Owwwww… My eyes slowly cracked open, staring blurry-eyed up at the ceiling of my room. I instantly regretted that, shutting them against the light that pierced through the window. Why is it so briiiiiiight, it's winter… Covering my face with my hands, I futilely rubbed at my eyes. There was a cramp in my stomach and hot, sore pain in my right hip. Now that I was awake, I could tell I wasn't going back to sleep. God, what happened?

It clicked into my head after a moment. That's what happened. The patrol, the thugs, the fight. I'd been a proper hero. Even if I barely managed to handle two thugs. Probably could have died if not for… Shadow Cat? Was that what she told me? Something to worry about later. For now, pain in my side, pain in my stomach. I shifted slightly, trying to avoid setting off whatever my injury was.

On my right side, where the guy's bat had hit me, was a purple splotch around the size of my fist. That… would have been really bad without my armor. Would have broken my hip. Gotta make better armor… Gonna be a pain in the ass to hide this… God, going out last night was stupid. A very loud rumble from my stomach alerted me to the second issue. One that was at least easier to remedy.

Rolling out of bed with a groan, I winced as something else made itself apparent. Great, my head hurts too. Fantastic. Letting out yet another groan, I grabbed my phone. Checking the time, I got confused. It was almost noon. Sure it was the weekend, but Carol never let me sleep in. And I had a message from Vicky. Swiping to unlock it, I quickly checked the message. What I saw made me let out a quiet sigh.

Vicky (8:47)
Looked like you needed the sleep, I talked Mom into not waking you up. Went out to the mall, see you later!

Oh my god thank you, Vicky. The idea of having to get up at the time I normally did sounded like a nightmare. More importantly, I'd have never been able to hide this bruise with the family around. It's a lot hard to smash your hip into your bedframe than your wrist. Swiping my phone open, I quickly typed out a response to thank her.

Amy (11:54)
Thanks, needed it. Rough night. You went alone?

It seemed like a simple enough question to ask. Considering it was Vicky, she almost definitely had someone with her. Literally never goes anywhere without someone if she could help it. Just as much an extrovert as I was an introvert. Shoving my phone into a pocket, I turned my attention back to the most important thing at the moment. Getting some food so my stomach would stop cannibalizing itself. Maybe also grab some bandages and aspirin.

Being very careful not to exacerbate the injury any further, I made my way out of my room. As I got closer to the stairs, I noticed something. A bit of noise drifting up from downstairs. Carol was almost definitely out of the house for work. Vicky was gone. That left only really one possible person beside me in the house. Mark's actually out of his room?

Or maybe Vicky just left the TV on. The slightly optimistic thought got squashed by the more pessimistic one. Letting out a quiet sigh, I slowly made my way down the stairs. The sound became more clear. Reaching the bottom step, I glanced through the doorway into the room. A little bit of hope grew as I saw it was Mark with the TV on. Then the hope died out as I saw he was passed out asleep, a bottle on the table next to him.

Don't know why I get my hopes up. Disappointed, I turned and went into the kitchen. Can't let it distract me from my mission. Food was required. Not just a snack either. No, I needed some proper food. Opening the refrigerator, I found myself staring at everything. If there was one nice thing I could say about Carol, she kept the kitchen stocked. Don't want to wait. Grilled ham and cheese it is.

Grabbing the ingredients, I shut the refrigerator and got to work. It was one of the few things I didn't second guess myself while making. Grabbing an apple to tide me over while they cooked, I devoured the entire thing in less than a minute. Oh, that's better. With the edge of my hunger gone, I turned to throw it away and stopped.

Standing in the doorway, blinking slowly at me, was Mark. The two of us just stared at each other. After a moment, Mark yawned and made a gesture to the stove with his bottle. He'd been drinking root beer. "You should have come into the living room. I was going to make you pancakes."

Oh… It wasn't a bad day. Feeling slightly ridiculous for assuming, I just shrugged. "You looked comfy. My fault for sleeping in."

"Victoria said you looked like you needed the sleep when she went to wake you up. Rough night?" Turning to not let him see my expression, I nodded. That's one way to put it.

"Yeah. Hard time sleeping." I kept it brief, trying to quickly find something to direct the conversation away from that. "You mind getting me the orange juice?"

"Sure thing." He dug into the refrigerator and got it out. Grabbing myself a glass, I made my way over to sit at the table. A mixture of happiness and panic bubbled up as he sat himself down across from me. "What kept you up?"

Uh oh, uuuuuuuuuuh shit, what do I tell him. Party? Party! Not even a lie, that did keep me up. Two nights ago. "Well… Vicky or Carol might have mentioned it. I went to a party two days ago?"

"The reason why you two got back late in the middle of that blizzard?" That earned a wince from me, remembering the scolding we got from Carol.

