Chapter 2.a
Thursday, April 14th 2011
Amy hated the tiny shiver that crawled down her spine as she entered PRT HQ. Like so many other parts of her life, she knew that specific fear was a totally irrational and nonsensical emotion; but like her forbidden feelings for Vicky and her smoldering contempt for her patients, Amy was no more able to dispel the unwanted feelings than she was able to fly.
She was a hero.
She hadn't done anything wrong.
Yet, the little voice in the back of her mind whispered.
"So Ames, you actually talked to the Butcher?" Vicky asked as soon as they were away from the receptionist with their visitor lanyards. "What did she say? Did she want your bones for her costume?"
"Hardly," Amy replied sarcastically. "She apologized for making work for me, and promised not to harm the Wards too badly."
Vicky snorted in derision. "Sure, right. Are you sure she wasn't pulling your leg?"
"We both know what Butcher does to legs," Amy muttered, then nearly bit her tongue.
That got an amused huff from her sister. "Someone's feeling particularly dark and morbid today."
Now she was tempted to threaten Vicky with an actual pig nose, but if the pig in charge ever learned she could do that… Yeah, Amy was keeping that comment to herself for the moment.
Truth be told, Amy wanted Weaver to have some nefarious scheme to… do something. Villainous, probably. The idea that the crazy, reincarnating serial killer had just stumbled upon the Undersiders robbing a bank, taken control of their team, and set Amy free was just too absurd to take seriously. She must have had some sort of unhinged plan that involved reassuring Amy while she used her bugs to direct the other hostages out and into Grue's fog.
Amy really didn't want to consider a world in which Weaver set her free because it was the right thing to do. She didn't like the idea that the Wards had shot first when Weaver offered to avoid the fight, and she certainly didn't want to think about the fact that Weaver had barely even hurt the Wards in their mockery of a 'battle.'
No, the Butcher was a villain, and believing otherwise was just basically flinging herself into the arms of villainy. Amy had worked far too long for far too little to throw everything away now, and it didn't matter how much she felt a deeply-buried sympathy for the girl with the scary power who had wanted to be a hero.
There were definitely days that Amy wished that she had not asked Vicky about the PRT's attempt to send the Butcher to the Birdcage. It would have been so easy to just buy the party line: Butcher was always crazy, and her 'heroism' had merely been her efforts to cripple one of the Teeth's primary competitors, or the last throes of a girl falling to madness. But Amy had been morbidly curious, and Carol's refusal to even consider that the Butcher could be a hero had sounded uncomfortably similar to the stigma surrounding wet Tinkers.
Had Weaver been doomed from the beginning?
"Ames?"
They were standing in front of the elevator down to the Wards quarters; Amy hadn't realized that they were stopped until Vicky's voice dragged her out of her increasingly cluttered headspace. She ignored the lump in her throat at the thought of the elevator — she knew it could go the other direction, unlike some — and followed her sister down to the Wards area. The doors opened to reveal the assembled (and red-stained) Wards sitting around a whiteboard, with Assault and Battery standing nearby. The former was trying to balance a marker upright on his finger.
Amy noted, with some amusement, that the room smelled like tomato sauce.
"I hope you guys didn't start without us!" Vicky's enthusiasm was to be expected, if Amy was being honest. The Wards' sound defeat at the hands of the Butcher or no, the insane villain was a fascinating case study in parahuman studies. Ever since the Teeth had arrived in the Bay, Vicky had obsessed over learning more about how the Butchers' powers changed and interacted, and a meeting like this was like catnip to her.
"No, we've been waiting," Amy's least favorite Ward said acidly. "You didn't even fight the bitch —"
"Language," Battery admonished at exactly the same time Dennis said, "Wasn't she robbing the vault?"
The red-headed annoyance in question turned her stare on Dennis, who flashed her an amused smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. Amy knew Emma Barnes tangentially through Carol's law firm, so she was understandably displeased upon meeting Meteor with her mask off for the first time. It had also not helped Amy's first impression of Sophia Hess, and it said much that the latter was willing to associate with the Barnes girl out-of-costume.
Amy knew that she herself wasn't the nicest, warmest, or most bubbly person around, but she took some solace in knowing that she wasn't as awful as the three newest Wards. Oh sure, Madison Clements wasn't quite as bad as the other two — she mostly made excuses for them, and Amy had heard her laugh at their 'jokes' — but her black-and-blue checkered costume could often be found not far from wherever Emma and Sophia were wasting perfectly good air talking together.
