Amelia Dallon hummed a happy tune as she finished up with her last patient, finally stepping back from the hospital bed with a bright smile as her white cape fluttered behind her.
"All done!" she announced. "Blood pressure down, cleared out your arteries a little, and gave your heart a tune-up. You should be feeling right as rain now!"
"I am!" the old man in the bed said with a gummy grin. "That's much better! Thanks."
He began to sit up, when Amelia raised a hand to stop him.
"I... also caught something else while looking around in there," she said with a wince. "Looks like the beginnings of Alzheimer's. Could progress in the next few years. You want me to get that quickly while you're here?"
The old man's face went pale.
"Oh," he muttered. "Oh yeah, definitely. Please."
Amelia smiled, leaned in, and booped a finger on his nose.
"Done!"
The old man blinked.
"You really live up to your name, Miracle," he chuckled.
"You know it," said Amelia, flashing a peace sign.
Just then, a Bad Canary song sounded from inside Amelia's skirt pocket. She jolted back, her golden tiara tilting off her head at a jaunty angle as she fished out her phone. Her eyes boggled when she looked at the time, and realised that it was already end of shift for her. Her sister would be along soon to pick her up.
"Wow! Sorry, gotta dash. The nurse will discharge you in a minute. Take care, Mr. Lyons! Don't let me see you again too soon!"
"Thank you, Miss Dallon! You too!"
Amelia was still packing things away in her handbag when she got to the roof. An enigmatic figure in a black robe and hood waited there for her, hovering ominously just off the floor, until Amelia leapt forward and embraced them in an enthusiastic hug.
"Hi Vicky! How was your day?"
Victoria Dallon, also known as the superhero Gloom Girl, scowled as the force of Amy's hug knocked her hood off, revealing her dyed black hair that covered one eye, and her multiple nose and lip piercings.
"Fine," she muttered. "Carol had me reading to kids at the outreach."
Amelia gave her a sympathetic smile.
"It didn't go too bad, did it?" she asked.
"One of them started crying," Vicky said, crossing her arms and looking away.
"Oh. Well... I'm sure it wasn't because of you. Maybe they were just tired?"
"He pointed at me and said I looked like a monster, and one of the parents accused me of using my fear aura on the children. I didn't."
"Uhh..." Amelia rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, I'm sorry you had a bad day. Do you maybe wanna go get ice cream or something?"
Vicky sighed, but smiled slightly.
"Thanks, sis. But I got parahuman studies work tonight. Rain check?"
"Sure! Any time you want."
Vicky didn't say anything more as she scooped Amelia up in a bridal carry and flew up into the air, her sister reaching up to pull her hood back into place.
"Thanks."
As the wind swept past them and the streets of Brockton Bay rolled by below, Amelia's phone beeped again. She pulled it back out to read.
"Heh." Amelia smirked. "Dean's still trying to make it up to me. Wants to meet up at the boardwalk on Saturday. What do you think? Should I give him another chance?"
Victoria's already dark look darkened even further under her hood.
"Personally, I think you should make him impotent and give him paranoid schizophrenia, but that's just me."
"Oof," Amelia said with a slight grin. "You really don't like him, do you?"
"Not in the slightest. You're better off without him."
"Mmmm..." Amelia said knowingly. "But he's so hot, though."
"Ugh." Vicky rolled her eyes dramatically. "You do you, sis. Just please don't bring me on any more double dates if you get back together with him."
"Fine, fine," said Amelia, already texting Dean back. "But I'm not giving up on getting you a guy! We'll find someone who's into buff goth chicks eventually. You wouldn't think they'd be so hard to find..."
"Ever think maybe the 'guy' part is the problem?" Vicky muttered under her breath.
"Hmm?" Amelia looked up from her phone. "What was that, Vicky?"
"Nothing!"
The sisters came through the door together, greeted by the smell of pizza in the oven and the sound of the TV blaring in the living room, apparently advertising Eidolon-brand cornflakes. Amelia stepped through and walked up behind the couch, embracing her father from behind and kissing the top of his head as he was distracted with a newspaper.
"Hi Dad," she said. "Good day?"
Mark Dallon put down his paper and turned back to look at her.
"Very good," he said, smiling. "Outreach went well. I think most of the kids really liked seeing us all there. We'll have to get you to come along to the next one, though."
"Just don't schedule it on a Monday next time," Amelia pouted. "You know I heal on Mondays."
Victoria folded her arms and grunted in agreement.
At that moment, a beatific Carol Dallon entered the room, like an older, blonder, and more socially well-adjusted Vicky. She smiled wide and hugged Amelia.
"Amelia, my dearest and most beloved child who can do no wrong!" she said, warmly. "I hope you had a wonderful day saving lives and bringing hope to the downtrodden!"
Amelia giggled. "Thanks. You too, Mom."
They parted, and Carol then turned to Vicky, her smile slipping away in favour of a look of sheer disdain.
"Victoria," she said with a curt nod.
"Carol," Victoria returned.
Amelia stood by in the tense silence, unsure what to say, until Carol turned back to her, smiling again.
"Dinner will be ready soon."
"Great!" said Amelia, injecting as much cheer into the words as she could. "I'll be back down when it's ready."
All Victoria could add was another sullen grunt.
It was dark outside and the house was quiet as Amelia sprawled across her bed, texting back and forth with Dean. Her legs idly kicked at the air as giggled at his corny jokes, and even shot back a few of her own. After a mostly pleasant evening with her family and an emotionally fulfilling day helping the sick and needy of Brockton Bay, she was feeling much more charitable towards her ex-boyfriend again. She was actually looking forward to their meet-up on Saturday. Despite everything that happened before, she had missed him this past month. Plus, she just had a good feeling about things this time. They were different people than they were before. This time things would be better.
