The sun was setting when the whirlwind that was a Victoria Dallon Shopping Expedition finally petered out, and Mei was thoroughly shopped-out by the end of it all.
The blonde had suggested dozens of different outfits, badgered them into trying a significant fraction of those, and all while keeping the energy level high with boundless enthusiasm. Mei… couldn't say she disliked it, though. She certainly wasn't in love with the experience, but there was something rather nice about getting to try shopping with a girl her age, without the restrictions of a life keeping her head down, or a reputation to maintain. It was frivolous, certainly, and she would struggle to justify doing it more than once in a blue moon… but it was, she admitted, nice.
It helped that Victoria was covering the bill. She wouldn't take advantage of the other girl's generosity, but neither would she be rude enough to refuse the gesture entirely after she insisted on it.
Amy, on the other hand, seemed ill-at-ease the whole time. Uncertain and uneasy when asked to give her opinion of Mei's outfits, embarrassed and uncomfortable when asked to model ones Victoria picked out, and a strange combination of sarcastic and energetic when Victoria herself tried a few blouses on. Perhaps that sort of friction was more familiar ground for her? It didn't seem to have much to do with the clothing itself, oddly enough, but more the act of looking, or of being looked at.
Very strange indeed, and she felt a bit bad for the girl… though Mei could see a bit of a spring in her step even as she drooped with exhaustion. At least the evening hadn't been a
total misery for her.
They were passing in front of a restaurant – a nice Indian place, by the looks of it – when Victoria's phone went off, a parade of cheerful tones erupting. Amy blinked. Victoria checked it, and her eyes widened.
"Oh no!" she exclaimed, thumbing off the alarm. "I forgot I have to patrol tonight!"
"Vicky…" Amy sighed.
"Sorry gotta go!" She reached out, taking Amy's bags from her, then turning and grabbing Mei's from her startled hands. "I'll drop these off at your place later!"
Victoria babbled something about dinner being on her while pressing a few bills into Amy's hand, not letting either of them get a word in edgewise, and zoomed away into the air.
Amy sighed again, turning her gaze to Mei. "I'm sorry for her… her-ness."
"Is she that routinely forgetful?"
Amy sighed. "Some days, yeah. You'd think for someone who spent so much time on her phone, she'd be better at tracking time."
Mei frowned. Victoria
had spent a lot of time checking her phone. And had stalled them a block down, ogling a window display that she insisted on taking pictures of. Which had left them right in front of the restaurant when she had taken their things… and given Amy dinner money. Her eyes widened. Money that Victoria
hadn't been keeping in her wallet. She'd taken those bills out ahead of time. Which meant…
Mei's frown deepened. Why would Victoria have been deliberately leaving the two of them alone at a dinner place? That was a very strange decision. Did she feel Amy wasn't eating enough, maybe? Or wanted to treat one of them for suffering through the ordeal?
Amy shifted back and forth from foot to foot, looking between Mei and the restaurant. "Well… do you like Indian?" she asked.
Mei sighed and shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I have to get home to get dinner started, myself."
Amy blinked. "You do the cooking?"
"Most nights, yes. Bronya's cooking is serviceable, but I'm better in the kitchen, and I enjoy it."
Amy hesitated a moment. "What about… Kiana?"
Mei closed her eyes, the scent of smoke and chemical fumes coming to mind unbidden. "Kiana is not permitted to touch any of the cooking appliances. Not after the Incident."
Amy stared blankly, clearly not sure how to take that.
The two stood there awkwardly, Mei mentally figuring out the best route home. It was after dark, so being a lone girl might draw some annoying attention. She glanced down at the shorter girl and frowned. She didn't want to just leave the healer on her own. Besides, if Victoria had wanted her to eat better, then she didn't want the effort she went to for this (bizarre) plan to go to waste. Basic courtesy, and decency, gave her a solution, if an awkward one.
"That aside," Mei said, breaking the silence, "it's not exactly safe to be a lone girl heading home after dark."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Says the girl planning to go home alone after dark."
