Read aloud to me alt Taylor

by Kahlil Johnson

Dnd

52. Kk

Trillium Waltz

1. Meristem

Taylor

Taylor Hebert was doing something she'd never considered possible before. Something wrong.

She knew she was breaking the rules. She understood what it would mean for her, at the end of the day.

But even though she knew that she was making a truly heinous decision, Taylor was going ahead with it anyway.

Yes, that's right.

Taylor was skipping school.

All the typical reasons weren't there. She had no friends to hang out with, no plans, and no places to be. She wasn't skipping school so she could be somewhere else.

She was skipping school simply so she wouldn't have to be there.

Taylor didn't want to go to school anymore.

She used to love school, learning new things and spending time with her best friend Emma at lunch or briefly between classes.

But, recently, Emma had started hurting her.

Every day, Taylor would steel herself and try to talk to her, only to be met with insults, cruel jokes, and abuse. She had no idea what had happened, or why her best friend hated her. Taylor wondered if it was something she had done wrong. But she couldn't remember doing anything to her.

Taylor didn't have friends anymore. She didn't have anyone.

Mom was gone. Dad barely talked to her.

And so, one day, when Taylor was at the school's gate, she stopped.

The school building loomed before her, and the sight of it filled her with dread.

She thought of what awful things would be awaiting her in there, and tears formed in her eyes.

All Taylor had to do was keep walking forward, and she'd end up at school. And she would survive it, and she would keep surviving it.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and -

- she tripped over a loose brick, falling face-first onto the floor.

Taylor coughed, picking herself up off the ground.

She'd scratched and cracked her glasses, and there was dirt all over her front. The strap of her bag had torn.

She heard laughter, and she looked up.

Emma and Sophia, snickering at her as they passed by.

This is going to be a nightmare, Taylor realized. Today is going to be really bad.

Taylor stood up, and the misery began to sink in.

She tried to push herself forward, to go to school despite knowing that she was going to have an awful time there.

Her legs were shaking. Her glasses were all but broken. She could still hear them laughing.

It was too much.

Taylor just couldn't do it.

She turned around, and she ran away.

She ran, and she ran, and she didn't stop until she was so tired that she had to stop. Then she'd take a breath, pause for a moment, and start running again as soon as her stamina came back. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and by the time she finally couldn't run anymore, she was hurting from head to toe. She doubled over, wheezing, and leaned against the side of a building to stop herself from falling over.

Taylor hadn't been paying any attention to where she'd eventually end up. She'd just wanted to get as far away from it all as possible. School. Emma. Home. Dad. She wanted to escape from everything.

Taylor looked around, nervously, and didn't recognize the area around her at all. Then again, the destination hadn't really mattered to Taylor. All she cared about was that it was far away. And it was. It was practically another world, to her.

She couldn't stand for much longer, though. She was exhausted. Nearby, she saw what looked like a shopping mall. She stumbled inside, hoping to find somewhere to sit down, somewhere to rest and think about things.

She found a bench next to a moderately-large fountain, and she sat there, staring into the water. There was no one else there, really, except for the various shoppers who walked past her occasionally. But none of them even looked at Taylor.

Nobody else was sitting around by themselves and doing nothing.

Nobody except for her.

No one knows where I am, Taylor thought to herself. And the only reason anyone will care that I'm gone is because I'll have missed classes.

She fished around in her backpack and found a nickel. She tossed it into the fountain.

I wish Mom would come back.

Taylor's lip quivered. She curled up into a ball, while still sitting on the bench.

She buried her face in her knees and closed her eyes, desperately trying to hold back her tears.

Amy

"...and Mom was saying, like, think of your future, think about college! Maybe become a lawyer! And I was like, really, mom?" Victoria Dallon rolled her eyes for emphasis. "And I told her: I already know what I'm going to be! I've known since I was like five!"

"Mmhm." Amy Dallon nodded. They'd both had a free period followed by a lunch period, and Vicky had suggested they spend the time perusing different stores together. Amy had gotten commandeered into carrying Victoria's bags, since Victoria's broken wrist was still healing. She had accidentally slammed it in a car door a few months back.

Oddly enough, Victoria was more upset about not being able to play basketball than anything else. Despite the likelihood of pain and longterm damage, she kept begging Carol to let her go anyway. Carol had, sensibly enough, refused.

Typical Victoria, Amy thought idly. Sports are somehow more important to her than physical trauma.

"And, yeah, she tells me 'Well, you don't know that you'll be one!' and I say: 'Shyeah, of course I don't know that. Not.' And then I brought up all the statistics again. You remember, right? The ones I mentioned?"

"Sure do," Amy lied.

"Yeah! So, I said 'Mom, second generation capes are super common and super strong, and I'm totally going to be one.' And then she said 'Well you still don't know...' And then, see, I said: 'Well, what if we could find out for sure? Why don't you let me get a - ?'"

"Oh, god, you tried for that again?" Amy groaned, interrupting her. "You know she's never going to let you do it."

"Only because she's stupid! She told me: 'No, Victoria, you are not getting a brain scan just so you can see if you have a Colona Potentia.' and I said 'Corona Pollentia! How could you possibly forget its name, Mom?! You have one! It's called the Co-ro-na Po-llen-tia!' And she just shook her head at me and she had that annoying little smile she gets - you know the one - and I just, I got so mad! I mean, Ames, do you think I'm going to be a lawyer?"

"I really have no idea, Vicky." Amy yawned. She'd lost track of what shop they were going to next. She wasn't sure, but she thought Victoria might have forgotten, too. They were just walking aimlessly around the mall while Victoria chattered furiously.

"No idea? No idea?! Wow. Have you even been listening to me?" Victoria frowned, crossing her arms. She was the very picture of irritated moodiness. "Duh, obviously I'm not going to be a lawyer. I'm going to be fighting crime."

"Carol's right, though. It might not happen." Amy sighed. "Besides, I don't even know why you'd want to trigger. Don't you have to get seriously messed up for that to happen?"

"No, see, no," Victoria shook her head energetically, raising a hand to Amy's ear and whispering like she was letting her in on a big secret. "That's what most people think. But second-generation capes trigger way easier. Like, I could just trip and break my nose and boom: Now I can shoot lasers out of my nostrils! I was sort of hoping that I'd get some powers after what happened to my wrist, but - "

"Wait, back up," Amy started to laugh, "you want to shoot lasers out of your nostrils?"

"No, Ames, of course I don't want to shoot lasers out of my nostrils!" Victoria slapped her hand to her forehead in exasperation. "It's just an example. Why aren't you ever interested in this stuff? You could get powers too!"

Amy's mirth vanished almost instantly. "I don't think I want them."

"You're kidding." Victoria gaped at Amy as though she'd just turned down a billion dollars. "Why not?!"

Amy was silent for a little while, before answering: "Vicky, I, um... I have no idea what kind of powers I might get. Or how bad they could be."

"What do you - ? Oh." Victoria paused, realizing. She looked away from Amy, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry. It slips my mind, sometimes."

Amy smiled. "Don't worry about it." It honestly made her happy. Victoria was the only person she knew who could possibly forget that Amy was adopted, that Amy was the daughter of some supervillain.

No one else ever forgot. No one else treated her like she was family. Except maybe Mark. Mark was nice to her occasionally.

Victoria was always nice, though, even if she was a bit of a nerd sometimes. All in all, Amy was very glad that Victoria was her sister.

"Well, uh," Victoria said quickly, trying to change the subject, "Crystal was inviting us to hang out with her at the - "

"Wait," Amy interrupted, suddenly standing still.

"What is it?"

"Didn't you hear someone...?" Amy trailed off.

Victoria was quiet for a moment, and then her eyes widened, as she heard it too.

Someone was crying.

Victoria pointed over at a thin, disheveled girl with cracked glasses. She was sitting alone by a fountain. Her bag was torn up.

Victoria immediately started walking towards her, then stopped when she noticed Amy hesitating.

"Come on," mouthed Victoria, urging her forward. Amy followed her lead.

They sat down beside the girl. She looked pretty close to Amy and Victoria's age. Thirteen, maybe fourteen years old. It was hard to pin down precisely.

She has nice hair, Amy thought absently. She noticed that she'd been having a lot of thoughts about other girls' appearances recently. Huh. Am I starting to get into fashion, or something? Well, whatever. Not important right now.

"Hey," Victoria said, with a bright smile on her face. She put a hand on the crying girl's shoulder.

The crying girl yelped, falling to the side in fright. "Sorry! S-sorry."

"For what?" Amy asked, baffled.

"I don't know," she whispered, pulling up her glasses and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "For crying, and for - for whatever else I've done to be sorry for."

This close to her, more details became clear. There were some bruises on her neck and face. Some looked old, some looked more recent.

Amy and Victoria shared a quick look. An unspoken agreement passed between them.

"What's your name?" Victoria asked, her bright smile a little dampened. "I'm Victoria."

"My name's Amy," Amy offered.

"Taylor." The thin girl sniffled quietly.

"Are you, um...?" Amy tried to figure out a polite way to ask.

"Is everything okay at your house, Taylor?" Victoria asked, bluntly. "Do you feel safe there?"

Amy winced. Victoria Dallon, fifteen-year-old queen of subtlety.

"Huh?" Taylor seemed confused, then realized. She unconsciously put a hand to her neck, aghast. Her eyes widened, as she stared at Victoria. "No, I - I'm fine! Home's fine. It doesn't happen at... uh, it doesn't happen." Taylor stood up, grabbing her bag. "It's nothing."

"What do you mean, 'it's' nothing, and 'it' doesn't happen? If there's an 'it', then it's something, and it's happening."

Taylor made a sound halfway between a sob and a yell, shuddering harshly. She began to cry again.

Then she started running away, in an awkward, stumbling manner.

Victoria leapt to her feet. "Come on, after her!"

Amy hesitated again. "Is this really any of our business?"

"Helping people is my business, Ames," Victoria shot Amy a look, "and that girl clearly needs help."

Amy couldn't argue with that. "What about your bags?"

"Drop them."

"Vicky, there's like two hundred dollars worth of clothes in here - "

"Mom can yell at me later. Come on!" Victoria broke into a run, chasing the distant figure of Taylor.

Victoria

Victoria Dallon wanted to be a hero.

This was a hero thing to do.

She was doing it!

She also wanted to help a complete stranger who may or may not have been abused. That too.

Her wrist shot bursts of pain into her if she kept it at her side while running, so she had to hug it to her stomach. It gave her an odd appearance, she was sure.

She was still confused about how breaking a wrist wasn't enough to make her into a cape. But, the longer she thought about it, the more she knew why.

It was because, in those few seconds after it happened, she'd thought to herself: This is it! And she hadn't felt bad at all. She'd been ecstatic.

She'd patiently waited, and waited, but nothing ever came of it. She was sure that something should have happened.

Nope. Nothing.

No trigger. Still.

But that didn't mean that Victoria couldn't do heroic things!

By the time she finally managed to catch up with Taylor, it was just outside of a dingy side entrance in the mall, leading out into a back alley.

It was one of those ominous alleys that felt walled-off, not visibly leading off towards the street, but clearly curling around to it eventually. Dark even in the daylight. An enormous dumpster stood off to the side, and it reeked.

Taylor slowed dramatically as soon as she got out of the building, clearly having no idea where she was planning on going.

She almost fell over, but Victoria managed to catch her by the arm.

"You don't have to run from us," Victoria panted. "Honest."

"Let me go," Taylor pleaded, panting herself. In her case, it was more like wheezing gasps.

"Okay, okay." Victoria loosened her grip, but slowly, allowing Taylor to sit down.

Amy caught up around then, and became the latest member of the panting girl squad.

Victoria closed the door after her, to give Taylor some privacy.

"I - I don't even know what I'm doing here." Taylor sobbed, sitting against the wall and hugging herself. "I don't know why I did this. It's stupid."

"Hey, it's okay," Victoria said, sitting down beside her. "Tell me what's going on."

Taylor didn't say anything, she just cried.

"Why aren't you in school?" Amy asked, slowly.

"Why aren't we in school?" Victoria retorted. "She probably had a free period."

Amy didn't say anything, but her skepticism was obvious.

Even Victoria wasn't buying her own excuse. Taylor didn't exactly seem like a girl who was chilling out at the mall between classes.

"Do you have anyone we can call?" Victoria asked, softly. "Family, friends?"

The look on Taylor's face was absolutely wretched.

"Never mind," Victoria said quickly. "Uh... Amy, can you call home?"

"You want to take her home?"

Victoria nodded.

"You should do it, then, Carol doesn't really - " Amy cut off sharply, and she went extremely pale. She was staring at something off to the side.

By the time Victoria looked, there was someone rushing her, pinning her arms, putting their hands over her eyes and mouth.

"Whoa, hey hey hey. Relax." A slightly-panicked male voice said very quickly. "Don't worry. We're not going to hurt you."

"Really." An older, female voice grunted. "Why not?"

"Are you serious? They - they're kids. Look at 'em."

"Kids that'll go running directly to the cops, or start screaming. You want capes on us before we've even started?"

"I'm not going to kill kids, you crazy bitch."

Gang members? Victoria wondered, her thoughts racing. Villains?

Excitement coursed through her, just a little. She couldn't help it. After all, she was being held down by criminals in an alley. This was trigger event central!

"Then what's your big plan, huh? Tie them up, gag them? Sorry. I didn't bring any fucking rope."

"Shit. Shit, I don't - oh. Hey, wait wait wait. I have an idea."

There was an unsettling sound of metal lifting and scraping.

"What do you think? Looks like enough space. That work?"

There was a brief silence.

"Fuck it. Fine. That should keep them out of our hair long enough."

Trigger, Victoria urged herself. What the hell?! Just trigger already!

She heard a tiny, frightened yelp.

Taylor.

Trigger, come on!

Nothing.

No trigger. Still!

...But that didn't mean Victoria couldn't do heroic things.

She bit the hand holding her mouth, and then she went wild, flailing and punching.

There was a grunt of pain, and she broke free of the man's grip. She shoved him away, and managing to get to her feet.

Gang members, alright. She wasn't sure of their affiliations offhand, but they were carrying guns and ready for a fight.

Were they planning some sort of attack, maybe? Part of turf war?

She could see one still fumbling for his pistol, off to the side. He had been holding the massive dumpster's lid open, and it crashed down with a scraping, echoey crash.

A group of armed people, versus a frustratingly-non-triggering girl with a broken wrist.

She couldn't win this fight. But maybe she could scare them off.

"I'm part of New Wave!" She yelled, in what she hoped was an intimidating voice. "And if you hurt us, they'll - "

"Cape!" One of them cried out, panicked.

Then there was a flash of light, and a horribly loud sound that echoed in Victoria's ears. She felt a sudden jolt.

Victoria looked down, dazed.

She'd been shot.

She saw the hole in her stomach, she saw the blood pouring out, she saw

two massive shapes

in the void

Amy

Amy had seen them coming around the corner. A group of armed gang members, racing towards them.

She wished that she'd been smart enough to yell out for help, or throw open the door to the mall, or - or do any of the thousand things she hadn't done.

Even now, she was lucky. The other two had hands over their eyes, but the gang member who was holding Amy had his hand over her mouth, unintentionally leaving a gap for her eyes. She saw everything play out.

She tried to think of a way out of this, but she kept coming up short. She wasn't strong. She wasn't charismatic. She wasn't even that smart, at least not if her GPA was to be believed. She felt utterly useless.

All she could do was stand there, miserable, and listen to their attackers debate what to do with them.

Then she saw them lug Taylor over to the dumpster and - oh, god.

But if that's all they were doing, maybe they'd live through this.

They'd all get shoved in there together, and it would be horrific, but they would survive it.

But then Victoria...

Amy saw her fight off the ganger holding her down, and saw her get up.

Amy was more afraid than she'd ever been in her life.

Victoria feigned an authoritative voice, crying out and saying "I'm with New Wave! And if you hurt us, they'll - "

And then there was a light, and a sound, and - and Victoria was bleeding and -

Amy screamed, but she couldn't even hear it because the sound was still ringing in her ears, but she saw her, she saw the bleeding gunshot in her sister's stomach, and she struggled and cried out but she couldn't figure how to get to her, didn't know how to help her, she just couldn't see

two massive shapes

in the void

Taylor

Taylor knew she shouldn't have skipped school.

She hadn't had enough to time to understand what was happening, before someone was holding her hands behind her back, and covering her face.

Dad, Taylor realized, in terror. Dad doesn't know where I am! He probably doesn't even know that I'm missing!

Panic filled her mind completely, and she struggled to understand what her captors were saying, what was going on.

"..at's your big plan, huh? Tie them up, gag them? Sorry. I didn't bring any fucking rope."

"Shit. Shit, I don't - oh. Hey, wait wait wait. I have an idea."

From very close to her, she heard a horrible, wrenching sound of metal.

"What do you think? Looks like enough space. That work?"

There was a brief silence.

"Fuck it. Fine. That should keep them out of our hair long enough."

And then Taylor was suddenly lifted, pulled off the ground, and thrown into - into a nightmare.

Disgusting filth all around her, in piles. The dumpster, she realized. She was in that massive steel dumpster, sinking into the assorted, rotted waste of a shopping mall.

She yelped, and tried in desperation to escape, to get out and - !

But she was shoved back in by a tall man, and he put a finger to his lips, and she saw that he had a gun.

Taylor was crying, but she didn't move. She stayed quiet.

I don't want to die, She thought, numb. I don't want to die like this.

Then there was a sudden scrabbling and grunting from outside. The man holding the lid open turned, and it came crashing down.

Taylor was left in the trash and ooze, in that cramped space, with only a tiny crack of light giving her a vague impression of the filth around her. She could feel herself starting to sink into it. The more she tried to fight it, the more it pulled her in, like quicksand.

But she stayed quiet, because she didn't want to die.

And then she heard the blonde girl - Victoria, Taylor remembered she'd said her name was Victoria - call out: "I'm with New Wave! And if you hurt us, they'll - "

"Cape!"

And then a horribly loud sound all but devoured another of her senses.

It was a gunshot, she realized, horrified.

They're going to kill them and just leave me in here, Taylor thought. No one knows where I am. No one is going to find me. No one is going to hear me. No one is going to see

two massive shapes

in the void

Taylor, Amy, Victoria

She felt a touch of errant synesthesia,

a perspective from three angles,

or three angles multiplied by three,

or three angles forced into one,

like pieces of a whole,

torn together or stuck apart,

and she felt the metal in her stomach,

and she felt the filth dragging her down,

and she felt the helpless scream escape her,

she felt it all,

and all together,

and for a moment,

she wasn't sure which she she was.

Last edited: Aug 6, 2018

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Idiom Alpha

Confirmed Canon

Aug 6, 2018

#90

Trillium Waltz

2. Umbel

Victoria

Victoria was extremely disoriented.

What the hell was that?! She wondered, swaying a bit on her feet.

Another gunshot was enough to snap her out of it, but only barely. She sort of registered the impact, but... no, something was different.

She heard the tinkling sound of a bullet hitting the ground.

It had bounced off of her.

I'm invincible! Victoria realized. I triggered! I'm a cape!

Another gunshot. She felt this one. Blood trickled down from her shoulder. Her ears were ringing, muffling all sound.

I'm not invincible! Victoria corrected herself, as she began to freak out. I'm gonna die!

Victoria dodged away from the group of people, and moved towards the dumpster. If she could get past the one man, there, she could hide on the other side of the dumpster and get cover from the rest of the group.

She suddenly felt... something come back to her. Something covering her skin.

Victoria glanced down at herself. She saw a translucent layer of light encompassing her entire body, looking like an iridescent golden-red oil film.

Cool! Was her first thought. Her second thought was: A personal forcefield? But... one that shorts out if it gets shot. Great.

Considering there were a bunch of people shooting at her, that wasn't particularly helpful.

So Victoria pulled the forcefield off of her body, divided it into a panel-like lattice, and spread the fragments out into the air. She arranged them into a vague grid with a lot of holes, focusing the majority of the shield array in the directions of each of the gang members.

She hoped that it would keep her a little more protected, at least.

A wider perspective of the alley suddenly bloomed in her mind, specifically in the areas where she'd spread her forcefield. She saw a female thug raise her gun and fire, then heard a gunshot, and a hole formed in her perception. A part of her forcefield had fizzled out.

After a moment, she realized what was going on: she had a mental sense and control over each individual section of her shield, able to perceive sight and sound in vague areas around them. This perception seemed to get worse the smaller the segments were, annoyingly.

She felt for the other panels of forcefield she'd left hanging in the air. Oh, good. The rest of the segments hadn't changed. So each section had its own durability before flickering out. That was helpful, at least.

There was still the man near the dumpster, though, only a few feet ahead of her. She'd left a bit of her shield on the front of her torso, almost like a weird bulletproof vest.

He was raising his gun, but he hadn't fired yet.

She could close the distance.

Fuck it, here goes! Victoria decided.

She ran forward, pulling the forcefield off of her torso and trying to turn it into a weapon. She was going for a baseball bat, but instead it came out as a weird cudgel-y extension of her forearm. Regardless, she slammed it into the man's head.

The hit went through, knocking the man sprawling to the ground, but the makeshift weapon instantly fizzled out and vanished. Seriously?! Not just bullets, but any strong impact?!

She used the dumpster for cover, to take stock of herself. She kept her internal senses going, keeping an awareness of the other gang members through her network of small forcefields, but she also looked down at her bullet wound.

Just in time to see it starting to close up.

I'm a regenerator, Victoria assumed, awed. At first, she was thrilled, but then she remembered something. The bullets are still inside me!

She had to get them out before she healed, or else they'd probably be in there forever!

Just as this occurred to her, she felt a small portion of her forcefield start glimmering on her skin again. Must have been that piece the woman shot, earlier. So, each bit returns after its own delay. That's interesting, I guess.

Then she remembered the bullets, and began to panic. She tried to calm down.

She had a problem. She had a power. She could work this out.

She moved the piece of forcefield along her body, sliding it down to the wound in her gut. I really hope I don't screw up here.

