So, label this as crap I forgot to do, despite promising to do so. so, here it is, a sidestory provided by Tigers-Tall-Tails on SB. It's done so well, that I've worked to integrate it into the story overall.
Germinate 2.7.5
START
"Maybe I should thank you then. After all, I got a pretty useful power, and all it took was not being one of your charity cases."
Amy bit her lip. The red scarf that covered her face would keep anyone from commenting on it. One of the few times that her costume as Panacea worked in her favour. She was back at the hospital, after the disaster that was her day at Arcadia. Vicky was fuming, out and about somewhere in town. Amy wanted to be there for her sister, to let her vent. But she wasn't comfortable putting off her work at the hospital, so it would have to wait.
"Jean? Who're we working on today?" Easier to lose myself in the work then remember the spite and hurt in that voice.
Jean was probably Amy's favourite person in the hospital. A nurse for over twenty years, the older women had dealt every kind of patient, injury, sickness, or ailment imaginable. And her 'seen it all' attitude helped her interact with patients in way that Amy wasn't able to.
"We have one case of three shattered bones, one with liver failure, another with a collapsed lung, two people with…" Amy let the chatter roll over her. It didn't really matter what the injuries were, she'd seen them before. Time and time again, she came in, healed, and left. If she was lucky, she never saw the patient again. But this was Brockton Bay, so she wasn't lucky.
The first three cases went by in a blur. The fourth was clearly a gang member, with tattoos and a shattered arm, shoulder, and hand. Someone had lost a fight, or angered the boss, or who knows what. Amy set about her task; extending her hand and saying her lines. "Do I have your permission to heal you?" The man snapped back. "Yes! Damn it I'm in pain here, fix me!"
Panacea touched his skin, and she could see his form unravel itself in her mind. Skin, muscles, tendons, bones, arteries, veins, capillaries, organs… down to the very cells that made up each greater whole. Like soft clay laid out before her, waiting for her hands to shape. Amy bit her lip again. There are limits. She had limits. Panacea had to have limits. Only Villain have no limits. And Amy wouldn't be a Villain.
Her will reached out, and the body responded. Soothing inflammation, deadening nerves, then shifting and repairing muscles to maneuver bone shards into place. Once they mostly alined, she fused the bone whole again, making sure to anchor the ligaments properly. She did another quick check before pulling her awareness back to her body. The whole thing took eight minutes. The patient still wasn't happy. "Took you long enough to get here. Next time, don't waste your time with the rest of the trash."
Amy didn't smack him. She didn't reach out and make his heart pump stomach-acid. She didn't twist his nerves so that every breath would cause a wave of agony to flood through him. She just… walked away. She left Jean to handle it.
The older women found Panacea later, hunched over on her phone in the break room. Her white robe, a recognizable element of her hero costume, was tossed on a nearby chair, leaving Amy in jeans and a t-shirt. Nurse Jean took a seat as the girl continued browsing her phone, ignoring the world. "Hey Amy… We've got a few more people on the list for today. You up for it, or should we break for lunch and pick up after?"
The healer signed, "Can't be worse than the last idiot we fixed up."
"You know why we have to take them." Jean gave a tired smile that said far too much.
"Neutrality" Amy almost spat the word out. Neither spoke as she got up and assembled her outfit. Hooded robe, long sleeves, red scarf to cover her lower face. It wasn't anything fancy, but everyone knew the 'look' of Panacea.
In a city divided between three major gangs, with a crime rate that was several points higher then the average, the Brockton Bay Hospital didn't take sides. They walked a thin line between turning a blind eye to some injuries, and reporting others to police if things were too messy to ignore. This neutrality kept fights from breaking out in the waiting room, kept drug shipments from being intercepted. This neutrality extended to Panacea as well, who healed regardless of who was under her hands. If only someone had bothered to ask my opinion beforehand.
Her irritation at being pushed to heal and to be 'neutral' gave her the nudge she needed. Asking the question that had been bothering her ever since the confrontation at Arcadia. As the two exited the room, Panacea asked."So how does the List work? I've never really asked." It hadn't seemed important until now. She went to the hospital, she did her tasks, and then she tried to forget it all until she was called on again.
Jean hummed as they stepped aside, letting a group exit the elevator before entering. She punched a button before answering. "Well first, the patients would need to have coverage for parahuman healing. If they agree to it, their doctor will make the application request to be placed on your healing list. Priority is given to more urgent cases, but for the most part there's not much of a backlog. You do quick work!"