"There are some… other factors there." Mei shrugged a bit awkwardly. Surely Amy knew she was a parahuman after her earlier healing. Though she
had been 'rescued' earlier, so perhaps it wasn't an unreasonable thought.
"You're saying that you can…" she stopped herself short, glancing around at passers-by. "Take care of yourself?"
"Yes."
"And that I can't."
Mei winced. "Apologies, that came out wrong. Do you feel safe going home by yourself, from here?"
She shrugged. "It is what it is. Not like there's another option."
Was that an intentional deflection, or was she genuinely missing the subtext? If she was missing it, that was a worrying lack of concern for her own safety. After a moment's consideration, she smiled at Amy.
"Well, you're welcome at our table tonight, and your sister can pick you up later."
Amy stopped dead. Mei had no idea what was going on in her mind, expressions flashing across her face too quickly to read. Had she done something wrong? Was she overstepping? Others at Arcadia invited one another over for dinners sometimes, but her grasp on that etiquette was theoretical at best.
"... it." Amy mumbled, just barely loud enough to hear.
"I'm sorry, I think I missed something you–"
"Sure. Let's do that." She took a steadying breath. "Thanks. That makes the evening a lot easier."
"I'm happy to have you; Kiana and I both owe you, and I wouldn't want to disappoint your sister."
Amy gave Mei a confused look, but didn't reply.
"First, though, you should text Victoria, so she is not surprised to not find you where she left you." And Mei would text Bronya, so she'd know to put away any
projects she had out in the open.
"Huh? Why… oh! Right. Thanks."
She was a strange one, but that wasn't a problem. Mei was used to strange.
The car was silent, the atmosphere so thick with tension it felt like it was choking her. Emma sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed firmly on her lap, almost curled inward on herself.
Anne kept her eyes on the road, thoughts whirling, only her focus on the mechanical task of driving keeping her from getting lost in them entirely.
This was… it was so much, all at once. She needed time to process it, to figure out what was really going on and how she felt, but the adults hadn't been willing to give themselves, let alone her, that time. The way the argument had escalated, her parents and Annette pulling out ancient barbs and throwing them at one another, the actual genuine anger and spite backing them blew her away. She knew that being angry at someone didn't preclude loving them, of course, but that had been so much more than the rare arguments she had overheard between them before.
She'd like to say that she didn't understand where they were coming from, that this was all a momentary overreaction, but she knew it was more than a moment of heightened tensions, an ill-considered snap that boiled over.
Annette was obviously furious, to a level she hadn't seen before. Even when she'd seemed calm and controlled, Anne was sure she'd seen vicious smugness in her eyes as she dropped a seemingly-casual verbal knife. She'd never seen the woman like that before; Annette was kind and reasonable in her experience, always willing to give students a chance to make up missed work, or to help them beyond her normal office hours. Always straightforward and empathetic, even in frustrating situations.
Maybe the answer there was simple, though. She'd never seen Annette when Taylor or Danny were hurt, or threatened. When he'd died, her parents had visited Annette, not the other way around. Her daughter had been hurt, that one of the people she cared for had hurt the person she loved the most. When her dad had started to deflect, Annette had seen it as denial, as collusion. And so she lashed out; what mother wouldn't? It made sense.
Her mom was likely shocked, disappointed, and angry. Emma had let her down, and she felt betrayed. Her mom and dad had both failed to keep an eye on Emma. Or, if Annette's "simple" question was right, he
had been keeping an eye on her, and simply condoned it. There had been history there, some event they were talking around. Emma's side of the story would hopefully shed some light on that. But in the end, their mom had wanted to find something, someone to blame. Whether because she felt she genuinely wasn't at fault, or because she needed a sin-eater so she could absolve herself of guilt, Anne wasn't sure.
Her dad was too calm, too composed. She wasn't sure if Annette was right in her accusation that he had known. Given that he hadn't even tried to deny the accusation, he had to at least have
suspected that something was wrong. So, then, he was afraid of the consequences of his complicity, and looking for ways to deflect blame, or to hit back when he was attacked. Had he even been trying to protect Emma, or was that just a byproduct?