Victoria put the forcefield into the bullet hole, closed her eyes, and felt a surreal sense of the inside of her body. She located the bullet, and gingerly had the forcefield start working it out of the quickly-closing wound.

The bullet fell out of her, falling to the ground with a metallic sound. She quickly pulled the forcefield out, and the injury closed.

She moved on to the bullet in her shoulder.

Fuck! It was far closer to healed. No way she'd be able to get the bullet out before the skin sealed up.

The forcefield on the front of her torso came back.

Victoria had an idea.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was stupid. Then she went ahead and did it anyway.

She sent the larger fragment of her power into the injury, pulling it open. Now that I think about it, I haven't been feeling any pain, she noted. Is my shield an anesthetic? Weird.

Then she used her power to dig around inside her skin, having the forcefield pull apart her flesh until she could find the bullet and force it out. It fell to the ground, just like the other one.

Her wounds closed oddly, leaving ragged, uneven scars. Victoria was uncertain that they'd healed right.

Still, they didn't hurt, and the bullets were out. She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she checked on the situation in the alley.

She'd been paying attention, in the background, and she'd seen all the gang members acting very strangely.

They'd dropped their guns, for instance, and now many of them were... crying?

Amy had somehow managed to break out of her attacker's grasp, but now the other gang members were rounding on her.

"Get away from me!" Amy screamed.

Shit, Victoria thought. Amy! I've got to -

The gang members started shaking violently where they stood, like they were all having a communal seizure.

Then they twisted around in unison, and walked away.

...What the hell? What happened to them?

Amy

Amy felt nauseous, like she'd gotten off a rollercoaster she'd been riding for hours.

What did I just go through?! She wondered, as the bizarre sense of vertigo started slipping away.

Not important. She shook her head, trying to shake off the haziness. I need to help Victoria! She's going to die!

She tried to pull herself out of the grip of the man holding her, but he was too strong.

Helpless, she glanced back over at Victoria.

Amy gasped.

It looked as though Victoria's skin was a swirling rainbow of golden-red colors, shifting around like liquid along the surface of her. She was beautiful.

Then another shot rang out. Amy's heart skipped a beat.

Victoria's rainbow-skin had vanished, leaving her looking confused. A third bullet caught her in the shoulder.

One of them fired off a shot, but Victoria's strange new ability blocked that one, too. At least, Amy assumed that was Victoria's ability. There was a spiraling array of kaleidoscopic light in the air, looking very similar to the appearance of her skin.

Still, there were plenty of holes in that defense, and it clearly wasn't impenetrable.

Amy saw several of the gang members lining up their shots.

No! Amy reached out desperately.

The gang members dropped their guns, gripping their hands and doubling over in pain.

She knew what had happened.

Their index fingers had all been broken.

And Amy understood, at the same time, that she'd been responsible for it. Because she could feel them. The part of them under their skins, their bodies, were vague shapes inside her mind. Like she was squinting through fog at an x-ray of a person.

She had powers, and they didn't seem like they were very nice ones.

Dull shock reverberated through her mind. She forced herself to set it aside.

She used her sense on the man next to her. It was different, since he was touching her skin. She had a better understanding of how he worked, and though it was still a very rough impression, she had the general gist of how his insides sort of fit together.

She mentally reached out and tugged on his esophagus.

He immediately let go of her and fell to the side, grasping at his throat and coughing painfully.

I need to help Victoria, Amy reminded herself again.

She searched the environment, using her odd new sense, and she found Victoria, over by the dumpster. Amy was pretty sure it was her, anyway. She doubted anyone else had bullet wounds in their stomach and shoulder.

She tried her best to heal her, to pull her wounds closed. Amy knew she was doing a bad job. Her work was clumsy and uncertain.

I should get closer, she thought. It works better when I'm close.

She started to move, but all the thugs looked at her in fury.

They'd seen what she'd done to her captor. They knew she'd been the one who broke their fingers.

They were coming towards her, murder in their eyes.

Amy panicked. She reached out with her aura again, desperately trying to shove them back -

- and they came to a sudden stop, as dark bruises started appearing all across the fronts of their bodies. They cringed, clearly in serious pain.

Oh, god, Amy shuddered. This is horrible. What kind of power do I have?!

She didn't want to hurt them! She just wanted them to go away.

She focused her aura towards their skulls, trying to shove that idea into all of their brains at once.

"Get away from me!" Amy yelled.

They writhed in place, as blood started trickling down from their eyes, painting their cheeks red.

Then they went slack-jawed, and obligingly turned and walked away silently. They kept walking until she couldn't see them anymore. She couldn't feel them with her aura, either. They were too far away.

"Amy!" Victoria called out, rushing over. "Are you okay?"

Amy stared at her trembling hands.

"What happened, Amy?" Victoria asked, grabbing Amy by the shoulders and shaking her. "Amy?"

"I - I don't know," Amy said, starting to cry. "I think that I maybe... um. I might have just done something really bad."

"It's okay," Victoria consoled her, still unsure of what was going on.

"I have powers," Amy whispered.

Victoria's eyes went wide. "You too?"

Amy nodded.

"I had a sort of feeling, when it happened," Victoria said, slowly. "It was like I was - I don't know. Like I was tripping or something."

"Like you weren't quite sure who you were," Amy confirmed. "As though you were three different people at - "

They froze.

They stared at each other in realization.

Taylor.

They immediately ran to the dumpster, and worked together to pull the lid up.

There was a sudden gust of wind as it came open, and a flood of tiny scarlet-red lights flew out. There were dozens and dozens of them.

Amy was so surprised that she almost dropped the lid back down again. But she caught herself.

The little red lights seemed alive, darting to and fro, landing on places before taking off again. Amy felt for them with her aura, and she confirmed that they were, in fact, insect-like creatures. They weren't any species Amy had ever seen before, though, and they gave off an immense amount of light considering the size of their tiny bodies.

She heard a small, miserable moan coming from inside the dumpster.

"Help," Taylor croaked. "Help."

"It's okay. We're here." Victoria reached in and pulled on her arm. Taylor came flying outward, as though she'd been thrown out of a window. Victoria was surprised, but she managed to catch her, hugging her in her arms.

"I don't know how to make it stop," Taylor whispered.

Seconds later, she slumped over. She'd fainted.

Amy gasped. Taylor had been thin before, but now she looked skeletal. There were long rows of chitinous holes along her arms, too, and... something was growing out of her back, but it looked half-formed, diseased. There was also garbage and waste all over her, still, which didn't help.

"Holy shit," Victoria breathed. She gripped Taylor's collar and pulled her up off the ground with one arm. "She weighs, like... forty pounds."

Amy reached out with her aura, and found that Taylor's body was bordering on hollow. She seemed to have almost no body fat whatsoever, and her bones were much less thick than they should have been.

"We have to get her to a doctor," Victoria said, looking ill herself.

"Do you seriously think a doctor will be able to help with this?" Amy bit her lip. "Um... I have an idea."

Amy reached over and put her hands on Taylor. She tried to heal her. But she couldn't do it from nothing. She needed something to pull from.

"Vicky, do you mind losing a few pounds?"

"What?" Victoria blinked, startled. "Um... no, I guess?"

"Let me touch your stomach." Amy ordered. "Move your, uh... thing."

"My thing?"

"I don't know what to call it! Your kaleidoscope pores, or whatever. Move them, so I can touch your skin."

Victoria did so, looking kind of uncomfortable.

Amy very carefully pulled fat out of Victoria's body, transferring it into Taylor's.

Amy hoped that she wasn't about to kill both of them like an idiot.

She distantly noticed that the scarlet-light-bugs were swarming loosely around them, circling aimlessly.

"What are you doing?" Victoria squirmed. "Ew, I can feel my guts moving around!"

"Done," Amy panted, pulling away. "I think."

She checked on Taylor. Still alive, and looking healthier.

Victoria, on the other hand, looked queasy. "Okay, seriously. What the hell is your power?"

"What's your power?" Amy deflected.

"Fancy light shields and stuff. I don't frickin' know! It's been, what, all of five minutes?" Victoria grumbled. "But I don't make people's guts move around, that's for sure."

"Well, not all of us are lucky enough to just get pretty skin, Vicky!" Amy snapped. "Some of us get... gross and scary powers." She looked down at Taylor.

"You think my forcefield's pretty?" Victoria sounded thrilled about that. "Awesome. I thought it might be kind of weird-looking."

"Oh my god, Victoria, focus!" Amy rolled her eyes. "We need to get Taylor somewhere safe, and make her start eating immediately. Call Carol, see if she'll pick us up."

"I might have a faster way," Victoria said, grinning. She playfully levitated parts of her forcefield, arranging them into intricate shapes. "How do you feel about... spiders?"

Taylor

Taylor vomited.

I'm going crazy, or I'm sick, she thought, wiping her mouth off miserably. I'm seeing things. I don't know what exactly I'm seeing, but - but it's definitely things.

Taylor felt slightly different, but she wasn't sure why. Nothing about her had changed.

She was still trapped in a dark, disgusting nightmare, from which she might never escape.

I'm so stupid. I'm going to die here, Taylor hugged herself, shivering. She peeked up out of the thin crack in the dumpster's lid, and she was barely able to see the sky. It felt like a sliver of normal in a sea of horrible. I wish I could just fly out of here like Alexandria, go home, and then pretend none of this ever happened. I don't mind getting detention or having Dad yell at me. I don't even care about Emma. All I want is to get out of here.

She felt a prickling in her back, and felt horrible again. She tried to see what was scraping behind, but she couldn't. It was so dark.

In turning, some container of disgusting mush popped, pouring over her arms. She winced.

She tried desperately to wipe the goop off of her arms, but she couldn't even see what she was doing.

Can't I at least have light? She silently begged the universe, still running her fingers across her forearms. I don't even know what I'm covered in!

But then her arms started popping.

She froze.

Arms weren't supposed to pop.

Before she could even process that, she was bathed in crimson hues. A tiny light appeared on her arm, and it let her see.

At first, she was glad she could see things, even if she was confused by the source of them.

Then she discovered the source of them. And she wasn't glad at all.

Bumpy, chitinous holes had started growing out of her forearm. They looked disgusting and alien. Inhuman.

And from those holes, tiny red lights were pouring out. Slowly, at first, then more quickly. Four or five at a time.

Taylor started to scream.

She heard gunshots from outside.

Taylor shut her mouth. I don't want to die.

She looked at the holes with morbid fascination. They were like hives - literal, actual, bug hives - and they were making... something.

She felt a dim sense beyond her own. Information she didn't know how to process.

It felt as though she were looking at herself from the outside, coated in filth and crimson light.

She wished the red lights would stay away from her. And then, suddenly, they did.

She blinked.

Circle around my head, Taylor thought.

The little red lights raced each other around her head.

Taylor gasped.

I have powers. She realized, suddenly excited. I'm special! I can do things! I -

Her stomach rumbled horribly, and she felt faint.

She felt things inside of her shifting, sharply and nastily.

It was gross and it hurt and she wanted it to stop.

More than anything, she felt hungrier than she had ever felt before.

She was ravenous. She almost considered eating the trash around her, but stopped herself.

Am I dying? She wondered, honestly considering it as possibility. I feel sick.

"Get away from me!" Someone yelled, outside.

Taylor distantly recognized that voice. One of the girls. Victoria? No, the other one. Taylor didn't remember her name. It was short.

She heard people talking, but it was too quiet to understand what they were saying. It was like murmuring.

Taylor stayed quiet. She didn't want to die.

But maybe she was dying already.

Then the dumpster's lid was lifted wide open. Taylor almost screamed, but then she recognized the girls from before.

She tried to move, but her limbs didn't feel right.

"Help," she begged, not knowing what else she could possibly do. "Help."

She remembered the red lights.

She mentally ordered them to circle around her at a much further distance. She could do that, at least.

"It's okay. We're here." Victoria reached in, softly gripping Taylor by the arm. She pulled -

- and Taylor came tumbling out of the dumpster. She'd been pulled with far more intensity than she could have ever expected.

At first, she thought that Victoria might have super strength or something.

Then Taylor looked down at herself, and she realized that it was her.

She was skin and bones. Practically a stick figure. She couldn't even stand up on her own.

She was going to waste away. She was going to die.

"I don't know how to make it stop," She whispered, terrified.

There was more gurgling in her stomach, and something hit its limit.

The world flickered, and then went dark.

~ ~ ~

Taylor woke up coughing. She felt very sick.

There was a street around her, and she was - there was someone holding her, she realized.

The girl whose name she couldn't remember. But she wasn't looking at Taylor. She had a disgruntled expression, and she was glaring at Victoria.

Girl-Whose-Name-Was-A-Mystery said: "This is not better than having Carol pick us up."

"Are you kidding? Ames, look at me! Look at what I'm doing!" Victoria laughed. "This is awesome!"

They were on top of something small, strange, and iridescent. It looked like it was coming... out of Victoria's legs?

There was skittering and scratching beneath them, as they moved wildly down the sidewalk. It felt unbalanced and too fast.

"Coming through!" Victoria announced loudly. "Step aside! We're capes, and this is just a routine power-usage, citizens. Nothing to worry about!"

Taylor wanted to sit up a bit to look at what they were on, then regretted trying.

She felt like she might throw up.

"Oh, hey!" Mystery Girl - no, wait, Victoria had called her 'Ames', right. Ames gently readjusted Taylor, laying her head down on her lap. She cleared her throat, looking away. "Sorry, this is a bit awkward, I know."

"What's... what's happening?" Taylor wheezed. "Where are we?"

"We're on my iridescent spider legs, duh!" Victoria laughed brightly. Then she lowered her voice. "Hey, Taylor. I'm glad you're awake. We were scared for a while there."

"We're taking you somewhere safe, so you can lie down and rest." Ames murmured. "Relax. Don't try to move much."

"You have powers?" Taylor asked, awed.

"I guess, yeah." Ames gave Taylor a funny look. "You do, too, you know."

Taylor suddenly remembered.

She started to panic, and her breaths came faster and faster.

"No, oh no," Taylor whimpered in a thin voice. "Please no!"

"Shhh." Ames held Taylor still. "You're okay. Just rest, and - oh. Wow." She was distracted by something around Taylor's shoulders. She stared at it.

Victoria stopped to gaze at whatever it was, too, and a stunned expression crossed her face.

Taylor wasn't sure what they were looking at, but she could feel something tingling along her back.

It felt a little electric, but also sensitive. Tender, somewhat like bruised skin.

She felt almost like she had another pair of arms, sticking out of her shoulder-blades.

Terror claimed Taylor completely. She started to cry. "Oh, fuck! What am I? What's on my back?!"

"You don't know?" Victoria gaped. "Oh my god, and Amy said I was lucky. You get frickin' wings?!"

Taylor's fear was replaced with confusion. "What did you say?"

"Wings! You have wings!" Victoria repeated, annoyed. "They're a bit insect-y, though. And kind of gross."

"Vicky!" Ames - no, Amy. Amy was irritated. "Would you shut up, please?"

"What? I mean, they're still wings." Victoria muttered. "I wish I could fly."

"They probably don't even work." Amy sighed. "I'm sensing a lot of weird nerves and stuff. It's like they were added on, built from things inside her. I think. Maybe. But, in any case, she'd need way bigger wings to fly, right?"

Taylor tried to move the 'arms' on her back. They felt very long. She tried to stretch them all the way out.

She could see them, now. They had a vaguely iridescent crystalline facade, with translucent veins running all across them. There were strands of goop reaching off towards her back, like snot. It was kind of gross.

"See? There you go! They can even fold in and out." Victoria said, triumphantly. "So she can fly. Bet you anything."

"Would you just focus on getting home?!" Amy groaned. "You can make your forcefield into spider limbs. Be happy with that. I don't get anything, really."

"Fine," Victoria frowned, but that didn't last for long. Her excitement kept shining through, making her grin.

"I have wings?" Taylor asked, quietly, just to check that she wasn't delusional. "For real?"

"Um... yeah," Amy said, raising an eyebrow.

Taylor had a very weak smile. "Cool."

"It is cool!" Victoria agreed heartily.

"Okay, yeah," Amy admitted, "it's pretty cool."

Taylor still felt light-headed and sickly, though.

"I'm tired," she mumbled.

"You should sleep," Amy said, putting a hand on Taylor's forehead. "We'll look after you. Promise."

Taylor believed her. They seemed like nice people, if a bit strange.

So she closed her eyes, and was embraced by a warm, comfortable darkness.

As Taylor slipped away into unconsciousness, she dared to feel a little hopeful for the future.

Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

Last edited: Aug 7, 2018

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Aug 6, 2018

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Threadmarks 3. Imbricate

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Idiom Alpha

Idiom Alpha

Confirmed Canon

Aug 8, 2018

#186

Trillium Waltz

3. Imbricate

Taylor

Taylor drifted in and out of consciousness.

For a while, she was with the others, scuttling around on Victoria's iridescent spider-platform.

~ ~ ~

Then Taylor was on a street outside a house, and Amy was shaking her lightly.

"Hey, Taylor," She was saying. "Taylor!"

"Mmmrf." Taylor grunted.

"There you are. We're really close to our house, okay?" Amy put a hand on Taylor's forehead. "Do you think you can walk?"

Taylor tried to sit up. She succeeded!

Taylor tried to stand up. She failed, falling over immediately.

"How about if I help you?" Victoria put an arm around Taylor. "Lean on me."

Taylor tried to stand up. She still couldn't really do it.

"Here," Amy put an arm around her, too.

Taylor was able to sort of stumble along!

Success? Taylor wondered. It was pretty much the same as carrying her.

They led her up to the door, and knocked. "Mom!" Victoria yelled. "I have powers!"

"You could have waited until she opened the door," Amy said, annoyed. "You don't have to tell the whole neighborhood. Besides, we don't know if Taylor wants to keep her identity secret yet. Stop drawing attention to her!"

"Uh, she has wings, Ames. Wings."

"She could hide them."

"They're each like four feet long!"

"Only when extended. I mean, look, she's got them folded up right now." Amy lightly patted Taylor's back. "They're, like, backpack-sized. She could definitely hide them with a little effort. The point is, you can't make these decisions for other people, Vicky."

"...Okay, you're right." Victoria nodded, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry, Taylor."

"S'alright," Taylor muttered, her brain a sickly marshmallow.

A serious-looking blonde woman answered the door. She gasped as soon as she saw Victoria.

"Hi, Mom!" Victoria grinned. She'd pulled her forcefield back to her skin, so she looked like a human oil film again.

"Hi, Carol," said Amy, at the same time.

"Hi, Momrol," murmured Taylor. Peer pressure had gotten to her.

Carol gave Taylor an odd look, then pulled all three of them into the house.

"What happened?" Carol asked Victoria.

"Oh there was a gang and stuff," Victoria shrugged. "Check this out!" She formed a couple of crude flowers out of her forcefield, spinning them in midair.

Carol was surprised, and impressed! "That's some very fine control, dear. Well done."

"Carol, there's something else." Amy said, quietly. "I triggered, too."

Carol's eyes narrowed for a moment, (probably just a trick of the light, Taylor thought) and then she answered: "Oh."

Amy nodded.

"What kind of... power is it? How would you describe it?"

"I'm not sure." Amy said, nervously.

Carol seemed reluctant to leave it at that, but she did. She turned to Taylor, instead. "And, who is...?"

"Tayeebert." Taylor slurred.

"Excuse me?"

"Tol- Talyar- Taylor. Taylor Hebert," Taylor had to focus to speak right. Her vision was swimming, and her body felt dead. She was very out of it, but she tried to be polite. "Please to nice to meet you."

Carol looked at her weirdly. "Carol Dallon. Er... please to nice to meet you too."

"Taylor's really nice," Victoria smiled. "She's super cool. We go way back."

Taylor was happy to be praised! But she thought Victoria maybe might be confused.

"She triggered, too." Amy added, with an annoyed glance at Victoria. "We all sort of triggered around the same time, seems like."

"You multi-triggered?" Carol's eyes widened. "You're a cluster?"

"A what?" Amy asked, blankly.

"We are?!" Victoria gaped. Then she thought about it. "Oh. Oh, wow! We totally are, aren't we? That's crazy."

"What's a multi-trigger-cluster?" Taylor asked, blinking to keep the blurriness out of her eyes.

"It's a thing," Victoria said, knowingly.

"Do go on," Amy said.

"Multiple capes triggering at the same time! That's sometimes called a cluster trigger, or multi-trigger! And each of the capes gets different powers," Victoria announced, with pride equivalent to delivering a college thesis.

"And?" Amy asked. "What else?"

Victoria paused.

"When multiple capes trigger at the same time, it's sometimes called a cluster trigger, or multi-trigger, and each of the capes gets different powers," Victoria repeated, as though trying to explain something to a small child.

"Yes, but does that mean anything? What makes it different from a normal trigger?"

"Slightly different power sets, I think?"

"You think."

"How should I know?!" Victoria snapped. "That's all I've read about it. It's not like I know everything about capes!"

"You kind of do, though." Amy said.

"Now Amy," Carol began, but she was interrupted.

"Hey! Did I overhear someone saying - oh!" A man walked into the room, and was startled by Victoria. Then he smiled. "You triggered!"

"Yup! I did it!" Victoria preened, displaying record levels of smugness.

"That's great, honey!" He came over and gave her a big hug. "I know how long you've been hoping for it. Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" Victoria laughed. She started arranging force fields into some sort of intricate statue thing. "Look at this, dad! Isn't it cool?"

Taylor decided it was a good time to lose consciousness again. She totally meant to do it.

~ ~ ~

Taylor woke up in someone else's bed, in someone else's bathrobe.

The bed was a nice bed. A lot nicer than hers. Very floofy. The bathrobe was also floofy, as well as hot pink. Taylor wasn't sure what she thought of it - it seemed a bit silly, really - but it was very comfortable. There was no sign of her old clothes, a fact which, after a little thought, she was grateful for. They hadn't exactly been pleasant, the last time she'd worn them.

