Chapter Three
Cladogenesis
Not even Dean could swipe away the growing rain cloud above her head. He tried, and she loved him for it, but no amount of shopping or partying made her forget she didn't have her usual brown, frizzy shadow. Her other friends tried with their jokes and platitudes and only succeeded in stretching the lunch period to infinity. Most of her teachers gave her a pass, except for Mr. Lanly, and expected little from her until the last class of the day ended and she sprinted to the exit.
Thankfully, she muted her phone preemptively, and only her eyes suffered from the three hundred billion notifications instead. She swiped the PHO notifications away for now and got to the text messages from her family. The four Pelhams had nothing to say but well wishes and notifications that they'd swing by the hospital after school or work, but her mother's really confused her.
Mom: You have school in the morning. Where are you?
Mom: Was Amy awake when you left this morning?
Mom: Is Amy at school with you?
She looked around momentarily, wondering if Amy had woken up at some point and gone to school despite waking up from a coma. Her eyes furrowed, and then she looked back to the messages.
Mom: The hospital called. Amy checked out at around 1 pm.
Okay, that was a good thing.
Mom: Against medical advice. She never called for a pick-up.
Okay, not a good thing, but hopefully, the staff and the PRT officers wouldn't have let her check out if something was drastically wrong with her. And she still had one more message to read.
Mom: Find your sister after school lets out.
Vicky: K
She rocketed up to the sky, soaring over the downtown area and keeping an eye out for a wandering teenager. Sure, Mom, that was an easy task. Find one teenager on a Tuesday afternoon after all three Brockton schools let out in the middle of downtown. Hey, power, now's the perfect time for a Tinker upgrade for information gathering.
Checking Amy's usual coffee haunts revealed no clues, Amy not sitting in any of them and the baristas not seeing anyone matching her likeness. The Boardwalk got a couple of quick fly-byes to avoid any gathered fans, but Amy wasn't at Fugly's, and she never went shopping without a dozen reminders and prods. She needed a wardrobe upgrade beyond her costume.
Then she even tried the downtown library, terrifying the workers at the front desk as she barreled through the doors and spent the next minute reeling in her aura from the mounting panic and trying to explain she was looking for her sister. They hadn't seen her either and she bit her knuckles in frustration, looking down at the time and trying not to imagine Amy wandering the city with the setting sun.
Vicky: Are you okay?
Vicky: Do you need help?
Vicky: Mom's freaking out. She said you checked out of the hospital
Vicky: Where are you?
Vicky: I'm flying over the city, please get back to me
She hoped Amy would respond to her soon. Eventually, she sat dejectedly on the top of Medhall, staring down the streets and wondering where Amy had scurried away and why she was ignoring her until her phone chimed.
Amy: In the Conservatory
She was in the conservatory? That was almost all the way back home, and she had walked over there? In the middle of winter? While recovering from whatever knocked her out?
A 50% sale at Hot Topic couldn't get her moving faster, a blonde bolt breaking through the gray skies and flying over to the estate near Captain's Hill. Amy used to love coming here before her trigger, but she couldn't see the appeal. Everything was dull and dead except a patch of dandelions on the main footpath and a massive wall of vines covering the central greenhouse she distinctly remembered throwing Hookwolf through just last week.
A wise old grandpa greeted her with a smile before it dissolved into a genial indifference once he recognized her, and she doubted he was close to forgiving her for throwing a massive steel wolf through his building. Her ears still rung from the dressing down she got after that patrol for her lack of situational awareness and the potential lawsuit against New Wave.
"Uh, hi. I'm looking for my sister Amy. She texted me that she was here?" She scratched the back of her head, nervously chuckling.
"You'll need a day pass." She tried to look anywhere except directly at him. He and Arcadia's VP were apparently related because they both had the exact same look of disappointment whenever someone screwed up.
"So she's here? Great!" She ate the admission fee and he beckoned her to follow, passing through a cordoned-off area and into a brightly lit greenhouse. A somewhat large group of people gathered around a figure she disregarded and then did a doubletake on.
That was her sister.
Her sister that didn't look like she just crawled out of a coma.
Her sister that hated speaking to crowds.