The moment where Emma had burst out about Sophia – that was the track girl she was friends with, right? – stuck in her mind. Emma had broken her silence, spoken out boldly, and he had just ignored it, treating it as another indicator that she was broken
, rather than trying to get her to explain, find out how to help her. Did you really even care for someone if you didn't
try? Anne didn't think so.
It was unacceptable. How could he be that callous? But then, she supposed there was a reason, when she was upset, that she always went to her mom first.
Emma, though… Emma, she didn't understand. She knew her little sister, and she knew Taylor. The two had been inseparable. They'd been deep in puppy love to anyone with eyes. Emma had looked up to Taylor, if the way she trailed behind her was any indicator. This bullying, this journal, it didn't
make sense. She'd known they had some sort of spat, or falling out, but that was normal when someone was getting into high school. Teenage arguments didn't end in this kind of spiteful harassment. She was missing something.
Anne pulled into a parking spot right by her dorm. At least winter break meant she had her pick of them; during the semester proper she usually had to walk halfway across campus. Emma started as the car's engine cut out.
"Where…?"
"School," Anne replied. "You can stay here for a bit. While we figure things out." Figure out what was happening. What was going on with their parents. If their parents were going to be just another of the statistics that fed her dad's work.
She didn't
want to think that. She thought it was unlikely, honestly. But if they had truly been on thinner ice than they seemed, if she'd missed some clues, it was possible. What if they had just been staying together until Emma was out of the house? People did that, sometimes, she knew.
Emma nodded mutely and followed along. Anne frowned as she led the way through the near-silent hall. Something was wrong here, too. Not just with what Emma had presumably done, but how she was reacting here. Emma had been curious, questioning, when she was younger. Now she was bold, proud, and pushed back against consequence and criticism. Anne was a bit jealous, honestly. She'd never been that confident, never been the social butterfly Emma had turned out to be.
So why hadn't Emma spoken out in her own defense? She'd just sat there, looking just… small. That was the impression that stuck with her. That Emma just wanted to sink through the world and disappear. That wasn't the Emma she knew. Or thought she knew, at least. Had she just been wrong about her sister this whole time?
She didn't want to think that she'd misjudged Emma so badly. But if she had… what else was she wrong about?
Anne unlocked her door, gesturing for Emma to enter her room. Emma complied, silent as she'd been since they left. As she'd been for the whole argument, except for when Sophia had come up.
Sophia had drawn out the fire Emma couldn't muster for herself.
She didn't know what that meant, or where that piece fit into the puzzle. But she knew that it was one to keep an eye on.
Amy was, she had to admit, taken aback when she saw their house. She'd assumed the three girls lived in an apartment complex or something, not a worn-down single-story in a sketchy neighborhood. It was Watch territory, she thought, though she wasn't quite sure, and the Watch didn't really tag things like the other gangs tended to. It might be ABB territory instead. She'd texted Vicky with their address, so she would know if the trio tried something stupid like kidnapping her. Which, granted, seemed unlikely.
Kiana was a dork and probably couldn't keep a secret to save her life, and… alright, Bronya was a little scary, but it would have been dumb for someone to kidnap her after having a public confrontation with her. Mei she wasn't quite sure about, if she was honest. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but something about her state after that confrontation didn't seem quite right; neurotransmitters and hormones that didn't quite make sense for someone who was afraid,
or for someone just acting afraid. If she was more practiced at reading emotions with her powers she could probably figure it out, but the only person whose system she was that familiar with was Vicky's, and she didn't count. For so many reasons.
"Ah, Amy?" Amy jolted back into the present, finding Mei holding the front door open. "Is everything alright?" Her eyes were concerned.
"Uh, sorry. Just distracted." Amy forced a smile and hurried inside.
She waited in the hallway, not quite sure what to do, and found with some surprise that the interior was nicer than the exterior. Not luxurious, by any means, but where the outside was faded and cracked paint and old wooden steps, the inside looked much newer, recently painted and in good repair.
"Oh, shoes off please," Mei asked, gesturing at a neat pair of shelves with shoes on them as she removed her own. "You don't need slippers, though."
"Uh, okay?" Amy took her shoes off. A shoes-off house she supposed she understood, strange as it was, but why would she need slippers?