Underneath her, she felt her new pair of 'arms'. When they were fully folded up, it felt like she had a large, thick pillow on her back.

Taylor slowly sat up. She was so hungry that she could barely think.

Luckily, someone had apparently prepared for this! There was a table next to her, upon which was perched not only her glasses, but also a plate piled high with dozens of small sandwiches. She scrambled to get her glasses on, then started devouring the sandwiches rapidly, one after the other, until the plate was empty. There was a gallon-sized bottle of water set aside there, too. She drank the whole thing.

She was still hungry. But at least she could think again. Sort of. She noticed that the room was covered in flickering red lights. She flashed back to the dumpster, and had to force herself not to start retching. But she remembered being able to control them.

Dance, Taylor ordered, experimentally. Up and down, round and round.

The lights hopped to it, dodging around in the air according to the pattern she'd set.

Neat. Okay, now, form into a square pattern!

They did so easily.

It was kind of fun, in a freaky, cathartic sort of way. She kept trying different things, and she soon learned that she didn't need to actively think at them. They were pretty much extensions of herself. In fact... she remembered something she'd noticed, a while back, and she tried to access it again. She closed her eyes and covered her ears -

- and she saw herself, and the room around her, from dozens of warped perspectives. Her vision was bathed in scarlet, and she could hear things in an echoey, unnatural tone. She yelped, blinking her eyes open and pulling her hands down from her ears. That was... a little too much for her.

But now that she'd thought about it, she could feel their senses alongside her own, if more distantly. This part of her power seemed to be always on. She'd just shunted it into the back of her head, somehow. Taylor shivered. I guess I'll have to get used to it, She thought to herself.

So... are you strong at all? She wondered, gazing at the little lights. Can you lift things? She glanced over at the empty plate on her bedside table, and she reached out, tugging at the part of herself that was not herself, telling them what to do. The scarlet lights zipped down to the plate, surrounding it. They tried to lift it, but seemed unable.

Oh well, Taylor sighed. Worth a shot, at le-

Undeterred, the red lights spread further out around the lower edges of the plate, and cords of golden light flickered into existence between them. These cords formed a sort of web, which the red-lights used to lift the plate off of the bedside table, obediently carrying it over in front of Taylor and hovering there patiently.

Taylor stared at them, awed. She picked up the plate and put it aside, then started poking at the golden cords of light. They seemed tough and smooth, and glassy in texture. On an impulse, Taylor smacked them, and her hand came away aching. No reaction. They didn't even bend. The red-lights hadn't moved at all, either, as though the force hadn't reached them - or as though there'd been no force at all.

It felt like the cords of light didn't obey physics whatsoever, like they didn't exist. But, clearly, they did. Taylor was confused. Fascinated, but confused. She told the red-lights to disperse, and the cords between them flickered briefly before simply ceasing to be.

She tried to get a single cord, and ordered them to make one. Two red-lights zipped down in front of her, and another light-cord snapped into existence between them. Taylor nodded to herself, thoughtfully. It seemed like two red-lights were required for each cord, one acting as Point A and the other as Point B, with the cord connecting them. She could have the paired red-lights make the same movements together, and the cord of light would move along with them, but she couldn't make just one of them move, or the cord would vanish, and she'd have to make a new one. She could add more red-lights, however, creating Point C, Point D, and so on, adding extra lines. But the same rules applied.

Taylor was just starting to feel like she could understand it, when she heard a gasp from off to the side. She looked over and saw Victoria standing in the open door, with another plate full of sandwiches.

"You have forcefields too?!" Victoria walked over and sat on the bed next to her. "That's awesome!"

"I don't know if they're forcefields, exactly." Taylor said, slowly. "But, then again, I don't know what else to call them. Besides 'connect-the-dots', I guess." Taylor stared longingly at the plate of sandwiches Victoria held in her arms.

"What, these?" Victoria frowned, gesturing at the dozens of sandwiches. "Sorry, these are mine."

Taylor's heart sank.

"Oh my god, Taylor, I'm kidding!" Victoria laughed, setting the plate down on Taylor's lap. "They're all for you! Seriously, Amy's orders. We've been making them for the past hour or so, and there's more on the way. How are you feeling? Oh, and what do you think of my room?"

"Iff nyyf," Taylor replied, her mouth full of sandwich.

"I see, I see." Victoria nodded, feigning pensiveness.

Taylor felt a little embarrassed, but she couldn't help gorging herself. She was so completely, ridiculously hungry.

Amy peeked around the corner. "Hey!" She said, cheerily. She entered the room, too, sitting down next to Victoria. "Did you sleep okay?" Amy asked, smiling at Taylor.

Taylor's embarrassment raised exponentially. Both of them were looking at her.

But her endless feast would not be delayed.

"Mrmf." Taylor said.

"Mrmf?" Amy asked.

"Mrmf!" Victoria confirmed.

Amy shrugged. "Carol wanted to talk to us about something when Taylor woke up, I think."

"I'll let Mom know." Victoria gestured, and her forcefield slid off of her body and vanished out the door and down the hallway.

"You can't use forcefields for everything, Vicky," said Amy.

"I can try!" Victoria winked.

Amy rolled her eyes.

"So, Taylor! We still don't know each other very well." Victoria clapped her hands together. "Now, this is very important: Are you ticklish?"

Taylor froze, a sandwich-and-a-half still in her mouth.

This was the most dangerous question she had ever been asked.

In a mild panic, she called on her red-lights, and they zipped down. She spread them out in a specific pattern, then activated them, causing the cords to flicker into being.

The lines of light very clearly spelled out NO directly in front of Victoria's face.

"Uh, whoa." Amy stared at Taylor's light-cords. "Okay, so... that's a thing."

Feeling somewhat shy about her newfound powers, Taylor dissipated the cords. She had the red-lights return to circling around up near the ceiling.

"Are you sure you're not ticklish?" Victoria asked Taylor, scooting closer to her diabolically. "Like, completely sure?"

Taylor knew then that she was doomed.

But then Carol cleared her throat loudly. Everyone jumped a little, then turned to look at her. She was standing in the doorway. As soon as she'd gotten their attention, she walked a little bit further into the room, giving Taylor a shrewd look. "Taylor. Are you planning to stay the night?"

Taylor almost choked on her sandwich. She coughed, quickly putting her hand to her mouth. She was barely managing to keep herself from spraying crumbs all over the place. "I - I don't know," Taylor said. "I could..." She hesitated. "I have to call my dad. He's probably wondering where I am."

Victoria and Amy shared a look.

"You don't have to," Amy said, carefully. "If you don't want to."

Taylor knew what they were imagining. She bit her lip. "I told you: it's not what you think it is. Honest."

Carol seemed mystified.

"Hey," Amy quickly said, changing the subject. "Carol, she's not safe to move. Besides, she can't possibly hide her powers from anyone yet, if that's something she wants to do. She needs some time to rest."

Taylor had to admit that Amy was right, at least about the 'not safe to move' part. Taylor still doubted that she could even stand up.

"I don't know what to tell Dad," Taylor said, finally. "He needs to know where I am. He'll freak out, otherwise."

"Do you have his number?" Carol asked.

Taylor gave it to her.

"I'll sort it all out," Carol gave Taylor a very thin smile. Taylor wasn't entirely sure that it was real, but she wasn't about to bring that up.

"You're all really nice," Taylor said, and she meant it. "Thank you for - for everything. Really, thanks." Her breath caught on that last word, and she found herself crying. "Sorry," she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Then she remembered that her clothes were borrowed. "Sorry for that, too, and - oh!"

Victoria had suddenly launched forward and pulled Taylor into a hug, surprising her. "You don't have to apologize for crying!"

Amy had embraced Taylor, too, almost at exactly the same time. "Honestly, Taylor, it's not any trouble."

Taylor slowly hugged them back, sniffling. They all held the hug for a long, long while.

Carol watched them, clearly unnerved. "Victoria, Amy, how long have you known Taylor?"

"Not sure." Victoria glanced over at her mother, without breaking away from the hug. "A few hours, maybe. Why?"

Carol's eyes widened. She took a couple of steps back, and accidentally collided with the man Taylor had seen just before she'd passed out.

"Mark!" Carol squeaked, spinning to look at him. "God, don't do that!"

"Uh... sorry?" Mark said, confused. "I wanted to see how the girls were doing. I just got off the phone."

"And?" Carol sounded terribly anxious. "What did she say?"

"She was really into it. She said she was in the neighborhood, anyway, and that she would swing by tomorrow." Mark tilted his head, looking at Taylor, Victoria, and Amy's group-hug. "...Huh."

"I know." Carol was shuddering. "Mark, I've heard stories about clusters - !"

"Shh." Mark quickly put a finger to his lips. Not quickly enough.

Victoria finally pulled away from the hug, looking back at her parents. "Stories? What stories?"

"It's nothing," Mark said.

"What stories?" Amy echoed, also pulling away.

"Again, it's nothing." Mark raised his hands defensively. "Don't bother asking us, anyway. We called in an expert. She'll be here tomorrow."

"Nobody from the PRT, I hope." Amy said, uncomfortable. "Her secret identity would vanish overnight."

"There's nothing wrong with the Wards." Carol pointed out, a little shakily. "Maybe she should join the Wards."

"No way!" Victoria yelped. "She's joining New Wave!"

"I am?" Taylor asked.

"Well, duh!" Victoria laughed.

"Vicky," Amy said, in a stern way, "what did we talk about, just before we got back to the house? Hint: Not making decisions for other people?"

"Oh, come on, Amy. Don't tell me you don't want her to join New Wave, too."

"I mean..." Amy coughed, looking away. "That's beside the point."

Carol appeared almost ill, for some reason.

"Anyway! It's nobody from the Wards," Mark confirmed, "although she used to be a Ward, a long time back. But she's been an independent hero for years. She's a multi-trigger, too, so you can ask her whatever questions you want. The two of us mostly just have rumors and hearsay."

"Tell us the rumors, then!" Victoria insisted. "And the hearsay!"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Mark shook his head. "You should just talk it over between yourselves. Try to think of questions you might want to ask her." Mark paused for a moment, considering something. "Wait a minute. Taylor, are you a second-generation cape?"

Taylor blinked. "I'm not entirely sure what that means."

"Oh. That's probably a no, then." Mark went pale. "Wow. You must have had a really tough day, huh?"

Taylor flinched.

"Sorry. You don't have to answer that. But... you three might want to spend some more time together," Mark suggested, cautiously. "Give each other, uh, support."

"Mark." Carol's voice was cold.

"Carol." Mark stared back at her.

Carol looked startled by his response. She shook her head, striding unhappily out of the room. Mark followed her, sighing.

Taylor got the vague sense that there were things about this family that were maybe a little... off.

But then, who was she to talk? Besides, they'd all been nice to her.

Still, as much as she wanted to spend more time with Amy and Victoria, and even if Mark thought they should, Taylor was still exhausted.

"Would you be okay with me sleeping here?" Taylor asked, after she'd finished off the last of the sandwiches. She felt awkward. "I know it's your bed. I just, um... can't really get out of it by myself, at the moment."

"Hey, no worries!" Victoria shrugged. "We can share it. I'll sleep on the other side."

Amy had a brief, odd look of disappointment. Taylor wasn't sure why.

"Thanks," Taylor told Victoria.

After Victoria and Amy had gone, Taylor put her glasses on the bedside table, curled up under the covers, and went back to sleep.

This time, she slept through the night.

Victoria

Victoria slept badly.

It wasn't just because Taylor was sleeping next to her, seeming very delicate in many ways, and Victoria was afraid of rolling over and accidentally squishing her.

It was also because Victoria was having awful dreams.

She woke up at the crack of dawn, feeling exhausted. Taylor was still asleep, however, so Victoria got out of bed quietly, trying not to wake her. Victoria lazily brushed her teeth in the bathroom, then headed out into the dining room, still wearing her pajamas.

She sat down at the table, she lay her arms down on it, and then she buried her head in her hands. She felt miserable.

She distantly heard Dad enter the room.

"You're up early," he yawned.

Victoria groaned quietly in response. She heard other footsteps, and she glanced up to see a haggard Amy stumble into the dining room too. She collapsed in a chair beside Victoria, pitifully resting her forehead directly on the tabletop.

"I feel a little left out," Dad joked. "What's going on?"

"Bad dreams," Victoria and Amy answered, at the same time.

They shared a startled look.

"I dreamed," Amy began slowly, "about a girl with red hair, who was kind of - "

" - a horrible bitch," Victoria finished.

"I was going to say mean," Amy coughed, "but I suppose horrible bitch works."

They stared at each other, shocked. Dad stared at them, too.

"Did I actually visit your dreams last night?" Victoria asked, dumbstruck. "That's... wow. I can't figure out if that's cool or freaky. Maybe it's both."

"It wasn't my dream. I didn't recognize the redhead at all," Amy said. "Is she someone you know?"

"No." Victoria shook her head. "Must have been Taylor's, then. Three-way dream sharing?! This is nuts!"

"It was more like a nightmare, honestly, with all those little shocks of pain."

"You felt those? They're what woke me up."

"Yeah, me too," Amy said, biting her lip. "Is Taylor still asleep?"

"I think so."

"I'm going to go check on her," Amy decided, standing up.

"Me too." Victoria joined her.

They started walking quickly in the direction of Victoria's room.

"I'm going to make breakfast, I guess." Dad called after them. "Tell Taylor I'll make her some, too, if she wakes up!"

"Thanks, Dad!" Victoria called back.

Amy and Victoria practically flew into the room, rushing over to look at Taylor.

She was sweating a lot, and her expression was tense.

Victoria cursed herself for not noticing before.

"She's hurting," Amy whispered. "Maybe we gave her too many sandwiches."

"How? Didn't you use your weird squirmy-guts power on her?" Victoria whispered back. "You said you made it so she could metabolize them really quick."

"I mean... yeah." Amy looked nervous. "But I don't know if it worked."

"Wha-?!" Victoria had to force herself to keep herself at a low volume. "Amy. Why the heck did you try something like that, if you didn't know whether it would work?"

"I wanted to help her recover more quickly."

"Holy crap, Amy." Victoria glared at her. "You're so stupid."

"Hey, I'm not stupid!" Amy sputtered indignantly. "You're stupid!"

Taylor whimpered in her sleep.

"Keep your voice down," Victoria murmured.

"Sorry."

"I've got an idea for figuring what's wrong, maybe." Victoria said. She hesitantly pulled a small fragment of forcefield off of herself. Then she opened Taylor's mouth, put the forcefield on her tongue, and closed her mouth again.

"What are you - ?!"

"Shh!" Victoria hissed. "I felt something happen with my forcefields, back in the alley. I'm trying to see if it works on Taylor too."

Amy was silent, but she looked very uncomfortable.

Victoria closed her eyes, mentally focusing on the forcefield in Taylor's mouth. Her perception quickly expanded from it, and she gained a rapid understanding of Taylor's nervous system.

Victoria shivered. It was a lot less weird when she was perceiving her own body. This felt a little too, uh, intimate.

"I think your metabolic thingy probably worked, but her brain doesn't fully understand what's happening, so you might need to undo it later on." Victoria whispered, keeping her eyes closed. "Anyway, that's not what's causing the pain. Her body's trying to finish connecting her central nervous system to her arm-hole-things and her wings, and it's sending lots of weird signals through it as a side-effect. I might be able to lessen the pain response, though." She casually pulled apart more sections of her forcefield, directing the fragments to rest on certain key nerves along Taylor's body. Most of the erratic pain signals in Taylor's body subsided.

Yes! Victoria grinned to herself. I knew they were anesthetic!

She opened her eyes, and her comprehension of Taylor's nervous system vanished.

She softly tugged Taylor's mouth open again, drifted the forcefield off of her tongue, and politely closed it again. Taylor was breathing a little more easily, and she didn't look nearly as tense. Victoria gently wiped a bit of the sweat off of Taylor's face, trying not to wake her.

"She should be feeling a bit better now," Victoria whispered, turning to Amy.

Amy was staring open-mouthed at Victoria. "...What the fuck?"

"What?" Victoria feigned ignorance.

"That's not fair." Amy breathed. "You can sense her insides better than I can."

"Mm, what can I say?" Victoria dramatically ran her hand through her hair, ending the motion with a flourish and a toothy grin. "I'm the best."

Amy looked like she might cry.

"Whoa, hey, I'm just kidding." Victoria gripped Amy by the shoulders, leading her out into the hall and closing the door. "I can only see nerves, I think. Sensations, physical feelings, sure, but that's it."

"...Whatever," Amy muttered. "I'm going to go back to sleep."

Amy walked back to her own room, pointedly not looking at Victoria.

Victoria felt like she'd messed up, but she wasn't entirely sure how.

Still, she felt tired, too. She went back into her room, and snuggled into bed, across from Taylor.

This is nice, Victoria thought, as she drifted off.

Amy

Amy woke up covered in confetti.

A strange woman in a mouse-like costume was bouncing up and down on Amy's bed, throwing streamers everywhere.

Amy wasn't entirely sure she'd woken up yet.

"Happy belated Trigger Day!" The mouse-woman joyously proclaimed, which she followed up by tooting on a tiny mouse-themed kazoo.

"You keep saying that, but I'm pretty sure 'Trigger Day' isn't a thing," Victoria yawned, swaying tiredly in the doorway to Amy's room. She was picking confetti out of her hair, and she looked like she'd just woken up. "I mean, aren't trigger events universally horrible?"

"Yes, but that's the point." The mouse-woman laughed. "It's like partying at a funeral! Why focus on the negative, you know?"

"Wha... what is happening?" Amy grunted as she sat up, still blinking the sleep-dust out of her eyes.

"Howdy, Amy!" The mouse-woman said, with a little wave. "In case you didn't hear me before: Happy belated Trigger Day!"

"I heard you." Amy rubbed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mouse Protector, of course!" She tooted the kazoo again, for emphasis. "Nice to meetcha!"

"Why did you throw confetti all over my room?" Amy asked, flabbergasted.

"For the purposes of celebration, obviously!" Mouse Protector announced, with great cheer. "Anyway, you're all awake now, so I'm going to go get the blackboard. Go hang out with your wing-a-ling friend, and I'll get set up in a jiffy!" With that, she winked out of existence.

"Am I still asleep?" Amy asked Victoria.

"Am I?" Victoria asked Amy.

They met each other's eyes. They laughed, just a little bit.

Amy slowly got up, following Victoria out of the room. Amy glanced at the clock as they passed through the hallway. "Crap, is it really three p.m.?"

"Yeah, we missed out on breakfast and lunch," Victoria groaned. "Hey, did you dream about some lady calling you a tiny bird or something?"

"I think so." Amy mumbled. "She was playing a flute, right?"

"Yeah, that's her." Victoria nodded. "So, have any idea who she is?"

"Nope."

"Me neither." Victoria frowned. "Taylor's dreams are weird."

"Huh? Did someone say my name?" Taylor called out from Victoria's room.

Amy and Victoria shared another look. "Should we tell her?" Amy whispered.

"Nah." Victoria snickered. "Let's see how long we can keep it hidden."

"It feels kind of like an invasion of her privacy," Amy murmured.

"If we're dream-sharing, she'll probably end up in one of ours, eventually. She'll find out then."

"We don't know that she will."

"Hey, if not, then we'll tell her." Victoria grinned. "Relax, Ames. We'll keep it copacetic."

"Keep it what?"

"I'm... not sure." Victoria looked confused for a moment. "I think I'm still half-asleep. Sorry."

"How long are you guys going to stand out in the hall?" Taylor called out, nervously.

They jumped, startled. Then they headed into Victoria's room. Amy felt a bit guilty.

It seemed like Taylor had been awake for a little while. She was sitting on Victoria's bed with her legs crossed, on top of the covers, and she looked a lot more stable. She'd gotten changed out of Victoria's goofy bathrobe and was wearing a tank-top and jeans, which fit her a little oddly. Taylor kept anxiously fiddling with her wings, poking and prodding at them. Amy couldn't blame her; if she'd had wings, she'd probably fiddle around with them too.

Victoria sat down beside Taylor. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"A lot better, actually." Taylor smiled. Amy noticed that Taylor's smiles were always very small. Not like Carol's, where she was forcing them. No, with Taylor, it was more like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to smile. "These shields of yours are really nice," Taylor continued.

"I know, right? Who needs ibuprofen anymore?"

"Can you stand up, yet?" Amy asked.

"I'm not sure." Taylor slowly scooted over to the edge of the bed. Amy quickly walked over to stand close beside her, ready to catch her in case she fell.

Taylor carefully put her feet down on the ground. She took a deep breath, and then she tried to stand. For a few moments, she managed to support her own weight. Then her knees buckled, and she fell over. Amy caught her, and gently helped her back onto the bed.

Taylor sighed. "Nope. Getting closer, though, I think."

"That's good," Amy squeezed her hand. "Just stick with it. You will get better. It's just a matter of when."

Amy heard arguing from the hall, and turned in time to see Mouse Protector blocking the doorway with a large blackboard. She was waggling her finger at Carol, who was out in the hall.

"Sorry!" Mouse Protector told her. "Multi-triggers only, from this point onwards."

"I don't know who the hell you think you - !" Carol hissed.

"Carol!" Mark interrupted her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We asked her for her help. She's giving it."

"I just want to be informed about my daughter's condition!"

"Don't worry, you will be informed about your daughters' condition!" Mouse Protector said. "By your daughters. G'bye!" She shut the door in Carol's face.

Mouse Protector took a deep breath, held it, and let out a very frustrated sigh.

With that, she spun around, flashing a smile, and she began lugging the blackboard further into the room. She propped it up on Victoria's desk chair, and then wheeled it over to the foot of the bed.

"First thing's first," Mouse Protector pulled out a burlap sack. "I brought you all presents! Happy Trigger Day!"

"Thank you!" Victoria said. "So, um... what's with the sack?"

"It's not a sack," Mouse Protector said, with a twinkle in her eye, "it's a grab bag."

Victoria burst out laughing.

Amy and Taylor were confused.