Amy nodded along. It was interesting, and unfortunately it tied into the accusations that had been thrown in her face the days before. What Jean said next sent Amy's stomach to the floor.
"Of course, things are a little different for the charity cases."
"The what?" She said numbly. She clenched her hands, thankful that her long sleeves hid the motion.
Jean hummed slightly. "Charity cases are tricky. People who could greatly benefit from care, but don't have the insurance. So their problem could be treated, or staved off with medical care, but we're not going to be able resolve the problem. Not like you can."
"Two doctors are needed, one to make the application, and one to co-sign. There's this whole evaluation based on standards of living with or without intervention, questions of physical and mental wellbeing, things like that. It takes a fair bit, I've helped a few doctors write them. There's maybe a dozen written each month? Once the request is ready, it's sent off for approval."
"And the approval? Who does that? The hospital?"
Jean glanced at Amy oddly, "No, that comes from your mother. It was stated quite clearly in your contract that she would oversee things."
Amy felt cold settling in her gut as the implications set in. She clenched her hands. "What contract?"
When Amy gained her powers, things were… tense in the Dallon household. She had saved Victoria's life. That was good. Then the family learnt more about her abilities, about what she was capable of. Then things were bad. Aunt Sarah and Uncle Neil had come over, and there were lots of talks between the adults. Vicky was elated that her sister could be a superhero just like herself. Amy was terrified she would be thrown out of the house. Mark tried to act like a father on the good days. Vicky loved her like a sister. Carol watched her. Evaluated her. Carol was never Mother, nor Mom. Amy was the outsider of the family, and felt it keenly.
Amy didn't believe in God. But she prayed that day when she was called to the living room. She prayed that she wouldn't be separated from her sister.
Aunt Sarah did most of the talking about how Amy could now be part of New Wave, could be part of the effort to keep capes honest. She explained that Amy could make a difference by helping people. Carol spoke about healing, about having limits, and about the expectations of a Hero. About working with the hospital to show how much of a hero Amy was. The adults discussed around Amy, about costumes and introductions.
Amy just remembered agreeing to everything. She wouldn't be separated from her sister.
Days later, she found herself being greeted at the hospital. She followed instructions, she healed and put humans back together again. She repaired damaged cells, erased malignant tumours, stimulated blood production and bone growth. She said her lines; "Do I have your permission to heal you?"
Again
And again
And again…
Samuel Monk was an aging administrator for the Hospital. Amy had met him only once before when she first started working. He had a heavy set frame and greying hair. Adjusting his glasses after ushering her to sit exclaiming, "Panacea! Good to see you. I hope everything is going well? No trouble I hope?"
Amy tried to remember how Vicky did it. How she presented herself and talked to people with confidence. She sat up straight, but couldn't resist her fingers playing with the ends of her sleeves. "Yes, well… no. I mean yes! There's no problem. I was just…"
This was stupid. But I'm angry.
She took a breath. Tried to smile. Its good that she took the hood off, even if she wanted it on. Even if she wanted to hide. "There was a school discussion you see, talking about careers, and what we can expect once we graduate. A few of my classmates asked about the hospital, and I said I would show them my work contract."" A lie. Not the first she's told, but certainly first big one. Is this how it starts? The road to damnation and condemnation?
Mr. Monk smiled. His goodness conjured guilt inside Amy for taking advantage of him "Well I'm afraid that your contract is a little unique. Your classmates aren't going to get anything like it."
"Oh? Then can you go over it with me, because then I can explain it to them."
"Not a problem. Give me a moment." He huffed as he stood, moving over to the filing cabinets in the corner. With a metallic rattle, the drawer extended. He slowly ran a thumb over the hundreds of folders, pulling one out with a muttered exclamation of success.
"Here we are." He sat, flipped open the folder and glanced over each page before laying them out on the desk. Amy leaned forward trying to absorb the wall of text laid out in front of her.
"Your contract is not like the rest, most notably because of your young age when you joined us. Your mother was insistent that we accept a consultation agreement that listed you as 'Parahuman Healing Specialist'." He tapped a few sections as he spoke. Amy nodded along, reading as quickly as she could.
"Of course, Carol wouldn't be Carol if she didn't have a few requirements of her own. There was already a precedent you see, for Parahuman Healing, and insurance agencies had started implementing their own fees. Carol made sure that some 'charity cases' would be added to your rotation."
