Chapter 10: The Hero I Am
When I woke up, it wasn't with the grace of a glorious girl ready to seize the day, but the sloth of a greasy engine sputtering about, unable to get going in the cold, cold morning.
In other words? I slept like fucking shit. My dreams were plagued by my regret and failure.
So I snuggled into my blanket like it was my cocoon, leeching strength from the posters that adorned the walls. All sorts of heroes were on my walls, from Alexandria and Narwhal to the local Protectorate and Captain Brockton, the Bay's first hero. However, my favourite one of all was my poster of Sailor V: hand raised to the sky, signed by her American and Japanese actresses.
I grew up loving Sailor V's adventures as she protected Japan and England from demons, evil capes and invading aliens with style, ingenuity and unbridled passion. She could be a diva sometimes, her head was perpetually stuck in the clouds, and she faced some heartbreaking struggles with love, but through it all, she built herself up into something unbreakable.
There was hope for me, there always was, but something had to give. I fell asleep again, woken up by the jarring sound of a fist banging against wood.
Mom was on the other side, harsh glare melting away like ice in sweltering heat.
"How are you doing, Vicky?" she asked.
"'m fine," I said. "Just tired." Cold, too. "Can I get a hug, please?"
She gave me a gentle smile. "Come here."
When Mom hugged me, I didn't care that she was kind of sweaty. She was warm, soft. I felt safe, even though I could lift a truck and she couldn't. I hugged her, and she rubbed my back in comforting circles.
After a while, Mom let go, still smiling.
"Eat first, get some energy. Then you can go back to sleep, okay?"
"Okay."
We ate breakfast together: a fluffy omelette with French toast and some orange juice. Dad was asleep, and Amy joined us, quickly savouring the garnish of peppers and spices that flavoured the omelette.
None of us really spoke, and since Mom was trying to make the dining room an iceberg out of sheer disdain, she must've been waiting for me to be fresh and ready for the mother of all tirades.
"You want to watch some TV, Victoria?" Amy asked.
I shoved down the orange juice filling my mouth. My breakfast was done, and it filled me up good. "Yep. Let's go."
"You'll stay," Mom said. "Leave us, Amy."
And here we go.
"What's going on?" Amy asked.
Mom didn't bother looking at Amy, keeping me in her sights. "Were you not taught how to control your powers?"
"I was," I said, as calmly as I could when my own mother was giving me the third degree.
"Then what do you have to say for yourself?"
I wasn't sure what set me off more: her clipped, scornful tone, her vicious frown or choosing to style her hair when she was dressed in her exercise gear. Instead, I took in a deep breath, let it settle my nerves.
"I messed up."
Mom glared daggers at me. "Precisely. Your aura is as much a weapon as your strength and your forcefield, and you chose to blast it at full force on a pair of criminals who posed no threat to you. Were you not concerned that Rachel would see you as an enemy?"
"Rachel?" Amy asked. "Don't you mean Hellhound?"
"I won't repeat myself, Victoria," Mom said, ignoring Amy again for no good reason.
If I stood up for my sister when Mom was on the warpath, I'd be dragging her into a battle nobody would win. I'd rather finish this conversation as quickly as I could... I was too exhausted to fight.
"Almost everyone I've ever saved thanked me for helping them."
"What did I teach you about assumptions?"
"They make an ass out of you and me?" I said, without thinking.
Amy laughed, but hot air blew out of Mom's mouth.
"Proper evidence removes all doubt. You knew that Rachel experiences abnormal reactions to emotional powers, you knew that your aura reacts to how others perceive you, yet you still went in, and do you know what the result was? Rachel was traumatized even further!"
I couldn't bear to witness Mom's anger, grimacing away, shame gripping me in its unbreakable vice.
"You're right, Mom. I got ahead of myself, and I made a big mistake. I'll learn from it, I promise."
That didn't mollify Mom one bit.
"You shouldn't have done this in the first place. Fortunately for you, Rachel was able to calm down –"
"Why are you even defending a villain?" Amy said, practically shouting to be heard.
This time, Mom didn't ignore Amy. She levelled her caustic gaze on her, and a thrill of alarm crossed her face.
"In that moment, she was a victim."
"But she's still a villain," she said.
Mom frowned. "I thought you understood. Do you even care about the patients you heal?"
Amy flinched, but she didn't cower away. "Of course I do! I healed Hellhound, damn it!"
Shit. This wasn't going to end well.