Now, though, Madison seemed… deflated. Not just literally, of course (her 'combat form' was both impressive and intimidating); she was slumped in a chair by herself and staring listlessly at the wall behind the whiteboard. Admittedly, the rest of the team wasn't in much better condition, but Emma kept shooting the Changer a series of confused and angry glances that Amy couldn't bring herself to care about.
Amy wasn't a Ward… thank god. The culture and drama would have driven her mad.
"Well, now that we're all here," Assault said, clapping his hands and cutting off an argument that Amy had been studiously ignoring. "Let's talk about the Undersiders."
Emma scoffed. "Why not Butcher? She's obviously the real threat here."
A look of disappointment passed over Assault's face so fast that Amy thought she might have hallucinated it. "Perhaps, but Weaver is a mostly known quantity. The Undersiders, on the other hand, changed their modus operandi from 'espionage' to 'high stakes heist,' which makes them interesting to start with."
Amy didn't fail to notice that Assault used Butcher's old name, which made her wonder what they would call Amy after she herself snapped. It probably wouldn't be pretty, probably something horrible like Nilbog or Bonesaw or —
"Ames?"
"Sorry, repeat the question?" Amy asked, ignoring Vicky's concerned expression.
Assault tapped on the board, where the four Undersiders each had their own column alongside Weaver. "You're the one who saw the Undersiders arrive. Do you have anything to add?"
"Not really. Hellhound had her dogs. Grue filled the room with smoke, and I couldn't see or hear anything until it dissipated. They didn't take any hostages or even seem to care that we were there apart from making sure we all sat quietly." Amy ran the moment back through her head, but nothing stood out. "I saw Regent and Tattletale, but they ran into the back immediately."
"Thank you, Amy," Assault said, voice oddly serious. "Some of the civilians reported the same, but it's nice to know that they were all present. Did you get anything about their powers?"
Amy shook her head once, ignoring the Wards' questioning looks. "Nope, just Grue's. I don't even think they realized I was there until Weaver showed up."
"Wait, really?" Carlos asked. "I thought Tattletale was supposed to be psychic?"
"That's not supposed to be possible," Vicky replied. "I don't think that's right, but she is supposed to be a Thinker. Maybe she's just not very powerful? Or maybe she's just kinda dumb?"
"Taking Panacea hostage is a hell of an oversight," Madison mumbled. There were definitely days that Amy wished that the girl was less of a stupid bitch, because she was kinda cute when she wasn't being Browbeat (and certainly wasn't Victoria).
Assault shook his head. "Smart supervillains downplay their powers." Still, he wrote 'possibly dumb?' under Tattletale's column. "Ok, what else do you have for me?" When the Wards just traded defeated glances without offering up further comments, Assault sighed and gestured with one hand. "Alright, fine. What did we learn about Weaver?"
"She's afraid of getting burnt by my power," Emma said immediately, looking inordinately smug at the declaration. "When we were fighting, Butcher managed to deflect or parry all of my attacks and made sure I wasn't hurt physically. I think she also fireproofed her costume, because even at full blast I barely singed the fabric."
Amy noted that Emma didn't mention how she folded like a flaming origami when Butcher hit her with the pain blast.
"Weaver is scary good at CQC," Madison said next. "No matter how I tried to hit or grapple her, she turned every attack. But she didn't actually hurt me, or even attack much herself. Honestly, I think we got played."
"You think?" Missy spat. "I didn't even get to do anything!"
"Hey, me neither," Dennis interjected. "But honestly, that's better than having to deal with her bugs."
Dean groaned at that. "Tell me about it…"
"So, Quarrel's power still works around corners?" Vicky asked suddenly. At everyone's incredulous looks, she continued. "Butcher's power always weakens on transfer, so it would be nice to know her limits there."
"The dagger she threw at my cannon swerved upwards at the last moment," Chris said miserably. Amy would have felt bad about the loss of his tech, but it had exploded rather violently and knocked her onto her butt, hard.
"Good to know," Assault said. "And the bolts she threw back at you guys?"
"Why did you idiots even try to shoot her?"
Amy was surprised as the rest to discover that she had been the one to ask the question. Emma and Sophia were angry, of course, with the latter spitting, "What?" The rest of the Wards, on the other hand, seemed mildly curious. Dean, the empathic fuck, was staring at her, too.
Amy's mouth continued to run without checking in with the rest of her brain. "I mean, she didn't hurt you guys… apart from fucking over your pride, maybe. But what if she really didn't want to start that fight? She talked to me in the bank, and made it sound like she just wanted to deal with the Undersiders."
