Chapter 15: Under the Microscope

Being a superhero came with tons of neat perks. Being a superhero with no mask put your life under a microscope.

People wanted to every single bit about me and yeah, I learned to love the attention, but I also learned to a) keep my private life private and b) protect my sanity from the bullshit people conjured up. Part of growing up in a family that was always under the spotlight.

At least I could be an ordinary popular high school student at Arcadia instead of being hounded every day by paparazzo or whatever scum floated past the refuse. That went double for Amy, except she wasn't usually recognized if she was out of costume and wasn't with me. Until today, that is.

Her heroics last night captured the imagination, and plenty of people – classmates, acquaintances, friends, even a couple of teachers – asked both me and her how Amy could transform trees and make flame-devouring seeds. Most of Arcadia didn't get to see how amazing Panacea was, so I was more than happy to gush about her powers, how cool she was under pressure.

Then I was asked how I felt about Amy's growth and I started wondering how Amy was coping with all the extra attention. My guess was not that well. Amy was immune to praise and didn't like the spotlight. I couldn't blame her: those watchful eyes and attentive ears did get overbearing.

Fortunately, barely anyone approached us during lunch, just Chelsea. She balked when I told her to get her news from the source. Then she went ahead and did it. I left them to it, joining Dean and his friends at their regular spot: a pair of maple benches – yes, maple, courtesy of a hefty donation from one S. James Stansfield – set around a maple table close to the canopy at the edge of the courtyard, but not so close that the dense foliage could shroud the spring sun.

Conversation was light, a nice change of pace. I didn't hang out with Dean's friends as often as I'd like. When our break-ups happened, it got awkward. So did bringing Amy along. A couple of Dean's buddies were dudes I tried to set Amy up with once upon a time, but the other two – Dennis and Carlos – weren't.

"Did you always know Amy was basically Captain Planet, Vicky?" Dennis asked. I narrowed my eyes. "Sorry. I meant Queen Victoria, Best of Her Name."

"Damn straight," I said. Sure, Dennis was Dean's best friend and definitely a heroic guy, but I didn't know him like that. So I sat up properly, back straight, legs tucked in, chin pointed out. "Now that you have addressed me with my proper title, I shall provide you with the answer you seek. I was always aware of Amy's vast potential, but she went beyond my lofty expectations."

"Hey, you won't see me complaining," Dennis replied. He put a hand on his heart and bowed, but couldn't hack it because he was too stiff, like a robot. "My merry thanks, your grace, for answering my humble question regarding the Crown Princess of the Realm New Wave."

Someone was laying it on a bit thick. Still, I gave him a properly dignified smile. "You're quite welcome, Dennis. Perhaps you can serve as a jester in my court, or be assigned the role of royal time keeper."

Carlos was holding his ribs, busting out an honest-to-God belly laugh. Dean chuckled, always composed. The other two were bewildered. Which I totally got: the depths of my greatness stunned me. I contained multitudes.

"Can he even keep time?" Amy asked. Dean scooted over, giving my sister enough space to sit.

"I wish!" Dennis said. "But hey, new or old, your powers are pretty cool."

"You're not wrong."

Just like last night, Amy actually reacted positively. It was a far cry from the frigid emptiness screaming at people who dared to thank her for saving their lives. Maybe one day, she'd be able to accept that it was good and right to acknowledge every kind of gratitude she was given.

"What happened to Chelsea?" I asked.

Amy shrugged. "She got what she wanted, I guess."

I found her standing on one of the benches, regaling Amy's exploits to anyone who'd listen.

"Wow," Dennis said. "Can't believe you broke up with her, Carlos!"

Carlos smiled with near-perfect white teeth. "We're on different wavelengths. It's nothing personal."

"That's a mature outlook," Dean said. "An inspiration, in fact."

Right. She took getting dumped well, but I bet Chelsea would be singing a different tune if she discovered Carlos' secret.

"She's a handful," Amy muttered. "It makes total sense why she's friends with Victoria."

I snorted. "Duh. We're two peas in a pod."