Her sister that blatantly used her powers in public and grew a sapling from nothing but a seed.
"Amy?" Her head snapped in her direction, and she noticed a faint sheen of green tinting her sclera. It quickly faded away, pulling with it the iridescent purple and red swimming in her brown irises. She gave her a wide smile she hadn't seen in months, standing from her seat.
"Victoria." Uh oh. Amy never used her full name unless she screwed up somehow, and she couldn't quite remember what she did this time around. An issue for later however. She pushed through the congregation of people to wrap her in a hug for all she was worth for putting her through all the stress of searching the city and worrying for her.
Amy, however, had a different idea, raising her re-gloved hand in panic. "Stop!" And she screeched to a halt mid-air, floating in place and confusion. She inspected the people she blew past, declaring them fit with minimal bruising. "I'm sorry to ask, but could we have some privacy?" She sounded so much older, standing proud rather than curling in on herself with her costume and downcast eyes.
The grandpa laughed kindly, "After your repairs, Miss Amelia, we may just rename the wing after you." He waved everyone out of the greenhouse, and she suddenly realized everyone had seen her hanging in the air, a few inches away from Amy's hand. And he had called her Amelia?! Not Amy or even Panacea?! What was up with that? And did he say she had repaired the damage she caused?
"So, Amelia, huh? When did that change?" Vicky started, mindful of the distance Amy created.
"Amy seemed too juvenile." And Vicky didn't know where to take it from that, her sister not moving from her seat for a hug or offering the seat next to her.
"Are you… okay?"
"I'm fine." Came the practiced and measured response and she couldn't exactly call bullshit on her this time, her makeup hiding the worst of the shadows under her eyes and her trademark coffee nervous tick sleeping peacefully.
"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional." At Amy's quizzical tilt of the head, she explained. "It's an Aerosmith song. You know, a mnemonic. So come on, what's really up? How're you feeling?"
"I really am fine for the first time in years." Amy rolled her eyes, and Vicky finally saw a hint of the caustic ball of sarcasm.
"Because fine people fall into unexplained comas." Amy gave a slight grin at the retort.
"Come now, a coma a day keeps the nightmares at bay." Her grin grew wider. "I'm currently monitoring my vitals and cells and I'm perfectly healthy. Although I did have to scrub my lungs clean from all the smoking and reboot my kidneys and liver from all the coffee."
Vicky's thoughts ground to a halt. "Since—. You broke through the Manton Limit?"
"Yup! Watch!" Amy's brown eyes suddenly burst into a kaleidoscope of colors before returning to her standard brown. Her freckles disappeared and reappeared in different spots in a completely different color palette, some glowing bright blue and others strobing softly. "Pretty cool, right?"
"Ames, that's amazing!" Again, she tried to rush over to her excitedly and received a steadfast hand blocking her route. "Okay, seriously. What's with this no hugging thing? You love my hugs." Her eyes narrowed. "Quick! Master/Stranger protocols!"
"Really?" Amy gestured to the various plants she grew around her, but Vicky nodded anyway. "The first words I ever spoke to you were: I've never had a big sister before. Of course, this was a few days after a fairly traumatic night, so that memory might not be entirely accurate."
"I barely remember that. You remember that?" Her eyes bugged out.
"I was six, not three." She shrugged. "Kinda hard to forget Brandish threatening me with a lightsaber. Really ruined Aleph's Star Wars series for me."
"She did WHAT?" The windows rattled from her screech, her control over her aura fraying. It slammed into Amy with the force of Behemoth, and instead of dissipating against her as she claimed, a cocoon of roots erupted from the trees and ground. A pair of tired eyes peered through the fresh foliage, watching for any twitch indicating another attack. She wrenched her aura under control, letting worry suffocate the growing rage, mumbling under her breath before addressing her, "I'm gonna need to talk to Mom later. Sorry about the aura. Trying to work on it."
"That's… okay. It wasn't directed at me." Despite the gloves, the plants still disintegrated into flakes of fertilizer. Amy revealed a lonely branch snaking into her boots as if reading her thoughts.
"I thought my aura didn't affect you?"
