[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
It turned out Doctor Widmark didn't actually direct the plays.
That was actually a task the patients took on, under supervision. Which made more sense, I think. It was their project. A therapeutic kind of thing. Doctor Widmark didn't ask why Mimi and Elle couldn't stop on by, instead simply asking if I'd like to direct.
I was... I was not opposed to the idea. I asked Doctor Widmark if I could think about it. I think the only time I'd been in a play was fifth grade... I couldn't even remember what it was about, or what part I had. All I could remember was Emma talking excitedly about how we'd get to use makeup (a big deal back then) and the sight of my parents sitting proudly in the middle rows, looking up at us.
That night, I sat on my bed, slumping with my elbows on my knees, siting on my bed and wishing deeply fervently that I could sleep. It would be nice, to escape from thinking for a few hours. Just drift off and lose myself in formless limbo...
I rubbed my face and looked over at my computer.
...
Oh, yeah. My email. I kept putting it off, trying to find the time, and here I was. The time had found me. It was a strange thing to think, I didn't even need to sleep anymore, so why couldn't I find time to write?
I turned my computer on. Waited for it to boot up while massaging my neck. I had a tension headache coming on... I wondered if I ought to take up meditation. That was supposed to be as restful as sleep if you got good at it, right?
Half a dozen unread messages blinked at the top of my inbox queue. Emma, Mom. I hovered over the oldest, one of Emma's, then clicked it.
At first it was a mundane recounting of high school events and minor local events in Brockton. Dropping temperatures and the onset of autumn. Anticipation for upcoming Halloween, some costume ideas.
The second was a bit shorter, sparser. Emma said hi and that she missed me, but it was mostly empty space.
Was that Emma? It didn't feel like her, Emma was gregarious, and the stilted, awkward small talk... it sounded alien, imagining it coming from her. I just... couldn't see it.
The third was...
I stopped and blinked, re-reading the third email.
From: LovelyGinger
To: GestatingTeneral
Hey, Taylor
It's weird not having you here. I didn't end up going out for Halloween. I guess it was time to start growing out of stuff like that. Remember when you went as Alexandria? I remember.
I also remember seeing that one lady that went as Narwal. Now that's something you don't forget!
There were police cars out all night. Mom didn't let us out of her sight. Ann 's still off at Cornell, maybe she went to a party up there. I wanted to go out with Madison. I kind of thought I'd go as that new french hero, the one from the last Endbringer fight? The fox themed one that joined Coccinelle 's team? I forget her name, she had a great look.
I was kinda looking forward to that.
Mom wouldn't let me go out and watched me like a hawk all night so I didn't try sneaking out. Madison called and said her mom grounded her too. We had a sleepover! Watched a bunch of scary movies. Mads is fun, but it wasn't the same. Madison says she saw a girl in the locker room a week ago- she had a Fae Eye tattoo. So I guess the Fae are setting up shop in Winslow now.
We heard gunfire around midnight. I guess Mom was right. There's too many big gangs, they're fighting all the time. A bunch of the cheerleading squad are Fae, and everyone knows it. Mom wouldn't let me try out because there's a rumor going around that Ingenue is recruiting girls as prostitutes.
Highschool isn't a lot of fun without you.
I miss you, Tay
I sat back, swallowing past the tightness in my throat. There it was, that complicated muddle of emotions that had pinched so much when she had visited. The distant ache of sadness without a source. The companionship and old love, like a comfortable place. The cloying undertone of bitter jealousy. Something I'd never expected to find in Emma, not towards me.
Emma was smart and beautiful and popular, she could slip into a conversation like she'd always been there and make everyone feel like they'd known her their whole lives. Emma had always been the voice, the outgoing one, she never had trouble talking to people. Building up her impending visit in my mind, I never imagined her being the quiet one. The one waiting for me to talk.
The one that needed me to talk to her.
Something... Something was wrong. I had known that something was wrong, and I didn't know how to make it right. I didn't know what to do.