Emma wasn't having it. "Oh, come on! Do you really think that Butcher was going to let us go? She was always going to fight us, and at least Sophia tried to get the drop on her!"
"She's a combat precog, you —" Vicky started, only to be cut off by Battery.
"Your instructions were not to engage," the heroine said seriously. "While it is true that we certainly can't trust villains to keep their word about fighting, deliberately provoking…"
Amy tuned out the rest as Battery admonished the Wards for escalating unnecessarily in a potential hostage situation. From the sounds of it, Emma and Sophia were in for a lot of paperwork and console duty, neither of which Amy cared about beyond the displeased frowns on the other girls' faces. Then there was Kid Win, who was in even deeper shit for using potentially lethal weaponry on the Butcher of all people.
No, what filled Amy's mind was the implication of her earlier words. Did she really want to admit to trusting Butcher, even a little bit? It was a wrong feeling; bad, villainous… even if the villain in question had seemed genuinely upset that Amy had been among the hostages. Maybe if Amy had met Butcher before the latter's descent into criminal madness, she wouldn't have felt so… wrong.
Who knows? Maybe if they had both kept their terrifying powers secret, they could have been friends.
Of course, that was the issue that Amy was so desperate to avoid thinking about. It was so much easier to just believe that the Butcher had always been a villain; that all of her plans were for her own gain, and that she was just as insane as everyone believed. Because if Weaver really had been pushed off the cliff instead of jumping herself, if she really had been a hero that was too scary to be allowed to exist…
"… and you just expected us to stand there?" Oh look, Emma was trying to yell at Battery.
"We expect you to —"
The heroine's retort was cut off by the sudden klaxon of an alarm, which jolted all of the Protectorate heroes out of their seats and into combat stances. Vicky practically launched herself at Amy, positioning herself in front of the healer in a protective stance. The Wards, unsurprisingly, were all masked up within seconds.
"Weaver just crashed through a window and broke into the evidence storage," Assault announced, striding for the elevator. "Goddamn it…"
"Stay here, and do not engage if Butcher appears." Battery ordered, following the other hero. "We don't think she would come this way, but we're not sure —"
"She's after the minigun, and the foam sprayers in the room are jammed," Assault said as the door shut. "I told them —"
"Don't worry Ames, I'll protect you," Vicky declared. Amy didn't want to admit that for all that the hopefully-crazy villain was raiding the PRT, she felt strangely unafraid. Butcher had let her go once already today, and had even apologized to her about making more work.
Right, yeah — hurting the Wards would definitely mean more work for Amy. Hell, hurting anyone in the building would likely mean she would be asked to heal them. So while the Wards and Vicky were becoming more and more agitated as the klaxons blared and their communicators squawked, Amy simply did her best to relax. There was little doubt in her mind that Butcher was going to retrieve her minigun, and Amy amused herself by imagining the look on Carol's face when the news broke.
The tense silence was broken by Butcher herself, appearing with a loud crack and a flash of flames. As usual, Butcher was decked out with far more weapons than any one cape could possibly need, except now she also had her signature minigun slung over her shoulder. Amy couldn't see the madwoman's face, but there was little doubt in her mind that Weaver was grinning… well, like a crazy person.
Which she was, of course.
"Hello again!" Weaver said cheerfully, bugs buzzing along with her as they crawled out of every shadow. "Thanks for holding onto this for me," she wiggled the minigun, "and my apologies Panpan, for inconveniencing you yet again. I'd offer to go another round or two with the Wards, but unfortunately I'm on a bit of a schedule today so I must hurry along. First, however…"
Amy spared a glance for Meteor and Stalker, who seemed poised to repeat their earlier idiocy and provoke yet another fight with the Butcher. However, before anyone could do something stupid, Butcher pulled a square device out of her pocket that was covered in some fine mesh. She handed it to the swarm of bugs, revealing a… cell phone?
As soon as Butcher turned her back, Amy understood, and barely managed to get her middle finger up in time for the snap of a photo being taken. At least her clothes weren't covered in red stains from the pizza sauce attack at the bank, like the entirety of the Wards save Aegis.
Weaver took a quick look at the screen, nodded, then the madwoman vanished with a muffled pop of displaced air.
For several moments the only sounds in the room were the klaxon of the alarms; Amy was thankful that the containment foam sprayers hadn't triggered due to their guest.
