An arrow thunked into the tree, and I just groaned. Part of it was the fact I had missed it again. The other part was just my arm and back hurting. Between Wendy dragging me to the gym, and this practice, I'd be screwed if I hadn't followed her advice. Turning my awareness to my power, biomass shifted, and cellular processes were accelerated. The result was a soothing sensation as the salve leaked out through the leaf suit onto my arms and back. This had been such a good idea.

Thoroughly sick of whiffing on over half my shots, I plopped down. The bow melted away with a thought, gathering into an orb in my lap. There was still about an hour before I had to go home. Might as well experiment a bit. Not medicine, testing them on myself was risky. Poison was something I still didn't want to touch. Sure, I could whip up something that'd knock a grown man on their ass in a couple of seconds. Something that even considering an allergic reaction or poor health would knock them out of a fight. Slowly, the parts of a chemical chain started to click together in my head. Something that'd heighten pain sensitivity. Make my swings hurt worse, and put them down quicker. I snuffed the thought out.

It just felt villainous. Poison was something associated with assassins and murders. It felt… underhanded. It seemed like the kind of thing Carol would point out as a sign of a lack of morals. It was stupid, but I couldn't shake it. So I just moved on. No point in trying to improve my armor anymore, I'd already hit my limit with that. The leaf bodysuit was strong as I could get it without a lot more research and thought. The same thing with the wood plates, they were both suffering from the same issue. Weight. There were only so many cells I could squish together before it just got too heavy to wear.

Same issue with weapons, at least stuff like knives and arrows. Improving the bow didn't matter until I got better at using my current one. The thought of the bow made me scowl. It was dumb, but the lack of results was frustrating. I might be better off just throwing rocks at people. For some reason, that stuck in my head. Throwing things at people. My hand went down to the wood in my lap, scooping out a chunk of it. Mark threw grenades at people. His entire costume was themed around it. Why hadn't I thought of grenades before?

It wouldn't be hard to make an outer shell designed to crack on impact. Fill the interior to high pressure with… I stopped for a moment. Fill it with what? Acid? God no, too dangerous. Bioluminescent cells, so it functions like a flashbang? No sound makes it less effective. Something sticky? That was an idea. Containment foam was basically that. Something like grease? Slippery grenades were weird, but people wouldn't expect them. Maybe capsaicin? A pepper spray grenade would have an effect.

My phone buzzed. I froze, a dumb smile on my face and grenade half complete. A feeling of dread and terror passed through me. Carol knows. She knows I'm not at the house. How could she know I'm out here? Wait. My thoughts ground to a halt for a moment, before I realized how much of an idiot I was. There was no way she knew I was out here doing this. As far as she knew, I was just at the hospital again. Which… was probably better than being out here. Pushing the small kernel of guilt aside, my armor parted around my pants pocket.

Grabbing it, I felt even dumber when I realized it was a text.

Vicky: (12:37)
Need ur help. Know yr not at the house. Finnegan and Rochester, alleyway next to a neon sign.

My heart skipped a beat. Was Vicky hurt, was she in trouble? Why was she out so late? Wasn't she at the house? How did she know I wasn't at the house? My gauntlets peeled back to let me type a response back.

Amy: (12:38)
OMW

She needed my help. What I didn't know, but for sure, she needed my help. I started running. Stumbling on a tree route as I tried to figure out the best way to get to Finnegan and Rochester. As far as I knew, the next bus would be able to get me over there in thirty minutes or so.

My phone buzzed again. I stopped at the bus stop, panting a bit as I pulled it out to check. Another text from Vicky.

Vicky: (12:40)
Hurry.

The bus wasn't going to work. Quickly pulling up a map of the city, the best option was obvious. As well as awful. If I ran it, I could probably make it in fifteen minutes. It was just that running was going to be awful.

Dammit. Letting out a groan, I took off running. Before immediately noticing a problem. My armor was still on. There wasn't any time to ditch it though if she was in serious trouble. Fuck, if she was needing healing after some kind of fight or something, I might need it.

The fact that she might discover my secret didn't bother me. Vicky was more important. I didn't stop, just kept on running. Odds are the PRT would get reports about this. A strange cape in wooden armor running through the streets? Several people saw me, quickly hurrying to get out of the way as I passed them by.

My phone buzzed again. Then again. Every couple of minutes it buzzed again. Vicky was desperate, extremely desperate. If she was texting me this much, whatever the situation was had to be bad.

The mask rolled back from around my mouth, as my lungs became desperate for air. It was one thing to jog on a treadmill in gym clothes. It was another to run in full armor. My pace fell, I knew it did. Even as I tried to push myself to go faster, for Vicky's sake.

My body could only go so fast though. The minutes passed by painfully slowly. Between the burn that was quickly spreading through my body, and what situations Vicky might be in. It might as well have been hell.

I made it there eventually, Ferguson and Rochester. There was a big neon sign reading "Ferguson Pawnshop". That had to be it. Slowing myself to a walk as I was pretty sure I was about to die, I stumbled my way over to the alley. Turning the corner, I found myself staring at something out of a nightmare.