"And if I admitted it affected me?" she posed, and Vicky sat in the air in rapt contemplation. "Carol would've shipped me away to the orphanage, and I wasn't about to get separated from the first person to show me kindness since they adopted me."
"So... you've always felt my aura and never said anything?"
"Everyone else in the family was fine with it, and as long as you maintained control of it, no one complained."
"But no one spends as much time with me as you do! Are you sure it hasn't messed you up somehow?" And then she saw it, just a small chink in her armor, her eyes darting away to the side before meeting her's again. She sat forward mid-air, not advancing and watching her gloved hands warily. "It did, didn't it."
Amy hesitated, eyebrows furrowing. "Not to the extent you think." She removed a glove, and a comfortable lounge chair grew in front of her, a thick bed of moss crawling over the bark for her leisure. Vicky reclined in it at the speed of sound, grateful for the offer that finally bridged the gap between them. "Your aura never affected me directly. I used to think it did, but that's a different topic. No, what it did was divert any friendly attention from me to you. Why befriend the bookish medic when perfection personified stood beside her?"
"Oh, Ames. I never realized. I'm so sorry."
"I never blamed you, you dolt!" Vicky filed away that peculiar expression for dissection later. "Of course, that was only for part of high school. The rest of the time before your trigger was Carol's abysmal parenting. Could never hang out after school with the few friends I used to have or go out to the library because every time she looked at me, she saw Marquis all over again."
"Your dad was Marquis?" Amy looked at her weirdly. "Holy shit! That explains so much."
"Huh, I thought you knew."
"About your adoption, sure. Not the Marquis part. I'm really gonna have to talk to Mom later." She reached over, touched her knee comfortably, expecting her to flinch away, and got a loopy grin. "Is the touching the other thing about my aura? Getting too close?"
"Oh no. That's a privacy thing." She shrugged, replacing her glove. "I can learn everything about a person with just a touch. It's quite invasive. I don't need to know what someone ate or when they last had their menstrual cycle." Vicky made a face like she just reached into a garbage bin and found something squishy.
"Eww, cool, but still eww." She cleared the thoughts with a shake of her head. "So, the other thing?"
Amy's face contorted into a grimace before she sighed and met her gaze. "I used to blame it for my massive gay crush on you."
After that, Vicky could hear the butterflies flap in the greenhouse; hell, she could hear the trees breathing. "Oh." She finally focused back on Amy. "Ooohh."
"Yeah…" Amy finished lamely.
"Wait, does that mean that every time Dean sensed your envy, it was directed at him?" Confusion overtook Amy's features. "Wait, I've been setting you up with dudes this entire time, and you're gay? And you never told me?! Amy?!"
"That's what you took from that?"
"I mean, you're a little weird for that, but I'm not gonna love you any less." Amy sagged in her seat, hair falling forward and shading her face. Vicky surged forward and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently, for a Brute. "But do YOU realize I've spent the last two years failing to get you a BOYfriend because I never realized you wanted a GIRLfriend!" She stopped her shaking, noticing the tears welling from her eyes. "Ames?"
"I…" She didn't know what she did wrong. Was it because she called her 'a little weird'? Or because she grabbed her too hard? Never did she expect to see her crying, of all things. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd seen her sniffle, let alone cry. "Can you please let go?"
She recoiled, struck by lightning, retreating to her chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"No!" Amy shut her down. "That wasn't it. I… just never expected this reaction from you. In every scenario, you'd be disgusted or disown me, or Carol would throw me out or send me to the Birdcage." She scratched at her shoulder briefly. "But never… this… normalcy?"
"Oh, Amy. I'm not disgusted, but do you realize I have to find you someone who'll compete with me? Tall, blonde, gorgeous, parahuman —"
"Humble?" Vicky blew a raspberry at her, and her face lit back up. They could save the heavier talk for later. Much, much later, preferably after she yelled at their mom and dad for screwing her up for so long. Almost maiming a six-year-old with her abilities? Seriously mom? That was fucked up six ways to Sunday. Of course, when Carol scared Amy into never leaving the house or finding her own way in the world, Amy ended up crushing on her. Amy poked her in the cheek. "Aura."