This wasn't a power problem. I couldn't solve it as Auspice, no parahuman had known Emma. None had grown up with her, and knew something was wrong. I had to solve it as Taylor, and I'd never really known how to solve problems as Taylor. But what could I do? I wasn't even in the same state, and I didn't know if I would have known what to say even if I could see her every day. This wasn't a problem my powers could solve.
But she wasn't here now. And I remembered Mimi. I remembered that I hadn't known how to use my powers when I'd seen her, not really. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I thought of Emma, the last time I'd seen her. And l remembered loneliness.
So much like the loneliness I'd sensed in Mimi that first day.
That thought stuck with me. I sat down and started to type.
From: GestatingTeneral
To: LovelyGinger
I miss you too, Emms.
You and Mom and Ann and every stupid, wonderful thing in Brockton.
I hesitated. I... I wished I knew what to say. I had no idea what I wanted to say. What I ought to say.
Frustration bubbled up, and I clenched my fists, and breathed deeply. It was just like trying to help Mimi, I wanted to help, but the answers weren't something I could just do.
I started typing again.
There are some more Protectorate heroes around Alchemilla now. One of them is a former Patient, and she's really cool!
She's had to struggle a lot, to become a hero. It's really encouraging to know that she was able to overcome all of that and join the Protectorate. And, it's also a lesson. Wish I could tell you more. Next time you come on by I'll tell you all about her.
Part of being a hero is-
What did I know of being a hero? Did I really deserve to say that? I'd never done anything great with my powers. Never fought crime. The most I'd accomplished was maybe get a few minutes on the news for- for killing someone good.
The words on the screen felt like lying, like I was a fraud.
...
I deleted the line.
She became a hero because someone helped her. Because someone didn't give up on her.
Do you remember all those patients I told you about? I'm working on helping a bunch of them. I want them all to get out of Alchemilla, help them get better. It's hard because a bunch of them have been here for a while and they've kind of given up. But I'm not going to let them. They're my friends.
Emms, you're my friend too.
I know can't be there for you right now, but when I'm released I'm going to be a hero. We're all going to be heroes.
Stay safe. We'll all be heroes one day. And you'll be there too.
I sat back, and took a deep breath. It came out as a sigh.
Send.
The next letter was from Mom.
From: JoinedinDeluge
To: GestatingTeneral
Hey sweetie.
I've spent most of my life ignorant of parahumans, about their lives. There really isn't and excuse for it. The past months I have discovered just how deeply my ignorance runs. I've been doing my best to correct this failing.
I've been talking to several professionals that deal in cases like ours. Parahumans with very public trigger events, or powers they cannot control fully. There are options, and I am looking into them. I can't promise anything at this point. I'm sorry.
In the meantime, I want you to remember.
Power is not something you get because of some tragic circumstances. It is not some burden you are shouldered with. You don't have to be powerful to do good. The desire, to do good, can itself make you powerful. The means to improve, yourself, the world, it always exists as long as you have the faith to use what you have to change something, anything for the better.
Optimism is not a perfect world, not a state of existence where everything is perfect and fair. It is the belief that with time, things will get better.
I've tried my best to teach you to do and be good, and nothing I have heard from you, and from the staff at Alchemilla has been anything but good. I'm proud of you.
I reached up and massaged the back of my neck, willing the tightness away. Breathed deeply, carefully.
The days blurred together when you couldn't sleep, and my moods the past few days had run a gamut, from the emotional hollow following Mimi's disastrous therapy session, to the uplifting foundation I had found in Feral. She was amazing, and talking to her had helped ground me throughout the day. But, now that I was alone, the emotional exhaustion hollowed me out again.
Feral was always smiling. It was a little eerie, I hadn't realized how rare smiles were here before she showed up.
Having her sitting in on a group meeting lent a surreal element I hadn't expected. She was larger than life, personable, charismatic, fun... everything I wanted to be as a hero. I found myself intimidated in a way I hadn't been while the Masked Man stalked us.