"It also makes sense that Amy isn't limited to healing," Carlos said. Guess he wanted a change in subject. "If you can manipulate people's cells one way, you can do it the other way, and if you can do it to humans, why can't you manipulate plants or even animals?"

"Don't call it manipulation," Amy snapped.

Carlos raised his hands, still smiling even though Amy nearly killed the mood. "My bad. The important thing is that you're expanding what you can do. If you're not adapting, you're missing out."

"I agree," Dean said, smiling warmly. "This could really be a healthy outlet for you, Amy. Painters paint, musicians sing, and you can make plants dance."

I covered my mouth, stifling a laugh as Amy rolled her eyes.

"I never understood the logic of heroes holding back their powers," one of Dean's friends said. Ben. He had brown hair and a bad case of helmet head. "If you're saving lives, shouldn't you be using everything you have at your disposal?"

"We do," I said. "And Amy's already saved more lives than any of us. If she wants to try something new, that doesn't take anything away from what she's done so far."

Ben frowned. "No offense? I can't believe she didn't do this ages ago."

"She's doing it now, so you can –"

"It's OK, Victoria," Amy said. In spite of her calm cadence, her good mood was seconds from evaporating. "I can do more, so much more, but..."

"But all any hero can do is their best, Ben," Dean said, and from the tone of his voice, he wasn't only saying this to Ben.

Ben flinched, looking at his calloused hands. "I don't think it's making much difference."

"Says the guy who rides to school on the latest Harley," Dennis said, frowning.

"So what, he can't talk about crime because his parents are well-off?" Dean's other friend, Peter, asked – curly black hair, flannel, expensive necklace.

Dennis clicked his tongue. "He can talk all he wants, but when was the last time either of you had to report a crime to the police? I know: never."

If anything, that only made Ben dig in his heels, meeting Dennis' heated glare head-on. "So what? I check the news and I see some small-time crooks getting arrested while Bakuda's free to go on another bombing spree. If that's not enough, Purity gets to fly around saving people from the ABB or The Merchants like she hasn't killed hundreds of innocent people. How can any hero be proud of that just because one part of town is safe?"

Amy was wilting, and Dennis was seconds away from ranting. As for me? Believe it or not, I got where he was coming from. It wasn't fair that criminals could just... walk away from their crimes like it never happened. Not all of them did, but the ones who could were either slippery as all get out or scary, dangerous monsters. We were outnumbered, too, but did Ben grasp that?

"Enough," Carlos said. His features had hardened, but not literally. "You're not wrong, Ben, but the heroes work day in and day out to save lives. That's what I see when I check the news: good people trying to make a difference because they aren't satisfied with the status quo. One day, every part of Brockton Bay will be safe, but that takes time, and crime never rests."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Dean said. Neither could I.

Ben nodded, breathing out of his nose. "Fair enough. Dennis, no hard feelings?"

"None whatsoever," Dennis said. "Believe me, I don't want this, either."

"Who does, other than the villains?" Peter asked.

After that, the conversation was pulled away from heroes and crime. Part of me wondered if Ben and Peter knew that they were the only two people in our group that weren't capes. While I couldn't speak for the other guys, Dean was fairly secretive at the best of times. Speaking of Dean, he wanted to talk before the bell rang, so he took me to over to the canopy. Once again, we had enough privacy to make out.

"Did you talk to your aunt?" Dean asked.

So much for PDA. Shit.

I folded my arms. "Yes, Dean. I told her everything."

Dean sighed. Was he relieved? "That's great news. You two did the right thing."

He just had to mention the elephant in the room, and what made it worse was that he didn't even see it. I'd just have to show him the light.

"About that. I spoke to my aunt on my own."

The cool thing about admitting my mistakes was that it got easier every time, but Dean wasn't impressed by my candor. In fact, he could barely contain his frustration.

"Tell Amy what you did," he said, enunciating each word carefully. "Why would you even do this without her?"

"Because if I bring her with me, she'd make excuses and cover my ass. I had to do this on my own."

"And you didn't tell her because... ?"

"I was going to tell her, but the moment was never right." I puffed out my lips. "This isn't even a secret. How many secrets has Amy kept from me?"

