The hot water helped with the bruises, but it didn't stop the aching in my chest.

I sighed quietly and planted my forehead against the shower wall. The water flowed over me as I tried to figure out exactly what I would do. This situation had gotten a lot more complicated all of a sudden.

It wasn't like there was a plan to begin with. The best I could muster was to accept whatever punishment Carol would come up with. If she banned me from being Sequoia… well it wasn't like there was any other option. The ball was in her court now, to steal a phrase from Vicky, all I could do was wait to see what she wanted to do.

Or at least that had been the plan, before Vicky got the truth out of me. I couldn't tell what she was going to do. Would she try to confront Carol about it as soon as possible or try to get info from Mark or Sarah? The best-case scenario would be her pretending I was wrong and never bringing it up. That wasn't going to happen though, I had seen it on her face.

She, at the bare minimum, believed I believed that. Which meant she was going to try and do something to fix it.

I brought my head back and smacked it weakly against the wall.

Because I couldn't tell Vicky no, I had probably just destroyed the family. It was just a matter of time before Vicky got the answer out of Mark, or Sarah, or Carol herself. She'd never forgive Carol.

How would that spread out to the rest of New Wave? How bad would Mark's depression get if his daughters and wife were fighting? How would Sarah and Neil react to half the team falling apart at the seams?

Sarah already knew that this was happening though, right? Carol had been talking to Sarah about it when I had overheard. How many times had I thought over that conversation? Were they arguing, was Carol just complaining, was she asking for advice? I hadn't stuck around long enough to hear anything else. I regretted that.

Complaining to myself about the past wasn't going to fix this though. The only thing I could control was what I was my actions. Wasn't that what I had told Vicky? It had been my choice to put myself at risk and break New Wave's ideals. It hadn't been for anyone else but myself. It meant I had to deal with the consequences.

It was a nice sentiment. It got me no closer to figuring out a solution to the problem. The only way to fix this would be to get Vicky to think Carol did love me. If there were a way to convince Carol to love me, I would have done it ages ago. Eight long years of trying to impress Carol as a kid hadn't gotten me anywhere. What the hell could I do now to change that?

Reaching out, I shut the water off. Sitting in the shower wasn't going to get me any closer. Wendy probably needed to use the bathroom as well. Grabbing a towel to dry off and get dressed, I sighed.

That was the cherry on top. No matter what, Wendy couldn't find out that this was happening. Some part of me ached to tell her, that she would know how to fix this mess. Or at least she'd be supportive. That was the problem, though.

She said it herself. She focused on my problems so she could ignore her own. The last thing she needed was trying to wrap her head around the fucked up dynamic we had. She needed to rest, and she needed support. Right now, that was me, so she couldn't find out how close I was to cracking.

It was one thing to admit to her how scared I was of her getting kidnapped. This was something else.

Getting dressed, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Even after the shower, frankly, I looked like shit. My hair was an even frizzier mess than usual, and the bruise was visible past the edge of my shirt collar. Pulling on the back of my shirt only barely covered it.

It was about as good as I was going to get. Opening the bathroom door, I stopped and blinked.

Wendy blinked back at me. She was leaning against the wall opposite the door, doing something on her phone. We stared at each other for a couple moments. For some reason, I couldn't figure out what to say. It seemed like she didn't either, so we just stood there. Her eyes landed on my head, and she squinted.

"You really have no clue how to handle your hair huh?" She rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall.

"What?" I blinked again as she stepped closer, putting a hand on my stomach to push me back into the bathroom.

"Amy, did you just grab a towel and scrub at your hair with it to dry it?" She fixed me with a look.

"... I didn't want to waste time," I muttered as she kept pushing me back. "Not like I'm going anywhere…"

"It's Christmas Eve, Amy. You should look your best." She tsked a couple of times and turned to the counter. "Not sit down on that stool. I'm doing your hair."

"Wendy, you don't need to do that." The last thing I had expected was this. "It's not a big deal. You know this is what my hair normally looks like."

"And that is a tragedy, so I'm making your hair look good today." She reached out to grab Vicky's spray bottle and brush from the counter before rounding on me. "Now sit down and shut up."

"Breakfast is probably done, and you still need to go through your morning routine, I don't want to leave Carol wa-" Wendy's expression soured, and I shut up.

"Amy." It sounded like she might shatter with each word. "Please. Let me do this."

"... Okay."

If this helped her get through what she was going through after the kidnapping, then it'd happen. It didn't matter if Carol got mad at us for making her wait. She wasn't the girl who got kidnapped and wanted to do her friend's hair to help her feel normal after everything.

"Thank you." She gave me a weak smile. Then she spritzed me in the face with the bottle. As I sputtered, she giggled and started in on my hair.

Neither of us said anything as she worked. It started with the bottle and brush. I closed my eyes as I felt the bristles running across my scalp. One of my favorite things was when Vicky would do this for me. After all the stress of yesterday and this morning, feeling the brush slowly work its way through my hair helped. I focused as much as I could on the feeling, trying to anxiety in my stomach.

The brush gently tugged a snag and was abandoned for the moment. Wendy's fingers worked at the knot, her nails gently scratching at my head. Her finger brushed against my scalp and I saw her biology. This was helping her just as much as it was helping me.

The brush came back and I let out a small sigh, the anxiety in my stomach fading slightly. Each movement of the brush and scratch of her finger on my scalp helped undo the tension in my whole body. It was easier to pretend that everything wasn't going to shit, to just focus on the feeling.

"Ahem." Carol's voice sounded from the doorway and I jumped. She was just standing there, looking at the two of us.

"Decided to give Amy more hair tips, Wendy?" Her tone was odd, as she looked at Wendy.