What was more, there was a deep-seated dissatisfaction, anxiety... I couldn't quite give it a name besides- energy. Ticking away inside my veins and nerves, itching, itching. Trying to escape.
My fingers worked the back of my neck, but the tension remained. I started writing.
To: JoinedinDeluge
From: GestatingTeneral
Hi mom.
I won't forget. I
I
I'm not going to
My hands stilled, the uncertain typing stuttered to a halt, and my arms fell to my lap. I stopped.
I stared at what I'd written for heartbeats, until it started to blur in my eyes and I had to lean back and away from the screen. I didn't know what to say.
I breathed deep and looked down at my lap where my hands rested. My hands, they were shaking. Why were they shaking? I stared at my fingers as they shivered on my thigh.
I itched. I was... afraid? No. I shook my head. That same lack of focus, and the itch pressed in. But it was soothed a little because Mom knew exactly what I needed to hear.
I shouldn't have gotten a power. Mom- Dad- my parents should have gotten powers. Mom always knew what to say. How to say it. She would have been like Feral- a force of good nature that moved through a crowd and lifted heads, lifted hearts. She'd heal, inspire, and uplift. She'd lead with love.
And Dad.
My memories were starting to fade, but Mom remembered him enough for both of us. Tall, lean, stronger than he looked. He had a temper, and he fought it, but it also gave him strength. He cared about justice, Mom said, and he never backed down from anything he believed in. He'd worked with the dockworkers union, helped people get jobs and fair pay, Mom said.
I sat, thinking about them both. I'd be a hero. The kind of hero they'd want me to be.
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
I closed my email unfinished. I'd come back to it in a bit, when I'd found better words. Focus returned as I browsed pages on PHO.
The Machine Army had skirmished with the heroes again, the PRT on Eagleton's perimeter had doubled down on patrols. I clicked an old video on the PHO page (an old, grainy cellphone video from back when the Machines initially emerged, no audio) showed the inside of an office building with wood panel walls and cubicles, desks, chairs, an paper and a copier in the corner. Shelving.
Something moved in a corner, a flicker of movement, the camera moved, jittering wildly, but whatever had spooked the cameraman was gone.
I closed the video. It was an old one, everyone had already seen it, myself included. The machines would mimic everyday objects, wait until the group was too far into the building, guide them in deeper by blocking halls, locking doors. Then the way back would just... be gone. Then the coffee cups, the chairs, the desks, they would all turn back into the Machines and then-
The video wouldn't have what happened next- it was always edited to cut that part out, but always went on long enough to guess.
I shivered.
A traitorous thought niggled at the back of my mind. Nick, eyes hollow while he shared his fears for Heather. Saying they were used up and burnt out. Attrition rates.
Cold shivered up my back. When heroes had first appeared, there had been a riot. Something to do with sports. A hero had arrived on the scene, Vikare. Many thought of him as the first hero.
And he'd been hit over the head. Died on the way to the hospital. That was all it took.
Before I came to Alchemilla, I hadn't thought about parahumans as people; fallible, mortal, fragile people. Mimi wanted to go fight the Machine Army if she got out, with a forlorn, distant hope because she thought maybe she'd get to use her powers in a beneficial way. I tried to imagine her fighting the Machines, and my gut twisted painfully.
I looked for something else to think about. An impulse had me clicking into Feral's page again.
I'd looked her up, before. Back after I'd first met her in the infirmary. Her postings, and professional history. Now I looked for stories. A teacher, she'd visited a school two years ago. A community outreach program joint effort through Haven. It lifted my mood briefly, and I saved the article.
I paused, then, I looked up Charnel. I frowned. Nothing.
A couple hits for blood-themed villains. Carnages, three of them. Popular name. Nothing I recognized. That- I'd seen that before, hadn't I? I leaned back, thinking. Yes, that was right, Marionette didn't have anything either.
That... couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Charnel had said there was a Professor, he'd made her. Changed her, or altered her. Powers were usually very unique, you might find a similar power, but they were as unique as people were and Marionette was very, very similar.
But, nothing.
I'd already tried Tinkers that dealt in what I thought Charnel (and Marionette?) had, I didn't know where else to look. I didn't even know the dates Marionette and Charnel had been admitted, so I couldn't cross-reference major events or a timeline of any kind.
"Another mystery," I muttered. That itch was back.
I turned my attention to searched for Alchemilla. Patients from Alchemilla. History of Alchemilla. Success stories. I wanted more Ferals, I wanted to know what victory looked like here; beating Elle's empty eyes, Mimi's angry outbursts and despairing spirals. What it looked like to the doctors.
I started looking for more, something, anything. But information was limited. I... I understood why it might be, information security. Blake had pointed out that there were capes here, villains and heroes alike, who had enemies. But surely the Protectorate would want the success stories circulated in some form? Feral wasn't unique, Doctor Yamada and Doctor Selmy had mentioned others, that they were rare but not nonexistent.
But the more I read, more my frustration grew. Feral was a very prominent case, and there were more, but they were few and far between. There were a handful of stories- of parahumans like Fusor, who'd taken time off, a hiatus, recuperation from serious injury, that sort of thing. Everything I found was indirect, in passing, after the fact. Feral was an anomaly in that she wore her time at Alchemilla on her sleeve, she was proud of it. She sought out chances to share her experiences.
I thought about that, leaning back and really thinking.
Well, parahumans not being forthcoming about stays in a psychiatric hospital was understandable. Celebrities usually tried to keep things like that private. I made a mental note to ask Feral about others.
If she was willing and able to talk about it, I amended. The sounded like it could fall under confidential information, I wasn't sure what was common knowledge and what was not. What she'd get in trouble for, and what she wouldn't. The internet was not the final metric in stuff like this.
I kept reading, now more aimlessly
An article from Haven, a cape named Rosary describing her trigger event in hushed, hesitant tones. Halting often, stuttering. She was young, I think. I couldn't be sure with her hat and mask, but she sounded young.
She described her trigger as being reborn, a second chance at life. A realization of everything she'd taken for granted, all horizons expanded.
I'd heard of Haven, they were a team from down south- they had a religious theme. I clicked on the organization tab and found me on their main page. Haven was known for their charity work, and a longstanding enminity with The Fallen, a villain organization.
Villains and the heroes that fight them, I considered Rosary's interview, this was the world I had also been reborn into. I wished my problems were like the Fallen, at least then I'd know what to do about them. Or what I could do?
"This is a lot more complicated than I thought it'd be."
I kept searching, in the back of my mind I had the vague notion of finding other Thinker powers, like mine. Maybe getting some ideas from them. I knew about Accord, from Boston, and there was Hunch from New York. They were Thinkers, but weren't really similar. Clarity, out in California, she had a lingering clairvoyance she could instill in objects. And there were a couple forms of clairvoyance tied to distance. Apex. Watch. Seek. Gypsy.
None of them had extensive pages really. Thinkers tended to operate behind the lines. In the background. They rarely got the spotlight. Where there any powers like mine? It wasn't flashy, but my power was mine. Unique. Even if some of that had led me here. I owned that, even if owning all of it hurt sometimes.
I think the technical term for what I did was periperception, but it did extend further than arm's reach, even if it was weaker. I listened to my breathing, and sharpened my attention to the echoes in my little room. The faint buzz of the light overhead. The blood rushing in my ears. I wondered if this enhanced sense of space, of echo and sound, counted as clairaudiance.
I leaned back in my chair, rested my head on the backrest, and stared at the ceiling.
My mind was far away from my body, in the skeletal outline of impressions, of hallways and rooms comprising Alchemilla in my mind. Motes of brighter familiarity moving about. Most in their rooms, for the night cycle. Even if they hadn't been, my awareness of the hospital had grown to the point I'd stopped really needing to concentrate to sense my floor plan. Low-sec really wasn't very complicated to navigate. I'd seen nearly all of it.