"Do I know you?"
An angry, bitter smile on a ruined face.
"No. You wouldn't. Insurance saw to that."
Amy swallowed, twisting the fabric in her hands. "And who approves the Charity Requests?"
"Hmm? Oh, your mother reviews every case, and approves most of them. Not all, certainly, but generally she approves. Only a few cases are denied. Very cautious women, your mother." Monk smiled conspiratorially. Certain it was meant a joke, she smiled back, or at least she tried. She wasn't sure if she succeeded.
"Right. Here we have…" he poked at another section titled Remuneration. "The money! The important bit, some would say." He chuckled slightly. "You and your mother were very generous, I must say. The insurance payouts allow us to keep the lights on! Among other things, of course."
"Of course" she numbly parroted back. "And… then our portion goes where?" Because I've never seen any of it.
"Deposited directly into the New Wave Fund."
The Dallon Family wasn't poor. Even with Mark being a 'house husband' and two girls in school, the question of money never game up. Both Victoria and Amy got a steady allowance from their mother, who controlled the household finances like she controlled everything else. Amy had assumed that Carol's salary as a lawyer kept the books balanced. Was that the lie? Was it all on me? How am I supposed to feel about that?
kept talking but Amy was deft to it as she tried to process her feelings. His words flowed through the office; stipulations for conduct, assistance expectations, priorities for care, workplace standards.
"And here we have it. Employment duration, and the signatures, of course." Amy pulled the paper up, reading carefully at the bottom of the page. Carol had signed twice. Power of Attorney. Parental Consent.
The section of Consultant's Signature My section was left blank.
"I'd like a copy of this." She looked over the desk to . "Please"
"Well, certainly. I'll…" Amy stood, gathered the pages before the older man could, marched to the printer and set it to photocopy each page. She wished she could pull her hood up. She needed the quiet. But she needed answers more.
"Can you tell me about the last few Charity requests? I'd like to see if I remember them. The patients, they go by so quickly sometimes."
Monk began clicking away at his desktop computer, "yes.. just a moment."
Vrrrrr… Vrrrr…Vrrrr went the printer. Amy wished it could go faster. She needed to leave. She needed to think.
"Here we are, hmm… Flavianna Belmon, Larain Messina, Nelson Britton, Taylor Hebert, Sara O'Gorman. Out of all of those, Ms. Hebert was the only one to be denied. Sad case, I tried to get Carol to reconsider but she wouldn't hear of it." The older man sighed. "But she does have the authority to reject cases on her own discretion." It shouldn't be Carol's choice. It should be mine!
Amy took a deep breath in, then out. Her hands clenched and relaxed again.
The printer finished it's job. She snatched the pages up, returning the originals to the desk. "Thank you, you've been very helpful"
"I hope you can explain everything to your classmates, we're always looking for new help." For a moment, Amy had no idea what he was talking about. Then she remembered the lie. "I hope so too."
She left. Pulling up her hood, she fumbling with her scarf as she moved down the halls. It was hard to do with one hand, but she was also clutching the pages to her chest.. There was no way she'd let them go."
Amy hurried to her room when she arrived home. Vicky had been moody the whole way back from the hospital, apparently Carol had texted to say she wanted to see Victoria as soon as she returned home. After the events of the day, neither sister was in the mood to talk."
Dropping her costume on the floor, she then spread the contract paper over her small desk, reading over them again. The words jumped out at her: consultant, insurance payments, charity patients, remuneration, waiving of fees, New Wave Fund, right of refusal, employment duration, signatures.
Amy straightened, a restless energy running through her. She paced the room, picked up her costume, hung it up, returned to the desk, stacked the papers, walked to the window, breathed.
In
Out
Hands clench
Hands unclench
Amy didn't have a plan. She didn't have a goal. But she did want answers. She wanted…
Walking down the hallways, stopping at the office door at the end. Could hear Carol speaking, "…your room. You're grounded, young lady. We'll discuss how long that should be over dinner."
"Mom!" Vicky's voice rose.
"Ignoring your aura, which we will be having a discussion about, you nearly assaulted someone with your powers, Victoria. You could have seriously hurt her, and I didn't raise you to act like this. So you will take your punishment, and you will improve! Do I make myself clear, young lady?"
Clench, unclench. Vicky had gotten in trouble. Not Amy. Vicky. Amy hadn't done anything wrong. But didn't I do wrong by being blind? Isn't that my fault?
