[Query. Confusion. Frustration.]
"I'd be very impressed if you got it on your first try, honestly."
[Query. Confusion. Frustration. Guidance?]
"Nope, we made a Binding Vow. So, unless you want to make another one, then you're on your own with this little hiccup."
[Disappointment. Frustration.]
"You may be overthinking this, honestly. Even I didn't get it right the first time. And this is a very human concept, I think. Or, at least, humans would probably understand it a lot better. You're just an alien supercomputer with weird powers."
[Confusion. Frustration.]
"Well, that's probably because you can't – or maybe don't – perceive emotion like humans do."
[Resignation. Agreement?]
"Hmm, give me full access to the Shard Network and I'll teach you. That said, it's not a guarantee that you'll gain mastery over it – greater understanding, maybe."
[Disagreement. Suggestion.]
"And now you're just making it difficult for yourself. But, you know what? My answer is no. I don't see any benefit in that for me."
[Understanding. Suggestion.]
"Hm... that could work. Aw, what the hell; it'll be fun, if nothing else. But we're gonna have to make a few tweaks there. Another Binding Vow, then?"
[Agreement.]
She never liked going to hospitals. She never liked the smell, the monotonous colors, the bleached atmosphere that felt almost nauseating. And, in Brockton Bay General Hospital, everything she hated seemed to have been dialed up to eleven; the smell of blood and medicine lingered heavily in the air. She wanted to puke the moment she stepped in. There were screams coming from somewhere down the hall and everywhere she looked there were people running about like headless chickens. Seated upon benches were... hundreds of people, family members, she figured, of the medical patients – men and women, old and young, some worried, some relaxed, many of them cried openly, others in silence, and a few were just... frozen in place, their faces still and solid like stone.
A part of her, an idiotic part, whispered a big great 'what if.'
What if the monster, Sukuna, was telling the truth? What if it could actually heal people? As far as Taylor was aware, Panacea was the only healing cape in Brockton Bay – at least, the only one with heroic inclinations. And, across the United States, healers were a once in a blue moon sort of thing. Maybe, she could be one too.
And, if that Binding Vow thing it mentioned worked anything like it said, then she'd just have to be very careful with her wording.
"This way," Officer Tom glanced at her from over his shoulder, a sad and resigned look on his face. And, there it was, the words that reminded her of what was at stake here – her father's life. She didn't know if the monster was somehow involved in the accident or if it was simple coincidence... but... it couldn't have been a simple coincidence. Sukuna, somehow, had to have been involved. He had to. That was the only way this would make sense. "Your father's in the ICU, alongside the other victims of the incident."
The officer's face fell and his eyes narrowed as he turned away. "As far as we're aware, there are hundreds of people who were heavily wounded. And dozens dead. All of this after the Winslow incident, where three hundred people died... makes me wanna move outta town and put this place behind me."
Taylor's breath hitched at the mention of the Winslow incident, the faces of all those who were cut down and reduced to little more than bloody cubes. Only Emma had a chance to scream and, even then, her scream lasted for half a second at most, before the rest of her was diced. Taylor wanted to puke right then and there, cold sweat trailing down the side of her face. Did the officer know? Did he suspect her? Did anyone suspect her?
Her mind raced, until she realized that, no, if she was a suspect, then someone would've come for her, already. She would've already been arrested. No, even before then, her face would've been plastered all over television. But, it wasn't. No one knew what caused the Winslow Incident. No one suspected her.
"Who were the capes?"
"Lung," Taylor knew that name – arguably one of the most powerful capes this side of America. Officer Tom continued. "Hookwolf and Storm Tiger."
"Here," Officer Tom gestured forth, before Taylor could speak or comment. He then turned and tapped her on the shoulder, once. Was that sympathy on his eyes? She didn't know.
Her breath hitched as she saw the name plate.
The first thing on Taylor's mind, the moment she saw her father, was, "Why isn't anyone helping him?"
She wanted to rage and cry out, to scream at someone for their incompetence. Her father was right there, heavily injured, and no one was fucking doing anything to help him!
But then she saw that there were hundreds of other patients and only a handful of doctors and nurses – outnumbered, heavily. And her heart sank even further as she walked up to him. Her dad was covered in bandages. She wouldn't have recognized him at all if it weren't for the officer's help. She also knew his height, size, and build rather well. And that was him. Tears fell from her eyes as she rushed forward, stopping just a few feet away from the hospital bed that held her father. There were various wires and tubes and machines attached to him. The constant, rhythmic beating of the EKG machine told her that his heart was still beating.
"Dad?" But he was asleep, unconscious. And, as she walked up to his bedside, Taylor realized that her father wouldn't be answering her anytime soon – or wake up. Not unless she did something or if Panacea miraculously walked through the doors and decided that, above every other patient in the entire hospital, her father was somehow more important. Taylor grit her teeth and her hands shook. Indecision gripped her. Seeing her father, like this, so close to death, broke her heart. She lost her mother. And now, she was gonna lose her father too. He hadn't been there most of them time, too caught up and lost in his grief to remember that he had a daughter, but he'd been there... that day... when he pulled her out of her own mind, out of the dark, and brought her home. "Dad..."
She couldn't just let him die.
Her dad was far from perfect, but he was the only dad she ever had and to lose both parents... Taylor would just lose herself. Panacea wasn't here. There weren't even any doctors or nurses attending to him. They'd do their best, Taylor was certain of that, but their best wouldn't be good enough to save him. A body-wide, third degree burn was a death sentence. He'd need immediate surgery, maybe skin grafts, and other things they definitely couldn't afford anyway. Taylor's eyes darkened and her head fell to the floor.