There wasn't much to do in low-sec, was there?
It was a strange realization to make. I hadn't felt particularly claustrophobic or insular- or well, I didn't think of it that way. I hadn't had enough time to stop and breathe. Not enough.
But, maybe... It was the people?
I considered Nick and Heather, Mimi, Elle, Charnel, Blake... Benny. People were interesting, my powers peeled back the layers and allowed me to view hidden facets that were not obvious; and what it revealed was always increasing.
In imagining a superpower for myself all those nights sleeping over with Emma, I'd have never imagined I'd get people-watching as a power...
Getting powers.
I sharpened my attention back to that, that moment of disarray and clarity in the alley. The smell of blood and garbage. Mom's fear, the too-loud sound of their voices. My confused alarm. Were they muggers? Rapists? Were we going to vanish, would Emma wonder what happened to me? Would the police find us?
And then there was that moment...
I came back to myself, and concentrated on what I had seen, the memory, one hand blindly groping across my desk for my notebook. My journal.
I'd shown Doctor Yamada, before. It was... blurry, indistinct. Every time I remembered it, it was just a little different, like I was looking at it from a different angle. Each time, I saw a little more.
I opened my journal, with my eyes closed, my power and familiarity guided my hands to the right page- the right place. I began to write as quickly as I could.
...
...
I released my mental grip, and slowly what remained slipped away. My hand was starting to cramp anyway, I had to stop.
My breath was a little short, and my vision swam, there was a distant ache behind my eyes, one I'd come to associate with heavy use of my power. Or, trying to use it on a distant focus, something I wasn't very attuned to.
I stared down at what I'd written, massaging my wrist, and tried to make sense of it all.
I wasn't sure what I was seeing. I sighed and flipped through my notebook, my pages of theories and printouts of articles and thoughts.
There were a lot of theories surrounding powers. A lot of speculation, but no conclusive answer.
Some people thought they manifested in moments of extreme emotion; or in climactic, pivotal moments in people's lives. Really bad days, or incredible triumphs. There was a lot of contradiction, but by and large the accepted idea was that it tied into you reaching your limits, and the strongest powers resulted from athletes, great minds, people who surpassed a wall.
Positive emotions, moments of triumph and excellence lead to stronger, better powers with less drawbacks. Moments of negativity lead to flawed powers with complicating factors.
I looked back at the computer screen. The Parahumans Online homepage was front and foremost. There was a news article featuring the Triumvirate. Eidolon? Alexandria? Hero? They must have done something major.
I didn't read the headline, just looked at the picture of Eidolon, and Alexandria, and Hero in his golden armor. I looked down at my hands and thought about Randell Daniels. Waking up in the hospital that first day, and what I'd done with my powers.
I had a lot of time to think.
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
Doctor Yamada was almost as glad to see me as I was to see her. Doctor Yamada's office was a welcome oasis, the touches of personality removed it slightly in my mind, and helped dial back the tension I'd been gathering in my neck back a touch.
Her office was a lot like Doctor Selmy's, a little more open. Instead of the chairs being oriented around a coffee table, they were set opposite each other with end tables that held water and desk lamps. Liked the desk lamps, they were those old-fashioned glass-shaded lamps.
"Is there anything you would like to start on?" Doctor Yamada asked.
"Just gathering my thoughts." I sighed, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees and one hand rubbing the back of my neck, "I... I don't know. It almost feels like I'm in a rut."
"In the sense you're unsatisfied with your progress to date, or in the sense you want to introduce something new?"
I'd had a lot of time to think about it, and the answer was still a shrug. I gave Doctor Yamada a helpless sigh.
"Both? Neither?" I frowned, "It's like... I feel like I ought to be doing more. I've got all this excess energy and I don't know what to do with any of it. I don't sleep, and I- well, I don't think the courses are very challenging."