"Did... Did that just happen?" Dennis muttered after an uncomfortably long pause.
"Never mind that," Vicky said as she faced Amy, crossing her arms with a clearly evil smirk on her face. "Did the big bad Butcher just call you Panpan?"
Fuck.
There went her whole evening.
Vicky was never going to let her live this one down…
Yup.
Amy was in hell.
The arrival and subsequent departure of the Butcher had thrown everything for a loop, causing what Amy considered to be an unnecessary amount of panic. Thankfully, as they were not members of the Wards and nobody was hurt, Director Piggot had requested that Amy and Vicky leave while she managed the current crisis. That was fine by Amy, since she didn't want to listen to the annoying Wards any longer than necessary — holy hell were Emma and Sophia bitching up a storm when Amy left, though missing out on what was sure to be a legendary ass chewing was a minor letdown.
Not having to deal with that shitshow should have put Amy in a better mood, as should being carried by her sister, being held as closely as she was, pressed up against her and — No, Amy refused to give into the temptation; she wasn't going to be the monster Carol knew her to be.
She was not going to become a villain.
Even if a villain appeared to be doing better against the Empire than the heroes, at least for the moment…
The Butcher had even kept her word about not making more work for Amy, with no injuries of note between either of her engagements today. A villain had kept their word. Amy was having difficulty remembering the last time a hero had done even that much for her. It wasn't like Weaver woke her up at ass A.M. demanding she heal the very same people that condoned her Aunt Jess' murder!
"Whacha thinkin about?" Vicky asked, startling Amy from her introspection.
Well, an honest answer was out, but maybe something truth adjacent would work. "Just how weird today has been."
Vicky nodded. "Yeah, first you're taken hostage, then rescued by the Butcher of all people, then she takes a selfie of all of us while you flip her the bird!"
Amy had to grab hold as Vicky became more animated. "Please don't drop me!"
"Sorry," Vicky said with a blush that Amy could only see through her power. "Why do you suppose she took that picture anyway? It's not like she could really do anything with it besides show it to the Teeth."
Amy suddenly had a sneaking suspicion deep in her gut. "Does she have a PHO account?" Vicky's eyes widened in panic as they worked together to get Amy's phone out, opening up the Brockton Bay subforum. Sure enough, there was a post near the top by Weaver, proving that she not only had an active account, but had indeed posted the picture for all to see.
Which she now had to explain to Carol.
Joy.
Worst of all, there were multiple staff posts attached to the thread, and Amy's heart sank as she quickly investigated. Since everyone with a secret identity was masked, the moderators allowed it to remain up. Thus, a picture of Panacea flipping the bird to the motherfucking Butcher had now gone viral.
Ninety pages of comments, over one hundred thousand hits, in barely an hour. Amy took some solace in avoiding having pizza sauce all over her own clothes by distancing herself from the battle, as the PRT had needed to comment several times that the red stains were not, in fact, blood… not that anyone bought that.
Apparently, Amy was now a 'certified badass,' according to PHO. A small consolation prize for the ass chewing to come. Vicky's flight had slowed to a crawl as the pair browsed the thread, reading the comments and the ongoing debate. Amy had to suppress a chuckle when she saw Meteor earn herself a threadban — it served that Barnes bitch right.
The fact that the Butcher was remaining civil, and respecting all of the forum rules, and had even had the foresight to get the thread preapproved by the moderation team… Was the Butcher actually insane? Amy was beginning to have doubts that she didn't want to have.
Even with the slow flight, they arrived back home far sooner than she would have liked, and it was time to face the music. Vicky was still riding high on the amusement of the thread itself, and had already saved the picture to her phone and set it as her lock screen. 'To commemorate her badass sister,' she had said.
Carol, on the other hand, was much less pleased. Her adoptive mother was waiting at the door when Vicky landed, and there were cracks in her mask of perpetual stoic disappointment. "Victoria, Amelia. Come inside immediately."
The sisters shared an eye roll after Carol turned her back, but dutifully followed her into the house. Mark was in his customary armchair in the living room, so Amy and Vicky sat down next to each other on the couch to receive whatever lecture Carol had prepared this time.
She took a seat in her own chair and took a deep breath as if gearing up for another stern lecture about how disappointed she was at something Amy had, or hadn't done, or to fawn over her favored daughter for protecting Amy against the villain of the hour. She was just so tired of it that she could—
"I'm glad you're both unharmed."
Amy blinked.