He grit his teeth. "That's different, and you know it. She's part of this, so she deserves to be included."

I wanted to be flippant, but yeah, he got me there. Was I gonna admit it? Not today.

"Did you know Amy was experimenting with her powers?"

A frown pulled at his lips, but he knew better than to argue over a moot point. "Not really. She hinted at it the other day, but I didn't pry. Your sister has a right to privacy, Victoria."

Of course she did, but I told her everything. Why couldn't she do the same for me? I knew Amy was struggling to let anyone in, but I assumed that if anyone would be the exception, it wouldn't be Dean or my dad, it would be me.

"I know. And don't worry, I'll tell her." I let go of myself, loosening up. "I don't want to screw this up for her, Dean. I've rarely... No, I've never seen her this happy."

"Neither have I. But you're right about one thing: she should trust you more. As long as you're not convincing her to break the law, of course."

I smiled, wryly. "Amy's no lawbreaker. She's the real deal."

Dean's frown began to fade. "Let's hope it stays that way."

It would, because Amy wasn't the problem, she was just my solution. Honestly, I could've spent hours talking to Dean if we didn't get caught in an argument, but there was only a couple of minutes before the bell. I had to make the most of our time together.

"Are you still talking to that bug girl?"

Dean's brow furrowed. "We're keeping in touch."

My throat tightened. "Good. She needs a friend."

"She needs more than that," he said, but he didn't spill the details. I wouldn't force him.

"Can you help her?" I asked. "Please?"

Dean nodded, slow. "I already am."

I grabbed both his hands, desperate for his soothing touch, seeking comfort deep in his glittering emerald eyes. "Thank you. You're a great guy, Dean. If you could help her like you've helped Amy and I, it'd make a real difference."

His frown returned, just before a smile could blossom. "I'm only helping you so you take responsibility, not so you can come up with an alibi. Understand?"

"Of course I do."

Dean entwined his fingers around mine. "Good."

When the time was right, I'd ask him to help us find Firefly, so we could give her the best apology in the history of apologies. Now that he was taking care of Firefly, I could focus on bettering myself and helping Amy, one step at a time. That was the best way forward.

The only way I knew.

After school, I flew Amy over to Brockton General before I headed over to Brockton U. Hearing that Bakuda's vendetta against academia nearly vandalized such a prestigious place of learning really rankled, but spite was one hell of a drug. That was just another reason why she had to be taken out.

With that resolve burning through my soul, it was easier to overcome my fear of Amy's reaction and reveal my not-so secret meeting with Aunt Sarah.

"Great job," Amy said.

Did I hear her properly, or was my mind just playing tricks on me?

"Thanks?"

I stared at her, totally dumbfounded, but she only smiled.

"It's your story to tell, not mine. Now, Sarah knows, so we're one step closer to making actual amends."

A smile of my own blossomed on my face. "That's right, Ames."

Well, that was a relief.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually looking forward to my shift," Amy said. "Blocking out the noise is a lot easier inside the hospital. So many questions."

"Don't forget, they're on your side and if they're not, well, fuck 'em."

Amy snorted. "Tell that to the folks asking if I can make green lanterns or turn their dog's fur pink. Who comes up with this crap?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. By the way, can you turn my hair blue? I'd ask Janice, but since you're here..."

She smirked. "Sure, I'll turn your hair blue. When pigs fly."

I grinned. "Wait right here!"

"Stop," Amy said, on the verge of giggles. "You're fine just the way you are."

"Aww."

"I said fine, not perfect."

"Aww," I whined. "And here I was thinking we'd go on another patrol after your shift, but if you're like that..."

Amy rolled her eyes. "And puff up your inflated ego? Please." She sighed. "As much as I'd like to go on patrol with you, I'm waiting on permission from the city to restore a public park. You'd think they'd expedite that for me, but there's so much red tape that their hands are tied."

I smiled. Someone was ambitious. "Maybe Mom could help you out?"

Amy was stone-faced. Silent, for so long I began to sweat a little.