"Yeah, that night. Vicky went to one party, I went to the other. Well… I didn't stay the whole night at that party. Something happened, there was this girl. Said some awful things about Victoria, I wound up making a scene defending her." He gave me a small nod of understanding as I kept going. "It made things super awkward, so I just left. Wandered around for a bit in the snow before I settled in at a coffee shop. It was around then that Vicky found me. She'd… been looking for a while."

"That sounds like Vicky… I won't get on you for it. Considering I did some similar stuff back in the day, I'd be a hypocrite. Just gotta try and do better next time. Not always going to get it right. But you're supposed to keep trying." Maybe it was his tone, but I didn't entirely think he believed what he said. Like he was just repeating something someone else said. All I gave in acknowledgment was a hum as I shoved a sandwich into my mouth.

Just my luck that he'd have one of his good days when I'm having one of my worst days. He was trying, and I just couldn't bring myself to do anything but devour my food. At least it seemed like he didn't care, as he just sat and watched me eat.

"Damn, you must really have been hungry. First the apple, then those." I blushed a little at that, finishing off the last bit of the sandwich. You don't know half of it.

"I probably should have eaten more last night… I was starving." Grabbing my orange juice, I drank it at a more sedate pace. Trying to ignore the amused expression on his face.

"Dinner was kind of sparse last night. Anyway, with Carol having to go to work for a case and Vicky going with some friends it's just us. Want to get out of the house? Could stand to do some shopping." He was trying to act casual about it, but I could tell what was going on.

He was trying to make me feel better. It wasn't the first time he'd done this. It'd gotten rarer as the years went on. I was about to tell him no when I stopped myself. If I turn him down it might send him into an episode. It might be another month before he has another good day. It'd make Carol mad at me, and make Vicky worry about me… I don't want to hurt him. "Let me grab a shower and get changed?"

"I'll be in the living room." He gave me a smile before getting up. Sighing silently as he left, I finished off my orange juice. Trying to hide this injury's going to suck.

Dumping my dishes into the washer, I started for the stairs. Even if I felt bad, I was going to see this decision through. The aspirin in the bathroom cabinet helped a bit. Only a bit though. Showering, drying off, bandaging the bruise, and then getting dressed was awful.

"Ready," I called out to Mark as I slipped on the coat I wore to the party. He grabbed his coat, slipping it on as he opened the door Then we were outside, locking the house up behind us. The snow was supposed to stick around for another two days. So we stamped our way to the car through it.

Popping the doors open of the comfy old Ford, we climbed in and shivered. This car had good memories attached to it. It was Carol's old car, that she traded out after getting her job as a lawyer. Family vacations, the fun experience of Vicky learning to drive, and these little trips with Mark all happened in this car. Even if it needed reupholstering and it had sticky gears, it was the family car. Also, it was warm.

Putting it into reverse, he pulled out into the street, and we were on our way. Traffic was light for a Saturday afternoon, anyone who could get away with it chose to stay indoors. It made getting to the places we wanted to go pretty easy. He knew where to take me shopping, despite it happening less, he still remembered. The first stop was the bookstore. It was always nice, quietly looking through all the shelves and picking something new out. Mark knew better than to question when I grabbed a trashy Earth Bet romance novel. Something about vampires.

The next stop is the hobby store. It brought back memories of when I was younger, sitting at the living room table with a bundle of colored pencils or playdough. Making whatever random thing came into my head. I still had done it occasionally up until I got my powers. Thinking back on my costume sketches, I snagged a small colored pencil set. The smile Mark gave me was embarrassing, but it would be put to good use.

Then it was on to a clothing store more suited to my taste. While it said "Coat Factory" on the sign, it really was just generally a "heavier clothes" store. Usually, Vicky didn't like coming to it, since she very rarely found stuff she liked. Though she also thought it encouraged me to "hide in my clothes" to come here. Her voice nagged me in the back of my head as I looked through the aisles. To the point where I decided to compromise with myself and pick something in between. A turtleneck. These are fashionable, right?

The entire time I was doing my best to hide the pain. My headache cleared up after a bit, but that bruise just stayed a constant throbbing in my side. Mark was happy though, more active and lively than I'd seen him in a bit. It was worth sucking up the pain so that we'd have a good time. It was a good time as well when my side wasn't acting up. We exchanged little jokes, our more sarcastic senses of humor meshing.

The door jingled on our last stop of the trip, Cinnamon's Bakery. It was a small place about a mile from our house. It'd been there when I was a kid, and I had enjoyed it enough that it became the traditional final stop. Hung up around the place were Christmas directions, and something finally clicked into my head. Shit, Christmas is coming up isn't it? How the hell had I managed to miss that?