"That isn't to say that I'm not upset with you, but…" Carol took another deep breath. "But first and foremost, you're both safe. That's the most important thing. Unfortunately, Victoria, while I commend your eagerness to protect your sister, you should have called me before joining such a dangerous and ill-advised operation against the Butcher."
"Oh come on, Weaver didn't even hurt anyone!"
Carol's eyes flashed dangerously. "You have no idea the depths of the Butcher's viciousness. As someone who has fought her several times in the past —"
"She's different now, Mom," Vicky said. "I've been keeping notes, and —"
"We are not having this conversation again, Victoria. And in any case, you're grounded for a week for not following protocol." Carol turned her attention to Amy, who had to fight an urge to curl inwards. "Amy, as the Butcher has taken an unhealthy interest in you, I want you to be accompanied by someone at all times when not in the house."
What the fuck!?
Carol couldn't be serious!
"Why would the Butcher care about me, of all people?" Amy asked acidly.
An unreadable expression passed over Carol's face. "I have reason to believe that the Butcher might target you due to your birth parents," she said slowly. "We took steps to protect you, but…"
Amy knew precious little about her biological parents, except that her father was a supervillain. So much had made sense when she discovered that fact, and every day she strove to not follow in his footsteps. Carol had never volunteered any information — indeed, Amy had overheard what little she knew — and so Amy couldn't help herself but ask, "Why?"
Carol shared a single glance with Mark. "It's not important right now."
"I think it is, if Butcher is going to come after me."
"Amelia," Carol retorted sharply. "Now is not the time. I will tell you if it becomes relevant. Now, for the moment your sister can accompany you to the hospital in lieu of being grounded, but I will make other arrangements next week."
"Fine," Amy grumbled at the same time Vicky said, "Yeah, alright."
Carol gave them one more glance that softened considerably. "Your safety is my primary concern, girls. Butcher XV is far more dangerous than she appears, so please stay safe."
Amy and Vicky took the offered dismissal and escaped to their own bedrooms, with Vicky agreeing to head to the hospital later.
Amy almost asked her to go immediately, but she wanted to get her head in order first. She flopped onto her bed as the conversations over the day replayed in her mind, starting with Butcher's oddly considerate bank robbery and finishing with Carol's tidbit about Amy's parents.
Why would the Butcher target Amy? Why was Carol so unwilling to discuss how Butcher XV was different? Why was Butcher so… nonchalant? Why did Amy find it impossible to believe, deep down, that Weaver was as bad as everyone so desperately wanted to assume? Why did she feel drawn to the latest incarnation of the terror that kept the Triumvirate up at night?
She doubted she would find answers to these questions at the hospital, but it might help clear her head. Idly, she pulled out her phone and flipped to the video she had recorded and pressed play, watching as Weaver once again made a complete joke out of the Wards. Her video even showed Weaver's speech about not wanting to start anything, and Stalker shooting first.
She was so calm, so self assured and there was little doubt that Weaver was in control. She watched Browbeat fall and caught something she had missed in the chaos; a scoreboard made of bugs at least a dozen feet wide as the bugs shifted from a two, into a three.
Amy frantically searched through the PHO threads and frowned. There wasn't a single mention of the scoreboard on the site, and the few videos featured missed the run up to the fight, as well as the scoreboard. Hers was the best by far, but she couldn't risk uploading it on her Panacea account. Carol would ground her until menopause. She checked her civilian account, but it was still banned after her last argument on the creative writing subforums.
Fuck it, Amy couldn't deal with this right now. She stood up and marched over to Vicky's room and, after a moment of hesitation, she knocked. "Vicky, I changed my mind. Let's head in early, I don't feel like being cooped up in the house right now."
"You sure Ames? You know you spend too much time there as it is."
"Yeah, yeah, but at least it isn't here."
"True enough, wanna drive or take the Glory Girl express?"
Amy shrugged, fighting the urge to blurt what she really wanted. "Let's take your car this time. It's less obvious and we should probably keep a low profile at the moment."
"Afraid your newest admirer might come knocking?" Vicky asked with waggling eyebrows.
Fuck, deflect. Deflect!
"Please, like Weaver would come looking for me at the hospital."
Vicky affixed her with a flat glare. "Amy, that is literally the first place I go to check if I'm searching for you."
Amy's shoulders slumped. "Point made… Let's just go."
She needed the monotony of healing the never ending tide of ungrateful pricks right now, and who knew, maybe she would get to refuse services to a Nazi or three in the process. If there was anything Weaver and her Teeth had been good for, it was that.