AN: A Worm longfic! I do have a few chapters pre-written and a good idea of where to take the story, but no upload schedule for now.

This work is also available on Archiveofourown, SpaceBattles and SufficientVelocity, if you prefer one of those sites.

Disclaimer: My writing speed is highly irregular. Not day to day, but rather month to month. Sometimes, I write 2000 words per day, every day, for three months straight. Sometimes, I don't write a single word for five months. This means that when the writing is going well, I update regularly, quite possibly weekly. When the writing isn't going well, I might not update for several months. But I will always come back.

Amy removed the pathogens and other toxic contaminants from the girl's blood to avoid further complications, and finished off by healing her cuts. The black-haired teen – Amy's age – had already been thoroughly cleaned and showered by a nurse when she'd arrived at the hospital, yet Amy still thought she could smell whatever nasty biological waste she'd been exposed to.

Quite frankly, she did not want to know anything more. The hospital was always a gallery of the stupidest, most disgusting and most fucked up things humanity could conceive of, and there were already far too many people who told her about those things when she had not volunteered and was not volunteering to hear about them.

Though she hated herself for it, she was kind of glad that the girl had gone through a trigger event this morning – that meant she likely didn't want to talk about it. Though, with the way the parts of the brain that were processing information were buzzing, she suspected the girl wasn't going to wake up for several more days in the first place, even now that she was completely healed. Amy figured she probably had some kind of power that gave her more sensory inputs.

Then, Amy briefly lost consciousness, though she hadn't even planted her face on the girl's bed before it returned. The memory faded too quickly for her to make sense of, but that didn't matter to her.

Amy had gone through this exact feeling before. A trigger event. Befuddled, she reached out to the girl on the bed and checked the information she received about her brain.

It didn't add up.

Her brain was far quieter now than it had been, no longer processing a flood of information, and Amy could only assume that was because the girl had indeed been the one to trigger – second trigger, presumably. Rare, but possible. However, second triggers were said to require situations very similar to the first trigger.

Not only was there no such situation, but the girl wasn't showing any fresh trauma. Sure, there were some lingering traces from the trauma she'd gone through this morning, but that was all.

Also, she was about to wake up.

Amy backed off, standing next to the bed and trying to avoid showing a threatening posture.

Strange lights and incomprehensible noises invaded my senses. The constant torrent was overwhelming, unending. Amidst the impressions, a reduction in pain signals was barely noticeable, even when they were more vivid and familiar than the other constant pain signals, here and there and everywhere, like tiny pinpricks in the overwhelming whole. No matter how frequent, they were negligible compared to the other sensations.

Then, an interruption.

And suddenly, all those sensations were gone. Before my mind had learned to comprehend them, they had been cut off, like they'd never existed.

In the newfound calm, I quickly started to wake in an unfamiliar bed and an unfamiliar room. "What happened?" I asked nobody in particular, before my eyes landed on a slightly blurry form that I could nonetheless recognize as Panacea. "Oh, uh… thanks for healing me, I guess. Whatever it was I was suffering from exactly."

Recognizing Panacea made it easy to determine I was currently in the hospital, and I looked around, found and grabbed my glasses from the nightstand as I processed that information.

"Numerous cuts and bruises," Panacea responded. "The cuts allowed biological waste and therefore STDs to enter your blood stream, and some of the pathogens in there caused you to go into sepsis, which is why I was called in."

"Huh, that sounds bad indeed," I responded. Also, while I looked at Panacea something seemed to be nagging at me that she was both unhappy, and unwilling to exercise her powers for anything but healing – as, apparently, healing was only a small subset of what she could do. When I found myself wondering where those impressions were coming from, I realized that I had powers of my own, and that was what gave me this information.

Huh, perhaps there was a connection here? I might as well ask.

"Say, just before I was seeing all those weird flashes and hearing strange noises and everything, but that's all gone now. Did you heal that too?"

"You seem to have triggered," Panacea said, dropping into the chair next to my bed with a little more force than needed. "That means you became a parahuman. I think whatever was happening was related to that. I actually thought you weren't going to wake up for several more days because of it, and I was about to leave when you went through what looks on the surface like a second trigger, except those usually make minor changes to the power you already have, rather than change things entirely, and you also didn't go through any trauma that could explain a second trigger in the first place."

I frowned. I definitely didn't think my current powers – and I was very quickly getting a good feel for them, which was apparently part of them as well – had anything to do with those sensations. And while my power-induced intuition was much more blurry here than when it came to understanding my or Panacea's powers, it did seem to agree, or at least partially.

"Weird," I responded. "Well, I feel fine now, I guess. Better than I have in quite a while, actually." She tilted her head.

"Before you ask," Panacea said, "I will not reveal the fact that you have powers to anyone else. Doctor/patient confidentiality."