There hadn't been any decorations put anywhere else, but Cinnamon always made sure to jump on holidays as quickly as possible. There was even faint Christmas music playing from the back! It was only the Third! Glancing up at Mark, he seemed even more confused than me. Had we both forgotten that this was coming up? Yes, not like we either really enjoyed it.

"You getting a brownie?" It was enough to knock Mark out of whatever thoughts he had gotten stuck in his head. Blinking a little bit, he nodded his head.

It was what he always got, a single brownie with sugar on top. So I wouldn't feel alone when I got what I got. "You getting a cinnamon roll?"

That got a nod back in response. It was what I always got, after having sampled the entire menu when I was younger. Did she learn to make great cinnamon rolls due to her name? "Well, no point in standing around."

The cashier behind the counter, Cinnamon's son, gave us an awkward smile as we stepped up. "Yeah, I heard you two." He stuck his head into the back and called out. "Mom, a cinnamon bun and brownie. It's Amy and Mark."

Oh no. Of course, he told his mom who it was who ordered. While we'd stopped coming here as often, we were still pretty much regulars. We both knew what was coming, but all Mark and I could do were awkwardly stand there as we waited.

"A brownie and cinnamon roll for my two favorite heroes!" Out of the back stepped Cinnamon herself, carrying the two pastries with her. A fair bit overweight, Cinnamon was still a surprisingly bright little bundle of joy. As well as a little nosy. "I barely ever see you two here anymore!"

"School and the hospital keeps me busy." It came up a little bit curter than I wanted, but with the pain, I couldn't stop myself. She just ignored it, handing us each our orders. As well as an extra bag that she shoved into Mark's hands.

"Some gingerbread cookies for the other two. It's the least I could do for you heroes! Now, tell me, how have things been Mark? Carol doing well?" I mentally checked out of the conversation, Mark awkwardly answering Cinnamon's questions. It'd be a bit before she was satisfied with whatever gossip she managed to get out of him.

The first chance I got, I slipped out the front door. Sure it was cold outside, but it kept her from asking me any painful questions about school. Vapor floated up as I sighed out. It was cold, but I had a fresh warm cinnamon roll to stay warm.

Wax paper crinkled as I rolled it back. Getting a nice sniff, I took a big bite and just savored it. Nice warm dough, cinnamon, brown sugar, and icing. Where have you been all my life? "BOOF!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, whirling around with the roll gripped tight in one hand. Standing there staring up at me with big brown eyes, was a dog. A large dog colored a mixture of brown and white, with grey around her muzzle and eyes. Trailing behind her in the snow was a bright red leash, noticeably without someone holding it. … Why is this dog so familiar?

"Dame!" The shouting voice made me look up, as everything clicked into place. Wendy came around the corner. She nearly busted her ass on a patch of ice, latching onto a streetlight to stay upright. Breathing heavily, she looked from the dog to me. Her eyes widened, and we wound up staring at each other for a moment.

"Amy?" She let go of the pole, walking over as she caught her breath. Without a solid idea of how to respond to this, I just waved.

"That's my name." It was an awkward response, but it managed to get a snort out of her. She grabbed the leash from the snow before crouching down beside the dog. Raising a finger, she wagged it in the dog's face.

"Bad dog Dame, bad dog! You don't run away like that again, okay? You hadn't done that in years…" All she got in response was a bark from the dog, who moved back to staring at me. More specifically, my cinnamon roll. I pulled it defensively to my chest as she got up. "I wasn't expecting to see you until after Winter Break. What're you doing out here?"

"... Getting a cinnamon roll." It came out in an extreme deadpan, as I took another bite of the pastry. She blinked a little bit and blushed, realizing it was kind of a stupid question. There was another bark from Dame, and she poked my hand with her nose. Letting out a small sigh, I put my free hand on her head. At least she's warm. "If you mean more in general, my dad and I were going shopping. Carol's working and Vicky ran off shopping on her own. I kind of figured you'd be with her."

"Hehehe, funny you would mention that." She got this awkward expression on her face, rubbing the back of her neck. One of my eyebrows quirked up. "She actually did ask me to go to the mall with her… Told her I had to look after Dame here. Which, to be fair, is kind of true. But uh, I kind of also got the feeling she might still be annoyed with me? For letting you leave the party that is."

I felt my lips slowly turn down into a frown at that little nugget of information. She was upset about the whole thing, but… "You do realize that she was probably asking you to the mall to clear the air right? She wasn't going to tear you apart or something. I decided to leave, and frankly, you couldn't have stopped me."

"Yeah, but it is kind of my fault for not stopping that argument sooner. Or just making sure Emma knew to keep her friend on her absolute best behavior. Or I could have kept you in the kitchen away from her. Or…" I let out a sigh as she started to list off the things she could have done differently. Really? One hand came up and cut her off mid-sentence.

