There was no way to stop thinking about what was truly important. Distractions were precisely that, distractions, mere stopgap measures. Sooner rather than later, the unwelcome thoughts bubbled to the surface, crying for attention.

There were the facts: She was a monster. And she didn't know what to do now.

The how or why were, thankfully, beyond her reach and therefore irrelevant. What mattered was whatever path she would take from here.

Amy had spent her life trying to be good. It was doomed from the beginning, maybe, and misguided, perhaps, trying to gain her family's approval, but she had tried. She had tried harder than many others, pushed herself until she couldn't anymore and then kept on going. Her efforts had backfired, wearing her down to her bones, numb and cold towards to the suffering of others. She was a monster in spirit, and in body too, if her new abilities were anything to go by. But she had never wanted to be one. Call it stubbornness or ingrained uprising, but she still wanted to be a good person.

Which clashed with the fact that she wasn't. Just the opposite in fact. Just as ingrained in her psyche as her need to be good was the fact that she was a monster. Something lower than scum, worse than her father had ever been, so bad it could hardly be called human. She couldn't even remember why but she knew it.

fear horror guilt despair
blame
monster

Did feeling guilt and regret make someone less of a monster? Not according to Amy.

The only possible way was to try and atone for it. Somehow. She not only didn't remember what she wanted to atone for, she also couldn't heal anymore. And as much as a blessing it sounded, to her own detached horror; it also left her without an easy way to make amends.

She had been without direction or ideas, but breakfast had given her one avenue she could explore until she figured out what to do later. Daniella's uncle was currently working on the clean-up crews. Nine hours a day for twenty dollars and all three meals. Anonymous and without strings attached, simple work for simple rewards. It was all she could have wanted.

She suspected she could go without food if she worked on her metabolism, but while yesterday's experiences had been unsettling, they weren't enough to make her reject the offer. It offered a semblance of normalcy. The money was always useful, of course. But the real attraction had been the opportunity to do something for the city. Something good.

The fact that nobody would look for Amy Dallon, a.k.a. Panacea, in the groups that handled the manual labor was just a very big bonus.

She would have to work in close proximity to a lot of people. Make contact with many, probably. But she could deal with it. She had to start somewhere.

So here she was, on the line to sign up with the cleaning crews for the day. She'd chosen the ones on the Docks, further away from the areas she knew and was known. Sabin himself was working on eastern downtown.

The man in charge was marking down names. He was tall, lanky, but had the air around him of somebody who was in charge. Come her turn he paused just a second. Not surprising, and not the first one either. She was obviously young, not to mention short and mousy. It didn't inspire much confidence in her abilities, but in the state the city was no one said anything. Who knew what her reasons were?

"First time?" He asked. She nodded and he frowned just a bit. "Are you sure you can handle it? It's hard work."

"I'm stronger than what I look." And she really was. Not only would she not get tired, she wouldn't get hurt either. And on her way, she had made just the slightest of changes on her muscles. She had been paradoxically unsurprised by the lack of damage she should have found on her tissues, so she took it just a bit further and added some more muscle mass, made the whole more efficient and powerful. Not more than the grown men around her, she wagered. Human, just a little bit stronger.

"All right, name?"

She couldn't give her actual name, but

Amelia Claire Lavere, you are in trouble young lady.

One of her first memories, reduced to sounds and blurs. She wouldn't have remembered it before.

"A… Claire. Claire Lavere."

"Right." He marked her down. "Do you know the rules?"

"No slacking off or fooling around."

He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "Or no pay. At the end of day I'll call people one by one and that's when you receive the money. I'm Danny. You join…" He looked over his shoulder and pointed at a jovial group with a mix of people from burly men to thin women. Some children were thrown into the mix too. "The guys over there. You can ask Kurt for any additional details." He offered his hand and she shook it.

Danny - epidermis dermis hypodermi

She broke contact as soon as she could, abruptly. Danny looked at her strangely but didn't comment. "Next!"

And that was that. Her first step towards… something better.

Working at rubble clean-up was surprisingly not boring at all. Their group had been tasked with removing smaller debris from the street, piling it up in trucks and carts to be dumped at the beach for the most part. It was picking up stone and mortar here, putting the random bit of wood aside, clearing a path for the water to flow down to the beach. Monotonous work. But people talked. They shared stories and worries, debated and complained. The city, the government, the gangs, rumors and hearsay, the fucking Endbringers.

Amy listened, mostly. She hadn't been out of the house and in the streets since the attack. Even before, she mostly stuck to the hospital. This was refreshing. She wasn't the only quiet one and the louder people talked instead. The group leader Kurt was one of those. He talked and directed them, seemingly untiring and utterly unconcerned about what people thought of him when he laughed out loud or grilled someone about something.