"It's all right, Amy," I said. "Just –"
"So you do understand," Mom said. A probing curiosity turned her caustic glare frosty. "Then why are we having this conversation?"
A scowl crossed Amy's face. "You always treat villains like they're dangerous animals, never to be trusted, but suddenly, you decide that Hellhound's different. What makes Hellhound so fucking special?"
Something dark covered Mom's eyes, souring her entire face. "How I choose to treat villains is my business. I never taught you to doubt yourself."
Amy's face fell, brown eyes filled with tears that she fought to hide. For the love of – what a low blow. I was about to go and give her a hug, but Amy stomped away. A door slammed in the distance. Back in the dining room, I caught the slightest hint of regret on Mom's face before it was crushed by an air of detached poise.
"That wasn't fair, Mom! It's fine if you care about Hellhound, but Amy's your daughter."
"She's my responsibility, as are you." Mom stared at her half-finished plate. "We shouldn't be having these conversations."
What conversations: Mom trying to doing more for Amy than cooking her food and doing her laundry, or me fixing my mistakes? I didn't bother asking; Mom was done talking, and my sister needed me.
But Amy wouldn't open up when I came knocking, and I waited so long I began to doze off at the door. I floated back to my room, shot Amy a supportive text – I know you care, and you have no reason to doubt yourself. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. – and took a nap. I woke up an hour later, fatigue still sticking to me like sweat on fabric, and checked my phone, immediately reading Amy's message.
Sorry for freaking out.
Want 2 tlk bout it?
I waited a while for another text, but she actually responded.
Sure.
Amy was still in her room, laying down with bloodshot eyes. I scrambled to find some tissues before I sat down on the edge of her bed, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently.
She shot up, frightened. "What happened to you?"
I frowned. "Bakuda gave one of her lackeys a freeze bomb. I saved Dean from it."
Her face shifted from shock to dismay. "You just had to be a hero. Well, come on, let me patch you up!"
Seconds later, the haze clouding my mind was gone and my body was thrumming with the energy of ten Victorias.
"Thanks, Amy!" I said, grinning at her. "You're amazing!"
Amy looked at her lap. "I wish I could've healed you sooner."
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. "Hey, don't worry about it. You must've been really busy last night."
She embraced me with both arms. "You'd think so, but Bakuda wasn't using any of her dangerous bombs." Relief suffused her face, mixing with a melancholy sadness that swirled in her listless stare. "I barely had to heal anyone besides Mark and Hellhound. I'm just glad you're okay."
For a while, I just hugged her, rubbing her back and petting her hair. She held on like I was her lifeline. Even when she was crying, she still put me first. I asked her for way too much, piled on pressure she didn't need. Amy didn't deserve any of this.
"Sorry about Mom," I said.
Her grip tightened. "Don't bother apologizing for her, and don't feel bad because Hellhound got affected by your power."
I tensed up. "What I did to Hellhound was exactly what you were warning me about."
"I don't care. Hellhound's a big girl, she can take it."
I let go of her, making sure I wasn't hearing things. But I heard her right the first time.
"What the fuck, Amy?"
"The only thing you fucked up on was ignoring everyone to jump the gun, but you didn't cripple Hellhound, so why should I care if she got scared?"
"Because I made her panic!"
Amy's bloodshot eyes were blazing. "Who cares? She's still a villain. She should be grateful that she isn't dead right now!"
My blood ran cold. Sure, Amy was still reeling, still angry, but it wasn't right that she buried whatever empathy she might have felt for Hellhound beneath mounds of resentment.
"I still screwed up. I don't care if she's a villain, I should've done better."
"And you will. But that evil bitch doesn't deserve your sympathy."
That bitch? I knew how to deal with brick walls.
"You know what? It's clear you're not gonna budge on this, so let's agree to disagree."
Amy blew out her lips. "Fine. You already got chewed out, so if you were let off with a warning, then our deal's still on."
What a relief. Amy grabbed the box of tissues I brought and wiped down her face until there was no hint that she ever cried... except for the blotches of red that freckled her eyes.
"You gonna be okay?" I asked.
I got a nod. Amy hugged her knees. "Would I be a bad person if I didn't care about my patients?"
"Hell no! I know you care. Mom was just being mean."
The ghost of a smile lifted her lips. "Thanks, Vicky."
I put my hand on her shoulder and gave her the warmest smile I could.
"If you need any help, you know who to call."
Amy nodded, but didn't say a word. I pecked the edge of her forehead, then kissed the top of her head and hugged her again.
"You're going to be okay, Amy."