"Looks like some of us have more ground to cover than others." Mouse Protector winked. "But don't you worry; I'm a teleporter! I'll get you all there quickly enough." She brought the bag around, and let each of them pick out a different gift-wrapped present.

"Thank you," said Taylor.

"Thanks," said Amy.

"You're awesome," said Victoria.

"You're welcome, you're welcome, and thank you for noticing!" Mouse Protector replied. "Right, then. Who here's done improv?"

Nobody there had.

"Well, there's always time to learn." Mouse Protector pulled out a piece of chalk and started writing on the blackboard. "And here's our first game!"

For a moment, Amy thought that she'd noticed the woman's smile flicker.

But Mouse Protector's mirth was back in full force when she turned around and gestured at what she had just written:

Kiss or Kill?

Last edited: Aug 8, 2018

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Idiom Alpha

Aug 8, 2018

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Threadmarks Victoria Illustration

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Idiom Alpha

Idiom Alpha

Confirmed Canon

Aug 9, 2018

#271

I drew Victoria!

Last edited: Aug 9, 2018

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Idiom Alpha

Idiom Alpha

Confirmed Canon

Aug 12, 2018

#324

Metaphorical Grapevine said:

Hey I drew a thingy...

Spoiler: Too lazy to finish it though! :p

Click to shrink...

(Gosh! This is the first art anyone else has done for one of my fanfics. I really appreciate it!)

Trillium Waltz

4. Adnate

Victoria

"Right, then!" Mouse Protector twirled the chalk in her hand. "This is a quick introduction game, to see how everyone feels about each other." She gestured at the three girls. "Can you all get into a circle on the bed, facing each other?"

Everyone did so, with a general air of curiosity.

"Okay, so!" Mouse Protector clapped her hands together. "The rules are pretty simple. You pair up, look at your partner, and then you say whether you'd rather kiss them, or - "

" - kill them?" Victoria guessed. "Uh, I'm pretty sure we'd all rather kiss each other than kill each other."

"Hm, you're right." Mouse Protector considered this. "Honestly, the full version of the game doesn't have 'kissing' as the first option. You're a little young for that one, though."

There were a lot of confused looks.

"Anyway!" Mouse Protector quickly continued. "We're going to have it be telling your partner whether you'd be okay having a lengthy smooching session with them, or whether you'd prefer to slap them very hard in the face. Be honest, now. Oh, and everyone has to promise that they won't judge anyone else for their choices. Does everyone agree?"

"Sure," Victoria said.

"Yeah," Taylor mumbled. "I wouldn't judge anyway."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with this," Amy said, frowning. "Do I have to?"

"You can sit out if you'd like," Mouse Protector answered. "But this is actually important. I'll explain why, a little later on."

Amy thought about it for a little while. "...I'll do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Amy said, in a strange tone of voice. "I was just - never mind. I'm fine."

"Okay, then! So, who wants to go first? Normally I would do it with someone as an example, but, um..." Mouse Protector laughed a little nervously. "How old are you all, again?"

"Fourteen," Taylor said. "Closer to thirteen than fifteen, though."

"Same," Amy added. "Fourteen."

"Just turned fifteen," Victoria said, with unnecessary pride. She liked being the oldest.

"Yeah, no. Me doing an example with this game is, uh..." Mouse Protector shrugged, her point made. "So, again, who wants to go first?"

Victoria, Taylor, and Amy gave each other odd looks, clearly anxious.

"I'll go," Victoria finally ventured. "I'm pretty confident about my sexuality. I have a boyfriend."

"Ah." It seemed like Mouse Protector's body language went a bit rigid, but maybe that was just in Victoria's head. "Well, alrighty! Go for it!"

Victoria turned to Taylor automatically, since she was of course the only option. "You okay with this?"

Taylor looked like a deer in headlights. After maybe ten seconds, she finally nodded, very very softly.

Mouse Protector gave them both a big thumbs-up. "I'll count down, and then you both say it at the same time."

Victoria had done a few things like this with friends, before. Sharing games, and the like. Victoria had been intimidated by the idea, back when a friend first introduced to the concept. It required letting yourself be vulnerable and putting your trust in the other person, which was, of course, the whole point. But it was difficult for anyone to let their walls down. Victoria had discovered that the best way to keep things light was to be honest and direct, which was a philosophy she followed in her day-to-day life.

And anyway, Victoria didn't want to make Taylor feel awkward. She already looked pretty tense, like she was bracing herself.

Wait, does she really expect me to say I'd rather hurt her? Victoria wondered, with a bit of sadness. Poor thing.

"3, 2, 1!" Mouse Protector counted down.

"Kiss." Victoria said.

"Kiss," Taylor squeaked. "...Wait, really?!"

Taylor seemed very surprised at Victoria's choice.

"Yes, really." Victoria met Taylor's eyes. "You're a pretty sweet person, Taylor." Victoria added, to help build up Taylor's confidence. "If I was into girls, I wouldn't have any problem making out with you."

"...Thanks?" Taylor hesitantly replied, with an uncertain little smile.

Victoria gestured at Amy. "Okay, you're up."

Amy still seemed a bit unsure, but she nodded. She looked at Taylor. "Give me a little time to think, okay?"

Taylor winced.

"Sure thing," Mouse Protector agreed.

Oh my god, Amy, seriously? Victoria was incredulous. You actually need to think about it?

Amy looked intently at Taylor for a minute or two.

"Ready," Amy said, softly.

"3, 2, 1!"

"Kiss," Amy said.

"Kiss." Taylor said. "...Huh?"

"Yeah." Amy murmured under her breath, seemingly speaking to herself. "I'm sure I would. I think I..." Amy trailed off.

"Gosh," Mouse Protecter gave Taylor a wink. "Aren't you popular?"

Taylor flushed.

"Looks like we're done," Victoria turned back to Mouse Protector. "What next?"

Mouse Protecter glanced between Amy and Victoria. "Well..."

Victoria and Amy stared at her. "You can't be serious," Victoria said, in a flat monotone.

"Not to be rude, but you're adopted siblings, yeah?"

"So?" Amy asked, annoyed.

"Then I think it might be necessary." Mouse Protector bit her lip. "Sorry. There's a reason, I promise."

Amy and Victoria turned to look at each other with bemused expressions.

This is ridiculous, Victoria thought, actually getting angry with Mouse Protector. What possible reason could there be for it?

"3, 2, 1."

"Slap," Amy said.

"Kiss," Victoria muttered, her mind still stuck on how stupid the whole thing was.

Everyone stared at Victoria.

Victoria was baffled at the sudden attention. "What is it?"

"...Seriously?" Amy asked, her eyes wide.

"Uh, yeah?" Victoria absently pulled a few loose strands of hair out of her face.

I mean, the answer was obvious, Victoria thought. I'd never make out with my...

It suddenly hit her.

"What did I...?" Victoria put her hand to her mouth.

Funnily enough, Amy looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Victoria couldn't blame her.

"Crap, Amy, I - I'm sorry," Victoria stammered, "I meant, I meant to say, you know, the other thing."

What is wrong with you, brain?! Victoria thought, angrily. How hard is it to differentiate between two words?

Amy looked like she was searching for something to say, but kept coming up short. She was very pale.

"We wouldn't judge you," Taylor told Victoria, politely. "We promised not to hold people's choices against them."

"Wha-?! No! It was just a slip of the tongue, I swear!" Victoria said, her voice raising slightly in pitch. "I was distracted!"

Amy took a deep breath, then let it out. "Okay. Okay," she repeated, looking away from Victoria.

"Ames?" Victoria asked, feeling terribly nervous. "Are we good?"

"We're good." Amy sighed. "God, that was just... It freaked me out a bit, is all."

Taylor was still looking at Victoria, with a strange curiosity in her expression.

Mouse Protector looked stricken, which was startling, considering her usual demeanor. Her gaze bounced worriedly between Amy and Victoria.

"I should have realized right away," Amy continued, with a shaky laugh. "I mean, duh, we're sisters. Of course it was a mistake."

Victoria began to notice an odd, unpleasant feeling in her stomach. She tried to use her forcefields to make it go away, but it didn't work. What the heck is going on with me? She wondered, anxiety building. Maybe I need more sleep, or food, or... something.

"Grab-bags!" Mouse Protector announced, loudly. "Let's talk about grab-bags!"

"Isn't it empty?" Taylor asked, looking over at the bag that once contained presents.

"Not that one," Mouse Protecter replied, with a smirk. "You're the grab-bags. So, let's figure out what bags you've grabbed!"

"My bag!" Taylor gasped. "Where's my bag?!"

"Okay, so, I'm not actually talking about bags - " Mouse Protector began.

"No, I mean my bag!" Taylor was unusually loud. She looked terrified. She looked to Victoria. "Where's my book-bag? Please tell me you have it!"

Victoria nodded, a bit startled by Taylor's sudden display of emotion. "We left it by the front door."

"Where's the front door?" Taylor asked, with obvious desperation. "Give me directions."

"Down the hall and off to the right," Victoria said. "But - "

Taylor impulsively tried to stand up. She started to fall. Victoria jumped towards her, caught her in the nick of time, and helped her back up onto the bed.

"I'll grab your bag." Amy offered. (Mouse Protecter applauded quietly.)

"Please," Taylor begged. "I... please."

"Sure," Amy said, with a smile. "I'll be right back."

On her way out of the room, Amy shared a confused look with Victoria.

As they waited, Victoria gazed at Taylor's face. She was lightly tugging at her wings while staring off into space, all while wearing an extremely anxious expression. Victoria wanted to help her relax, but didn't know the problem, and assumed Taylor would let her know if it was something serious.

Victoria got up and walked over next to Mouse Protector, who had apparently gotten bored, because she was drawing a picture on the blackboard. It depicted someone making a serious face while waving tiny cartoonish arms, with a little talk balloon saying "winners don't do trust".

"Wait," Victoria realized, peeking over Mouse Protector's shoulder. "Is that Mom?"

Mouse Protector froze. "Maaaaybe?" She glanced back at Victoria. "Depends on how you feel about it."

"Pretty accurate," Victoria admitted. "I like the way you did the arms. All noodly. You're a good artist."

"Why, thank you!" Mouse Protector flourished with the chalk. "I consider myself a renaissance mouse."

Victoria idly watched Mouse add little details to Blackboard Mom. "How do you know Mom, come to think of it?"

"Not well, and thank goodness for that! Uh, no offense." Mouse Protector whistled a jaunty little tune. "I'm just the independent go-to for this stuff. I help out other new multi-triggers whenever I can, since a lot of the 'official' information is kind of crap."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, we're pretty rare, for starters, and we have a lot of variations. The more I teach new clusters, the more I learn myself. It leaves me as one of the few people who actually understands what she's talking about, which is how you know things are bad." Mouse Protector put a hand to the side of her mouth, loudly 'whispering' so that Taylor could hear her, too. "After I impart to you my vast knowledge, you too will be part of that enlightened little club. Allow me to welcome you to the Free-For-All Screwball Protocol Cabal. I'll teach you the secret cluster handshake later. It involves a conga line."

"Conga line?" Amy asked, as she returned to the room.

"Yes, it's a term referring to complex multi-trigger linear dynamics," Mouse Protector said, with a lofty air. "Only a theoretical concept, quantified on a purely mathematical level. Rarely if ever observed in practice, and hardly worth discussing any further. Bah! Enough deviation, students. We must return to the properly assigned lesson, posthaste!"

"She's being silly," Victoria explained, as she hopped back on to the bed.

"I would never have guessed," Amy replied. She walked over to Taylor and handed her the bag. "Sorry, it's still a bit smelly. We were planning on washing it, but I guess Mark and Carol didn't get around to it."

Taylor yanked it away, paused to give Amy a quick "Thank you!" and then rifled around in her gross bag. She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes and gingerly holding a cylindrical object to her chest.

"Oh, hey, it's that flute," Amy observed.

"Huh?" Taylor glanced over at her.

"Uh... nothing." Amy coughed. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to Taylor.

"Right, then, onwards to knowledge!" Mouse Protector posed dramatically. In doing so, she stepped away from the blackboard, revealing her drawing of Mom.

Amy giggle-snorted. It was a very particular and very messy sound. She went into a fit of hysterical laughter, eventually falling off the edge of the bed and hitting the floor as a red-in-the-face pile of mirth. She finally stood up, wheezing: "I - I need to take a picture, oh my god," and ran off to find her phone.

She ended up having to take a bunch of pictures, since Mouse Protector kept photobombing her. Victoria began to understand that Mouse Protector's power was basically 'photobomb at will'.

Eventually, all four of them took a group photo on the bed, with smiles all around, and then Amy put her phone away. She looked happy.

"Alright," Mouse Protector teleported back to the blackboard just because she could, "so, let's talk powers. What have you got? List 'em out!"

Amy didn't look happy anymore.

Amy

Amy clenched her teeth.

"I'll go first!" Victoria said, excitedly.

Thanks, Vicky. Amy thought. I need time. Time to - to what? Figure out how not to have evil powers?

"Forcefields!" Victoria twirled fragments of her shield into a small replica of Mouse Protector.

"Cool!" Mouse Protector high-fived her hard-light copy. "What else?"

"...what else?" Victoria repeated, pulling the forcefield back onto herself. "Uh... just forcefields."

"Weird. You should have at least two more powers," Mouse Protector said, a bit confused. "That's how multi-triggers usually work. Each person usually gets a smaller version of their triggerpals' powers in addition to their own."

"My forcefields can do different things," Victoria offered, uncertainly. "They give me awareness of people's nervous systems, they can slowly heal my injuries, I can see things around them, and they block pain."

"One power with that many uses? That's bizarre." Mouse Protector idly tapped her foot and put her hand on her chin, thinking for a little while. "Maybe a bunch of powers working together, just looking like one? That happens, once in a while." Her breath caught, suddenly, as though she'd struck on something. "Hey, wait. Your forcefields block pain? For you, or for other people?

"Both."

"Have you completely removed your forcefield from your body, yet?"

"No. I usually keep at least some on me."

"Do you control how much pain it lessens? Or does it just get rid of it?"

"Gets rid of it. Why?"

"Have you felt any pain, since you triggered?"

"Um." Victoria hesitated. "I - I'm not sure. I must have, though."

Mouse Protector walked around the bed, leaned over, and flicked her finger into Victoria's forehead. "Could you feel that?"

Victoria looked startled. "I felt your finger, but it didn't hurt."

"You're wearing a cast on your arm, and I can see a scar on your shoulder. When you triggered, were you injured?" After a nod of confirmation from Victoria, Mouse Protector continued: "Uh oh. You might be in trouble."

"Why? I'm fine."

"Try removing all of the forcefield from yourself. Just for a second."

"Sure." She did so. "But I swear, it's f-" Victoria froze. Then she screamed. Her forcefields shot back onto her, and she hugged herself, looking close to crying.

"Crap. That's what I was afraid of." Mouse Protector grimaced.

"Hey," Taylor put a hand on Victoria's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"No. That hurt so much." Victoria wheezed. "If I haven't been feeling pain this whole time, then..." Victoria swallowed, looking ill. "I mean, I've been shot."

"Your bullet wounds," Amy realized, horrified. "I haven't checked in on them, since I healed you. You seemed like you were doing okay, so I didn't bother."

And also because I was too scared to use my power again, Amy silently added.

"After you healed me? Oh, god," Victoria started to breathe more quickly. "I'm so stupid. I thought my forcefield was doing it. I left it alone all night."

"Let me take a look," Amy said, quickly. She walked over to Victoria and put her hands on her injuries.

Amy closed her eyes and began to work. She felt out with her aura. It was easier, close up, but it was still so vague, like looking at a blurry photo. But there was another layer to it, Amy noticed. Rivers of neon light, zipping all along Victoria's body, with a heavy concentration around the brain. Amy felt like this layer was more in focus, simpler to understand. She could feel it in her mind, like tracing a texture with her fingertips.

"You're a healer?" Mouse Protector asked, surprised. "That's pretty dang rare."

"Please be quiet. I need to concentrate," Amy grunted. "Victoria, I think I might need to open up your wounds to see if they've healed right. Is that okay?"

"Uh... sure?" Victoria gulped. "I guess I can't feel it anyway."

"Thanks." With dedicated attention, Amy was able to cleanly pull apart the injury, and reach inside with her aura. Her understanding of Victoria's insides slowly expanded. Amy hadn't properly sealed up Victoria's flesh, the first time. She'd gotten an infection, and Amy wasn't sure if she could fix it. Foreign bacteria didn't seem to fit into Amy's power, coming across as something else, something alien. She wasn't sure how to control them.

Irritated, Amy tried to use what she could control, instead. She instinctively called to some of the light-trails swirling around Victoria's shoulder injury, focused them until they were extremely bright, and then used them to dispose of the contaminated flesh. It worked better than she'd expected: the bacteria were burned away, and none of the damaged flesh remained.

Victoria's breath caught, and her heartbeat raced. Amy could feel it. Victoria whispered in a very faint voice: "Amy, are you doing that?"

"Uh... yeah. What happened?" Amy opened one eye to peer up at Victoria's shoulder, and she gasped. Victoria's gunshot wound looked like a tiny thunderstorm, with electricity arcing out of it. Wait, was it electricity? It had the right shape, and it glowed brightly, but it hung frozen in the air.

"I can't move my arm," Victoria stared down at the motionless lightning, transfixed.

"Oh, sorry." Amy realized that she was still mentally holding the light, and she let it go. "There you go." It snapped back into Victoria's shoulder. Amy gently helped it resume its natural course, pushing it down through Victoria's arm in a series of light pulses.

The more Amy focused on the light, the more she connected with it. It was a bizarrely enjoyable sensation. Relaxing, in a way. Amy could almost feel herself flowing into it. Curious, she gently sent out a few more pulses inside her sister's fingers, glancing over to see what would happen.

Victoria's fingers moved on their own. Victoria lifted her hand up in front of her face, gaping at it.

Amy fired off a few more pulses, making Victoria point a finger-gun at herself. "Hey, Vicky," Amy snickered, "stick 'em up!"

"Amy!" Victoria glared at her. "Knock it off!"

"Okay, okay." Amy stopped manipulating Victoria's fingers.

Victoria flexed her fingers, agitated. "What the hell did you just do to me?"

"Nothing harmful, I think," Amy explained, as she carefully finished sealing up Victoria's shoulder wound. She put a lot more care into reattaching it, this time. The scarring was almost all gone, by the time she was done. "There's electricity in your body. I can expand it, focus it, make it do things. Make you do things, apparently."

"You can control electrical impulses?" Taylor asked, awed.

"I guess?" Amy moved on to Victoria's stomach wound, repeating what she'd done before. "Yeah, that's probably it."

"But that shouldn't work! The Manton Effect - and, and why are you acting so weird?!" Victoria demanded. "Are you fucked up in the head?"

Taylor gasped at Victoria's sharpness.

"Hm?" Amy smiled. She was very relaxed, honestly. "I feel fine."

"You shouldn't!" Victoria suddenly burst into tears. "Help! Make it stop!"

"What is it?" Amy asked.

"I don't know!" Victoria snapped. Then she put a hand to her forehead, shivering. "I think something's wrong with me. I don't know how to describe it. Something in my head - I'm feeling wrong."

"I'm done with your injuries, at least. So there's that." Amy stood back, letting her connection to Victoria's electricity slip away. Amy felt like a sudden strong wind had hit her in the face. Fear. Guilt. Anxiety. "Oh, crap, I - I'm sorry."

Victoria blinked. She wiped the tears off of her face. "It's okay, I'm... I don't know. Not so strange, anymore." She took a few breaths, steadying herself. "That was weird."

"I made you point at yourself," Amy mumbled, staring at her hands. "Reached in and controlled your arm. Didn't even think about it."

"You healed me. I yelled at you," Victoria countered. "The thing with my hand was funny, if sort of creepy. I was way ruder than I should have been. I swore at you. I'm sorry."

"Okay, so..." Mouse Protector cleared her throat. "I don't even know where to begin on your powers, Amy. Can you clue a mouse in?"

"I don't have much of an idea, either," Amy hesitated, but then she added: "They scare me. I think they might have come from my... from someone bad."

"Ah." Mouse Protector paused. "Well, if it helps, you didn't get them all from that mysterious baddie. Clusters have multiple powers because they share them."

"Really?"

"Really." Mouse Protector playfully ruffled Amy's hair. (Amy was annoyed by this, but didn't say anything.) "You might have gotten one or two powers from 'someone bad', but you got the others from Taylor and Victoria. And they seem pretty cool, don't you think?"

Amy felt a pressure vanish from inside her. She hadn't realized how much that had been weighing on her. "Yeah," she answered.

"Taylor, you've been sleeping most of the time since you got your powers, right?"

"Yes," Taylor said.

"Looks like we're done with the 'powers' bit, then. Bit short, huh? Sorry, I shouldn't have expected you all to have a firm grasp on your powers, after only one day. Just keep an eye on what you can do. Be aware that you should all have at least three powers each." Mouse Protector hopped up onto the bed. "Okay, now on to the weird stuff, starting with - !"

Victoria suddenly yelled, falling over.

Amy leaned down immediately. "Are you okay?!"

"Oh, shit." Victoria slowly sat up, shuddering. "No, I - I'm okay, I mean. I pulled off the forcefield, again, to see if you helped with the pain. It's better, but... still a lot." She gestured at her cast. "I forgot how much this hurts, and my shoulder and stomach ache really badly." She blinked back tears. "But I'm okay. I'm good."

Amy wondered whether she should try to help with the pain, but decided against it. She still felt nervous about using her power.

"Let me know if it gets too bad, and we'll take you to the hospital," Mouse Protector told Victoria. "Seriously. Don't be shy."

"She rarely is." Amy gave Victoria an encouraging smile.

"I'll tell you," Victoria agreed. "If it gets bad, I'll tell you. But I really am okay."

"If you're sure," Mouse Protector said. Then she bounced off of Victoria's bed, landing on her feet in a spectacular, wide-armed pose. "So! Weird stuff. There's a lot, so get comfortable."