Rage and doubt and a long litany of curse words bounced around in her head. And, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, bottled up into a single moment, Taylor sighed, her shoulders slackening. "Can you really heal anyone, Sukuna?"
A grinning mouth appeared on her right cheek, where no one would see it. Taylor hoped that no one else would hear the monster's voice. Having to explain this sort of thing to the authorities sounded like an absolute nightmare. But she was lucky, now, that there were no doctors here and that Officer Tom had already turned and walked away. "Oh, took you long enough to ask. And, the answer is yes."
Taylor breathed in and held back the tears that'd gathered at the corners of her eyes as she stared at her father's unmoving form. Even if he recovered from this, Danny Hebert would essentially be disabled for life and Taylor knew her father would actually rather die than live on as a broken shell of a man. And she wouldn't want him to linger on in such a state, either; she'd kidnap and force Panacea to heal him before she allowed that to happen. But, if what Sukuna said was true, then she wouldn't have to do that. "Can you heal my father?"
"I promised you a single healing freebie," The monster, Sukuna said, still grinning. "Yes, I can heal him – quite easily, actually."
"What do I have to do?" Taylor wiped a tear from her eye and swallowed the lump in her throat. The very idea of making a deal with this monster left a bitterness in her mouth that lingered. She hated it. But she'd hate herself even more if there was a chance to save her father and she did not take it.
"Take his hand," The monster said, chuckling. "And close your eyes."
Reaching forward, Taylor grabbed her father's hand and intertwined her fingers with his, feeling the crusted and burnt skin, before she closed her eyes. Her father stirred. Skin contact must've been painful, but she didn't know. Something moved from inside her... like water or air, moving from her chest and flowing into her hand, like slick tar or thick ink. And, moving into her father from that hand, leaving behind a lingering sensation that was akin to throwing up, but from her skin – somehow.
She frowned. Taylor didn't know what it was, that thing that seemed to slither within her, but she knew how she felt as it moved and it did not feel good. She wanted to run to the nearest comfort room and puke out the emptiness in her stomach.
Sukuna's laughter echoed in her head. "You can open your eyes now, brat."
And she did. "Dad?"
"Taylor? Is that you?" His skin was back to normal. At least, the skin over the hand that she held. The rest of his body was still covered in bandages, including his face. He thrashed and broke apart some of the bandages around him, revealing the rejuvenated skin underneath. Taylor's breath hitched. Sukuna was telling the truth. Somehow, that monster had the power to heal people. "Taylor? What's going on? I can't see anything!"
"Dad, I'm here!" Taylor said, laying a hand on her father's shoulder, calming him down, somewhat. He did not calm down, but he did stop moving. Holding back the tears, Taylor leaned in and wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders. "Dad... I thought I was going to lose you."
"What? Why?" Her dad asked, breathing in and pulled away some of the bandages over his face. It must've been uncomfortable. "What happened? I don't... I don't remember."
"You saved a lot of people, dad," Taylor said. "And you got hurt, because of it. You're a hero."
"I... I did?" Her father asked. When Taylor pulled away, she saw that her father was frowning, brows narrowed as he absently pulled away a bunch of the bandages that covered his body. "I don't remember what happened."
"What's going on here?" A tired, dark-eyed doctor walked up to them, a white-haired woman with heavy eye-bags. She looked as though she hadn't slept for an entire week. She held up a notepad of some kind and frowned, her wrinkled face twisting in confusion. Taylor gulped. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to answer any of the questions that'd be thrown her way now. After all, she couldn't just claim to be housing a maniacal, psychopathic, mass-murdering, cannibalistic monster, could she? "Danny Hebert?"
She then turned to Taylor, her eyes narrowing. Finally, the doctor yawned and shrugged. "You a healing cape, like Panacea? I hope you made sure no one saw you."
"I- ugh," Taylor gulped again, before the doctor simply raised a hand.
"I don't care," She said, sighing exasperatedly as she turned and glanced at her father with a focused look in her eyes. "If you want to keep it a secret, that's up to you. I won't stand in your way. I don't care. Just let me give your father an overall, maybe figure out if your power did anything funny. And if I don't find anything, then he'll be discharged and I don't tell anyone anything if no one asks. Now, scoot over and let me do my job."
"That easily?" Taylor muttered as she stepped aside. The doctor stepped forward and began removing her father's bandages.
"The PRT might make a fuss, but..." The doctor said. "Honestly? If it makes my job easier, saves others, then I don't care. I'd celebrate it, even, if I had the energy. So, I'm going to make this quick. You're welcome to stay if you want to use that power of yours on the other patients here; just don't talk about it to anyone if you don't want to get in trouble."
"Okay..." Taylor nodded. And, right then and there, she was made aware of all the injured around her, all those who lingered in agony, and the fact that she could help them... if she really wanted to – if she bartered for a better deal, one that wouldn't end in tragedy. She turned to the doctor. "Which way to the bathroom?"
The doctor glanced at her and pointed. "Over there. Down the hall. Make a right. And you'll find it."
And Taylor ran as fast as she could, until she reached the bathroom. She walked in and found that no one else was inside. She was alone. Good. She walked up the nearest mirror, her eyes narrowing. She stared at her reflection. She could do this. She could outsmart him, figure out a deal that worked to her advantage. "How about we make a proper deal?"
And then, her reflection shifted, the frown turning into a grin, tattoos appearing all over her face, her eyes turning red. "I'm listening, brat."