She grunted and reeled it back in. "I'll get better at it. I promise."
"I'll hold you to that." Amy nodded and stood, stretching her back and grunting at the satisfying pops. "C'mon. I've fixed everything I could here and need to return to the hospital." Vicky followed her out, hiding behind her when passing by the Director to avoid his death glare.
Amy petted her hair sardonically.
"Where's your coat?" Vicky asked when they made their way outside, zipping her jacket up.
"Biotinker~" Amy wiggled her fingers, pulling a huff from the bundled Glory Girl. The sun barely shone above the lowest buildings, disappearing behind the hills outside the city limits.
"Hacks." Vicky sniffled and held her arms out. "Alright, hop on. I'll get you there in a few seconds."
"Carrying me bridal style?" Amy joked, and her face lit up red. "Should I tell Dean he has competition? Besides, it's a nice night and the snow's not too bad. We can walk."
"You–" Vicky groaned, slapping her forehead. "I'm not winning against this improved Amy, aren't I?"
"You never stood a chance." She chuckled and never looked back, Vicky jogging to catch up. "When's the last time you walked anywhere? You're gonna get fat if you fly everywhere."
"I have you to magic that away."
"Thanks for the ammunition. Now I can get you to do anything! Fufufufu." Her evil chuckle echoed through the quiet streets.
Vicky lasted only two minutes as they walked silently, constantly looking up at the darkening sky or around them as they made their way through Empire territory.
"This is so slow."
"This is normal, Miss Alexandria-lite."
"I'm gonna die of old age by the time we make it. Save me!" She swooned into Amy's arms, shrieking in surprise when she met nothing but air and barely managed to avoid slamming into the concrete. "You witch!"
"In a few days after I cheat my muscle mass, I'll easily lift you over my shoulders. For now, I'm lucky I can carry my bag. IV drip has nothing useful other than the bare minimum to keep someone alive." She offered her a hand, pulling her from her hover to a stand again. They stood there for a few seconds in the swirling snow, Amy gazing longingly at their connected hands before letting go and starting their walk again.
"Amy," she brokered and got no response. "Amy," she tried again and got nothing. "Amelia!" she roared, and the girl stopped, beaming at her.
"You used my name."
"You know you can hold my hand if you want." She gestured to the hand she kept clasped between her arm and body for worry it might sneak away.
"I don't need that temptation." The smile disappeared.
"I'm offering to hold your hand as your sister, you idiot." She deadpanned, Amy blandly blinking back at her outstretched hand.
However, she eventually reached over and wrapped hers around a finger instead of taking her hand entirely. A sliver of tension left her shoulders, a familiar warmth returning as they continued walking until they reached a grocery store.
Amy slipped away for ten minutes, leaving her at the front and returning with various fruits and veggies. She started chowing down on them, handing off the bag, and ordering Vicky to keep handing them over. They had to adjust their walking position. Vicky held the bag with one hand and kept a finger stuck out for Amy while the smaller girl inhaled everything from chestnuts to oranges and kiwis.
"Biomass," Amy answered before Vicky could think of speaking her question. "I'm breaking everything down into raw cells I can assign to anything from increasing my bone density to creating a subdermal mesh under my skin, although right now, most of it will replace what I lost in the coma." She sagely nodded. "Frankly, with how little my costume protects me, I think Carol expected me to die at some point in an Endbringer attack."
"You really don't like our– my mom, do you?" Good point on the costume. With how important she was to Brockton Bay not devolving into a murdery open war, maybe keeping their one healer protected warranted more than cotton.
"She needs a hard reality check from her black-and-white worldview, but I'm happy to stay away from her as long as she does the same for me."
"That's kinda hard to do, seeing as we all live together." Amy shook her head.
"Just watch how she treats me when we get back for dinner." She tugged at their hand sharply to nail her point home. "And don't interfere. Just watch."
"Hmmm."
Amy let her be after that, munching on her snacks. Vicky didn't mind the silence this time. The coma invariably changed her sister, Amy waking up far more confident to the point she semi-jokingly requested their secret identification phrase that even New Wave knew nothing about, and after confirming that, she better understood the massive weight on her shoulders, if only slightly. Her mom, overbearing as she might be for her, was a far more enormous shadow standing over Amy than she ever thought, and overhearing her concern at the hospital only added to the gnawing doubt sitting heavy on her heart.