Heart hammering, she watched the door open. Saw the anger and hurt in her sister's face as she passed.
She had a say something. The restless energy inside her demanded release.
"Carol, we need to talk about my work at the hospital."
The women sat at behind her desk, one hand rubbingt her forehead. "This is not the time Amy. I have other concerns right now." For a moment, Amy considered just dropping it.
"No. We need to talk now." Amy had always said yes. She said yes when she was told to heal. She said yes when the Protectorat called for help, when her family said that Panacea would attend the Endbringer fights, when Vicky needed help because she went too far.
Carol straightened in her chair, her eyes hard and scowled. Amy refused to look away, that energy churning inside filled her veins and demanded she not back down.
"Sit."
Amy walked over, put her hands on the back of the chair, and stayed standing.
Carol's frown deepened.
Where to start?
"I read my contract today. The one you signed for me."
"What of it?" Carol the Lawyer answered back. Cool, calm, collected, neutral.
Amy wanted more. She would prefer anger, or sorrow. Any kind of reaction.
"You didn't even tell me that one existed! I was told that I would be helping the hospital. Helping people! They gave me patients and I healed every single one of them! And now I learnt that I'm only helping those who pay?!" Amy didn't want to shout. Carol had taught her that. "The first one to raise their voice to win an argument has already lost". But she put every inch of force that she could into her words.
"What happened to, "a hero should act for what's right, not for money"? You taught us that!"
Carol stared back quietly, waiting. The silence stretched. Amy wanted to scream, but this was another lesson Carol had taught.
She finally sat.
When Carol spoke, it was in clear even tones. "Yes. I signed a contract. It protects you, and it protects the hospital. The payments are necessary. You bill the hospital, so the hospital bills the insurance agency. The hospital then collects the insurance payment.
"And then we get our cut?" Amy spit out the last words like a curse.
"Yes. The money goes to the New Wave Fund, which we use for donations to support other causes." Amy's mind raced. What causes had the team supported recently?
"The Mayor's election campaign" said Amy, remembering distant days when she would watch Carol and Mark on TV with Vicky chattering happily next to her.
Carol nodded, "Yes, among other things. We don't give out money lightly. There is significant amount of vetting before we agree to support any cause." But what about me? I don't get a say?
Silence fell between them. Amy hoped for more, but it was clear that Carol was done talking.
"And the charity list? The people who can't pay?"
Carol leaned back in her chair, her face still hard. "We are heroes. You are a hero. It's natural to support people less fortunate."
"But you don't approve everyone, do you?" It was an accusation. Open defiance, and Carol leaned forward to fire back.
"Amy, every doctor someday comes to realize that they can't help everyone. There aren't enough hands, there aren't enough hours in the day. You are no different. Yes. I review every charity case presented to me. I read the justifications and listen to the doctor's advice."
"It should be me who decides. It's my power!"
Slam* Carol's hand impacted the desk. Amy jolted.
"What did I tell you to do if someone asks for healing in the street?"
Amy responded by rout, from memory. "I don't take personal requests for healing."
Carol nodded. "Yes. Panacea does not take personal requests. Everyone knows this. It's what keeps you from getting swarmed on the streets. It keeps this house from being picketed. And!"
The older women sighed and relaxed back into her chair. "… and it keeps you from having to chose who lives and who dies." Amy was stunned, Carol's words hitting unexpectedly.
She took the silence to keep going. "You were fourteen when you started healing. Too young for that kind of responsibility."
Amy felt small for a moment, like a child being scolded for something she didn't understand. Half angry, half thoughtful. "But we're heroes. We're meant to help everyone."
"No." Carol responded instantly. "We don't help everyone. We don't help villains. We put our efforts into helping the most deserving." I helped a gang member today, because he could pay. And a girl who couldn't pay was left blind.
"Is that why you denied treatment for Taylor Hebert?" Another accusation.
"This conversation is over."
Bang* Amy slammed her hands down on the desk, leaping to her feet. "A fifteen year old girl was left blind! What's the justification for that!?"
Carol frowned and for a moment Amy thought she could see light coalesce around the women's fists. "When the incident happened, there was a lot of back and forth about who the guilty party was. It was better to stay out of it."
"And since then?"