I made to exert another of my powers, but thought better of it. "Oh, wait, I guess I shouldn't do that while in a hospital bed. I think I got a decent idea of what I can do, though."

Apart from everything else, it was certainly still pushing me about Panacea's current problems. And how I could use them to gain her trust and perhaps friendship – or loyalty, but thinking that made me feel a bit strange. Like I was trying to recruit her. It didn't help that I was surprisingly eager to entertain that idea.

Apart from that, though, I could see two very good reasons to broach the topic. First, Panacea was trying to deal with her issues by ignoring them, which would only make things worse in the long run, and no one seemed to be aware of it. And second, I really wouldn't mind perhaps having a friend again.

I sat up in the bed – no pains, no anything, not exactly what I'd expected to feel like after waking up in a hospital – and turned to the healer. My power even helped me find the right angle of approach. "Do you mind me being rather blunt towards you for a moment?"

"Do your worst."

"You'd probably be happier if you used your powers for more than just healing."

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm a healer. My power doesn't do anything else."

Bullshit. You're a biokinetic, quite possibly the most potent one in the entire world.

"I'd tell you that you were being ignorant, but you know very well that your power isn't limited to that," I responded, unrelenting. "You won't turn into Nilbog just because you play around a little with some plants, you know. If you're worried, you can just start off with sterilizing anything you touch – well, except people here in the hospital, of course." I chuckled.

"I-I can't just…"

"Yes you can, and you should. Powers want to be used, and they want to be used in new ways. Your power already knows how a human works. So it gets all moody and all that when you keep using it only to fix humans, and that makes you moody in turn."

"I'm not moody!" Panacea exploded.

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, that was a bit too blunt from me. But seriously, give it a try. Start simple, reverse the black and yellow on a wasp or a bee or something. Just harmless things. Have some fun." Not that that was quite what her power wanted her to do, but it certainly beat the same boring old thing every day again by a mile, and would probably be sufficient to stop things from going sideways.

"What the fuck do you even know about powers?" Panacea demanded. "You didn't even have any until today!"

I shrugged. "Can we agree that I had no way to know what your power really does unless my power somehow informed me?"

She nodded reluctantly, calming down somewhat.

"In just the same way, my power also informed me that you're not using yours well. I'm just telling you what I get from my power, here. Think about it, okay? No need to do anything."

"And then what?" she asked. "You're gonna tell me to do it next time? Sure, it's a small step to change some plants, but they're all small steps. And before you know it, I'm changing people."

"You don't have to do anything," I responded. "I'm just hoping it can make you happier, you know? I'm… still kind of figuring out my power, but it's practically shouting at me that the way you're using your power, or rather not using it, isn't healthy. Like a flashing neon sign above your head."

"What makes you think it's your business?" she asked, though she seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "My power, I guess? It's… it makes me want to help people to be and do better, kind of? Not quite what it does, I think, but it's somewhere in that direction." Actually, it specifically wanted me to recruit people and to help people use their powers more effectively, but this was close enough to the truth.

"So basically, you're saying your power makes you want to help people out?" Panacea asked dubiously.

"I don't know? I guess," I responded. "Not all it does, though. Hey, you know what, you said that my power was acting a bit weird earlier, right? With a second trigger that shouldn't have happened. Give me your number, I need to get myself a phone anyway, I'll add you and we can talk about it. You can check up on me in a few days to see if any other strange things happened, and then you'll also have had some time to think about my suggestions. Plus, I can show you the other things I can do."

It was a stretch, but there was no way I was getting through to her in a single chat, so I'd have to get her to meet up with me again. Also, I really did need to get myself a phone.

"You don't have to show me your powers," Panacea objected.

"And what if I want to? Besides, I could really do with some friends, and if I'm going to be a cape anyway… Well, I'd rather make friends with a hero than a villain."

Panacea remained silent for the better part of a minute, clearly thinking it over and weighing her options.

"I don't even know your name," she eventually said, rather than answer.

"Taylor Hebert," I responded. "Pleased to meet you, Panacea. Amy Dallon, if I remember correctly?"

She nodded. "Yes. You have your phone here?"

"I don't have one yet," I said. "My mom died a few years back because she was calling while driving. My dad and I… we kind of made it a rule, no mobile phones. But I think that maybe we've kept to that for long enough."

Panacea found a piece of paper and a pen and jotted down her number. "Here you go. Just send me a text with your name so I can add you."

"Thanks. Have a good day."

The girl snorted, but didn't elaborate on what she was thinking.

"You're cleared to leave," she instructed, "though you don't have to do so immediately; you can stay a few hours longer. Also, apparently your father is on his way, and should be here any moment now. Goodbye."

She left, and I quickly changed gears to prepare for my dad's visit. No doubt, he'd be asking some uncomfortable questions about Winslow.