So if Amy wanted to rebel loudly, then it was up to her to support her, no matter the fallout, because even just the short hour she spent at the greenhouse needling her for answers resulted in her walking with her head held high, unburdened by her biotinkering, her name, her adoption, her reaction to her aura, and most importantly, her odd but not so strange crush on her.
Carol and the rest of the adults in New Wave had much to answer for.
Amy's coma knocked something loose for the better and woke her up from her little dreams with Dean and their high school romance. God, she never noticed anything the entire time, Amy quietly receding from the public eye and into a defensive shell. And now that only made her feel so much worse.
Fuck, that even explained why Amelia never bothered tinkering with any other organic matter, masquerading as a biostriker the entire time. Sure, the PRT had a very adverse reaction to them, Director Piggot having survived Ellisburg and Nilbog. However, she could reason with them, Amy having done nothing since her trigger but heal people, answering Endbringers even. And if she were right, Carol would've taken the chance to lock her in the 'Cage without so much as a goodbye, screaming about the second coming of Marquis. She didn't want to believe her mom could write her off so quickly, but this was Amy in the end, the girl who took the time after waking from a coma to fix her mistakes before heading right back to the hospital.
Hell, she probably leeched excess cells or biomass or whatever she called it to speed her healing up, winter decimating the city's native plant life. Suddenly, batting for the other team seemed very small.
The mystery of Amelia stretched beyond the quiet healer everyone knew.
The hospital nurses seemed more surprised than anything to see her walking in from the cold, probably expecting her to be still laid up in intensive care after her coma scare. Still, Amy waved at them, which smoothed away their concerns.
Without asking for directions, Amy led them over to the elevator banks. She shot them up to a random floor, pulling her along to a section of the hospital cordoned off with yellow tape marked biohazard everywhere. A middle-aged man sat just before the line, nervously tapping his foot while sipping coffee.
"Mr. Hebert?" He snapped from his funk at Amy's question, putting the demons plaguing his thoughts away from the moment.
"Yes?"
"I'm Amelia Claire," Vicky squeezed her hand at that change, but Amy didn't stutter. "You may know me better as Panacea. Is your daughter awake?"
"No, um, no one's told me anything. Are you here to heal her?" His tone had that desperate edge she associated with every parent worried about their child. A small voice wondered if Carol had that same edge when Amy collapsed.
"If she's not awake, I'll need your permission to heal her using my parahuman abilities."
"Yes. Please. Anything for her."
"Thank you. May Victoria come with us? This will likely take some time, and I don't want to leave her alone outside." He nodded. "I'll enter first to neutralize any airborne contaminants, but please stay clear from her bed even after."
Amelia went through the airlock first, disregarding the clean suits, and waited for the pressurized air to cycle before fearlessly striding into the room. She lost sight of her after that but going by the grimace, whoever put this girl in a biohazard clean room was on her shit list. Another couple of minutes passed in agonizing silence; both kept quiet as they watched her walk around the room and stick her tongue out, tasting the air for viruses.
Pretty cool ability to be honest.
She waved them in after that, and Mr. Hebert barreled into the airlock. She followed him, and they suffered the freezing air before stepping in. God, the girl looked terrible, far worse than Amy ever did. A mass of wires and tubes kept the girl breathing and alive. Nurses had wrapped her in enough bandages to make a mummy for Halloween, and Amy had to cut away a portion around her wrists to reach a sliver of skin with a bone knife she grew from her finger.
Her sister was so fucking cool.
Amy frowned at the skin contact and then immediately disconnected. "She has several septic pockets of infection, three different blood infections from fungi, and they had to remove her left eye entirely. Nothing I can't fix, thankfully."
"Thank you." Mr. Hebert whispered, thick with emotion. "She's been through so much since her mother died. She doesn't deserve this."
"No one does. Please take a seat. This should take about 15 minutes."