"I'm the one who made a scene. I'm the one who chose to leave. It's my fault." Like a lot of things are my fault. That didn't seem to go over too well with her. She frowned and opened her mouth to probably argue when she was interrupted. Another bark from Dame, who stared up at me pleadingly. "You're not getting my cinnamon roll. It's mine."

"What's gotten into you Dame?" Wendy stuck her hands onto her hips and stared at the dog, who just stared back while panting happily. "It's been years since she was this active. Since she ran away from me like that. Did that party really give you so much pep in your step?"

She brought up the party right as I was eating another bite of roll. It got caught in my throat, and I started coughing. Dame started barking as I bent over, and Wendy had to give me a few slaps on the back. Oooooh, that hurt. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, f-fine," I said wincing, trying to not make the bruise on my side too obvious. As she kept staring at me, I made a vague gesture to my throat. "J-Just went down the wrong pipe."

We stared at each other for a few more moments, before her eyes flicked down to Dame. Then back to me. Oh no, please don't tell me… "Amy, did you… do something to Dame during the party?"

Looking away, I tried to make myself innocent. It didn't work. Wendy just kept staring at me with this dumbfounded expression. I have to come clean. "Well, um, I kind of looked her over at the party. Didn't have a lot else to do you know? I kind of noticed she had a tumor growing near her liver, and it seemed awkward to bring it up during the party so I just kind of dealt with it. Since I was in for a penny might as well go in for a pound and just do a general tune-up to make her healthier. The fact she's no longer dealing with arthritis and inflammation probably has something to do with her being this energetic. I'm sorry for n-"

She darted forward and cut me off, wrapping both of her arms tightly around me. I was left standing there awkwardly, my roll held out to the side to keep any hair from getting caught in it. My hand came off Dame's head to awkwardly pat her on the back, as she took a deep, shuddering breath. Was… she gonna cry? "Thank you, Amy… You don't know how much Dame means to me."

"Uh… It was nothing? Can you… let go?" Another moment passed and I thought I would have to ask again, but she pulled back. Sure enough, she had to wipe her eyes to keep any tears from spilling out. Dame finally left my side to walk over and prod her muzzle into Wendy. Crouching down, she wrapped her arms around the dog instead.

"I owe you, Amy. Like seriously, you name it." This sadly wasn't the first time someone has offered a favor in return for some healing. Though this was the first time it was offered from someone I saw on at least a semi-consistent basis.

"Don't mention it. I mean it as well. I rather not have pet healing added to the list of stuff people ask me to do. This is a special exception kind of thing." She bobbed her head up and down, pressing her face into Dame's fur. It felt like I really shouldn't be seeing this. It was… personal.

Luckily, the door's bell jingled. He stepped outside, some powdered sugar stuck to his lips. He looked between the two of us with a strange expression on his face. I just stared back, as Wendy stood herself upright. "Who's your friend Ames?"

"Wendy, the girl whose party I went to two days ago? You've probably seen her, she's usually with Vicky." That got a response from Mark, as he let out a loud 'aaaaaah'. Wendy for her part just clasped her hands together, even as Dame… went over to try and get attention from Mark.

"I'm really sorry about Amy getting home so late Mr. Dallon! Especially with the blizzard. I tried to get her to accept a car ride, but well…" She trailed off, even as I huffed. Mark for his part… laughed. Primarily at Dame, who was giving him big doe eyes.

"A Saint Bernard, you gotta be loving this weather eh? You're a good girl, aren't you?" He reached a hand down to scratch around her ears, before looking over at Wendy.

"Carol and I can't keep her from sneaking out to the hospital at night. I can't exactly blame you for not managing what we could." Wendy gave me a concerned look at that. Really Mark?! Heat filled my face as I blushed, giving Mark my best glare. He just grinned at me before popping the rest of his brownie into his mouth.

"Anyway." I started, desperate to get out of this situation now that Mark had joined. "We should probably get going. Got to go find the perfect Christmas gifts, you know how it is. I'm sure Dame would like to get her walk done." He laughed again at that, as I grabbed his arm and started trying to drag him back towards the car. Wendy just stared after us for a few moments, before raising a hand to wave after us.

"See you later Amy!" Waving back at her, I mentally groaned. It wasn't exactly a secret, but did he have to bring it up. Mark just kept grinning as we got back into the car. Something about this seemed almost stereotypical. A dad embarrassing his teenage daughter in front of her classmates.

He started the car up, turning around to look and make sure we didn't hit anything. As he did so, he spoke. "Wendy seems like a nice girl. You should hang out with her more. Now, what are we going to get Carol and Victoria for Christmas?"

A/N: Seven months… I spent most of those seven months with a thousand words written, as I struggled through CGT courses. And getting sidetracked with many, many things. I am not good at keeping consistency…