"Let's order food for dinner," Dad suggested as we entered the house in the late afternoon – it was just getting dark outside. "I don't think either of us feels up for cooking right now."

I voiced my agreement. I'd told him – in brief terms – about the bullying, mostly because I needed to explain how I'd ended up in the hospital in the first place. However, there was much more left to discuss, and I was starting to assemble a few plans in my head – plans with which Dad might interfere if we didn't discuss things, which meant we'd have to do exactly that. I hadn't even named my bullies yet, as I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to keep Dad from calling Alan if I did, but I wouldn't be able to delay forever.

"Let's sit down," Dad suggested.

I took my favorite place on the couch, mentally reviewing what I wanted out of this conversation.

"There's something I didn't tell you yet," I started.

"You mean apart from who your bullies are?" he asked. I couldn't blame him for not understanding why I was withholding the names for the moment.

"Yes," I said. "Panacea told me after I woke up, though I'd probably have realized it quite quickly myself, but… I got powers, with what happened today."

His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "You mean… you're a cape?"

I nodded. "Yeah. That's got to do with the other things I only wanted to talk about now that we're home, as well."

He looked pensive for a second or two. "That's going to require some getting used to. But perhaps, before anything else, I should ask you what your powers can do?"

"I don't quite understand the limits myself yet, but I do have some instinctual understanding."

I stood, checking that I had enough space to my left and right. Things should fit, so long as I was careful. Then, with a mental command, I changed. My body and clothes turned to something that could only be described as solid light, no matter what physics thought of the idea, and two large wings unfurled from my shoulders, almost touching the wall on one side and the window on the other – and I didn't have them extended all the way. My wingspan had to be close to twenty feet. The wings were made from the same solid light as the rest of my body, though they showed a pattern as if they were made from feathers, and every part of my body glowed softly, though it was difficult to see in the late afternoon light of January.

Dad looked at me with wide eyes. "Wow… You definitely look the part of a cape, Taylor."

"Thanks," I said with a smile. My voice had changed with my appearance; I sounded powerful, yet not overbearing, and my intuition told me that a very faint echo was present – though I couldn't discern it through the distortion inherent in hearing my own voice.

Dad returned the smile – and how long it had been since I'd seen him smile. "Is it your power that's making me feel better?"

"Probably," I said. "While I'm in this form, I inspire hope and resolve in my friends and allies, and doubt and fear in my enemies."

"Hope that things might get better…" Dad said softly. "I don't think I realized how much I missed that feeling until now." He refocused. "So can you fly?"

I hovered a foot into the air. "Yes," I replied. "And I don't need my wings for that, though I'll probably use them if I'm outside, just because it feels more appropriate." I held up my hand and formed a sword out of the same solid light that I was currently made of. "I can also make a variety of weapons like this, mostly medieval stuff, I think; no guns, but I can make a bow and arrow. I'm also difficult to hurt or harm, and I heal more quickly."

I changed back to my normal form, gently dropping the foot back down to the ground, and sat down again.

"A very impressive power indeed," Dad said, still working to get over his surprise.

"It's not quite all I can do," I said. "The things I showed you, they only work while I'm in that form. The other stuff… I don't understand it as well as my alternate form, but I think that when it comes down to things, it makes me good at being a leader, or just being in charge of people? It's like… I'm better at figuring out how to convince people to follow me and listen to me, and after that I'm better at decisions like who should do what? I'm not sure, my intuition isn't as clear as it is on the other form I can take."

"Either way, it sounds like parenting you in the future is going to be a breeze, with no difficulties at all," Dad teased. I was pretty sure he was still riding the high from feeling hope for the first time in years.

"Of course," I replied magnanimously. "Also, I think I can recognize other parahumans with it, but I'm not certain of that. It feels right, but maybe the only reason I recognized Panacea as a cape was because I already knew that she was. Oh, right, and I'm pretty sure I can help other parahumans understand their powers better, or something."

"That's… a lot," Danny said. "Don't most parahumans have just one single ability?"

"There's… what are they called?" I snapped my finger a few times, trying to remember. "Oh, right! Grab-bag capes. Maybe that's why? I don't know."

And then there was the bit Panacea had told me, about the weird trigger event or whatever it was in the hospital, and the strange, unfocused sensory inputs I'd received before that. But I kept that bit to myself for now. It would probably only make things more confusing.

Dad asked me what I wanted for dinner and then went to make the phone call, briefly leaving me alone with my thoughts.

"Alright," he said, after hanging up. "With that out of the way, let's talk about what happened at Winslow next."

I nodded. "Yeah. But there's a reason I wanted to tell you about my powers first."

"And that is?" Dad asked.

"I want to know what I can get done myself, using my power," I revealed. I'd considered keeping Dad in the dark on this plan, but I'd decided there was no way he'd leave things alone long enough for me to actually have a chance of executing it, unless he knew about it.