"Since then, she's only proven that she's a villain by another name. She's caused havoc with the PRT, provoked tensions in the government, undermined the mayor, and has shamelessly profited instead of helping the public. She's surrounded herself with people with bad intentions, and shows no sign of stopping."
Carol was standing now, staring down at Amy. "The fact that you would support this girl is concerning." Her face was cold, implacable. The hero Brandish condemning the criminal. "You. Are. A hero. Hold yourself to a higher standard." Her gaze worked over Amy's tense form, searching for… something.
Amy ducked her head. She hated when Carol looked at her like that, like she was looking for weakness, like she was a witness on the stand, and Carol the Lawyer was about to tear her apart with words. Or like Brandish the Hero might strike her down with energy blades
"I understand."
"Good." Carol sat, returning to the papers on her desk. "This discussion is over, understand? You will go to the hospital. You will heal who you're told. No more talk about Zero Dawn or Taylor Hebert. She's caused enough problems for this family."
Amy left the office, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin. The energy that once filled her was gone, leaving her hollow. Exhausted she flopped onto her bed, her thoughts circling around everything that she learnt and said.
It was hours later that Vicky woke her up with a plate of food. Amy had missed dinner. With a quiet thank-you, she closed the door before her sister could say a word. Sitting on her bed, Amy ate. Thinking about the future.
(T-Minus 15 Days)
Amy clenched her hands.
This was stupid. There were a million reasons why this was stupid. She shouldn't be here, on the bus, heading deeper into the Docks area. She shouldn't be focusing on what that girl said. She should just be leaving everything alone.
She was stupid.
She unclenched her hands. She got off the bus.
The Docks were more of a concept to her than a real place. She would hear about them in news reports, often accompanied by words like "violence, murder, drug arrests" and other fun nouns. New Wave would discuss the Docks and reference police reports, patrol routes, and cape sightings or cape fights. Victoria would patrol the area and come back with stories of criminals that she swooped down on, the fights that she took part in, and the crimes she witnessed.
Walking along the cracked sidewalks, seeing the overgrown green spaces and boarded up windows on houses and shops… it made the Docks real to her. Amy could feel the abandonment, okay, maybe not. But she could certainly see it. And hear it. Walking through the city made one familiar to the noise. Cars going by, sirens in the distance, people moving around, conversation in the air. Very little of that existed out here.
Amy clenched her hands. This was stupid. She rubbed her hands against her pants; they kept sweating.
It hadn't taken a lot to find the address of Zero Dawn Technologies. The news and discussion forums were diving into anything the company was doing. But even without an exact address, Amy probably could have found it on her own. You could hear it in the distance. Trucks and cars moving around, the sound of tools on metal.
The place didn't look like much. A refurbished fence around refurbished buildings. Only the sign at the front shone with new paint.
Amy unclenched her hands.
She walked up to the gate guard, "My name is Amy Dallon. Panacea. I'd like to speak with Taylor Hebert."
It was an awkward few minutes before she was let through security, being met by a harried employee who didn't introduce themselves. No attempt at small talk was made; Amy was grateful for the absence. Even if it meant she was stuck with only her thoughts for company; she had always been aggravated by 'light conversation'.
Amy clenched her hands.
Her mind was busy enough as it was, filled to the brim with how this conversation would go with the fiery inventor whose mere existence had caused so much chaos.
Amy wasn't supposed to be here. Carol made that absolutely clear. She was supposed to leave all of this alone. But I don't want to. I can't.
Amy unclenched her hands.
Amy clenched her hands.
The healer was told to wait in a quiet room off to the side in one of the buildings. Coffee maker, fridge, a few chairs. This was obviously a break room for the staff. Amy sat wishing she could have more coffee, but not wanting to impose on what would already be a complicated conversation.
She tried not to watch the door. She watched the clock.
Amy unclenched her hands.
The door opened and Amy looked up. Taylor stood frozen in the doorway. On her temple, a glowing triangle device projected a segmented circle in the air. Its slow rotation was the only movement in the room. Large black sunglasses covered everything around her eyes.
"Panacea. I'm formally letting you know that this conversation is being recorded. If you do not consent to be recorded, you are free to leave the premises. I'll have one of my employees show you the door."
"It's Amy. And yes, fine. Whatever you want."
Taylor marching over to the coffee machine. Amy watched the willowy brunette's back as she placed her glasses on the counter and began to expertly prepare a mug. It was hard to remember sometimes that this girl was blind given how adeptly she maneuvered around the world. Taylor spoke, her tone dry. "I have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to do it. What do you want Amy? I've already extended my apologies for my words towards your sister."