"I insisted on doing it." She sounded a little sheepish, brush still in my hair. "It was a frizzy mess, and I wanted her to look good."

"I told you we'd be late for breakfast." I sighed as I moved to stand. Fun while it lasted.

"You're hurt." Carol's voice made me freeze. Her eyes were locked onto my chest, where the bruise was visible again.

"You're hurt?" Wendy leaned around me and spotted it. "When did you get hurt?

"It's nothing." I tried to brush it off and stand up. Carol stepped forward and grabbed my shoulder, keeping me on the stool.

"Amy." She stared down at me, and I shrunk a little at the intensity of that stare. "How did you get that bruise?"

"One of the thugs last night managed to land a shot on me." There wasn't any option but to tell the truth.

"You got shot!" Wendy practically shouted the words into my ear. "You just weren't going to tell us?"

"I had my armor on and adapted it after each shot. By the fourth one, it didn't even hurt at all…" I muttered the last part under my breath.

"You took literal bullets for me and you just weren't going to mention it?" Her tone made me wince.

"Amy." Carol's voice was cold as she stared down at me. "Are there any other injuries that you've neglected to mention?"

"No." I practically whispered the word as she kept staring down at me.

"Amy." She squinted down at me, almost as if she was trying to dissect me with her eyes.

"No, there isn't. I kind of ache all over from all the fighting, but no other injuries." I forced myself to speak more loudly this time, to try and force her to believe me.

We stared at each other before she let out a long sigh. Reaching a hand to rub her forehead, she moved to the door.

"We'll discuss this later. Finish up you two and come on downstairs for breakfast." With those words she vanished, and I let out a silent sigh of relief.

Any relief I felt fled as I turned to find Wendy staring at me, sniffling a little. Panic flooded through me as I reached a hand out for her shoulder.

"Wendy, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to worry, please don't cry." Why did I have to make everything worse?

"I'm always going to worry about you, you idiot." She sniffled once and then suddenly slammed into me for a hug. I almost fell over but kept my balance as she buried her face into my hair. Hissing a little as she aggravated the bruise on my chest.

"It… It just clicked." It was obvious she was fighting back tears. "You could have gotten hurt. Hurt trying to save me."

"I didn't get hurt though." My hands naturally found their way around her back, rubbing circles on her spine. "It's just a tiny bruise and some fatigue aches. No serious injuries here."

"You got shot at!" She sniffled and hugged me even tighter. "You got shot multiple times, and are acting like it's nothing. You took literal bullets for me Amy, I'm allowed to get a little emotional about that."

"It's what heroes do." I just mumbled into her neck. "Vicky gets shot at all the time, you don't see anyone making a big deal about that."

"Victoria's bulletproof Amy, you're not. If your armor hadn't been good enough…" She trailed off, and I could see the terror running through her system at the thought.

"It was good enough. I wasn't trying to get shot Wendy, it just happened." I squeezed her tighter to try and force the fear out of her. "I took that risk to help save you and Emma. It was worth it. My armor's even better now, I'm pretty sure I'm more bulletproof than Vicky now."

"You weren't going to tell anyone you had that bruise!" She pulled back, glaring down at me. The fact everyone was taller than me was starting to get annoying. "What's next, you break a rib and don't tell anyone?"

"Wendy… I was hiding this because it's not a big deal. I've hid bigger bruises from them before." I regretted saying that instantly, as she stared at me even harder.

"Amy, if I catch you hiding another injury, I am going to…" She struggled for a moment before continuing. "I'm going to start checking!"

"What?" I stared at her confused, as she poked me in the stomach.

"We go to the gym together. I'll start making sure to look you over before we shower, to make sure you're not hiding any injuries." She seemed proud of figuring something out, even as I blushed.

"... I won't hide another injury." If only because I didn't want to endure the awkward hell that would be Wendy checking me over for injuries.

"Good!" She put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me towards the door. "Tell your mom I'll be a bit. I still need to change my clothes and fix my hair."

"Don't take too long." Giving her the time and space she needed, I shut the door after myself.

It took a moment, standing in the hallway, for things to register. A long sigh escaped me as I reached a hand up to my hair. Wendy knew how to work it at the least. As relaxing as that had been, Carol finding out about the bruise was bad. It was another piece of ammo to use against me being Sequoia.

Shaking my head, I started towards the stairs. It was just something else I would have to deal with.

There wasn't any conversation from the kitchen, just the clinking of silverware. Stepping through the doorway, it was a sad sight. Vicky stared at her plate like it would tell her what she needed, mechanically eating her bacon. Mark was barely touching his food, listlessly pushing some eggs around. Guilt surged up my throat, or was that nausea?

"Amy," I turned my head to where Carol was standing. On the counter beside her were a pair of plates and coffee mugs. What surprised me were the ice pack and a small pill cup, two Tylenol already in it.

"I know you know how to treat a bruise." She inclined her head towards it and then stepped over towards me. "While we'll discuss you hiding an injury from us later, I'll tell you now. If you do this again, there will be further consequences. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes…" I winced under her stare before muttering. "Wendy already chewed me out about it."

"Good, she should." She moved past me to the table. "I assume she'll be a bit?"

"Getting changed and fixing her hair," I answered as I moved over to the counter.

Carol made the eggs and bacon, Mark made the pancakes. That was how they handled breakfast when they made it. The pancake looked a little burnt, but he had made it. Carol had taken the time to get the ice pack and Tylenol out and ready for me. Why? Was she trying to prove me wrong?

Grabbing the cup, I tossed the pills into my mouth, before washing them down with a sip of coffee. Shoving the icepack in my shirt made me hiss. Grabbing my plate and mug, I turned around. Finding Vicky staring at me from the table.

This was going to be the most awkward breakfast of my life, wasn't it?