everything still reminds me of her, even the places where we had her photos," she gulps a knot down her throat, her voice still coming across as strangled. "Those are the worst ones. It just… reminds me of something that was there, and now isn't. Never will be again."

Amy didn't say anything about how she hadn't mentioned Danny a single time.

Taylor clung closer to Amelia. Her form racked by imperceptible, to all but Amy tremors. She looked up at her, eyes purple accentuated by a crown made of molten blood and gold, desperate in their plea. "please, please please please, don't leave me alone. Not you too. Please."

Amelia smiled, a small and kind thing. She closed her lover's eyes with her thumbs draped across her eyelids. A chaste kiss cast across her lips. "Never. Do you want to sleep again?"

Taylor nodded, head buried in Amy's chest. A single push and she was once again careening towards sweet oblivion.

She held Taylor close, one hand moving from her face to her hair again. Scratching silky locks that flowed across her fingers.

The other fished out her phone and inputted a number.

Two rings. "Yes?" Answered a harsh voice.

"Is this the DWU offices?" She spoke as softly as possible. Even if she knew that Taylor would not wake up, it was a habit.

"Yeah. You are?" Soft rustling of paper in the background.

"A friend of Taylor's. Is Danny there?"

A short snort. Of derision or laughter, she didn't know. "Boss got off early. Last time I saw him he was going to Jimmy's with a couple of workers."

Amelia grit her teeth, a waspish "thanks for nothing then." Fleeing her lips before she could help herself. She closed the call before she said anything worse.

So he didn't have time to get home and attend to his daughter. But he did have time to get shit-faced?

They were going to have words.

Or she would just take away his ability to drown himself in alcohol. One of the two, Danny wasn't going to get scot free.

"Moron."