"I…" Amy pinched the long sleeves of her jacket. "I wanted to say sorry? I didn't know about you, in the hospital I mean. They didn't give your file to me." She looked down at the table, not wanting to see those blind eyes as Taylor turned around. "I didn't know"
Silence
"If you didn't know, then why are you apologizing? If you had no hand in things, then it's pointless to say 'sorry' on someone else's behalf."
Amy clenched her hands.
What was better… letting the matter go, or telling the truth? Amy didn't know. But she had failed. She didn't even know how many patients she had let down. But she could apologize to this one.
"There… there's a list. A charity list. The doctors had put you on it." Amy felt the disgust twist her insides. "You weren't approved." Every word felt like stones passing through her teeth. But I am a hero. I have to be better.
Her knuckles hurt. Nails dug into skin. Amy couldn't let go.
Steps walking towards her. The chair across the table pulled out, Taylor took a seat.
Amy waited for the shouts. Waited for the mug to bash her skull in. Waited for the cutting rage that she had seen once before at Arcadia.
I deserve it.
"And who does the approving?"
"Carol. My mother. I didn't know."
"Oh."
Silence. The hum of the lights. Sounds of breathing.
Amy peeked up. Taylor stared down down at the table. Her hand clasping her coffee mug with white knuckles. Her jaw clenched as she…
"I am just trying to fucking fix things!" Taylor seethed. Her voice wet, filled with the tears that she refused to shed.
Taylor breathed.
"So… you apologizing. That on her behalf? Or because 'you didn't know'."
"Just me." Amy understood the anger towards Carol. She felt it too. The anger at taking her own choices away. At making her an unwitting part of this mess.
Just a little, Amy unclenched her hands. The muscles strained, sore from tension.
"You said… before at Arcadia, you said you're going to change the world. What did you mean?"
Taylor's breathing slowed, and if she rubbed at her eyes, Amy pretended to not notice.
"This?" She tapped the triangle attached to her temple. "I have three versions ready for market. The money I make from selling them is all going back into the company, so I can build more things. Communication infrastructure. Computer components. Hell, I've got blueprints for a hologram system that is going to make movies a whole lot more interesting."
Amy giggled in frank amusement. "You are going to piss off so many people."
"That's the thing about changing the world. You can't always wait around asking for permission." The blind inventor took a pull from her coffee, scowling and muttering that it went cold.
Amy had an idea then. It was stupid. It was against everything that Carol had told her. But being brave is what heroes do. I ruined her life. Time to balance the scales.
"Can I… show you something?"
"Hmm?" Taylor tilted her head as Amy reached forward, plucking an apple from the bowl on the table.
It was so easy. She could feel the composition of everything that made the apple what it was. And she ordered it to change. The apple sagged as it collapsed in on itself, then from the resulting slurry a new shape emerged. A bulb formed, then the green shoot pushed itself up, broad leaves stretched out, and a vibrant pink bloom unfolded. In seconds, Amy help a tulip in her hands. It was… a rush. To see the material changing in her mind, to finally just… do something with her powers that wasn't healing the same systems again and again.
"You… you can." Taylor spoke in hushed tones, blind eyes fixed on Amy's hands. "Bio-manipulation. No, wait. Healing, touch based. You're a bio-kinetic."
Amy shrank down, preferring to look at the flower in her hands instead of the girl sitting across from her.
"And they have you healing in a hospital?!" Amy didn't expect Taylor to be so aghast. She met Taylor's incredulous stare. Amy felt her cheeks flush, this wasn't going as she expected.
"It…there… it was safer?"
"Ha! Safer for who? For you or the world?"
"Both…"
"Ooohhh… Optics, right. The only thing New Wave cares about. Can't have the healer be a big scary bio-tinker. Jesus…"
Taylor seemed to see Amy properly for the first time. Her fingers twitched, and her eyes darted back and forth for a moment.
"I've deleted the records of this conversation. I know why you wanted to keep this hidden. I don't agree with it, I think it's the stupidest thing I've heard in a long while… but you want it hidden." She shrugged.
Something inside Amy uncoiled and she could breath a little easier.
"Why stupid?" Amy looked around, wondering what to do with the flower in her hands.