She returned my hug, like she always did.
"I hope so... I don't want to be like this anymore."
This time, I actually resonated with what she was struggling with. My actions played a role in how I was perceived by the public. I always got the benefit of the doubt, but I couldn't just paper over the cracks forever and hope everything would work out. If I gave people a reason to be afraid of me, they would.
And when it came to the people I was trying to help... that was something I couldn't ignore.
The ABB's attempt at humiliating the Undersiders was a disastrous failure: their hostage was in PRT custody and the Undersiders were still free. Of course, it wasn't publicized that Hellhound freaked out because of me, but I wasn't complaining. However, there was always the chance that Bakuda could go apeshit, except with lethal ordnance.
In response, law enforcement was sent to protect soft targets in key areas, and that included Weymouth Shopping Centre. I actually finished up guard duty there an hour ago, so I decided to check out the various sales going on after I wrapped up my shift. Sure, there were fancier malls Downtown, but I really liked how Weymouth kept things simple and clean.
There was an uneasy mood among the public that gnawed at me, but it didn't affect everyone.
Parian pranced around in a royal blue Victorian-style dress with gold trim and white stockings, commanding her puppets with a wave of hands covered in white gloves, twirling in her red heels. With her golden braided hair, it was almost like Alice in Wonderland came to life, but her porcelain mask reminded everyone watching that she was still a cape.
I wondered where she got her courage from, or her panache.
"Thank you for watching!" Parian said, in a soft, demure voice, complete with a refined cadence. "I will be taking a brief intermission, but I shall return with a performance that will dazzle you all!"
She looked my way and curtsied after I gave her a wave. Behind Parian's stage, there was a security guard watching the rogue as she drank from a water bottle, but she stood aside after Parian let me come through.
"Glory Girl, it's a pleasure to see you."
I smiled. "The feeling's mutual. You can call me Victoria, if you want. I'm not in costume."
Parian stood up; even with her heels, she just barely reached my shoulders. "I appreciate that, but you still are Glory Girl, with a costume or without. I'd prefer to respect that, if you don't mind."
I shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."
"What did you think of the show?"
My smile grew. "I couldn't take my eyes off your puppets. They showed so many different emotions with just a few gestures, it was breathtaking."
She inclined her head. "I wanted to reflect the atmosphere in the mall today, help people forget their woes."
"You're doing a great job. I think it's really brave that you're trying to put smiles on people's faces in a time like this."
"You flatter me. I only try to entertain."
Entertain she did: Parian only got started last year, but she was already doing shows here at Weymouth and private parties for kids at Brockton General, among other places. She also had a following on PHO, Facebook and her personal website, where fans could vote for new puppet designs she'd show off at her next Weymouth show.
Unlike jackass cape celebrities like Bambina, it seemed like Parian hadn't let her popularity go to her head.
"Well, if you need an endorsement or something, I can get something cooked up for you."
Parian placed a hand over her heart. "You really would? I hope it won't be too difficult for you."
My smile didn't waver one bit. "Nonsense, it'd be cake. I'd love to help you out."
I'd have to talk to Aunt Sarah first to make sure everything was above board on New Wave's side. I also had to confess my crime to her, but I was still working up the courage to do that.
Before I could hand Parian my contact details, I saw a girl with red hair and a stylish red ensemble talking to a dark-haired girl with a loose black sweater and frumpy jeans. It wasn't a remotely friendly chat: the girl in red was smirking, slyly chiding the other girl with every honeyed word that oozed out of her mouth.
What made it worse was that I knew who the girl in red was. The other girl wasn't taking her crap, and said something that made her glamorous face twist in rage.
"Excuse me," I said.
Emma Barnes tried to lunge forward like she wanted to attack the dark-haired girl, but it was only a feint that she twisted to mock her victim. The other girl froze as I flew over, then she punched Emma flush in her arrogant face. Emma fell to the floor, mouth hanging open like a dead fish.
Then she saw me and clutched her face, swooning.
"What's going on?" I asked.
Emma looked up at me, crocodile tears swimming down her face. "We were just – "
"Not you." I faced the other girl. "What happened?"
The girl seethed, glaring behind rounded glasses. She was seriously pissed off, but she had nothing to worry about: more help was on the way. Shadow Stalker, former vigilante and current Ward, cut a path straight to us.
"Out of the way, Glory Girl," Shadow Stalker said. Between her gruff voice, black hooded cloak, dark gray camo fatigues, and her black mask, she played the brooding, violent loner to the hilt. "This girl is clearly dangerous and unwell. I won't risk letting her disturb the peace any further."