The seconds ticked loudly from the clock, the girl's cheeks flushing with color as Amelia worked to clear her body from everything nasty under the sun.
"Did they catch who did this to her?" Her curiosity got the better of her.
He shook his head. "The school says this was 'attention-seeking behavior' and refuses to investigate." She didn't even entertain the thought of that, snorting loudly enough for the both of them.
"The only time someone refuses to investigate something is because they have something to hide. She'll wake up soon but don't mob her with questions. Mentally, she's still likely reliving the entire experience when they…" She consulted the incident report attached to the gurney clipboard. "Found her stuffed in her locker with biohazardous waste. Hmm, pretty twisted stuff."
Vicky stifled a hurl, turning green, and Mr. Hebert didn't look any better. How Amy didn't so much as flinch astounded her, balancing tabbing through the report and still healing.
The girl, Taylor, she learned after catching the name on the paper, stirred from her sleep. She violently twitched before her remaining eye snapped open.
"Oh god, everything hurts." She found her dad instantly in the room. "Dad?"
"I'm here, sweetie." He scooted his chair to the other side of the bed and held her hand, Vicky twitching slightly at the care he showed. Why couldn't she stop comparing her mom's attention to Amy to his? "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Before you say anything, I'm Amelia or Panacea, and I must keep your confidentiality as your doctor. In the room with me are your father and my sister, Victoria, and I will kick them both out if you want to share anything with me that you don't want them to know. Do you understand?" Amy handed her a cup of water and helped her sit up, handing her a cup of water.
"No, that's okay. They can stay." Vicky gave her her best smile. She looked like she desperately needed a friend and a hug. "There are these three girls at school and they make my life a living hell. One of them was even my best friend until something changed in her. They usually stick to small things like tripping me in the hall, dumping soda on me, or stealing my homework but this time…" She took a shuddering breath, continuing in a dead, detached monotone better suited to a shell-shocked veteran. "They filled my locker with all sorts of disgusting stuff and ambushed me when I opened it, shoving me inside. I heard them laughing, not only them but the entire school. No one lifted a finger to help me. I think I blacked out for the first time after that, but the bugs kept waking me up." She shifted restlessly, and Vicky held back another hurl, leaning against the wall for support. "I can still feel them, crawling over me and biting or stinging."
"Oh, sweetheart, you never said anything."
"You were depressed after mom died and I wasn't gonna add my worries to that."
"And now I suddenly feel like we're intruding." Amy stuck her two cents in and Vicky almost hugged her for getting out of the family drama brewing before them.
"You helped me when you didn't need to." Taylor said, waving, "That's more than anyone's done for me in months."
"Good, then I'm going to help you one more time before I go home and pass out since I only just woke up from a coma a few hours ago." Amy ripped off two pieces of paper, scribbling down some information while ignoring their squawks of surprise. Vicky didn't bother hiding her smirk. Yup, she really was that good of a person. "First off, I want their names. The school might not want to do anything, but I sure can."
"Sure, and thank you. Sophia Hess, Madison Clements, and… Emma Barnes." Taylor cut off her dad's question about the last one she named, and she sensed there was some history there she didn't want to get into in front of them. Amy jotted those names down with a wicked smile, handing over her notes. "This is my mobile number, my email, and my PHO handle, and you may call or message me about anything, even just to vent. This other note is for your eyes only, understand? Destroy it after you read it."
The sudden switch in her tone startled them all, and Taylor nodded solemnly, accepting the two notes.
"Now Victoria, I need you to carry me because I'm about to pass out." Amy managed to get out, struggling to stand against the bed suddenly. She flew forward and caught her effortlessly. Her school and grocery bag landed forgotten for the moment as she shuffled around to hold her comfortably, dealing with a slightly heavier Amy than she remembered from all the excess biomass she inhaled but nothing her strength couldn't handle. "I knew I kept you around for some reason."
Vicky couldn't help but roll her eyes, finagling with the bags until she carried everything in an assorted mess of human limbs and plastics. Amy mimed a phone over to Taylor and the girl returned a hesitant nod.
She could wait for all she was concerned, a Carol-shaped tornado waiting for them at home.
Hopefully they still have a standing house after everything was said and done.