Amy and Victoria got back up on the bed, sitting on both sides of Taylor. Victoria took the initiative to pull Amy and Taylor closer, forming a small cuddle-pile. It was warm, comfy, and nice. Amy laid her head on Taylor's shoulder.

For some reason, it was this moment that made Amy think: Maybe I'm not evil after all. Maybe I'm just Amy.

I think I can be alright with that.

Taylor

Taylor was being cuddled by two very nice girls. Is this something friends do? Taylor wondered. Emma and I never really cuddled, but I'm not sure she's really my friend anymore. Are they my friends?

She decided that they were, because that idea felt really nice. She wanted them to be her friends. To be close to her.

"So, I'm going to list off some cluster traits I've seen. It might be spooky, but don't worry, I've never seen more than two or three of these in one group. Speak up if one of the following applies to you: Seeing flashes from your triggerpals' memories. Seeing through your triggerpals' eyes. Personality bleed - "

"Personality bleed?"

"Yeah, that's when people start to shuffle around fragments of their personalities within the cluster. Some people get confident, others get shy. Some learn to enjoy each other's hobbies more, and their own less. Speech patterns get exchanged. Just a few examples."

"Wow." Amy made a weird face. "That's kind of freaky."

"Eh, it's usually pretty minor." Mouse Protector assured her. "I wouldn't worry about it too much."

I don't mind, Taylor decided. I think I'm okay with being more like Amy and Victoria... and a little less like myself.

"Alright, list continues: Finishing each other's sentences. Having moments of extreme vertigo, like you're in multiple places at once - "

"Yeah!" They all said at the same time.

"Fitting answer. Also, great!" Mouse Protector beamed. "That's generally a sign of a really tight-knit cluster. How many times has it happened?"

"Once," Victoria said. "When we triggered." Amy and Taylor confirmed her answer.

"Rad! It should only happen if one of you is having a really bad time, then." Mouse Protector gave them a thumbs-up. "Right, almost done, but let's go through the last few: Feeling your triggerpals' emotions. Feeling your triggerpals' physical sensations. Changes in appearance - "

"Yes! I grew holes in my arms!" Taylor yelped. "Also, I have wings."

"Not quite what I mean. That's more of a powers dealie. What I'm talking about would be stuff like your eyes changing color to match Victoria's, or Victoria getting Amy's freckles. Minor changes, similar to personality bleed. Also, rare as heck."

"Oh." Taylor glanced at Amy and Victoria. They were looking at her, and each other, too, searching for changes.

"Like I said: rare as heck. Last couple of weird bits: Getting spooked by your reflection, feeling like it isn't your own. Seeing each other's reflections instead of your own. Sharing dreams - "

Amy and Victoria tensed. Taylor wasn't sure why.

"Hmmm?" Mouse Protector squinted suspiciously at them. She pulled out a magnifying glass and peered through it at them from across the room. "Goodness gracious, could I be detecting some dream-based tomfoolery?"

Amy and Victoria exchanged a nervous look.

"Yeah," Amy admitted. "We've been having Taylor's dreams."

Taylor's breath hitched.

"Sorry, Taylor." Victoria said. "I wanted to tell you, but Amy - "

"Don't even," Amy shot Victoria a dirty look. "Hiding it was your dumb idea. But, yeah, Taylor. Sorry."

"M-my dreams?" Taylor stuttered, still trying to process that information. "You've been in my dreams?"

"Yeah." Victoria said. "We only really remember Flute Lady and the Amazing Redheaded Bitch, though."

"Good band name," Mouse Protector commented.

"It is," Amy agreed. "So, who are they, by the way?"

"My m-mom, and my - " Taylor stopped, taking a breath. "A girl named Emma."

The way she spoke must have been off somehow, because Amy and Victoria started looking very guilty.

"In any case!" Mouse Protector raised her voice slightly. "Dream-sharing is always different. Some have the same dream every night. Others change. I can't really give you much advice. Just talk to each other and be open about what you're feeling."

Taylor wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. It was so surreal.

"Okay, so," Mouse Protector took a long, deep breath. "We've covered a lot of the more obscure stuff. Now it's on to the big weird. And for this one, I'm going to use my cluster as an example." Mouse Protector gestured at the first words she'd written on the blackboard: Kiss or Kill?

"Are we going to play that game again?" Victoria groaned.

"Actually, Kiss or Kill is something different." Mouse Protector shrugged. "That game was just a quick way of making sure none of you wanted to murder each other."

The cuddle-pile tensed in unison.

"See, being part of a cluster connects you to the other people in it. Some people hate that. They try to get rid of the connection, but they can't. It can lead them to do... really bad things, trying to make it stop." Mouse Protector saw the girls' expressions, and she smiled. "But don't worry. There's a good side to it. If you like the connection, there's no limit. People in the same cluster can get really strong feelings for one another."

"You said you were using your cluster as an example," said Amy, faintly. "An example of what?"

"Hm. Let's say, hypothetically... both sides." Suddenly, Mouse Protector vanished, appearing in the cuddlepile. She'd pulled out her phone, and showed off a picture on it. It was a selfie of her and some unpleasant looking woman. Mouse Protector looked cheery, the other woman looked furious. "Look at her, isn't she adorable?" Mouse Protector cooed.

"She looks like she's trying to murder you." Amy said.

"Oh, she is. You would not believe how hard it was to get this pic. She causes horrible scars and death and stuff. Also she hates me. But I think she's just great!" Mouse Protector showed off a couple more pictures of her. "Here she is trying to kidnap the mayor, and here's one where she's setting fire to an orphanage, and here's - oops, ha ha, that one's a little gory. Don't tell your folks, 'kay?"

"She seems to, uh..." Taylor paused, trying to phrase it in a delicate way. "She seems to have some interesting morals."

"Oh, pish posh. I always win in the end, and I joke around with her the whole time. After I stop her, I say: 'Ravager, darling, we must stop meeting like this. Do you want to go out to dinner?' and she tells me: 'I hate you!' and I say: 'Hey, come on, don't be like that.' and she goes off again on one of her little tantrums, yelling about how I humiliate her and ruin her life, blah blah blah, and I just say 'Sorry, I was lost in your eyes. Ravager, more like Ravishing! Kiss me, you fool!' and then she's all 'argh blargh kill your whole family' but I know she doesn't mean it." Mouse Protector held her phone to her chest, sighing wistfully. "I'm going to marry that girl, someday."

Victoria gaped at her. "Really?"

"In this purely hypothetical situation, yes!" Mouse Protector winked. "Ravager hates her connection to me. She wants nothing to do with me. She hates me. Meanwhile, I have no problem with my connection to her. She's fun to joke around with. She's cute. I love her. Kiss. Kill. Think of it like magnets: Attracting, pushing away, or being really weird. You get all sorts of combinations."

"Attracting? Love? Kiss?" Taylor blinked. "The words you're using... is it always, um, romantic?"

"It tends to be. But not always. Some are attracted to each other more strongly than others."

"Well, I guess we're the 'not always', huh?" Victoria smiled. "Since I don't want to kill Taylor or Amy, but obviously I'm not going to be falling in love with them. I mean, I'm straight."

Mouse Protector was silent, for few seconds. When she answered, her voice was quiet. "That doesn't always matter."

"What? How can it not matter?"

"It just doesn't, for some people. I've seen it happen." Mouse Protector spoke slowly, and carefully. "You all might need to reconsider how you're feeling about each other. How you're feeling, period."

Victoria stared at Taylor. She froze.

Then she leapt out of the cuddle-pile like she'd been stung, stumbling back off of the bed.

She was still staring. But now she was staring at Amy.

Amy looked confused. Then something clicked.

"In that game, earlier," Amy croaked, going pale. "Oh, Vicky."

Victoria's hands shot to her mouth. She looked ill. "No." She started backing away, her voice muffled behind her fingers. "No no no. That's not it. No."

"Listen," Mouse Protector started, her voice comforting.

Victoria backed into the door. With a strangled sob, she opened it, and ran out of the room.

Last edited: Aug 16, 2018

847

Idiom Alpha

Aug 12, 2018

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Threadmarks Taylor Illustration

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Idiom Alpha

Idiom Alpha

Confirmed Canon

Aug 13, 2018

#420

I drew Taylor!

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Threadmarks 5. Gynoecium

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Idiom Alpha

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Confirmed Canon

Aug 16, 2018

#519

Trillium Waltz

5. Gynoecium

Amy

"Victoria." Amy knocked on the bathroom door.

Quiet sniffling emanated from within.

"Vicky." Amy knocked again. "It's been over an hour. Everyone's really worried about you. I'm worried about you."

More sniffling.

"You can't hide in the bathroom forever. This isn't going away. We have to figure this out."

Victoria moaned pitifully.

"I reacted badly, back in your room," said Amy. "I'm sorry. But it's okay, really. It's weird, but it's okay."

"Okay?!" Victoria laughed in a miserable, hiccupy way. "You have no idea what it's like to see your sister and think 'hot', Ames! It's not okay!"

"It's true, I don't know what that's like," Amy agreed. "But it doesn't bother me. Seriously. It freaked me out, but that was just the shock of it."

"I'm really scared that I'll kiss you or something." Victoria whimpered. "I don't want to kiss you, Amy!"

"So don't kiss me."

"No, but it's not like I want to, you know?" Victoria sputtered. "I don't want to kiss you, Ames. You know that, right?"

"Then don't kiss me!" Amy snapped, exasperated. "Victoria, would you relax? It's okay."

Victoria was silent for a while. Then, quietly, she asked: "Is Mouse Protector still out there?"

"No. She's arguing with Carol, now, out in the living room. Mark's trying to calm them down."

"So it's just you?"

"Right now? Yeah. It's just me."

"I'm scared to look at you again, now that I know. It feels weird." Victoria was crying again. "I feel really lost and I don't know what to do with these feelings and it's all - " it sounded like Victoria blew her nose, and the end of that sentence must have been in her nostrils, because it vanished forever. "I'm not sure who I am anymore. I feel like I'm an alien, or everything else is an alien, or there's an alien in my head, or... oh, god, that doesn't make any sense, does it? I'm freaking out, Ames! I'm totally freaking out!"

Amy knew what she had to do. Well, she thought she did. Honestly, it could have made things way worse.

Besides, she also knew how not ready she was to do it.

And yet, it felt like the right moment. She couldn't shake that feeling.

"Victoria, I need to tell you something." Amy began, quietly.

"Huh?" Another sniffle.

"I think I'm - I mean, I'm pretty sure..." Amy stammered, trying to find a good way to say it. "I guess quite possibly les - less bean. Less beans."

Amy felt extremely not smart in that moment.

"What did you say?"

"Luh-lesbian," Amy stuttered. "Gay. Me. Girls."

Amy wondered if supernaturally-enhanced stupidity was a thing. It was definitely on her list of powers, and it seemed like it was growing exponentially stronger over time. She was going to end up being the Nilbog of awkward silences, a Class S threat at parties. Even more than she already was.

But the door opened, just a crack, and Victoria's tear-soaked face peeked out. "Really?"

Amy nodded, trembling a little bit.

Victoria opened the door as if to leave. Instead, Amy went into the bathroom, too, closing the door after her.

"You're gay?" Victoria asked.

"Mm." Amy nodded again. She stared at the floor.

please don't hate me please don't hate me please don't hate me

"Wow." Victoria sounded intrigued. "That's cool."

yes yes yes good

"Yeah?" Amy looked up, hopeful.

"Yeah!"

"Thanks." Amy let out a sigh of relief.

"Are you sure it's not just," Victoria waggled her arms around, gesturing vaguely between the two of them, "uh, you know?"

"Pretty sure." Amy shot Victoria a little half-smile. "It sort of clarified stuff for me, though. I had a lot of little thoughts, before, But I couldn't piece them together. Then I started having lots of hugs and cuddle-piles and stuff. I'm certain, now. I mean... mostly? Mostly."

"Th-that's great, Ames. Really, great!" Victoria nodded energetically, as she began to blush. She shut her eyes, holding her head in her hands. "Stop it, brain. Stop."

Oh right, Amy remembered. My sister thinks I'm hot.

On every level, Amy had no map for how to navigate this situation. She went with the first thing that popped into her head.

"So, uh, what's attractive about me?" Amy asked, nervously. "Is it, like, my..." Amy wondered what her best feature was. She failed to find one. "...my personality?" she finished, lamely.

"Shut up, Amy," Victoria whined. "This isn't funny."

"I'm not joking. I don't think anyone's ever been, um, interested in me before. I'm curious, what about me do you find - ?"

"La la la la!" Victoria sang loudly, covering her ears and shutting her eyelids so tightly that it wrinkled her face. "No, no, no! That's a nope!"

After an hour of talking to a crying door, Amy was sick of being shut out. She was annoyed, and she wanted to see if she could help her sister calm down. So she reached out with her aura, and she connected to the waves of light thrumming along Victoria's body. Amy could feel herself start to flow into her again, and she slowed it down, trying to get a better understanding of what was happening.

From what Amy could tell, her own body's electricity was forming an odd circuit with Victoria's, linking them together on an intuitive level. This invisible circuit affected nothing on its own, but it was made out of the impulses determining emotions, sensations, reactions, and physical movement. Amy could control those pulses with a whim, determining which body they affected, and which signals went where.

Amy found the pulse she'd accidentally tapped into the first time around, and she inverted it.

Panic. Confusion. Anxiety. Like a brick to the face.

"Bwuh!" Victoria blinked, shivering. She looked calm, but startled. "Um. What did you just - ?"

"Power - I - oh, god," Amy wept, suddenly overcome.

"You used your power?" Victoria tilted her head, seemingly unconcerned. "Are you controlling me?"

"Aaaaah!" Amy felt terror overwhelm her. "No! Wrong way 'round. I flipped it."

"I'm controlling you?"

"I - I, um, I don't think so. Just f-feelings. Bad feelings. I have yours."

"I guess that explains it," Victoria said, smiling. "I feel amazing right now."

"That's great," Amy sniffled. "Great, I - that's what I was hoping for, but... this is not fun. Um."

"Your eyes." Victoria whispered, softly tracing her finger along Amy's eyelid in a subtle way. "You asked me what about you I found... you know. I like your eyes. Always thought they were pretty. Now they're beautiful."

Abject embarrassment hit Amy so hard that she actually fell over. "Oh shit, stop feeling things for one second please," Amy pleaded in an overly fast, high-pitched little voice. She was on the floor, quivering. "Too much. Can't think. Nngh."

"Maybe you should stop doing whatever it is you're doing," Victoria said, gently kneeling down and helping Amy sit up. "You look like you're in pain."

"It'll be bad," Amy coughed. "Brace yourself."

"Okay."

Amy severed the connection, returning their electrical impulses to normal.

Victoria gasped, falling to the floor. Her forcefield absorbed the impact, causing her to bounce slightly but otherwise be fine. She sat up next to Amy, giving her a sour look. "I didn't ask you to do that in the first place, you know!"

"I know." Amy righted herself into a more stable sitting position, crossing her legs. "You were a mess. Felt like you could use a break for a little bit."

"What if something had gone wrong?"

"Eh." Amy shrugged.

"Amy," Victoria glowered at her. "That was stupid."

"You're calling me stupid?" Amy folded her arms, resting her back against the side of the bathtub. "You hid in the bathroom for an hour! You're stupid."

"I only did it because of you, you idiot!"

"It's not my fault that you think I've got sexy eyes."

Victoria gasped, going pink. "You - you are being such a bitch!"

"Apparently, that's your type."

They sat stiffly beside each other on the bathroom floor, fuming in unison.

"Feel better?" Amy asked.

"No!"

"See, this is why it doesn't matter whether you're attracted to me or not." Amy scooted over, gripping Victoria's hand in her own. "Because I'm still me, and you're still you. You're a total brat, and I love you, but not like that. And me? I'm as lovable as cancer. Nothing's going to happen between us."

"Mmhm." Victoria bit her lip. She was staring away from Amy, focusing very intently on nothing in particular.

"I know I'm not really the best person to talk to about this stuff," Amy sighed. "How about Dean? Have you called him?"

"Nuh-uh." Victoria mumbled.

"Why not?"

"I'unno." Victoria's face was getting redder and redder.

"Why are you being so - ?" Amy paused, feeling Victoria's palm getting sweaty in her grip. "Wait. No. You can't be this affected by holding my hand."

Victoria just hummed squeakily, like a fan with a failing motor. She steadfastly refused to meet Amy's eyes.

"For real?" Amy blinked. "No way. Are you serious? Wow."

"Don't make fun of me." Victoria pulled her legs in, shrinking a little. "Can't help it. I'm all weird now."

"You're not weird."

"Yes, I am."

"Okay, you're weird," Amy admitted. "But you've been weird forever, so - "

"Ha ha," Victoria muttered.

They were silent for a minute or two, sitting against the bathtub, still holding hands.

Amy closed her eyes, wondering what it would be like to be attracted to Victoria. It wasn't hard. She was pretty, in a general sense. Outgoing, geeky. Total sweetheart. If she was some other girl, one that Amy had never known, then maybe she'd be into her. Amy even felt the signal in the back of her own mind, the little 'well now aren't you nice' response. It was there, if she searched for it.

But this was Victoria. Her sister. Her only real family in the world. Nothing was more important than that.

"Is this going to ruin us, Ames?" Victoria said, startling Amy out of her thoughts. "I don't want to lose you."

"Our brains are literally connected by superpowers, Vicky." Amy laughed quietly. "I doubt we'll be the same, but we definitely won't be distant."

Victoria gave her a shaky smile. She had a few more teardrops running down her cheeks. "I was really scared."

"Idiot," Amy sighed, reaching over and wiping the tears away with her thumb. "We're going to be fine. Obviously."

She kept drying Victoria's tears until the tears stopped coming.

"Do you have anyone you like?" Victoria asked, shifting around a bit.

"No, I'm a sociopath."

"You know what I mean." Victoria rolled her eyes. "You like girls. What girls?"

"Gossiping already, huh?" Amy clicked her tongue. "Why so interested?"

"I just want to know what type of lady my sister is into." Victoria grinned.

"Ew, why?"

"Curious, duh. I didn't even know you were gay until around ten minutes ago."

"And now you want to know all about my love life."

"What love life?"

"Ow." Amy winced.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Amy frowned.

"Okay, now tell me who you'd like to be with."

Amy thought about it for a little while. Then she answered: "Taylor's kind of cute. I could see myself kissing her."

"Yeah," Victoria agreed, with a dreamy expression on her face. Then she shuddered. "Whoa, okay, this is - ha ha, hoo..." She breathed in and out, steadying herself. "Just something for me to get used to. Okay!" She clapped her hands together. "Cute! Cute. We can work with cute. What's cute about her?"

"Her sexy eyes, of course." Amy waggled her eyebrows up and down, for emphasis.

"Screw you." Victoria pinched Amy's elbow, hard. Amy rubbed the sore spot, snickering. Victoria just looked more annoyed. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Never ever," Amy confirmed. "Anyway, I don't know. Taylor's nice, but she's all gangly. I think I like, um... strong ladies?"

Victoria cackled.

"Shut up," Amy grumbled, her cheeks feeling hot.

"Sorry. It's just funny to hear my sister talking about her love of strong women." Victoria smirked.

"You asked, jerk!"

"Yeah, yeah," Victoria waved it away. "So. Strong women. What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just... strong. Like, um, Alexandria?" Amy tried to explain. "Haven't you ever fantasized about being picked up and flown around by someone who was powerful and - ?"

"Oh my god, Ames!" Victoria burst out laughing again. "You have a crush on Alexandria?!"

"What?! No! Shut up!"

Victoria

Victoria wasn't attracted to girls. She reminded herself of this fact several times a minute.

Not attracted to girls.

Amy had taken her hand, again. She'd been holding it for a long time, and it was nice. Victoria really needed that connection, that support. But, at the same time, it made it harder to think clearly, because there was a reaction inside her, and she - No!

Not attracted to girls!

Amy kept shooting her these sympathetic little smiles. She knows. Victoria shivered. She felt so trapped, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't. This wasn't who she was, but now it was, and it always would be. She couldn't get rid of it. It was a part of her now, whether she liked it or not.

Attracted to girls. Two of them.

Victoria's lip trembled. Tears slipped into her eyes again.

"Hey," Amy whispered. "You're okay."

"Nn," Victoria failed to form a word. Her mind was as clenched as her teeth, as she tried to force the strange thoughts away, to hold on to what she could define as who she used to be, how she used to think. It felt impossible. Like trying to reverse a waterfall.

Amy gently squeezed her hand.

Amy was different, too; the changes were subtle, but they were there. Victoria wondered if Amy had even noticed. There was a new directness in her, a certainty, where before there'd been anxiety. This Amy had confidence, even if she had no idea what to do with it. It lent her an odd atmosphere.

"Does Mom know, yet?" Victoria asked. "Did you tell her that I - about what's going on with me?"

"You're kidding, right?" Amy chuckled. "How would that even go? 'Hey, Carol, guess what? Powers made Vicky gay. She's gay for me now. Also, I'm gay.' Smash-cut to my execution."

How can you be so blasé about this? Victoria wondered. Well, it's easier, anyway. At least one of us isn't freaking out.

It made it easier to pretend everything was normal, even as it was falling apart.

"Should we tell her?"

"Probably," Amy said, "but I don't want to."

"Me neither."

They walked out of the bathroom together, then stood in the hallway for a few moments, aimless.

Sounds of arguing echoed from the living room.

"Let's hang out with Taylor," Amy suggested.

"Mmkay."

They made their way down the hall, and into Victoria's room. It felt like more of a common area, at the moment. Not really her space. Struck by a paranoia, she shut and locked the door.

"Victoria!" Taylor cried out, limply moving over the surface of the bed. She couldn't stand up, but she could scoot over to the edge facing the door.

"Taylor!" Victoria mimicked her, trying for what she hoped was a goofy grin.

Taylor paused, looking confused.

Shit.

"Sorry, I'm still a bit, aaaa," Victoria wiggled her fingers around her head, unsure what she was trying to say. "Just... dealing."