Vicky is surrounded by blood. It took a moment for me to realize that it wasn't her blood. She was kneeling next to someone, covered in blood. Pressing a bundle of cloth to their shoulder. They weren't moving. Vicky's head snapped up to stare at me. I couldn't talk, my lungs greedily gulping for air. "Who the hell are you?!"

She didn't recognize me? Wait, of course, she didn't recognize me. My face was almost completely covered, and the armor completely changed my figure. She didn't seem injured, which was good. Was this a shooting victim or something? Why didn't she take them straight to the hospital?

A vague thought entered my mind. In a similar situation in the past, where Vicky had panic-called me. If… if this was that situation, I was going to lose my shit. I wasn't going to not save this person's life, but if this is what I thought. Vicky needed to sweat.

The mask grew back over my mouth, covering it up properly. As well as adding a second layer on the mouth hole. Still panting slightly, I stepped forward. My mask shifted slightly on the inside, material warping to hopefully change my voice. With me purposefully putting on a false accent, it should throw her off.

"Sequoia. What happened here?" She blinked a bit, looking incredibly nervous as she got a good look at me. I finally noticed she wasn't wearing her costume. Instead, it was something that I'd wear, a hoodie and jeans. That was weird as hell. More importantly, the patient. A grown man, probably mid-twenties, didn't look like he took good care of himself. More importantly, incredibly pale and drenched from the chest down in their blood.

"I-I don't know, I found him here!" Freezing slightly, I turned to stare at Vicky. Did she… Did she just lie? Was she trying to pretend to be some random civilian? To save face? Just, completely ignoring what New Wave stood for?

A small growl escaped me. She leaned back, staring wide-eyed. Kneeling beside her, I jabbed a finger at her. "Glory Girl, cut the bullshit. Tell me what the fuck happened."

My hand was already going to the patient's hand, not trusting her to tell me quickly enough. What I saw wasn't good. He had lost a lot of blood. There was a hole going through his shoulder, a large one with splinters throughout it. There were also some broken bones, the only critical one being a rib that almost pierced a lung, and a cracked vertebra. There were lingering traces of bath salts in his system. "I-I was buying something, and he jumped me in the alley!"

Turning my eyes to her, she put them together in a pleading gesture. "He was crazy, attacking me like crazy. Kept going for the thing I bought. I tried to take him down gently, but he was on something! I eventually hit him harder, and well…"

Her head turned and I followed it. There was a blood trail leading down the alley. I could just make out what looked like a bunch of smashed crates. In particular, a jagged chunk coated in blood and bits of meat. "You threw him into crates. Why the hell didn't you fly away?"

"He grabbed on and wouldn't let go!" She said, wringing her hands. There was such a look of panic on her face, I was tempted to hug her. I wanted to scream at her for doing this again. The two forces went to war in my head. Shoving them into the background, my attention shifted to saving the guy's life. While also keeping my disguise up. Stopping any more blood from being lost was easy, clotting the wounds. As I went about making more blood to replace what he lost, my hand went to my armor.

Pulling some of the bark from my leg armor, I squeezed it in my hand. For the sake of appearances, I made some salve. The gel caught the light a bit as I shoved it against the guy's wound. Just holding my hand there, I forced the guy's lungs to work. He gasped for breath, still unconscious as I made sure he wasn't going to suffer from any serious brain damage. There were some signs, but that was the bath salt's doing.

"He'll live." Vicky let out a sigh of relief. "But he needs an actual doctor. I can't tell what other injuries he might have."

That was a lie I felt guilty about. That and not healing him fully right now. Pretending to be someone else to Vicky, surprisingly wasn't nearly as bad.

"I've already called for help. You turning up first was a surprise." She didn't mention that the help was me. Letting Sequoia think she called an ambulance? Using me as a get-out-of-jail-free card?

My anger flared, and I jabbed a finger at her. "If I hadn't got here, you'd have killed a man."

It was like I punched her. She floundered, sputtering for a moment. "H-he jumped me! When you've got super strength, getting startled ends badly…"

"Legend could shoot lasers when startled. Eidolon could do any number of things. It isn't an excuse." At this point, I was pissed. Excuse after damn excuse. If I stuck around in costume any longer, I'd say something that'd give me away. "You're a hero. Do better."

There was no room to argue. As soon as it looked like she might say something, I pushed myself up. Just walking away deeper into the alley, leaving her standing there upset. Just as upset as I was really.

It didn't help that everything burned. The adrenaline that fueled me through the run was gone. As soon as I was out of sight I staggered, leaning against a wall. For Vicky's sake, I ran across the damn city. To fix one of her little 'accidents'. To keep her from having to be held accountable. The one thing New Wave was supposed to be about.

My armor sloughed off me. It formed a biological soup under my feet. Just another puddle of random crap in an alleyway. Staggering back to the street, I tried to collect myself. Couldn't let Vicky realize that I had been Sequoia. The irony that I was going to chew her out, after using my secret identity wasn't lost on me.

I hadn't nearly killed several people. I reminded myself. This was the fifth time she'd done this. Five times she'd hit someone too hard. Or not paying attention to where she threw them. Or throw something at them without thinking. There was a big difference between me using a secret identity as an outlet, and her just committing police brutality. I turned the corner, back into the alley where Vicky still was.