"Did you forget what happened this morning?" she finally said.

"I remember."

We barely avoided Mom going on the warpath thanks to Dad's timely intervention. Lucky Amy. Lucky us. We couldn't hide forever, though. Mom was waiting for us at dinner and Dad had tucked in for an early night.

"You've been quite busy," Mom said. "I want to know what caused this change and I want to hear it from you. Now."

Amy swallowed the gulp of pasta that she'd just put in her mouth. The fork wobbled before she pulled it out, eyes wider than headlights on a truck. Last time Mom put Amy on the spot, she made her cry. It wouldn't happen again.

"I wasn't doing enough as a healer," Amy said. "I thought I could do more, so I did."

Mom frowned, but it didn't have its freezing chill. "You've had two years to realize this."

Amy scowled, but smothered it. "I was being... stubborn. Now, I know that I was wrong to hold myself back."

She nodded, taking a sip of water, really savouring it. Amy didn't squirm as Mom turned her lawyer gaze on.

"Will you continue healing people?"

Amy huffed. "Why would I stop? I won't do brains, though."

Mom skewered her salmon with her fork, knuckles white. Amy looked up from her plate, but she was cool as an ocean breeze. How the tables turned.

"How could I forget? You have your code."

Amy winced, and so did I. I didn't like that Amy didn't do brains, but I wasn't going to trample over her beliefs. If Amy was going to change her mind, she had to be comfortable with the idea instead of being forced into it. Why did it take me so long to realize this? I was stubborn, too. Arrogant, inconsiderate of Amy's feelings and advice. I was a heartless, vile, pathetic excuse for a sister –

– who needed to get a grip.

"Got a problem with that?" Amy asked.

"Your strict adherence to your code is precisely what will prevent you from making mistakes. Don't be a –" Mom stopped herself, seething out a sigh. "My apologies. I was about to say something I'd regret."

Wow. That was new. Judging from her wary frown, Amy was fully expecting a verbal beatdown. Instead, she just nodded, eating more of her dinner. I dug into my meal, too, grateful for the impromptu intermission.

"It's not that simple," Amy eventually said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Very well," Mom replied, dismissive. Her gaze softened. "For the record, Amy, I am impressed with what you did last night. You're finally becoming your own hero."

Ugh, this again?

"Seriously, Mom?" I asked. "So what if she just started using more of her powers? Amy's always been a fantastic hero! You don't have to shit on her just because she isn't doing what you want her to do! Can't you give her one honest, straightforward compliment?"

Mom didn't look my way, but I knew she was listening because she tensed up. Amy was fighting back a smile.

"Do you agree, Amy?"

Amy shook her head. "Anyone could do what I could if they had my powers."

"You think Purity or Lung could heal people they don't know, for free?" I asked.

Mom neatly cut out a bite of her salmon, chewing it slowly. Enjoying her cooking, no doubt. It was one of those things she was really passionate about, self-sufficiency, cultivating your inner strength. If you couldn't cook your own food or clean your own clothes, you'd be shit out of luck if your provider was gone.

"I agree with Victoria. You made a decision to become a healer without being asked to, Amy. That is commendable. It's your priorities I'm concerned about."

"What priorities?" I asked.

Amy flinched. "Don't worry about it."

Mom just raised an eyebrow instead of actually talking. More secrets, right? Tch, I wasn't surprised. But what did Mom know that I didn't? I waited until Amy went to clean her plate to ask, but Mom was fuming.

"Who taught you to be so disrespectful, especially when you're defending someone else? It certainly wasn't me!"

My retort died on my tongue. She got me there.

"Nobody. I'm sorry, Mom."

"Apology accepted."

I smiled, finishing off the last bits of my dinner on my plate. There was a lot I could do before I went to bed, but I still had questions that needed answering.

"Thanks for being nice to Amy, Mom. Nicer, anyway."

Her eyes flickered to Amy before making contact with mine. "She's full of surprises. But if she wants a compliment, who am I to say no?"

As I went to dump my plate, Mom was still staring at her food, pensive. Perturbed. I left her there. Mom always dealt with her problems alone.