"That's okay." Taylor looked up at her with wide, adorable eyes. "I - I bet it's really confusing. To be feeling that way about, um."

"Yeah, um." Victoria replied.

The silence was so awkward. Victoria wasn't used to this. Most times, she was the ice-breaker.

"Gay!" Amy blurted out. "I'm - lesbian. Gay. Ladies. Like 'em. Er, just a little bit ago. That I realized. Mm."

Thank you for being you, Amy.

"Awesome," Taylor breathed. Her unrestrained wonderment was a thing to behold. "I mean! I mean, th-thank you for trusting me. I'm honored."

Amy beamed at her. Now there was a proper goofy grin.

I have got to hook these two up, Victoria decided immediately. For my own sanity, if nothing else. She pictured them on a date. She felt an awful pang of jealousy, and she wasn't even sure which one of them it was directed towards. Damn it, never mind. I hate you, brain!

Then she realized she was getting way ahead of herself. Clearing her throat, she asked: "Taylor, are you - ?"

Out of nowhere, someone threw their arms around Victoria, giving her a big ol' hug.

Victoria almost screamed.

"Whoa!" Mouse Protector covered Victoria's mouth just in time. "Sorry. Didn't mean to spook you. Your parents were being kind of a pain, so I figured I'd zip back to you, and check in. How are you doing, girl?"

"Mmmf."

"Oh, whoops." Mouse Protector pulled her hand away. "Okay, now answer."

"Really confused," Victoria grumbled, wriggling out of Mouse Protector's arms. "About - about things."

"I hear you," Mouse Protector nodded. "Things confuse me, too. Would you like to talk about it? Actually, everyone huddle up!" She rapidly organized everyone into a little sitting circle on top of Victoria's bed. "Alright, let's talk about our feelings!"

"Kill me," Victoria moaned.

"Not exactly the type of feelings I meant, but it's a good start!"

"I have discovered that I - I like - ladies." Amy had clearly been trying for a bold declaration, but her voice had turned into an embarrassed squeak about halfway through. Her new confidence clearly wasn't infinite.

"Congratulations!" Mouse Protector gave Amy a high-five.

Amy fidgeted, going a bit pink. She was smiling, though.

She's so cute, Victoria mused, silently gazing at her.

"Vicky," Amy said, politely. "Eyes."

"Ah! Sorry," Victoria whimpered, forcing herself to stare at the ceiling. "I can't deal with this. I'm going to go crazy."

"Go crazy, then!" Mouse Protector laughed. "It's all the rage."

"Vicky, stop looking at the ceiling. You're being ridiculous." Amy sighed. "Are you going to do that every time we're in the same room?"

"Maybe I will!" Okay, it wasn't the best comeback. But it's the thought that counts. So it didn't count for much.

"Fine. I can work with that."

Victoria felt that strange staticky feeling in her head, again. There was a bizarre sense of vertigo, and then she was suddenly looking at herself, who was looking up at the ceiling.

"What the - ?!" Victoria yelped. So did the Victoria she was looking at. She moved, and her reflection moved with her. She couldn't move the body that she was looking out of, just the one across from her. "What is this? What did you just do?"

"Swapped our eyes around." Amy explained. "Well, technically the signals from our optic nerves. Can you look down, by the way? This is a weird angle."

Victoria awkwardly tilted her head down, finding it a little tricky to maneuver without her own eyes to rely on. "This is freaking me out." She had to move while seeing herself from the outside. Like it was a puppet, but one she could feel from the inside. Eventually she managed to do it, meeting her own eyes.

"Oh, wow. Hi, me," Amy said, a touch of anxiety slipping into her voice. "That is pretty unsettling, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Victoria snapped. "Amy, put me back in my own eyes, or I swear - !"

Amy sternly shook her head, and Victoria's vision jerked from side to side.

"Stop! Don't do that!" Victoria moaned. "Oh, crap, I'm going to barf."

Out of the corner of her - of Amy's? - eye, Victoria could see Taylor's confused gaze shifting between the two of them.

"You're looking out of each other's eyes?" Mouse Protector sounded intrigued. "That's a fun one."

"No, it isn't." Victoria frowned. "I can't even turn to look at you."

"I can fix it," Amy offered.

"Please." Victoria crossed her arms, waiting.

"Done," Amy said. "I fixed it."

"Um." Victoria began to panic. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't."

"Try looking around."

Victoria tried to look around the room, and she was able to do it. Her neck and head moved when she told them to move. Except they were Amy's neck and head. "This is not what I meant, and you know it!"

"You have to admit, though, it's distracted you from my hotness," Amy chortled. "One problem solved."

Victoria pointedly looked down.

"Or not," Amy sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

There was another flash of electric vertigo, and Victoria was yanked back to her own perspective. "Thank you," Victoria grumbled, rubbing her eyes, "but if you keep using your power on me without asking, we're going to have a problem. Seriously. Don't do it again."

Amy hummed, tapping her own cheek thoughtfully.

"Amy."

"Sure, sure." At least she had the decency to look guilty, this time. "Sorry. It's just - it's fun to see what it can do, you know?"

"Oh, I know." Victoria wove some of her forcefield into a foot-tall replica of Amy, then had it walk over and waggle its finger at the original. "But I'm a human being, remember? Victoria. Your sister. You can't just play around with my mind."

"Okay," Amy agreed, meekly. She seemed more like her normal self, in that moment. "I'm sorry."

Since when was I the one telling Amy to show restraint? Victoria wondered. This is surreal.

"That was a good bit, there at the end!" Mouse Protector smiled. "Communication like that is really important. You should all be honest with each other, as much as you can. Especially with a cluster like yours, since it's going to be really difficult for the first month or so."

"What do you mean, a cluster like ours?" Taylor asked.

"From what I've seen, you're extremely tight-knit, emotionally invested in each other, and mentally connected on more than one level. That can either end in good times, or in very bad times. Or in eating."

"Eating?"

"Don't ask." Mouse Protector cleared her throat. "In any case, you'll probably have to get used to being very involved in each other's personal lives, whether you want to be or not. There's not much you can do about that. Just remember that you're all on the same side, and put your trust in each other."

Victoria winced. "When you say 'personal lives' - "

There was a sudden, savage knocking at the door. Everyone jumped.

"Let me in!" Mom yelled, with unchecked ferocity. "I know you're in there!"

"Uh oh." Mouse Protector bit her lip. "I... may have left her a little mad. We had a kerfuffle. Just a warning."

"I'm giving you ten seconds, and then I will break this door down!" Mom shouted.

"A kerfuffle," Victoria repeated. "What did you say to her?"

"Well..." Mouse Protector began, slowly.

Then an axe made of light tore through the doorknob, and Carol threw the door open. "You," she snarled at Mouse Protector, "are an absolute - !"

"That's my cue to leave, I think!" Mouse Protector interrupted. She grabbed an eraser from Victoria's desk, and gave a quick wave to the girls on the bed. "It was wonderful to meet you all. Don't forget to open your presents!" With a wink, she ran to the window, opened it just a crack, and tossed the eraser outside, shutting the window afterwards.

"Get back here!" Carol yelled, running forward to grab her.

But Mouse Protector was already gone. She reappeared out on the street, mischievously twirling the eraser between her fingers. She threw it into the open window of a random car driving by, and, with a final salute, she vanished.

"I guess that means she's giving us the blackboard," Amy murmured.

"And her burlap sack," Victoria added.

"And her phone?" Taylor asked, holding up a distinctively mouse-eared cell phone.

"You stole her phone?!" Victoria gaped at her.

"Stole? What?! No!" Taylor protested. "She left it for me to play games on, since I was alone in here. I feel bad about borrowing it, now."

"I'll get her things back to her," Mark assured them, as he followed Carol into the room.

"I should never have let that woman into this house," Carol fumed, still staring out the window. "Never again, you hear me? Never!"

"Carol, calm down," Mark said, clearly fighting back his amusement. "Please."

"Calm down? Calm down?!"

"Yes," Mark replied, simply.

Carol took a few deep breaths, and then she did calm down, though she still had an unpleasant expression on her face. She turned to Taylor. "Your father is coming to visit you in about an hour."

Complete silence filled the room.

"What?!" Taylor yelped. "I thought you said - you told me you'd take care of it!"

"Fortunately for you, your father actually cares about you. He wouldn't accept any excuses. As soon as I explained that you had stayed the night here, he demanded to see you." Carol sighed. "I couldn't convince him otherwise. He was halfway to threatening me."

Wow, Victoria thought. Taylor's dad sounds terrifying.

"And, honestly, I don't think I'm comfortable having you stay here any longer," Carol crossed her arms, giving Taylor her sourest of sour looks. "I would like you to go home with him, when he leaves."

Taylor looked terrified.

"Carol, please," Victoria started.

"That's bullshit, Mom!" Amy snapped, at the exact same time.

They froze. Almost mechanically, they turned their heads to stare at each other, their eyes wide.

All of the color drained out of Carol's - no, Mom's - face. She took a step back, shuddering.

Amy regained her composure first, hopping off of the bed, standing up in front of Mom, and staring her down. "I already told you that Taylor isn't safe to move. She needs time to recover. She can't even walk yet."

"She's going home," Carol breathed, disquieted. She was obviously trying and failing to process what was happening. "And that's final."

"Is it?" Amy asked, her voice quiet.

"I..." Mom took another step back.

"Why should your discomfort matter, anyway? Do you think you belong here?" Amy continued, stepping forwards aggressively. "You should be grateful for what you have. You deserve a lot less."

"Amy!" Mark raised his voice, though he was clearly just as unnerved as everyone else. "She works two jobs for this family. Dial it down, now. She doesn't deserve all this hostility."

"Oh, I'm sure," Amy grimaced, crossing her arms. "Trust me, she does deserve it. Because it's hers."

Mom tried to speak, but a confused mumble was all that escaped her.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Amy gave her a very sour look. "Having a little trouble empathizing?"

Victoria came to her senses. "Amy, stop."

"Stop what?" Amy asked, innocently.

"You know what!"

Amy glanced at her, then shrugged. "Fine." A second later, she gasped, and all of her aggression vanished in an instant.

"You just did something to me," Mom said, a vague comprehension dawning.

"I..." Amy was shaking. "I'm sorry!"

"What's your power, Amy?" Mom asked, her tone dangerous. "Tell me." She took a step towards her. "Tell me!"

Amy cringed. She turned and ran out into the hallway, a panicked mess. The slamming of a door could be heard. The door to her room, no doubt.

An eerie quiet settled. Mom put a hand to her head, dazed. Then she turned to Victoria.

"What's her power?!" She demanded.

"I..." Victoria trailed off. "Not my place to say," she muttered, finally.

Carol was still shaken. She stumbled out of the room.

"I don't mind going home," Taylor whispered. "I'm sorry. I - I didn't mean to start an argument."

"It's not your fault," Victoria said, uncertainly. She stood up, grabbing her phone off the dresser. "I'll be right back. I need a minute."

"Okay."

Victoria went outside, and she called the first number in her 'recent calls' list.

"Hello?" His voice answered.

Victoria went over her thoughts, trying to force out all the ones she didn't register as hers.

Like trying to reverse a waterfall.

"Victoria? Did you butt-dial me?"

"Hi," Victoria whispered, anxiously. "Hi, Dean. Hi."

"Hey," he said, and she could hear the concern in his voice already. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Victoria said. "I triggered."

"Oh. Uh... congratulations, I suppose." Dean seemed hesitant. "No, wait, that's the wrong response, isn't it? You triggered. What happened? Are you - ?"

"It doesn't matter right now," Victoria cut him off, quickly. "I'd like to meet up. Right away."

"I'm a little busy with work at the moment. I might be able to steal some personal time, though. Give me a few."

"Great! Great. But can we talk normally, just for a minute or two? I really want - I need to know that I'm me, okay?"

"...Sure," Dean agreed, slowly. "So, how are you?"

"Oh, um, I don't know." She replied, closing her eyes. "I'm surviving, for lack of a better word."

Taylor

Taylor wondered whether she was gay. Whether she was gay before all this.

She'd never really thought about it. With everything that had been happening in her life, there was no time for it. No space for consideration. She'd had a mild interest in boys, if only in a hypothetical sort of way.

But now, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she felt different about Amy and Victoria. There was something real, there. Something she could feel. A tangible sensation.

She looked down at her arms, covered in hollow growths, and she wondered if her power had altered her mind as much as her body. Had it changed her sexuality? Did it even matter, if she hadn't known it anyway?

It's not like it changes much, Taylor decided. Boys, girls, whatever. I'll figure it out.

She watched the minutes tick by on Mouse Protector's phone. They seemed to be going too quickly. She thought she might be able to slow them down by watching them, but she hadn't had any luck.

Only half an hour left. She still had no idea what she was going to say to Dad.

And the cell phone kept making her think of Mom.

"Taylor?"

Taylor turned, surprised to see Amy's head peeking into the room. "Hey, Amy. You okay?"

Amy came further into the room. She had a backpack, filled to bursting. She was wearing a full outfit, with her shoes on. Amy's eyes and nose were red, and it was very obvious that she had been crying.

"Can I - no." Amy cut herself off. "Sorry, I'm being stupid. I don't want to impose."

"No, no, please impose," Taylor insisted. "Honestly, considering what you and your family have done for me - " She paused. Amy had winced at the words 'your family'.

"I - I think I might need a place to stay." Amy mumbled. "Nobody's said anything, yet. But I'm scared."

"They wouldn't just throw you out, would they?" Taylor asked, worried.

"I don't know. But... I don't want to be here. It's suffocating." She swallowed nothing. "I don't know what I'm doing. I promise I won't - I won't gay at you. I just need to spend the night somewhere else."

"You can gay at me if you want," Taylor said, politely. She wasn't entirely sure what Amy meant by that, but she wanted to support her.

"Wait, really?" Amy's face started to go red.

"Okay maybe not that gay," Taylor quickly amended. "Not that it's wrong to be gay! I mean, I - I might even be a lesbian, now. But I'm not ready to, um, do anything yet. Maybe I will be, eventually. But not all at once, and definitely not right now."

"I know," Amy nodded. "Really. I'm not trying to - oh, god. I am imposing, aren't I?"

"No! No." Taylor smiled. "I think I could use some company. Someone who understands. I'm feeling pretty lost."

"Yeah," Amy sighed, sitting down next to her. "I feel you."

'I feel you'. Taylor wondered if that could be taken as literal, at this point. Mouse Protector had said they were connected on a mental level. Were they outright sharing emotions? Or was it just a normal reaction to the situation? It didn't change anything, ultimately.

"I think Victoria loves you," Taylor said. "Beyond, uh, you know. I mean, as a sister. I can tell she cares."

"Yeah, but... it's all fucked up, now. She's second-guessing everything she does, everything she says." Amy stared at the floor. "I keep trying to tell her that it doesn't matter to me, that she's still my sister and nothing will ever change that. But she's struggling, and I don't know how to help her. I want to reach out, but I feel like I'm just making it worse. And I'm scared this will push me away from Carol and Mark, and it's already been really tense ever since they told me about my - " She stopped. "Sorry. I'm rambling."

"That's fine," Taylor put a comforting hand on Amy's shoulder. "Sometimes that's what it takes to figure things out. I know."

"Do you have any siblings?" Amy asked.

"Only child. My parents..." Taylor's mind went to Mom, and she felt the old emotions rising up again, so she didn't trust herself to say anything else.

She sat next to Amy on the bed for a bit. They sorted through their individual thoughts together, neither saying a word. They didn't need to talk, really. It was just comforting to have someone there, like those days she used to spend with Emma, back before their friendship went bad. Before Taylor messed it up, somehow, and her life became such a mess.

But then, her problems felt pretty small in comparison to Amy's.

Taylor subtly positioned her red-lights in an array behind Amy, forming letters, then floated the completed 'sculpture' over and positioned them in front of Amy's face.

Amy looked up, surprised. It took her a moment to read the letters.

Y O U

A R E

C O O L

"Pfft." Amy cracked a smile. (Yes!) "Thanks. You too."

Taylor smiled back at her.

"Your power is neat," Amy said. "With the bugs, and all."

"My power is gross," Taylor retorted. "Also, what bugs?"

Amy blinked. "The bugs." She gestured at the red-lights.

"They're bugs?!" Taylor gasped. "But - but they came out of my arms!"

"They did? Ew!" Amy looked at Taylor's arm-holes with horror. "Okay, you win. Your power is gross. But, hey, at least you get wings."

"My wings are pretty gross, too."

"No, your wings are pretty." Amy idly ran her finger along one of the translucent veins in Taylor's left wing.

"Ow!" Taylor twitched the wing away. "Um, they're still pretty sensitive."

"Ah! I'm sorry." Amy pulled her hand away.

"I - I don't mind. You can stroke them if you want. I've been doing it, too. Just... please be gentle."

Amy stared at her for a moment, and then giggle-snorted.

"What?!"

"N-nothing." Amy grinned. "Sorry. Thank you." She softly ran her fingers along Taylor's wing, tracing the odd iridescent patterns. "I wonder if you'll be able to fly?"

"I think I'm too heavy, aren't I?"

"Well, I'll put it this way: I could lift you, and I exercise maybe once a year."

"Me too. I've got less muscle than a ferret."

"Represent. Unfit for life!" Amy raised a hand for a high-five. Taylor did not leave her hanging.

"Hurrah for poor life decisions!" Taylor added. "We should start a club."

"Heck yeah." Amy laughed. "We could eat junk food and watch movies all day."

"That sounds fun." Taylor smiled, imagining it.

"Taylor," Carol called out, opening the door.

Everyone's breath caught at the same time.

Amy looked at Carol.

Carol looked at Amy. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm spending the night at Taylor's."

"Fine." Carol's eyes slid off of Amy like she was something slimy, and settled on Taylor instead. "Your father is here."

"What?!" Taylor checked the phone. Sure enough, it had been half an hour. The time had passed so much faster, with Amy to keep her company.

"He's waiting in the living room," Carol said, stiffly. Then she walked away, leaving the door open.

"Didn't even ask if you needed help getting there," Amy scowled. "She's being so rude to you."

Taylor wondered if Amy should be so judgmental, considering what she'd done earlier. Taylor was also smart enough to not say that out loud.

"She's justified, I think," Taylor said, diplomatically. "I did kind of drop into her lap, covered in garbage and holes. I haven't really been the best houseguest."

"You've been wonderful, Taylor, don't say that." Amy sniffed. "Carol just likes deflecting problems onto people. She's a mess."

"I think," Taylor's hands clenched, "you should try to open up to her. Connect with her."

"I've done my best, trust me." Amy rolled her eyes. "You don't know her."

"M-my mom's dead," Taylor choked, her voice trembling. "She died last year."

Amy gasped. "Oh, I didn't..."

"Just," Taylor interrupted, continuing on before she got overwhelmed, "just give your mother another chance. Doesn't have to be tonight. But you should apologize, try to make up. I know you're adopted, and I don't know what your family is like, but..." Taylor a sharp breath, and she couldn't speak anymore. She just couldn't.

Amy looked conflicted. "...I'll try," she said at last. "I can't promise anything, though. Seriously, she's, um. But I'll try."

"Thanks," Taylor croaked.

Amy gave Taylor a hug. "I'm so sorry about your mom."

"Me too," Taylor whispered, a few teardrops trickling down her cheeks.

Taylor looked up at the red-lights - the bugs hovering in the air. Her world was so different, now, yet she wasn't sure anything had gotten better. Her dad had been so distant before this. Would this break everything even further? She wanted the bugs to go away, so he wouldn't see them.

The bugs instantly descended on her in unison, and she was too shocked to scream. She pushed Amy away, scared of accidentally hurting her. The swarm started crawling back into the holes they'd come out of, slipping inside of her arms, under her skin. They flowed into her like locusts, and she finally found the strength, the emotion, to scream. She shrieked, blindly, desperately, her mind consumed with terror.

"Taylor?!" A familiar voice cried out.

She heard footsteps racing down the hall, and he suddenly stood there in the doorway, gaping, as the last of the bugs poured into her.

"Dad," Taylor wheezed. "Hey."

And then she fainted.

Last edited: Aug 18, 2018

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Threadmarks Amy Illustration

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Idiom Alpha

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Confirmed Canon

Aug 18, 2018

#604

I drew Amy!

Spoiler: Cape Name

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Threadmarks 6. Aestivation

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Confirmed Canon

Aug 24, 2018

#676

(Sorry for the long wait! My internet was out for a few days. This update's a little longer than usual as a result, though.)

Trillium Waltz

6. Aestivation

Victoria

Victoria was sitting at the most secluded table at the restaurant, silently panicking.

She debated running away while she still had the chance. There was hope in her, a desperate hope, but also the fear that came with it. She wanted to believe that he would help her figure things out. But what if he didn't? Or, worse, what if he told her that she was right to be afraid?

She lay her head back on the plush bench, closing her eyes. She let out a weary groan.

I'm me, Victoria reminded herself. No matter how I've changed, I'm me.

"Victoria," said a voice. Victoria bristled, her anxiety spiking.

"Hey," she said, forcing herself to relax. Take your time. Take it easy.

"Sorry." Dean raised his hands back, in a nonthreatening posture. "Didn't mean to surprise you."

"You didn't." She raised a hand, and a tiny fragment of forcefield shot out of his collar, returning to her hand.

Victoria had taken care to pick a table distant from the rest of the restaurant, in the far back corner. It was hard to even see them, and if they spoke quietly, the chances of being overheard were next to none.

Especially since Victoria could see and hear anyone coming from any direction.

"That's your power?" Dean glanced at her hand, with the little fragment dancing around on her palm.

"Pretty much," she confirmed, distracted. "It's a forcefield that covers me, normally." She briefly pulled the bottom of her shirt up, revealing the shimmering patch of glass-like shield along her stomach. "I can see and hear through it, and I can divide it into segments."

"You put one on me?"