I scoffed. "She was defending herself. The redhead's the type of vile bitch who'd bully a disabled girl without blinking an eye. You sure you want to stick up for her?"
"What happened in the past is none of my concern. I'm here to enforce justice now."
She tried to move past me, but I wouldn't give her an inch. "I've got this handled. Why don't you help Emma get an ice pack?"
Dark brown eyes glowered at me. Shadow Stalker wasn't going to concede, and I couldn't force her to leave without getting violent. A crowd was starting to gather around us, captivated by our stand-off. Emma was milking her bruise for all it was worth, while the girl in glasses clutched her bag, searching for a way out.
However, Triumph came around, immediately grabbing everyone's attention. He was always popular, but after saving Dinah Alcott from being kidnapped, he was all but officially christened Brockton Bay's knight in shining lion armour.
"What's the situation, Stalker?"
"This miscreant was attacking this poor girl," she said. "I came to subdue her, but Glory Girl's been preventing me from performing my duty."
Triumph nodded. "What did you see, Glory Girl?"
I crossed my arms. "The redhead was bullying the girl in glasses, insulting her and provoking her when she tried to defend herself."
He nodded again, facing the other girl. "Explain yourself."
Her jaw clenched. "I warned her to leave me alone. But – never mind. You don't care."
Triumph frowned. "Try me." But she wouldn't give him anything to work with, so he sighed and turned his attention to his former teammate. "Stalker, back to your post. Take the redhead with you."
Shadow Stalker hustled over to Emma and pulled her up. Emma flinched away when I stared her down, knowing what I could do to her if she pissed me off. Then they left, just like that.
"Are you going to be okay?" Triumph asked.
"I'll live."
He smiled. "I understand you were provoked, but there are ways to beat bullies without taking their bait. Don't let them win."
The only response she gave was a single nod.
"Thanks for the assist, Triumph, but I can take care of things from here," I said.
Triumph scanned the area before he gave me the go-ahead, working to disperse the crowd, leaving me alone with Emma Barnes' would-be victim.
When I looked at her, her face was cast in the throes of doubt, like she couldn't believe that someone stepped in to defend her. Tall and spindly, she looked like she could snap in an instant, and I was convinced. She threw a mean punch.
However, before I could cheer her up, she walked away, moving faster as I flew her way. I caught up near the sporting goods section, giving her a bright smile.
"Must be nice to get some help from a couple of heroes, eh?"
"Shadow Stalker didn't help me."
What? I forced myself to laugh.
"I'm a hero, too, you know, with or without a costume. I couldn't stand by and watch that mean girl say all those horrible things to you. She's trash, and everyone should know that."
"Save it for someone who cares."
"Excuse me?"
She scowled, and there was no doubt in my mind: she was angry at me. "You heard me. Now leave me alone."
I helped her out of a jam, and this was how she treated me? Like, she had every right to be mad – after all, Emma Barnes was a girl who didn't seem bad until she realized she could hurt you – but she had no right to take it out on me.
"Just making sure," I said, managing to hold onto my smile. "By the way, I care, and I think you do, too."
"Who are you trying to fool? You're not better than Emma, you just helped me so you could bully her."
Is that what she thought? God, what an ungrateful bitch. Who the hell did think she was, someone special? Her long, glossy hair was the only thing that kept her from being plain and irrelevant. She should really learn some fucking manners.
That was when I noticed the sharp lines on her face, like she was bottling up thousands of indignities and miles of frustration. I looked past her righteous fury and saw a girl scarred and victimized, and it doused my anger completely. She must've been through a lot.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"None of your business."
Why did I even bother?
"Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot. If I did anything to offend you, anything that hurt you, I'm sorry, okay? I promise I won't do it again. I do my best to learn from my mistakes so I can be a hero that everyone can rely on. Including you."
If anything, that only made her even more mad, the way her jaw clenched and her face pinched up. Then she shook her head and walked away, holding her bag of goods like it was a sack of gold.
I let her leave, strangely relieved that she was gone in spite of her unspoken rejection. Being a hero came with its fair share of haters, and I was far from the exception.
Even so, that weird, angry girl lingered in my thoughts as I went back to give Parian my contact info, and she stuck with me as I flew home, because I couldn't help but think that she was more than what she seemed. It was too frustrating to dwell on, though, so I tried my best not to. There was nothing I could do to change her mind about me...
I had a long way to go until I could be forgiven.