The sun was directly over their heads when he whistled sharply and took them back to where they'd signed up. Lunch time he said.

Plate with a bland meal in hand, Amy looked for an isolated spot. There were scores of people, younger and older, men and women. Few spots were free. After a good five minutes standing in the same place, she finally chose an empty windowsill to sit on. Sitting and eating, she roamed her eyes through the crowd, just watching the different groups. In her head, she went over Romeo and Juliet.

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Somebody greeted her, close enough that she could hear it over the crowd's background noise. "Claire." She recognized the voice instantly. It was Danny, from that morning. The tall man was making his way towards her.

Amy lifted her hand and mumbled a greeting. She tried to figure out why was he coming to her. She doubted he had figured out who she was. Had he come to check on her because of her age? Or because of her behavior? Avoiding physical contact with people was necessary, but her flinches drew odd looks. Or knowing looks. She was sure at least four people had their eyes on her, assessing her. Concern, pity, sadness… She couldn't tell but it was getting annoying. She didn't need it.

She was a monster. The last thing they should be doing was feeling sorry for her.

Danny obviously fell into the worried category. He leaned against the wall the window had previously been in and tried to strike a conversation. It was a terribly awkward exchange.

"How's the food?"

"Good." It was digested before it reached her stomach, consumed by the cells in her esophagus.

"Did the work go well? Kurt had nothing but glowing praise." So he had checked on her with her supervisor.

"I really am stronger than what I look." She could match the men in strength, she was certain now. She had to be careful with using her full strength in front of others. She had to brush off a couple of remarks with excuses about regular exercising. "It went well. They gave us gloves and boots, but they're a bit oversized." Amy doubted Danny didn't know that, since he was in charge around here.

"Yes, one size-only I'm afraid." There was another awkward pause. "Isn't the sweatshirt a bit too much for the weather though?" He wondered whether she was sick or not.

"Not really." She'd gone with long sleeves because they covered more skin and prevented accidental brushes with skin. But it was odd, especially with the hot temperatures. There was also the fact she didn't sweat anymore. It would become noticeable that she didn't, especially if she didn't show signs of fatigue for long periods of time. "Well, not yet. I'll change later."

"Okay." Danny fidgeted slightly. Amy was so still it seemed unnatural. "How old are you again?"

"Seventeen." In October only, but Danny didn't need to know that. And it was getting a bit personal. She could understand that he was worried, but she didn't want people prying. She didn't force the defensiveness in her voice. "Why are you asking?"

Danny backpedaled verbally. "I'm sorry." He smiled, but it was strained. "I just have a daughter almost your age. You remind me of her."

Family. "Ah." She couldn't say anything. Her shoulders hunched and she forced them to relax. She'd left the Dallons because

fear
betrayal
guilt

For their own good, because she didn't deserve them. She doubted Danny's daughter had the same troubles as she. "Worried about her?" She settled on asking.

Danny hung his head, silent for a moment. "Terribly." He looked towards the sky, getting more overcast as the time passed. His voice was sad. "But she's old enough. Parents have to trust their children to do what they want to as they grow up, no matter how much they worry. It's hard."

Amy got the implied message. "It's fine, I…" She almost choked up. "don't have a family anymore."

Not one that wanted her anyway. She doubted even Marquis would want a monster like her. Leaving had been in everybody's best interests.

"I'm sorry. For bringing it up."

"It's okay." It wasn't.

They spent some time just watching the gathered people eating their meals, in silence. Amy took in every detail, trying to drown her own thoughts.

Danny straightened up, getting ready to resume his post. "Just one more thing." His voice got lower, more serious. "I got warned a while back, told to spread the word. It seems like the Slaughterhouse Nine are in Brockton Bay."

blonde hair in ringlets crusted blood scalpels

Amy grit her teeth. "The Slaughterhouse Nine." That was bad. Very, very bad. Because it was the Nine, not because she felt like jagged glass had been jammed into her brain.

"Yeah." Danny continued, looking at her in concern. "That means... Shatterbird, and..." He left it hanging.

"I know." She knew better than Danny or any of the people in the street. She had read information that wasn't available to the general public. More than that, once she'd been called in to heal capes hurt when the Nine had passed through a city. The ones lucky to still be alive. Or unlucky, depending on how one saw it. "Thanks, for telling me."

Amy wondered if New Wave knew about it already, then cleared them from her head. The break was ending and she had work to do.

It was the best for everybody.