"I put one on everyone in the building," she corrected him, displaying her smuggest grin, "and on all of the doors, dishes, windows, menus, and under the floorboards. Lots of other places, too. I can make them small and thin enough that they just look like patches of reflected light, so no one even knows."

Dean gave her an odd look.

"What?" She shrugged, feeling defensive. "I got bored."

Also, I needed to take my mind off of other things, Victoria silently added. That too.

"...okay. So, I've heard – I mean, trigger events are generally pretty rough," Dean said, briefly stuttering. "How are you holding up?"

Victoria shrunk slightly in her seat, misery settling back in.

Dean sat down across from her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No! No. It's okay." Victoria forced a smile. He's an empath, idiot! She allowed the smile to fade. "I'm just... I don't know. Stuck in my head."

"What's going on?" Dean asked. "You seem... off."

"I'm fine!" Victoria squeaked. "Ha! Ha ha. Just fine."

Dean gave her another odd look.

Victoria bit her lip. "I – I didn't trigger alone. Amy and Taylor triggered, too, at the same time."

"Taylor?"

"Oh, right. Why did I say her name? You wouldn't know her. You – you don't know her," Victoria mumbled, squirming around in her seat. "She's cu– cool. She's cool."

"Victoria, not to be rude, but did you hit your head, or something?" Dean asked, lowering his voice. "You're acting kind of... and your emotions... I have no idea what I'm looking at. You're all over the place. Desperation, fear, flashes of love–"

"Luh–?!" Victoria coughed. "Love?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice quiet.

"Sort of. It's weird. A different shade, if that makes sense? Intense, but unusual." Dean stared at her quizzically. "I've heard rumors about grab-bag capes."

"Whatever the rumors are, they're not crazy enough."

"I've heard multi-triggers develop strong feelings for one another. Either they hate each other, or..."

"Oh, fuck," Victoria put her hands over her face, slumping forward a bit. "I didn't choose it. I didn't! It's not me."

"Love," he echoed, beginning to understand.

"Taylor," she said quickly, before he could come to any conclusions on his own. "The other girl. Taylor. I - I don't know how, but... I have all these feelings."

Dean blinked, surprised. "I didn't know you were – "

"I'm not!" Victoria yelled loud enough that even the distant patrons of the restaurant probably heard her. She lowered her hands down her face, covering her mouth. "I'm not," she repeated, staring hopelessly at Dean. "But it doesn't matter, apparently."

"Oh, damn." Dean exhaled very slowly, trying to process that information.

"It's like – god, I don't know what this is, you know?" Victoria's shivered, trying not to cry. She'd been crying so much. She was tired of crying. "It's like I'm someone else, and I'm having these feelings, and I – I don't know how to categorize them, how to make sense of them. I mean, I keep having these stray thoughts about their skin and their eyes, and – "

"Victoria, take a second to breathe, okay?" Dean said, reaching forward and putting his hand on hers. "Relax."

"Mmm." Victoria rocked back and forth slightly, unable to quell the feelings. She was thinking of Amy, and she was fighting it every second.

"Why did you say 'their'?" Dean asked. "I thought it was just the one girl."

Victoria cringed.

He had a searching, disquieted expression. "Victoria, are you attracted to girls, now?"

At least he didn't figure out the full story.

Victoria looked away from him. "I don't know," she whispered, feeling weak. "I really needed to see you, to make sure – to know that I'm not..."

"Are you seriously asking me to figure out whether you're gay?" Dean looked incredulous.

"Just let me look at you, for a bit. If that's okay."

He blushed. "...Sure."

They sat there, across from each other, both clearly uncomfortable.

Victoria's eyes covered every inch of him, desperate and searching. What did I find attractive, before? Beyond his powers, obviously. Victoria winced at the thought, still feeling a bit guilty about that. He's cool. He's cute. He is cute, right? Yeah. She smiled.

"Reached a verdict?"

Victoria nodded, then opened her mouth to speak, and –

She felt a moment of confusion and horror,

in the self of three places,

or the place of three selves.

She felt the things inside her body, crawling, burrowing, sliding,

she saw herself from another angle, and she felt so useless, though this gave her an idea,

and she saw someone who was familiar, but strange. She asked him who he was,

but that felt strange, too, because she knew who he was,

even if she wasn't sure who she was.

Victoria swayed in her seat, putting a hand to her head. She felt nauseous. That was... wait. Taylor?! She'd felt things under Taylor's skin. Horrible little things, and a lot of them.

But Dean's whimpering caught Victoria's attention, first. "Dean! Are you okay?"

He made a miserable, guttural exhalation. He almost looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. "What...?" He finally managed to rasp out the word, still dazed.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure how to..." Victoria trailed off, shaking her head. "What happened?"

"Who... are... you?" Dean panted, his face red.

"What are you talking about? It's me. Victoria."

"That's not what I meant," Dean clarified, starting to breathe more easily. "You asked me. You asked me who I was."

Victoria's hands flew to her mouth. "I – I didn't say anything," she whispered, as she started to piece it together. "It wasn't me."

"Who was it, then?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Victoria answered, honestly. "Dean, what happened? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"I don't know if they meant to, whoever they were." Dean groaned, rubbing his temples. "I felt... how do I put this? If my power picks up whispers, then you were like an air raid siren going off in my ear."

"I'm sorry," Victoria gasped, standing up. She stepped away from the table.

"Victoria, wait," Dean called out.

But she was already running.

When she got out onto the street, she slammed all of her divided forcefields onto whatever surface they were on. The smaller they were, the easier they broke, so it didn't take much. She kept running towards home, her mind on Taylor. She got curious looks from passersby as the forcefield returned to her body, making her appear more and more like a girl made out of oil-film light.

Need to be faster, she thought. She'd made spider legs, before, but that had been to help carry Taylor back home, and it had turned out a bit sketchy. Her forcefield shorted out more easily the thinner it got, so the less division the better.

She wondered whether a floating platform might work. She formed her shield into a disk, and had it hover in front of herself. She stepped onto it, and it lowered to the ground. She tried to make it lift her, to move, but it wouldn't. It was like trying to lift herself into the air; it just didn't work.

When she'd made it into spider legs, those legs had felt like her own physical limbs. New parts of her, sure, but her brain had accepted them instantly. Now that she thought about it, her shield did feel like an extension of her body. As though it were a literal second skin, or whatever else she formed it into.

Her forcefield had also been a lot stronger, she realized, when it was connected to her body. She could mold it creatively, too, as if she had more to work with, forming complex structures. Sure, she could make crude replicas of things when her shield was away from her, but when they were attached to her body, they actually worked. Spider legs walked. Her makeshift weapon had collided like an actual club.

Experimentally, Victoria pulled the disk apart and returned the shield to her skin, focusing it around her legs. She formed them into stilts, sort of, with the forcefield stretching downward from her knees like long extensions of her calves. Once she'd gotten the shape right, she had them grow longer. She started to tip over, and she created claws around the bottom of her 'stilts', allowing her to balance more easily. Now feeling more steady, she let them grow further.

Within seconds, she was far above the street, and even one of the smaller buildings nearby. She hopped off onto the rooftop, dispersing the stilts mid-jump. After landing, she let her shield smoothly flow back onto her body.

Awesome, Victoria concluded.

She considered spending the next few hours messing around with different shapes, testing her limits. She'd mostly tried out fine control back at the house, while Taylor was asleep. Objects, patterns. Nothing like this.

But, no, she had to get back to Taylor, and make sure that she was okay.

Victoria formed her shield into clawed stilts again, ones long enough for her to reach other buildings. Victoria was a bit annoyed at their vague resemblance to chicken-legs, but she put that aside. I can always improve them later. A bit unsettled at how distant the ground seemed, she moved slowly and carefully. She focused her shield into the leg she was putting her weight on, making sure it could support her, and she tentatively stepped from one rooftop to another.

Her shield didn't short out from the movement. It didn't even seem fragile. She took another step, faster than the first. Then another.

Before long, she was happily bounding from rooftop to rooftop, feeling the wind in her hair.

She let out an excited laugh, and promptly caught a bug in her mouth. She spent a few seconds coughing and spitting. After that, she grumpily diverted a patch of shield to cover her face, blocking any further intruders to her face-holes. Way to ruin the moment, bug, she thought, irritated.

It hadn't dampened her mood that much, though.

Victoria continued her run home, her mind whirling with new possibilities.

Taylor

Taylor regained consciousness. For a moment, she was confused. She was on a couch, and a bunch of people were looking down at her with worried faces. She tried to put names to them. Amy, Carol, Mark, and... Dad?

What's going on? She wondered, feeling uncomfortable with all the attention. Why was everyone watching me sleep?

She felt an itch, and went to scratch it, but stopped when she realized the itch was underneath her skin. Not just in once place, either. She could feel dozens of little itches and shimmers of irritation inside her, crawling around. She looked down, and she saw little shapes moving, like worms sliding around beneath her skin.

What is this?!

Then she remembered.

She started hyperventilating.

"Hey, Taylor," Amy reached down, holding her hand. "Hey."

Taylor began to cry, staring up at Amy with desperation. "G-get them out," Taylor pleaded. "Get them out of me!"

"I'm not sure how," Amy responded, slowly. Worry slipped into her expression.

"What the hell did you people do to her?" Dad demanded. He looked very haggard, but seemed to be powering through on fury alone. He stared furiously at Carol. "Do something! Use your powers, turn her back to normal!"

"I wish that was my power," Carol grumbled.

Taylor felt them squishing around in her shoulders, visible as she looked at them. "Help!" She shouted. "Help, please!"

"Calm down, Taylor," Amy said, kneeling down next to her. "I'm not sure what I can do, here. My powers... I could try to force them out of you, but I feel like it'd hurt more than help."

"Help," Taylor repeated, hopelessly. "Help me."

"I don't know how to – wait. There is something, I think," Amy turned to look at Carol. "One of my powers – it lets me connect with people, mess around with electrical impulses."

"Electrical impulses?" Carol asked.

"Like the ones in the brain, the kind it sends to – and receives from – the body. Senses, emotions, movements."

"Brains." Carol furrowed her brow. "You control brains."

"Partially," Amy admitted. She paused, glancing at Taylor, then back to Carol again. She met Carol's eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, Mom."

"What do you mean? What did you do?!"

"Back in the room," Amy said, with a lot of discomfort, "I traded our emotions. Switched them around, for a bit."

Carol's eyes widened with realization. Mark stared at Amy, horrified.

It was awkward. Taylor didn't care. It wasn't enough to distract her.

She tried to cover her eyes, tried to imagine she was anywhere else, anyone else, but as she raised her hands to her face, she saw little bumps moving around inside her palms. They were there, too. They were everywhere.

Taylor lost herself to panic. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She shrieked again, writhing and kicking, flailing, gnashing her teeth.

"Taylor!" Someone called out, scared. She was too scared to recognize who they were.

They were inside her, they were inside her, and she couldn't get them out, they were inside her skin and her organs and she felt them wriggling around on her ribs, and she didn't know how to stop it, she didn't know what to do!

She felt a moment of confusion and horror,

in the self of three places,

or the place of three selves.

She felt the things inside her body, crawling, touching, sliding,

she saw herself from another angle, and she felt so useless, though this gave her an idea,

and she saw someone who was familiar, but strange. She asked him who he was,

but that felt strange, too, because she knew who he was,

even if she wasn't sure who she was.

Taylor was consumed by vertigo and shock. This happened before, she realized. The bizarreness of the experience comforted her, in a way, making things seem unreal.

But then she suddenly tasted iron, and she felt something moving inside her cheek, and it brought her panic back in full force. She bit at the inside of her mouth and desperately scratched at her face, but she couldn't get the thing out, and now there was blood all over her face and lips and –

Suddenly, Taylor was standing up, looking down at someone lying on a couch. Her terror had just been lowered dramatically, like someone had flicked a light switch.

What just happened? Taylor wondered. She was still frightened, but the fear began to fade away in favor of confusion.

The girl on the couch stopped, looking equally confused. She had blood pouring out of her mouth, and it took Taylor a moment to recognize her own face.

"Oh, fuck," Taylor heard herself say. No, not herself. The standing person, the person she was looking out of. The words had come from her new mouth, but Taylor hadn't said anything. Taylor felt disoriented. She couldn't move. She tried to speak, and the Taylor on the couch gurgled. "She bit her tongue, holy shit, holy shit!" Taylor felt tears running down her face. Not her own.

Amy, Taylor realized. Taylor saw a little bump sliding across the skin of the other Taylor's forearm, and felt her body shudder in response. This is... confusing.

"What did you do?" Mark asked, staring at Taylor. He had a first-aid kit in his hands, and was sitting next to the other-Taylor.

"I – I'm in Taylor, Taylor's in me," Amy's mouth coughed in a pained way. "I exchanged our senses. Seeing, hearing, f-feeling. I took half of her fear, too. Needed to stop her from panicking. But now I'm... fuck! They're crawling around in my skin, Mom, they're inside me!"

"What's happening?" Dad asked, terrified. He pulled couch-Taylor up, hugging her. "I'm here with you, Taylor," he murmured in her ear. "I'm here."

"Th-thanks?" Amy's mouth said, though she still sounded disconcerted. "That's – I mean, it's nice of you, but – but, I can't... oh my god, this is so bad."

Taylor felt hands pulling at her shoulders, turning her to the side. Carol stared into Taylor's eyes, searching for something.

"You're Taylor?" Carol asked, unsure.

Taylor tried to answer. "Yuuh. Umm dayuhr," the her on the couch gurgled.

"She can't talk through me," Amy's voice groaned. "I could rearrange our mouths, but – oh, never mind. Her body feels – it feels horrible, but I think she's relaxed enough that I can put our senses back. Taylor, are you ready?"

Taylor shivered, then nodded. Instantly, she snapped back to herself, and felt the things crawling under her skin again. Her mouth hurt like nothing else. She could barely think. Her tongue felt like it had almost been bitten in half. But she also felt Dad hugging her, and that made her feel a bit better. Not a lot, but it was at least comforting.

"Urkh," Amy grunted. She exhaled slowly. "Okay. Back to normal. Taylor, I'm going to try to heal your tongue, now, alright? It'll hurt a lot, I think. Briefly, but – yeah. Is that okay?"

"Eeeeuunnh," Taylor moaned, splurting blood out of her mouth. She wasn't even sure what she was trying to say. She felt light-headed.

"I'm optimistically going to take that as a reluctant yes," Amy said. She gave Taylor a faint, comforting smile. "Please try not to move too much, if you can help it."

Amy sat down beside Taylor, and laid her hand on her cheek. Taylor felt the near-severed part of her tongue start to reconnect. She gasped. The pain was excruciating, somehow even worse than before. It felt like her mouth was full of needles.

Fortunately, Victoria chose that moment to burst into the room. She was a bit sweaty, but she looked strangely triumphant. Her face fell as soon as she saw all the blood, though. "Taylor!" She yelled, rushing over to her. "I came as fast as I could, after I – after we..." She struggled to find the words to explain it. Taylor knew what she meant, though. Amy was briefly distracted, peeking at Victoria.

Taylor went through another sickening stab of pain. Victoria quickly spun parts of her forcefield into Taylor's mouth and onto her cheek. Others split off, attaching themselves to specific parts of Taylor's body.

Immediately, Taylor's pain all but vanished. It didn't get the things out of her, though.

"Thank you," Amy said.

"Dean was kind of spooked. I – we freaked him out, I mean." Victoria stuttered.

"I remember," Amy observed. "I was there, too."

"Right," Victoria said, blinking. "This is so weird."

"What are you talking about?" Carol asked, sharply.

"We have these, um. I don't know what to call them. Episodes? We kind of... overlap." Victoria tried to explain with gestures, but failed. "I was with Dean, and Taylor used my – I mean, she said something to him."

Taylor remembered the guy who she didn't know. Dean, she supposed.

"With your mouth." Carol looked as though she might throw up. "She spoke with your mouth. Without being anywhere near you."

"Yeah," Victoria confirmed. At the sight of Carol's horrified expression, she quickly added: "It's not always like that! It only happens when one of us is, um, having a really bad time. That's what Mouse Protector said. And – and it's not like we control each other! We just kind of... intermingle, get all mixed up. It's difficult to describe."

Carol stared at her. She was silent.

"Too much," Carol finally replied, her voice strained. "It's too much."

Carol turned, walking away. Taylor was too busy trying to keep herself awake to see where Carol had gone.

Taylor's lightheadedness turned into a floating feeling. Her vision blurred and went dark.

~ ~ ~

Taylor had a blanket over her, and her head was on a pillow. She felt sleepy, so she didn't open her eyes, but she heard people talking.

"–pital. I mean, all that blood!"

"I replaced it. Healed the wounds."

"What about the things under her skin?" Dad was asking, unhappily.

"She was metabolizing them, turns out."

"Excuse me?!"

"Well, they were made out of, er..."

"Vicky, there's no good way to phrase this." Amy cleared her throat. "Mr. Hebert, those things came out of her body to begin with. I think she was just putting them back."

There was a gasp. Taylor wasn't sure whose it was. Probably Dad's.

"She can stay another night, if she needs to," Mark offered. "Though it might be a bit awkward, with Carol."

"Probably best to give her some time," Amy interjected. "I was hoping to spend the night at Taylor's house anyway. Uh, if that's okay, Mr. Hebert?"

Dad was silent.

"I mean, it's for her sake, more than mine. I can act as her lifeline, in case of another emergency. I can help with the panic, heal her injuries, and–"

"You can actually heal, outright?" Mark asked.

"Uh, yeah? You saw me do it."

"I wasn't sure what I was looking at, exactly. But, wow. Healing outright. That's not common."

"What can I say? I'm amazing." Amy chuckled. "So, Victoria, you're staying here, right?"

"I guess so." Victoria sounded hesitant.

"Carol needs someone to help her come to grips with us. She's not great with unknowns." Amy sighed. "She'll trust you more than she'd trust either of us."

"I'm tired," Taylor mumbled, loudly enough that people could hear.

The room went silent. It was quiet enough for her to sleep again, so she cuddled up under the blanket and pleasantly drifted away.

~ ~ ~

Taylor felt herself taking uncertain steps, moving slowly forwards.

"Just a little farther," Dad said. He was next to her, supporting her, helping her walk.

Taylor couldn't feel her legs. It felt like she was sitting down, even though she was standing up.

Am I sleepwalking? she wondered, dimly.

She felt herself flop down onto a seat. Suddenly, her legs felt normal again. She blinked, looking around. She was in the back seat of Dad's car. Amy was sitting next to her.

"Just walking you to the car," Amy whispered. "You're fine. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Mmhm," Taylor hummed, still half-asleep. She lay her head on Amy's lap, using it as a pillow. Amy was startled, but she relaxed pretty quickly.

Taylor fell asleep again, and had wonderful dreams.

~ ~ ~

Taylor woke up in her own bed, in her own clothes.

She sat up, bleary-eyed. "Mrmmf," she stated, with great intelligence.

"Oh, hey," Amy said. "Good morning."

Taylor reached out, searching for her glasses. She found an older pair, and she supposed that was good enough. She put them on, blinking the dust out of her eyes.

Amy was sitting on the floor in front of her bed, on top of a sleeping bag. The same one Emma had always used.

"Good morning," Taylor managed to repeat.

"I've become a voracious reader, apparently." Amy presented several of Taylor's books as evidence. "Oh, uh, sorry for reading them without your permission."

"S'okay," Taylor grunted.

"Dad – your Dad, I mean. He wanted to talk to you." Amy said. "He's on the phone at the moment, though."

Taylor checked to see if she still had wings, or whether that had been a dream.

She still had wings. Cool.

"Want to make breakfast together?" Amy asked, smiling.

"Sure," Taylor nodded. She stood up without thinking. She paused. "I can stand up."

"Yeah," Amy said. She looked a bit guilty. "Your muscles grew back, I guess. You can almost walk on your own, too."

"Wait. Last night..." Taylor trailed off, squinting at her. "Did you–?"

"Sorry." Amy lowered her head. "You looked so relaxed. I wanted to let you sleep."

"Your power works on sleeping people?"

"Not especially well," Amy admitted. "Enough to walk you to your car, though, with help from your Dad."

"And Dad was okay with that?"

"He sort of, um, didn't notice?" Amy said, enunciating it like an awkward question. "I think he thought it was you doing it."

Taylor gave Amy a hard stare. Amy looked very sheepish. As she should! Taylor thought, annoyed.

But it was only a little thing, after all.

"I forgive you, Ames," Taylor said, with a yawn. "So, breakfast?"

"Breakfast! Yes!" Amy repeated, eager for a change in subject. She put Taylor's books back in their proper places, then stood up.

Amy stopped, looking momentarily confused. Then she shrugged, letting whatever it was go, and she walked Taylor out of her room.

Taylor's legs looked and felt stronger than they had been, since the dumpster. She still needed help, but she didn't feel like she'd need it for much longer. She heard Dad talking on the phone, arguing with someone about something or other. Taylor was too hungry to pay attention. Amy opened the fridge for her to look through. There wasn't that much, but they didn't really need that much.

"Eggs," Taylor decreed.

And so it was.

Taylor grabbed a cup and a fork, sat down at the table, and started scrambling. Amy, meanwhile, was pulling out bread to make toast. It was kind of fun, making such a simple breakfast as a team. It reminded Taylor of a time years earlier, when she'd helped Mom do the same. Mom. Taylor thought about her, as she had done many times. I miss you.

"Thanks. I'll cook them," Amy said, taking the cup of egg. "I've got years of experience," she grinned. "I'm pretty good at it."

"You've made your own breakfast for years?" Taylor asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Amy said. "So?"

"Wow. I haven't done it at all until this year, really. Dad still does it, too, off-and-on."

"Oh." Amy turned away, focusing on the frying pan. "Mark makes me breakfast on the weekends, sometimes."

They didn't talk for a while. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. Or Taylor felt fine, at least.

"What was your mom like?" Amy asked, quietly. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Mom? She..." Taylor's voice went strange. She gave herself a moment, then spoke again. "Warm, and kind, and smart. That's Mom. A wonderful person."