"Amy… you are the walking answer to world hunger. You can create crops to survive in any environment. You can develop vaccines and cures for things that thousands of people suffer from. You could break this whole medical industry over your knee and make sure that millions of people live better lives… and instead? You're patching up gangbangers in the ER."
Taylor continued, "you could be a real hero… to so many. A hero greater than your sister ever could be. A hero who'll change the world. Instead…" Taylor was blind. Amy knew this, but she felt the weight and disappointment in the younger woman's eyes. Hard to imagine that this girl was fifteen. She felt more a disappointed teacher.
Amy's cheeks flushed. She fumbled as she murmured. "You sound like you're trying to recruit me."
"Sure, if you want, I would hire you in a heartbeat. You're not even a tinker! Biology is biology. The building blocks are all the same. It's just a question of assembling as you want. Which you can do." Taylor shrugged. She stood, dumping the last of her cold coffee in the sink, then came back with the mug. Tentatively, she placed the flower in it, running her fingers over the shape of the petals. A rare smile spread across her face. "Tulips…"
"I…" Amy dusted her hands off. This was stupid. But it was her decision. And it felt good. "I might be willing."
Taylor blinked. A slow smile spread across her face. "Ok… I might have to temper expectations. I am too busy right now. The Endbringer window opens in fifteen days. After… well, after. Once my machines prove themselves, I'll have more freedom. If you're still interested then… we can make something happen."
Amy's stomach sank, thinking about the next time she would be on the battlefield with one of those beasts. Focusing on the possibilities of after was much more appealing. "If I bring something impressive, don't suppose you'll give me a sign on bonus?" She giggled, thinking on everything she could make.
Taylor leaned back, tilting her head up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "You've got more experience then me, what does a hospital always need more of?"
"The three B's. Beds, blood, and bandages." The long hours working with nurses and doctors had given Amy an insiders view of the hospital.
"There you go." Taylor shrugged. "Blood. Synthetic, or real, something to replace the constant demand for blood drives. For any patient regardless of blood type. Maybe loaded with anti-bodies or something to promote healing?"
"Hmm… I think I could make that work. I'll have to test it.." Her thoughts drifted and she smiled she imagined how to go about making it.
"Well. I look forward to seeing what you can do. I'm going back to work, I'll send someone to show you out." Taylor stood, and Amy leaped to her feet.
"Wait! Um…" Amy pulled what remained of her courage together. "Do… do you want me to heal you?"
Taylor breathing hitched. The healer held her position, hand stretched out. She didn't know what she was hoping to do with this. Fix her mistakes? Make up for things? But it felt like the right thing to do.
"No."
The words hit Amy like a fist to the gut. Oh course she wouldn't trust me. She's scared of me. Of what I can do. Even if our talk was fun, and she offered me a place here.
"No… I'm going to keep these scars. So that the girls who did this to me can see that they didn't stop me."
That was… so incredibly petty and brave at the same time. Left unsaid was that the scars would also remind Amy of her own blindness, of the times that she let others dictate her own actions. Amy dropped her hand. Maybe Taylor didn't mean it that way. But still, It was worth remembering.
"But… I appreciate the offer." Taylor stepped forward. She offered a handshake. Amy grasped for it, feeling foolish for dropping hers just a moment ago.
Biology unfurled before her mind's eye. Scarred cornea, damaged sclera, scarred conjunctiva. Discolouration of the skin across the face and neck. Elevated heart rate, high amounts of caffein in the system. Signs of stress and lack of sleep in the brain chemistry. Slightly underweight for body type. No sign of pain from injuries, nerves not damaged.
Amy kept an iron grip on her powers. She had limits.
The two girls shook. This felt like the start of something. Not a friendship, it was too soon for that, too much recent baggage. But Amy felt happy. It was rare she felt that way.
"Alright, I'll see you… after." After the next city was condemned. After Amy tried again to keep capes alive so they could return to fight a relentless being that they had no hope against. After the bodies had been counted, the memorials erected, and the tears shed.
"After."
With a final shake, Taylor walked out the door. Leaving the tulip sitting in a coffee mug, alone on the break room table.
An employee arrived moments later, and escorted Amy out of the building. Back in the evening air, she returned to the Docks. Out from the complex world of Taylor Hebert and all the conflicting feelings she brought with her.
Things weren't fixed. Not by a long shot. But Amy felt… lighter. Breathed easier. She had a plan, it was her's. And that felt good enough for now.
She breathed in.
Breathed out.
And unclenched her hands.
END