Doctor Yasmada looked thoughtful, "Would you like to try taking college entrance exams? You could try testing out of high school."
"I..." I had wanted to go to high school with Emma. We'd talked about it, "I'll think about it." I said, but I sounded plaintive and uncertain, even to myself.
Doctor Yamada only nodded, "Well, we can come back to that at a later point. Your grades are good enough to skip ahead. In the meantime, Doctor Lafayette said you had a plan. He was very eager to see where you went with it."
I perked up a little at that, "Yeah, Elle wanted to try it, and I thought it'd be a good place to start. Mimi's on board, and Heather and Nick want to give it a try too. So, I guess I roped everyone into it."
Doctor Yamada smiled for me, and I could feel the true sincerity under her expression, "That's wonderful!
I smiled too, but there was more to it, it felt brittle around the edges, Mimi's more spectacular moments meant that there was more weight than belied by a smile when I said, "They need this, they have to do it, Just- just holding position like they've been isn't helping anyone."
She wasn't fooled. "Taylor, you've thrown yourself into this with incredible enthusiasm, and I have heard nothing but praise. But what about you?" She took a sip of water, and set the glass back on its coaster, "I am a little worried that you are pinning your hopes on this one thing, and you might end up disappointed."
I looked away, thinking, and working my neck with my free hand, trying to work out some of the stress there.
"I guess... I'm a little scared. I'm worried I'm going to mess up and..." I breathed deeply, centering, "If Mimi can't pull this off, I don't know what will happen. And Elle was so excited. Has she had any opportunities to... Just interact with people?"
"She has." said Doctor Yamada, "Even in medium security, there are regular groups for activities and a full staff. Elle's problems are tied more to her inability to interact even when those are available."
I sighed, "Yeah, I guessed, it's just..." I rubbed my neck, "What I read off her, this is a real treat." I didn't want to bring her down from that. I didn't want her to be disappointed, I didn't know what that would do to her.
"... It is more difficult to organize larger group activities." Doctor Yamada said, "And there can be a great deal of risk attached."
I could imagine.
"...I tried looking up patients, you know, success stories. I wanted to know what I was working towards. Feral is pretty well known, but I couldn't find anyone else."
"There are a lot of Non Disclosure Agreements to cut through before we can give out information." Doctor Yamada said, then paused, "If you'd like, I can ask. It might be a good idea to bring some more success stories in. But I can't promise anything."
"Good, that's... Good. I'm trying to decide what, well, what victory is. What it'd look like. I thought it'd be easier when I took you up on the sponsor program." I said, "Now I'm trying to decide what I'm actually aiming for and what I ought to really be stressing over."
Doctor Yamada made an agreeable sound
"I hear a 'but' in that."
I breathed deeply, trying to organize my thoughts into something I could articulate.
"I... I don't know what to call it." I admitted, "I... I feel like I'm all twisted up, inside. I remember that time Mimi burned me, and I- I can understand Elle, but not enough. I'm worried, I won't be able to do enough. I'm worried..."
I struggled for the word.
"If I may?" Doctor Yamada asked, and I nodded, "It sounds like you have made a lot of progress very quickly, but now you're starting to run into obstacles."
"...Yeah, that sounds about right."
"I have had patients in the past that had similar difficulties. Many of them are young, and still finding their place in the world, deciding what they want to do with themselves even before powers entered the picture." Doctor Yamada said,
"So I..." I trailed off.
"You're a teenager. It's a confusing time in life."
I snorted a laugh, "But what do I do about it?"
Doctor Yamada leaned back, thoughtfully, "If we don't understand our own emotions, and many of us do not, it takes a lot to get to a point where you do understand yourself. I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say many people never reach that point."
"Is that what I should be looking for? Trying to do?" I asked, "Trying to understand myself better?"
"Being able to examine your own motivations, your logic, and the flaws in your reasoning will make you a better person as a whole. Parahuman or not."