Just as she was typing up her latest response, the screen of Amelia's phone went black. Her eyes widened momentarily, and then she sighed as she realised she'd forgotten to charge it this morning.
"Damnit," she grumbled, plugging it into the charger on the wall.
Despite that, however, the phone did not charge. The low power icon did not appear, and even after a few minutes, it would not turn back on. Amelia inspected the cable, and was crestfallen to realise that the old charger's exposed wire part had frayed even further than before. It was possible that it was just too broken to work anymore. The charger had been on its last legs for a while anyway.
"Fuck..."
Well, nothing else for it. She'd have to go borrow Vicky's until she could get a new one. Maybe she could get one at the boardwalk with Dean? That would be something they could do together. She had always enjoyed going out shopping with him, even for the little stuff.
Amelia stepped out of her room and into the silent hallway, brightly lit despite the late hour, owing to her mother's childhood fears. Her parents were already abed at this hour, but she knew Vicky would still be up as she always was, most likely still studying for her parahuman classes.
She approached Vicky's door and knocked gently to rouse her, but no response came. After waiting a while, she knocked again, louder this time.
"Vicky?" she whispered as loudly as she dared, to avoid waking Mom and Dad.
Still there was no response, but the lights were on inside, so Vicky was definitely awake. After another knock and another minute of silence, Amelia shrugged and opened the door herself, since Vicky didn't usually lock it anyway.
Her sister was at her computer, headphones covering her ears, one hand on the desk, and the other—
"Woah!" Amelia went to turn away. "Sorry! I didn't know—"
That's when she noticed what was on the screen, and stopped to stare. And that's also when Vicky turned around, saw her, and screamed. She grabbed the blanket off her bed to cover herself, and then quickly turned to her screen, smashing the off button as her headphones clattered to the floor.
"Amy! It's not what you think!" she said with wide and desperate eyes.
"Uhhh..." Amelia still stared, trying to look at the now dark screen rather than at her sister. "Was that... me turning you into a fleshblob?"
"No!" Vicky spluttered.
"It... sure looked like it," Amelia mumbled. "That was my face... and my costume... and yours... with... lots of exposed parts..."
Vicky's face was bright red. "I was just... I clicked on it by accident!"
Amelia gave her a flat look.
"Vicky, it was open in Photoshop. And you have your drawing tablet out."
Vicky looked onto her desk and swept the treacherous drawing tablet off onto the floor.
"No I don't."
Amelia lunged for the screen and tried to turn the power back on, but Vicky grabbed her by the wrists and wrestled her back with her super strength.
"Stop it! No! Don't look! Amy, don't—!"
In a contest of strength, Amelia wouldn't have stood a chance, but with her powers she easily paralysed her sister's arm muscles and broke free, hitting the power button to see her sordid work in full. And... yeah, it was exactly what she thought it was.
In fact, she recognised this art style. She'd seen it the last time she'd gotten curious and looked herself up on those pervert sites that hosted the stuff too lewd for Parahumans Online.
"...Holy fuck, you're DarkSexyMiracles, aren't you?" Amelia said with mounting horror.
"...It was a commission," Vicky said meekly, arms still frozen in place.
"Bullshit! I've seen your stuff before! You're most prolific Gloom Girl/Miracle porn artist by several orders of magnitude! I seriously considered going to Mom to find your identity just to get a restraining order on you!"
Vicky said nothing, but at least had the decency to look guilty.
With an angry sigh, Amelia reached out to touch her sister's forehead and undo the paralysis. Vicky immediately backed off and hugged her arms around her own shoulders.
"Well?" said Amelia, raising an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"
Vicky sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Ugh. Okay, fine, you got me. I'm a horrible creep who's madly in love with you, and I channel my sick lust for my sister into creating extremely perverted artwork, some of which involves you turning me into a fleshblob."
"But why?" Amelia asked exasperatedly.
"Because I'm a bad person, and I constantly struggle with the urge to brainwash you into loving me back with my aura, and this is the only way I can stop myself from doing that."
"You... can do that?" Amelia said, backing away nervously. "I thought your aura only did fear?"
"Nope," Vicky said simply.
Amelia blinked.
"Yeah..." Vicky sat back down on her bed. "Sorry."
"Uh... huh..." Amelia bit her lip and tried to look anywhere but at her sister. "Well, my life just got a hundred times weirder."
The awkward silence stretched on for a minute and a half.
"So, uh..." said Vicky, clearing her throat. "You wanna... go on a date sometime?"
Amelia looked over and glared at her, and Vicky raised her hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay. Worth a shot."
"Girls, it is past midnight," Carol Dallon grumbled, walking into the room in a pink dressing gown with bleary eyes. "I have to be up for work tomorrow. What are you two being so loud ab—?"
She stopped as she noticed the computer. Vicky shrunk in on herself as Carol turned to her, face turning red with fury.
"Goddamnit, Victoria!" she thundered. "How many times have I told you not to draw porn of your sister?! God, I wish I aborted you!"
As Vicky started crying and shouting back, and the room devolved into the most surreal family argument she had ever been party to, Amelia stared blankly into space, contemplating her life.
She wondered if it was too late to go back to Marquis.
Author's notes:
This story is available on [THIS SITE] under the profile Three Rejects, and Archive of Our Own under the profile DannyJ.
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