"She sounds really nice." Amy turned, shooting Taylor a small smile.

"She was," Taylor breathed, memories floating to the surface. "She really was."

They were quiet, again. Amy examined Taylor with an uncertain expression.

"My father killed people, I think," Amy eventually said, her voice a bit shaky.

"Mark killed people?!" Taylor asked, startled.

Amy shook her head. "My biological father. He's in the Birdcage."

Taylor took a few seconds to process this, then responded. "That sucks."

"It does," Amy agreed.

"Doesn't mean anything, though," Taylor continued. "I don't think you'll kill anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"Thanks." Amy returned to cooking the eggs, looking away from Taylor. "I've been feeling worried about my impulse redirection power, about how I use it. It's so easy. Too easy."

"You have been using it a lot."

"I know. I think it's – and maybe this is only me trying to excuse it, but – it's like scratching an itch. It feels..." Amy trailed off, then spoke again. "No. No, that sounds like I'm justifying it. I guess it's because I enjoy having control, for once. I try to use it for little things, helpful things. But if I start to abuse that power –" she choked, shuddering.

"Um... Are you okay?"

"Taylor, if I become like him... No, that's not it. I don't even know what he's like. If I become a bad person? Please stop me," Amy said, and she sounded close to tears. "Because I'm kind of scared, to be honest. I'm trying to set boundaries, make rules for myself, but it's hard. I feel as though my head keeps changing. The way I think is different."

"Personality bleed, like Mouse Protector mentioned?" Taylor asked. "I've been noticing it, too, sometimes. Little differences."

"I know. I've seen it in you, I've seen it in Vicky, and – and I think I see it in me, a lot more." Amy shoved the eggs around with a spatula, putting a little more force into it than was necessary. "I'm not the person I used to be. I have no idea who I am, now, or who I'm turning into."

"You're still Amy, and I'm still Taylor," Taylor said, simply. "Even if things about us are different."

"But what happens when there's more that's different than what's normal?" Amy's voice was hushed, frightened. "I – I had your dreams again, last night, and I saw your mom. When I woke up, I started reading your books without thinking about it. I looked around at your room and it felt familiar. When I talked to your dad earlier, I accidentally called him 'Dad'. There's so much of you in me, and I don't know if –"

"Amy, the eggs are starting to burn."

"Oh! Sorry." She used the spatula and shoveled the eggs out onto two different plates, then distributed toast. She placed one plate down in front of Taylor, and one across from her. She sat down, and they started eating. They could still hear Dad arguing on the phone, and neither of them called out to him.

Taylor studied Amy, looking at the little ways she moved, the expressions she made. Is this how I look? Taylor wondered. Is this me?

"I don't think you're me," Taylor commented, between bites. "You're still you, just a little bit me-flavored, if that makes any sense."

"You-flavored?" Amy didn't seem especially comforted by this. "It's still so much of a change."

"I'm surprised you're so worried about this, considering you literally turned us into each other, last night. Sort of, anyway."

"Sorry." Amy blushed. Taylor wasn't sure why.

"It's fine. Honestly. That's kind of my point." Taylor impaled some egg on her fork, then tore off a bit of toast to go with it. "I don't care if I'm partially you. You seem nice, and so does Victoria. I hope that I'm nice, though I can't judge that. We're–"

"You are nice," Amy started, but Taylor was still talking.

"–we're sharing parts of our selves with each other, and we can't really change that. But if all three of us are decent people, how would us mixing together make you into a bad one?"

Amy quietly ate, pondering Taylor's question.

"Taylor!" Dad said, coming into the kitchen. "Good morning."

"Morning, Dad," Taylor said.

"Morning, Mr. Hebert," Amy said, after a few seconds of silence. Trying not to say 'Dad' again, probably. "Sorry, we didn't know how long you'd be on the phone. You can have some of my eggs, if you want."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry." He sat down at the table. "Hey, Taylor. How are you, um, feeling?"

"Tired," Taylor said, finishing off her toast.

"Oh." Dad seemed unsettled. "Really? That's all?"

Taylor paused. She glanced at Amy. Amy didn't meet her eyes.

"Amy's been taking away my stress," Taylor guessed, and Amy's reaction confirmed it. "She's nice like that," Taylor added.

Amy blushed again.

"I'm glad she's helping," said Dad, almost certainly misunderstanding what Taylor had meant. "So. Wings, huh?"

As an answer, Taylor unfurled her wings. She then discovered that she could flutter her wings, and so she fluttered them slightly. This ended up accidentally knocking the calendar off of the wall behind her. "Crap, sorry!"

"It's okay," Dad said, picking it up off the floor and pinning it back to the wall. He sat down again. "Right. You have powers."

"Seems that way." Taylor savored the last bite of her eggs. Amy looked more nervous than ever.

Dad gazed at Taylor, like he wasn't sure what he should say.

"Who was that on the phone?" Taylor asked.

"Hm? Oh, the police."

"What?!"

"I reported you as missing," Dad explained. "I had to let them know that I found you."

"Ah." Taylor felt both guilty and confused. "Wait, you were arguing with the police?"

"Oh, no. That was the second call. I was telling the school that you were back."

"My school? Winslow?"

"Yeah. You've been absent for two days, Taylor. They were talking about giving you detention, or worse." Dad looked irritated. "I argued with them about it. I tried to explain that you were, uh... sick, but since I didn't call it in at the time, they wanted records that you'd gone to the hospital, or a clinic. I'm not sure what's going to happen, now."

"I could still go, today," Taylor thought out loud.

They both stared at her. "Really?"

"Why not?" Taylor asked, pushing her empty plate away from her. "It's not like my wings are about to vanish. This is me, now."

"You might be able to hide them," Amy began, biting her lip.

"Sure, if I wanted to walk around with a giant inexplicable lump on my back," Taylor grunted dismissively. "No thanks. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in hiding."

"You seem... different," Dad said, his voice a little husky. Taylor could tell that he was freaking out inside, and was struggling to keep himself steady. "Are you sure you want to do this today?"

Taylor noticed that Amy was breathing too quickly, and tensing a little. It felt familiar.

"Amy, stop." Taylor said. "It's nice of you, really. But please stop."

Amy gave Taylor a brief, guilty look, and then...

Anxiety. Fear. Desperation. Sadness.

Taylor lurched forward in her seat, eyes wide, gasping. She felt like she might throw up.

"Taylor?!" Dad asked, shocked. He got up and rushed over, giving her a hug.

"M'fine," Taylor lied. She felt horrible.

"Do you still want to go to school today?" Amy asked, sitting more casually.

"Uh..." Taylor thought about it for a full minute, almost two. "Tomorrow," she decided at last. "I'll go tomorrow. Not today."

"Taylor, I don't know..." Dad whispered. "After what happened yesterday – I think you need more time. I would."

"Maybe. But I – I want to do this." Taylor stuttered. She'd been confident, moments earlier, and she wanted to hold on to that confidence. It felt good. "I need to do this. I need to be able to own it."

"It's a good idea," Amy said, with a small smile. "I know that I was harsh on Victoria for trying to get you to join, but I think you'd be great in New Wave. They're all unmasked, and they'd look after you. We would," she clarified. "I'm probably joining, too."

Me, a superhero? Taylor imagined it. Stopping criminals. Helping people. Saving the day. She grinned. I'm going to be a superhero!

Dad had an unsure expression. He stood up, staring at both of the girls at the table. He took a long, deep breath, held it for maybe ten seconds, then let it out. "Alright. If this is what you want, then okay. But you are not joining New Wave."

"What?!" Taylor's heart sank. "Why not?"

"I'm not about to let you go run off and fight crime with a bunch of strangers, Taylor. You're barely fourteen." Dad hesitated. "And I – I don't want to lose you, too."

Mom.

Taylor felt as though she had something in her throat. She swallowed, but it didn't go away. "I love you, Dad," she mumbled.

"I love you too, kiddo." Dad gave her another hug. It felt so warm. "So, let's see about getting you a new book-bag for tomorrow. The Dallons gave me your old one, and, er..."

"Yeah, I know." Taylor wrinkled her nose, just thinking about it.

"I can carry her books in my bag," Amy offered.

The Heberts gave her a pair of near-identical funny looks. "How does that help?" Taylor asked, confused.

"Well, I'm going with you, obviously." Amy snorted. "Did you think I'd leave you alone? I told your dad, already; I'm your lifeline, in case something goes wrong. I'm not leaving your side until I know you're better."

"I think that's a great idea," Dad agreed, with an awkward little series of quick nods. "I'm worried about sending you off alone, anyway. I would feel a lot better with someone looking after you."

A childish part of Taylor wanted to say "I don't need looking after!" but she didn't say it, because, of course, she did need help. She shot Amy a quick smile, and Amy returned it.

More than that, Taylor liked the idea of going to school with a friend, again.

Her mind drifted to the other reason she wanted to go back to Winslow, now that she had powers. It was a shallow, small, desperate reason, but it was there. She hoped that maybe having powers would be a conversation opener, a way to bridge the gap.

With this, Taylor might finally be able to talk to Emma, and find out what exactly she'd done wrong.

Amy

They were all silent, on the ride to school. Amy had never been the greatest at breaking the ice, and so she let it be.

When they pulled up in the parking lot, Dad got out of the car, embracing Taylor again. "If anything goes wrong, you call home right away," he murmured. "I'll be here in a flash."

"Thank," Taylor said, awkwardly. "Thanks," she corrected herself.

"That goes for you, too," Amy reminded him. "You have the number I gave you, right?"

He nodded, pulling the little notepad from his pocket.

"Good. If you see anything sketchy, call them right away," Amy ordered. "I doubt anyone'll try to go after you over Taylor, not while she's this new, but..."

"I'll keep an eye out," Dad agreed. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?"

"I think we'll be okay," Amy smiled. His temper had already escalated the situation, a bit, and he was still having a lot of difficulty understanding what his daughter was going through. In the state he was in, Amy doubted Dad would be able to help much.

Dad?

Stop that, Amy chastised her brain. He's not my dad!

Amy's first impression, after Dad – after Mr. Hebert finally drove away, was that Winslow seemed pretty miserable. Not unbelievably so, but it definitely wasn't about to win any awards for presentation. It was industrial-looking, and just seedy enough to give off an air of quiet unpleasantness.

It's not like this was a surprise, though. Winslow was pretty much known as Garbage School to people who went to Arcadia. Winslow was the one where all the trashy kids did trashy things and there were drugs and stuff. That was the gist of it, anyway. Amy hadn't paid the rumors a lot of attention.

Then again, it couldn't be all bad. Victoria had a few friends from Winslow, after all. And, of course, Taylor went there.

Taylor. She was wearing one of her dad's baggier coats over her folded-up wings, and she looked odd, misshapen. Underneath, she was wearing a black t-shirt – Amy had spent an hour or so helping Taylor cut holes in the back of it, so that her wings could fit through it – and a pair of dark grey jeans.

Taylor's wardrobe didn't seem to have much color in it, which was a bit of a waste. Her black hair and slim figure could complement a lot of different styles. She didn't have to be borderline goth.

Since when did I care about fashion? Amy wondered.

Amy pushed her odd thoughts aside. She was holding Taylor's hand, and she could feel it trembling.

"Are you sure about this?" Amy asked her, quietly. "Once you do it, there's no going back."

"I..." Taylor wavered, looking lost. Then she stiffened, standing up straighter. "I'm sure."

But she was still trembling.

"You don't have to reveal your powers. It's okay if you don't want to do it. You could probably be in New Wave anyway." Although it would take a lot more convincing, Amy added silently.

"I'm doing this," Taylor insisted. "I'm going."

"Alright. I'm with you." Amy squeezed her hand. "Let's go."

They walked forward, hand in hand, with the drove of students arriving at school. People were giving Taylor odd looks as they passed by, and Taylor immediately lowered her head, almost staring at the ground.

She's scared, Amy realized. I guess that's understandable, given the situation, but that seemed almost like a reflex.

Taylor showed Amy the way to the principal's office, and before too long they were sitting in front of an unfriendly-looking woman. She was unattractive in the way that only temperament can make someone.

"Ms. Hebert," the principal said, stiffly. "Glad to see you're attending, today." The way she said it made it sound like she wasn't glad at all. More prim, accusing. "Your father was fairly vocal about your situation, when we spoke. Less so, when he asked for me to meet with you. I assume you're here to explain your absences?"

Taylor nodded. She tried to say something, but her words came out in a jumble, "Sick – couldn't walk – power."

"Excuse me?" The principal raised an eyebrow.

"Taylor's been ill," Amy explained. She gave Taylor a look. Taylor nodded, and Amy hoped that was her way of saying Amy could speak on her behalf. "Ill and bedridden, due to, well... physical issues."

"Physical issues," the principal repeated, flatly. "Does this have anything to do with that lump on her back?"

"A bit," Amy said. "Taylor?"

Taylor obligingly stood up, and Amy helped her pull the coat off. Taylor unfolded her wings. The principal yelped in fright, leaping to her feet and knocking her chair aside in her rush. She backed up against the wall, terrified.

Taylor cringed at that reaction.

"She's a parahuman, if you hadn't noticed," Amy continued, in the same relaxed tone of voice. She felt a little pleased to have upset the principal's annoying dourness. "She got her powers a few days ago."

"Powers," the principal repeated, under her breath.

"Yes." Amy smiled. "Powers. The kind that keep a person from being unable to attend school, while they adapt. She's not in any way harmful to others, though. She mostly just has a few changes to her body, as you can see."

The principal slowly collected herself, sitting back down. She was still looking uncomfortably at Taylor. Taylor fidgeted under her gaze. The stern woman rifled through a drawer on her desk, pulling out a small sheet of paper and skimming it with her eyes. She spoke in a listless monotone. "In situations regarding powers, students are given some leeway. I suppose your absences might be excused."

"Might be?" Amy asked.

"They're excused," the principal clarified. "Are you planning to continue attending classes at Winslow, Ms. Hebert?"

Taylor nodded, her wings twitching anxiously.

"Ah." The principal cleared her throat, unnerved. "Well, alright, then."

"Also, I'm shadowing her today," Amy declared. "My name's Amy Dallon, if you need it."

"Sure," the principal murmured. "Fine." She was running her fingers through her hair, in a bit of a daze.

"I've got math with Mr. Quinlan, next period," Taylor said, her uncertain tone making the words sound almost like a question.

"Go, then." The principal replied, giving her a funny look.

And they went. Taylor considered putting the jacket back on, but she didn't. Instead, she put it in Amy's bag, and the two of them walked out into the hall. There was next to nobody there. That said, the period was almost over, and soon the halls would be full of students. Taylor had folded up her wings, but they were still pretty obvious.

"That went well, I think." Amy patted Taylor on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Taylor said, quietly. She led Amy down the halls, and they arrived at the classroom door. Taylor froze, staring at the door like the edge of a cliff. Amy stood there with her, displaying what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Inside, Amy was just as worried as Taylor. If this goes badly, it could go really badly, Amy thought, clenching her teeth. But at least I'll be here to keep her safe.

The bell rang. The period ended.

People flooded out of the classrooms, coming and going, but then a boy came to a slow stop, staring wide-eyed at Taylor. Other students followed his gaze as they passed by, and they similarly started to gawk at her.

Taylor shied away from the attention, immediately fleeing into the classroom, but that didn't help much. Curious students gathered at the door, pushing each other aside to get a look at her. Taylor stumbled over to the chair in the furthest corner, collapsing into it. Amy followed, sitting in the chair beside her. Taylor ducked down, trying in vain to cover her face.

This was a bad idea, Amy thought, as her heart sank. She's not ready for it.

Amy had seen firsthand the way people would stop on the street, startled by the sight of capes walking or flying around them. The day-to-day life of New Wave. Amy, as always, was the girl trailing behind the spectacle, the one who nobody cared to look at. She'd never known how to feel about that – whether to be happy that she could have her privacy, or sad that she didn't deserve attention.

An older man, who Amy assumed was Mr. Quinlan, forced his way through the students. He was a bit bedraggled, with a sagging gut. He, too, froze at the sight of Taylor, but then he slowly returned to being halfway composed. Principal talked to him, probably, Amy guessed.

Mr. Quinlan walked nervously around the edge of classroom, now attempting to ignore Taylor entirely. He started writing math-related things on the blackboard, though the handwriting came out a bit shaky. Students slowly started to file into the room, Other students filtered away over the next few minutes, and Mr. Quinlan eventually shut the door.

The classroom was terribly quiet. The only sound was the muted rustling of bags, and the squeaking of Mr. Quinlan's chalk on the board. He may as well have been drawing stick figures, considering how many people were looking at it. The room's attention was all on Taylor, and Taylor was quietly imploding.

She needs my help, Amy decided. Maybe this makes me a bad person, but I want this to work out. I want her to be happy.

Amy connected with Taylor's electricity, siphoning off as much fear and doubt as she could shoulder. She felt like she might burst into tears, and it got even worse after she offloaded most of her confidence into Taylor. It took all Amy had to not run sobbing out of the room. She gripped the edges of her seat until her knuckles went white and it was digging into her skin. Bear it. You can bear it.

Meanwhile, Taylor stood up. "Yes! Fine! I have wings. Surprise! You can all look somewhere else, now."

Varying reactions swept over the room. Fear. Guilt. Annoyance. Most tore their gaze away from her, trying to focus on anything else. Probably still thinking about Taylor, just not looking directly at her. Good enough, Amy supposed.

As class went on and her anxiety went down, Amy slowly undid her emotional fiddling and severed the connection. Things drifted into a crude approximation of normal, after that. Normal, that is, until Mr. Quinlan left class half an hour early. No one seemed especially surprised by this, which was weird.

The students were left to their own devices, and slowly but surely their attention turned back to Taylor. Amy scooted her chair closer to her, defensively. No one said anything, at first. The more distant students carried on whispered conversations, but the ones nearer to Taylor seemed reluctant to voice their questions.

"Can you fly?" asked an awkward-looking blonde boy a few seats in front of them.

Taylor blinked. "I – I don't – I don't know," she stuttered heavily. "I haven't tried yet."

"Are you a Ward?" another guy asked, from further away.

Taylor shook her head.

And then the questions tumbled out of their mouths rapidly, like a dam bursting.

"What's up with those holes? Do they–"

"You part of a gang? I've got friends–"

"What's your name, again? Sorry, I for–"

"How'd you get your powers? How can I–?"

Taylor looked dizzy, trying to look at all of the people asking her questions, unable to answer one question before the next drowned her out. The whole classroom was staring at her, now. People were standing up and walking over, gathering around the corner and unintentionally walling her in. Taylor kept shrinking away, looking like she wanted to escape, or turn invisible. The questions just kept coming, ignorant of her obvious discomfort.

"Oh, shut up!" Amy leapt to her feet, her chair scraping the ground loudly.

For the first time, the crowd's attention fell on her. She wavered, but only for a moment. Then she hardened herself, thinking of Carol. Amy met the students' gazes with a cold, unforgiving glare of her own.

"Who are you?" asked a dark-haired girl. "I've never seen you before."

"Amy. Her friend." Amy scowled, then gripped Taylor's hand, pulling her to her feet. "We're going to the bathroom. If any of you follow us there..." Amy trailed off with a dangerous expression, leaving the threat unspecified. She couldn't let anyone know about her powers, obviously. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

She led Taylor out of the room, then let Taylor lead her to the closest bathroom. Amy reached out behind them with her aura, just in case. She was right to check, as it turned out. A few of the students from the classroom had ignored Amy's words, and were following from a distance.

Amy formed an electrical link with both them and Taylor, then redirected some of Taylor's self-doubt and anxiety into the over-curious students. Amy did her best to keep it subtle, so they would think it was their own feelings. They stopped following, after that, and Amy severed the connection once she and Taylor had gotten to the bathroom.

As soon as they got there, Taylor ran into an open bathroom stall and closed it behind her, walling herself off from the world. Most of the other stalls were empty, but not all. Amy could hear Taylor sniffling.

"It'll get easier," Amy whispered, trying to find a balance between quiet and audible enough for Taylor to hear. "I promise."

And then there was the sound of a stall door opening. Not Taylor's, though. Out of one of the other stalls walked a short girl with shoulder-length brown hair. Amy examined her, very briefly. Thin, small. Cute, but not really Amy's type.

"I can't do this," Taylor sobbed. "It's so much – I can't, I –"

The brown-haired girl glanced towards the stall, with a hint of recognition in her expression. She smiled, then washed her hands quickly, before racing out of the bathroom.

Weirdo, Amy thought.

Amy did her best to console Taylor through the door, but Taylor barely responded. Other people came and went, giving Amy odd expressions when they saw her standing there. Amy met the visitors with a challenging look, and they quickly left. Soon enough, the bathroom was left empty except for Amy and Taylor.

Amy was debating lightening Taylor's emotional load again, but then someone else entered the bathroom. Amy turned to look.

To Amy's surprise, it was a girl that she actually recognized. The Amazing Red-Headed Bitch. Amy forgot her name. She was attractive, but also a clear bitch, so Amy didn't bother thinking much else about her. Following after The Red-Headed Bitch was a taller black girl. She was muscular, confident, and lean. Hot, basically.

Taylor mumbled something that Amy didn't quite catch, and the two girls instantly looked towards the stall. An unpleasant grin flashed across the taller girl's face. A somewhat smaller one echoed in the Red-Headed Bitch's face. The hot girl walked over, but slowed when Amy didn't move out of the way.

"Do you need to go, or not?" The attractive girl grimaced. "What the hell are you just standing around for?"

As soon as she spoke, Taylor's breath caught, and she went silent.

The girls smirked again. They barely noticed Amy as anything more than an impediment. They kept glancing at the stall, thinking.

Planning.

A lot of things suddenly clicked, and Amy began to understand the situation.

She leaned towards them, crossing her arms. There was no hesitation, here, no little doubts to get in her way. She simply reached out with her aura and connected to the girls' electrical impulses.

This is going to be fun.

"Pleased to meet you," Amy announced, with a smile. "I'm Amy."