My anger sputtered slightly at the sight of her. Sat there, miserably staring at the ground. She isn't miserable because she did it. I reminded myself. She's miserable because she got caught. It wasn't any different from those previous times. If this kept up, she would wind up killing somebody. It had to stop before that point.

"Ames!" Vicky jumped up, floating slightly off the ground. "Oh thank God you're here. Wait, are you okay?"

There's a man half-dead next to you, and your first thought is me? Part of me found it sweet. The other part just got angrier. "I ran here. From the bus stop. Get out of the way."

I stepped over as she hurried to get out of the way. Putting my hand on his head, I began to list off his injuries. "Severe blood loss. Major puncture through his shoulder. Broken shoulder blade. Cracked clavicle. Floating rib. Fractured vertebrae."

"I get it! Just fix him, please." The fact I was already fixing him went unsaid. I started as soon as I touched him. My eyes turned to glare at Vicky.

"I wouldn't need to if you could control yourself. Like you said you would last time this happened." There was an obvious edge to my voice. She raised her hands, letting out a small groan.

"He was on something! I tried a few times to get him to stop, but he kept coming for me. He was trying to eat my face!" That sounded accurate for bath salts.

"Oh, because nearly killing someone who isn't in their right mind is way better." Sarcasm dropped from my voice. Vicky frowned and crossed her arms.

"My aura wasn't doing anything! If anything he was just making him madder. Probably a gangster or something having a fun night." She grumbled and gestured to the man as if it was reason enough. My eyebrow twitched, and I finally exploded.

"Are you a hero or not?!" My scream echoed through the alleyway. Vicky jerked back with her flight. I stood up properly, leaving the patient. "Did Neil not spend a month straight teaching you how to restrain people? Did Carol not spend night after night drilling power responsibility into our heads? Did Sarah not take us both on patrols when we got our powers to show us the ropes? Is this what we do, maiming addicts in back alleys because they startled us?!"

"Amy I'm sorry but keep your voice-" I didn't let her finish that statement. "No, don't fucking tell me to keep quiet! I thought you were in serious trouble! I get a random text in the middle of the night asking for help. I ran here as fast as I could, thinking you were injured or needed support. No, no, you just need me to clean up one of your messes! Why the hell are you even out here at this time of night?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" She shot back, hands on her hips.

"You know exactly why the hell I'd be out of the house at night." It was a lie, but I was too angry to care. "Don't try to deflect. Why the hell are you out here? You're not even in costume!"

The two of us stared at each other for a few moments. Usually, I'd be the one to back down. Vicky must have gotten that I was pissed though. She reached over to a garbage can, picking three plastic bags up off of it. "I was buying Christmas presents."

… Christmas Presents. I was about to ask why the hell she went out at midnight to buy presents when I noticed something. One of the bags was unmarked, beside the logo. A V with an S through it. I recognized that logo. "You snuck out of the house… so you can buy Victoria's Secret?!"

"And other stuff!" There was embarrassment in her voice now, as she hugged the bags close. "Mom would freak out if she realized I bought this. The tabloids would have a field day. Since I was already out here… might as well get the other presents that I want to be a surprise."

"And they jumped you because you looked like an ordinary teenage girl." One hand came up to rub my forehead.

"I promise it won't happen again, Ames." She pushed past my glare, stepping forward into my space. Her arms wrapped around me, even as I tried to push her away. A few moments passed before I stopped squirming. Her smell and touch were too intoxicating to me. There was still a bit of anger smoldering in my gut, but I was just exhausted.

"This was different from those other times. This wasn't me losing my cool… I was nervous and just reacted. When I texted you, I was panicking." Her voice was a little more than a murmur. "I didn't want to be a murderer." I could see it. She walks into the alley to fly off unnoticed. This guy jumps at her, she just panics and swings.

"I appreciate you rushing out here. This could have been bad. Why don't we just fly home? The guy's fine now right? Probably will just think he had a crazy night." It was tempting. Letting out a small sigh, I pushed her away.

"Let me double-check. And it doesn't explain the mess of blood Vicky. Maybe he'll think he ate a rat or something." Putting my head on his head, I quickly went through everything. The only thing left was a minor fracture on his other shoulder. As well as the damage the bath salts did to his brain. I wasn't going to do more than give a cursory glance. The idiot did the drugs, the idiot suffers the consequences.

"He'll live. Let's just… let's just go." There wasn't any fight left in me. The run, the adrenaline, the argument, how late it was. It all finally caught up to me. The only thing I could think of was my nice, warm bed back at home. Vicky nodded, scooping me up in her arms. Then we were off.

Cool night air rushed over me, sending my hair flailing about. I snuggled up closer to Vicky for warmth. This didn't mean this was done though. It was just being tabled for a bit. Once I got some sleep, I'd get back on her case. She wasn't going to get out of this by being cuddly.

A/N: I pretty much knew exactly what I wanted to do with this chapter, so I got it out far quicker. This kind of thing had to happen eventually. Special thanks to the Cauldron Discord for helping out in terms of beta reading for plot and characterization.