I stared at the wall, feeling very small and stupid, "I thought I'd leave... I don't know, stuff like this behind after I became a parahuman. You know? You read about Alexandria in the news, watch videos and they all look so untouchable. Everything looked so glamorous and ..."
Bigger, more than petty problems and worries, larger than life.
"More..." I trailed off limply.
"Taylor, you need to understand, powers can't bring out anything that isn't already in you." Doctor Yamada said carefully.
I thought of Mimi, of... God, of Solace holding her head and crying in the corner. "But they can be an obstacle."
"They can be. Yes."
I took a shaky breath.
"I'm... I'm worried that this is going to beat me. Beat us. Mimi doesn't have much hope left. Elle has trouble communicating on her own, she needs a circle of friends she can count on. I'm worried that it's going to defeat them and I don't know what I'll do when- if, if that happens..." I sighed, "It feels like... one more defeat will be the end. That they won't have it in them to keep going if that happens.
Doctor Yamada nodded, thoughtful, "What would defeat look like?
"Excuse me?'
"Setting high goals is a good thing. I don't want to discourage you from doing so, but accomplishing them might not be a simple process. What would be a defeat, for you?"
"...Mimi going to the Birdcage." I said at last, my shoulders slumped, "And... and Elle going back to Medium Security."
Doctor Yamada leaned forward and set a hand on my knee, bringing my gaze back up to meet hers.
"I don't think that will ever happen, Taylor." She said, "Mimi is trying, she hasn't given up."
Hearing her say that meant more to me than I wanted to admit. She leaned back, thinking, "Do you think they would be able to handle a full session of group therapy?"
I managed to smile, a little weakly, but real. "I think Elle would love it. Mimi'd probably love it, if she could get over being nervous."
Doctor Yamada smiled back, then frowned, "We've talked about your goals. And we've talked about your plans with Mimi and Elle. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"
I hesitated.
"I tried to read my memory again."
Doctor Yamada leaned back, thoughtful, "Just a second..."
She flipped a page back on her notepad. Looking at her notes from last session, I guessed. "Is the woman still there?"
"Yeah, I saw more this time. She had silver hair, really long." I paused, "There was something else, I think... She was sad? Or confused?"
I frowned, "I'm... I'm actually not sure..."
"Hmm." Doctor Yamada frowned, "It might be another parahuman."
"...Could be." I muttered. It could be.
"But, what about the rest of it?"
"Maybe it has to do with how your powers work? There are many theories, regarding the power source parahuman abilities draw on, the mechanics. What causes them."
"Yes! Yes, that's what I thought too! I'm.. I'm almost sure of it." I straightened, "That's, um... Parallel universes! It's a theory that powers are from alternate dimensions. That's what I was seeing, I think. Something in many places at once, all layered on itself. But it was surrounded by lights. They were coming off it..."
"You believe you're seeing the source of your power?"
"Well, it makes sense." I added, "I can use my power on myself."
"It might." Doctor Yamada agreed, more subdued, "I am glad you are sharing this with me, Taylor. Would you like to sign up for power therapy? It is a little early to do deep testing, but... If there's been a major development in your power, it might be a good idea."
"Yeah, I think so."
She made a note on her pad, "That's good to hear. I'm sure we can get you set up next week."
I nodded.
"Is there anything else, Taylor?"
I shook my head, "No... I, I think that was all... what I needed to hear."
"Good." Doctor Yamada stood, and I followed suite. She looked at me, a long somber stare. "You know, Taylor. I read something once... Taoist philosophy... The Master doesn't try to be powerful; he is powerful. Someone ordinary keeps reaching for power and thus never has enough."
She looked at me very seriously, "Be careful, Taylor. Keep doing good. Your situation is out of your control, but what you decide to do with it, that is always up to you." I heard my mother's words echoed in that. Do and be good, if that was all you could do.
I grinned back, and it felt good. "I think I can do that."