"Explain," he said, seemingly barely refraining from using his Dad Voice.

I took a deep breath. "The main bullies are two girls I've never told you about, Madison Clements and Sophia Hess, and… Emma."

Dad looked shocked for a second before anger overtook his expression. "Emma? As in Alan's daughter?" He practically jumped out of his chair, clearly meaning to give his old friend a call.

"Dad, wait!" I called out.

He took a deep breath and turned to me. "Why?" he asked. "What made her decide to do… this?"

"I don't know," I responded honestly. "But I was thinking, with the power I have now… I might be able to finally figure it out. And maybe… just maybe…" my voice grew small, "maybe I can use it to get old Emma back. My Emma."

I choked down a sob, and just like that my resolve broke. Dad was next to me in a second, holding me as I cried into his chest. And for the first time, in a year and a half, I cried for Emma. Not tears of anger over the hurtful things she said, not tears of grief over my loneliness, not even tears of hate over how she'd ruined my life. No, tears for the friend I'd lost, my sister that had been consumed by a monster wearing her face. Never before had I actually lamented her; first I had been in disbelief, then by the time that wore off, she was already so distant that I thought only of the demon that used me for her own amusement.

Please, I thought to myself, please let her still be alive, somewhere in there. I wasn't sure if I could live with the alternative. It certainly hadn't been a success so far.

There were days Rebecca was incredibly glad for her eidetic memory.

Today was absolutely one of them.

Dozens of cape profiles were freshly burned into her mind, every single cape known to the PRT that operated in Brockton Bay. From big hitters like Armsmaster and Lung to small-time thieves and rogues like Regent and Parian. Even Cauldron's resources had chimed in, with files on Coil – the PRT didn't even know whether he was parahuman – as well as a few other vial recipients.

This morning, Contessa had reported major changes in her active Paths, some growing and others shrinking in length, and she'd determined the source of those changes to be Brockton Bay. Most likely, a newly triggered parahuman that was going to quickly rise to prominence, potentially to the point of removing or taking over one or more of the gangs.

This meant that, when Contessa suddenly video called Rebecca, it didn't exactly do wonders for Rebecca's mood.

She accepted the call, turning her attention to the screen. On the other side, Contessa was of course not doing the same, instead typing away on two keyboards at once and using tinkertech eye-tracking software to operate a third computer. Her feet were likely active as well. Perfect motor control made typing with your toes surprisingly possible.

Rebecca was used to not having eye contact with Contessa during these calls, so she just moved on. "Please tell me it's not Brockton Bay again."

"It's Brockton Bay again," Contessa said.

"Did it start already?" Rebecca asked. That was unlikely, however; if unrest in Brockton Bay was already starting right now, then Contessa would've known about it this morning already, and she'd have told Rebecca. Well, unless her Paths had told her not to.

"No, worse," Contessa said.

Well, fuck.

"Worse?" Rebecca repeated.

"A blind spot appeared in Brockton Bay just earlier this afternoon."

Fuck, indeed.

The total number of blind spots Contessa had across all of Earth Bet could be counted on two hands. Scion, the three Endbringers, Eidolon, Glaistig Uaine, Jack Slash and the Butcher. There were a few more capes that gave her trouble, such as that one leader of the Fallen, but actual blind spots were vanishingly rare. And this was the first one to appear since the Butcher in 1992 – in the same city, in fact. Well, the first one since then unless you counted the Endbringers, but this wasn't one of those.

Or was it?

"Could it be a fourth Endbringer?" Rebecca questioned. She was sure she would've heard something about that already, right? She did a quick check-up. Brockton Bay had sent no distress signals, and neither were normal communications interrupted.

"So far, I haven't seen anything to imply that," Contessa said. For this very reason, she had Paths that would trigger automatically if a blind spot appeared. They would look for sudden cape deaths, large-scale civilian casualties or a number of other, similar things happening in the area near the blind spot.

"Let's hope it stays that way," Rebecca said. "Not that it's worth much, considering all blind spots are major headaches anyway."

"Except Eidolon."

"I said what I said."

The woman giggled. Rebecca sometimes wondered how she could be amused by things when her Path saw everything coming a long time in advance, but when she'd asked, Contessa had given a somewhat vague reply that it 'just worked that way'.

"I'll keep an eye on Brockton Bay," Rebecca said. "If it's not an Endbringer, it has to be a cape unless it's something completely new. That means they'll have to show up in the regular reports at some point, at the latest when they first act in public."

"And blind spots don't have a habit of sitting around doing nothing," Contessa finished her thoughts. "Send all information you gather on them to me immediately so I can start working on the model."

"Of course," Rebecca responded.

Contessa ended the call.

Rebecca sighed. It was amazing how much she could feel like she had a headache even though it was impossible for her to have one. And that on the first day after the Christmas break.

AN: Join my discord server here: /xKJKNjY