Recovery 1-2

"Are you feeling better?"

Nancy nodded at Taylor's question. This time the smile she gave the brunette was genuine. As far as she could tell it didn't even look like a grimace either.

Plus one for improvements. At this rate, maybe she'd be able to go on a secluded drive to the mountains by next Christmas. Not that she had a license. Though it's not like that would stop her. How hard could it be to drive a car anyway?

"Panacea - um, Amy I guess - said that you need to eat a lot for the next few days. So I made double. We have about another 30 minutes before my Dad gets home. If you don't finish, that's fine, we can just take it upstairs."

Nancy shoved another forkful of lasagna into her mouth. This really was great, even if it was slightly burnt on the bottom.

"Maybe I should get a bit more. Just to be safe. I'll get more."

Nancy reached over and grabbed Taylor's hand before she could leave the table. Taylor looked at their joined hands and sighed. Nancy let go and patted her hand, then pointed at Taylor's own untouched dish.

"I should…really probably wait to eat with Dad. He'll wonder why I made lasagna if I don't at least make an effort to sit with him."

Lasagna has sentimental meaning for the family. Taylor has avoided mentioning her mother. Likely a dish her mother made frequently. Mother's recent death is probable cause of Taylor and her father's distance.

Nancy stood and after rummaging in the cabinet for a moment, she held up her prize. Taylor's eyebrows lifted, but she held her tongue. Nancy, in contrast, shoveled some of the remaining dish onto a new plate, wrapped it with her pilfered foil, then took Taylor's food and wrapped that as well. Finally, she moved a smaller portion onto a free plate and held it out to Taylor.

Taylor's smile actually reached her eyes this time. "Okay, just a little bit."

As they ate, Nancy let the tension in her shoulders bleed out. Panacea had kept her word, she hadn't told Taylor about how useful Nancy could be. She had healed the physical symptoms, collected her sister, and left. She had, however, left her number with Taylor and, unless Nancy was very off her mark, a quiet word in the ear about New Wave.

New Wave would actually be a good idea for Taylor. She had the disposition for it. And while she couldn't fly, she could have a form of localized omniscience to a decent range. Few people - barring a Stranger - would really be able to get the drop on Taylor unless she was sleeping. Maybe not even then if part of her mind stayed aware of the signals that the insects around her were providing. You really couldn't ask for a better early warning system. No one would be coming after her out of costume like with Fleur.

Unless they used a sniper from range. Like Coil preferred.

Nancy dropped her fork and clenched her fists in her lap, her eyes squeezing shut as she pushed and pushed at the image of Taylor bleeding out on the asphalt from a hole in her head while insects dropped around her and masked men surged from the side streets towards Nancy as she clutched at the cooling corpse. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe and she couldn't -

"Nancy? Nancy!"

She sucked in a gasping breath, her eyes flying open. Taylor was staring at her, eyes locked on hers, her hands clamped on Nancy's shoulders. Nancy shuddered, shaking away the remnants of the image.

Everything was fine. She was fine.

She tried to smile again, but it didn't fool either of them.

"I don't have to stay down here. I can sit upstairs with you. The laptop sucks, but it has a cd drive and I can bring a movie up. Dad would understand."

Nancy shook her head. She gently pushed Taylor back and held up an arm to flex her non-existent bicep.

"I'd be more convinced if you hadn't just had a flashback," Taylor sighed.

Not a flashback. Flashforward.

She ruthlessly squashed that thought with a twitch of her lip and a prick of a fingernail against her palm. Instead, she gestured to the lasagna dish, raising her eyebrows.

"Hmm? Oh. It was my mom's specialty. I've never quite gotten it the same as hers, but it's still decent. One of the few things I can cook."

The burned bottom did put a question mark over that statement, but food was food and Nancy's stomach was not complaining. She patted Taylor's hand careful to avoid letting anything except pleasure show on her face. She also surreptitiously wiped the spot blood away from before Taylor could notice it.

She must have been at least partially successful since Taylor brightened up.

Then the sound of a truck rolling up interrupted anything that the brunette was going to say. Taylor's eyes widened as she looked to the kitchen window. "Dammit. Go upstairs! I'll clean up. I'll be up in about 15 minutes."

Nancy nodded, and hurried to the staircase. She glanced back just long enough to see Taylor rinsing off their plates in the sink, before she ran up to their room. No. Taylor's room. She was a visitor. A sleepover buddy. A friend. A guest.

"You'll be a guest here for a time, Miss Livsey. I do hope you come to appreciate the accommodations. The electricity for all of these screens is rather expensive after all."


Sarah didn't know how long she stayed curled up in the corner of the room. Long enough to be able to breathe. Not long enough to remember why that was important. Long enough to remember that Sarah wasn't her name anymore. Not long enough to remember what her name was. Long enough to crave the liquid wonder. Not long enough to rationalize the urge away.

The door opened and she flinched further back into the corner, plastering herself against the wood. Whenever the door opened Master or Pitter came. They brought demands or questions or the cursed liquid wonder and they -

"Sonofa -"

Taylor.

She wasn't in the poisoned cage with the white walls. She was in Taylor's room, in Taylor's house. Taylor had saved her, had gotten her help, stopped her from dying.

Taylor is safety.

Nancy lifted her head, even as Taylor dropped down beside her and wrapped her arms around her. Nancy leaned into the taller girl, letting her forehead rest against Taylor's shoulder. She didn't move until Taylor shifted. She felt one arm behind her back, and another under her legs.

"Try not to squirm. I've only recently started working out, I'm not exactly super strong here," she murmured.

Nancy chuckled, face still buried in the crook of Taylor's neck. It came out more of a strained whimpering hacking sound that could probably be called a cough on a good day. Taylor seemed to get the point as she made an amused snort back. The ground fell away a moment later as Taylor stood. She walked the few paces to the bed and gently set Nancy down near the wall, next to the pillow.

She let Taylor go as Taylor pulled back enough to grab her laptop and move it to the bed. Then the girl climbed back up next to her and wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulder letting her rest her head against her again as the movie started to play.

"I told Dad that I would watch a movie and do some homework. I think he's heading to bed early; he…really liked the lasagna and I think he needed some time alone. If you want to shower again when this is over that should be fine. If not, that's fine too."

Nancy nodded.

"I thought we should go for something funny and upbeat. Something to maybe take your mind off of things. Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?"

That she hadn't seen it was inconceivable!

Not that she could say that.

She sighed, wiggling closer to Taylor as Westley and Buttercup started making moon eyes at each other. What kind of stupid name was Buttercup anyway, who names their kid that? People who hate their kid that's who.

The irony of a princess being saved by a dark-clad Rogue from an evil would-be despot was not lost on her - though it was probably lost on Taylor.

Double ironic, since Taylor had just Princess-carried her and everything.

Taylor is safety.

Yes, power, she was. Which was going to make this all the worse when the castle inevitable crumbled and Taylor found out about her secret.