As Mei hung her jacket on the coat rack, Amy's eyes were drawn to the entryway closet, its door half-open to reveal some kind of gun harness, with two pistols hanging in it. She swallowed. A self-defense weapon made sense, given the neighborhood – not that they had one at home, but most of them had powers that made that irrelevant – but two, and a harness? She didn't know what to make of that, but… maybe it was normal?
Let's just go with that, she decided while following Mei into the living room. Normal. Like the rest of their place.
She glanced around, taking it in as they entered the living room. There was a faint chemical smell she didn't recognize, a little bit like some of the cleaners they used at the hospital. Some off-brand cleaning product, probably. Bronya was on the couch, a controller Amy couldn't quite identify in her hands (not that she was any sort of expert), facing a large flat-screen television inset into an entertainment center. Whatever she was playing was loud, filled with explosions and the clanging of metal. A hoodie, too big to be Bronya's – such a hoodie would devour the girl whole and still have room for dessert – and too bright to be Mei's, laid over the arm of the couch. A few ancient textbooks – they had to be Kiana's, Arcadia's were actually up to date – were piled precariously against one wall.
Aside from the gratuitous television, the decoration was low budget, and… well, eclectic would be the diplomatic way to put it. And she was visiting their home, so she'd be diplomatic, and not use any of the other applicable words. Posters featuring some sort of rabbit-eared cartoon creature were intermixed with those old-style Japanese paintings and the occasional calligraphy-looking scroll, forming a bizarre, almost whiplash-inducing lack-of-style.
Photographs were concentrated in one location, above a small standing table with three wooden boxes on it. Kiana was only in one of them, a scratched and worn framed photograph of a much younger Kiana – or, she supposed,
another blue-eyed girl with braided white hair – and an older man. He had the same hair (albeit shorter), the same eyes, and the same cocky confidence that Kiana had shown in the hospital.
It was cuter on her.
Probably too old to be a brother, though you never knew. Father, she'd guess, or maybe uncle.
Kiana closed her eyes, and when she opened them Amy could see the sudden shimmer of tears. Not that she needed to,with the way she crumpled inward. Girl really wore her heart on her sleeve. "I was in Nagazora, when…"
Had this been the only photo she could rescue in the chaos? It was obviously years old, even if you figured it was of some other, younger girl.
Two photographs of Bronya; one of her, a couple years younger, pressing her cheek against that of a girl with jaw-length hair that was somehow simultaneously black and blue. She wasn't quite sure how that worked, but it was certainly striking. Both girls were smiling, Bronya somewhat perplexedly, and making peace signs for the camera. Oddly, Bronya's hair was closer to gray in that photograph. Hair changing as someone aged was common, but usually it got
darker, not lighter. Strange lighting, perhaps.
The other photograph was more interesting. Bronya stood next to the dark-haired girl again, and next to them were a handful of others who looked a bit younger. A girl with long red hair and muddy clothes. A pair, one with pink hair and one with blue, leaning together and grinning happily. One with braided green hair. Another with plain brown hair, smiling with her eyes locked on the camera. Behind them stood two people, but she couldn't tell the details, because both had been
burnt out of the photograph. All that remained was hints of them that could be seen through the girls, and wisps of hair – both blondes, one shorter than the other.
Before Amy could do more than glance at the photographs that presumably belonged to Mei – one of a black-haired man and woman, one of a small black-haired girl and brown-haired woman – Bronya paused the game she was playing, sounds of battle ceasing to play from the television. She looked over and nodded.
"Welcome back, Mei. Hello, Amelia."
Amy's jaw clenched. "It's Amy. I don't use Amelia."
"Ah. Understood. Hello, Amy."
Mei, however, was frowning. "Where is Kiana?"
Bronya shrugged. "Kiana Idiotka has not returned home yet. I have not called her to check."
Mei sighed. "Text her, please? Tell her it's pesto pasta tonight, that might get her moving." She paused. "If you have no objection, Amy?"
"No, that's fine." Amy said absently, then realized she'd sounded like she expected to freeload off of them. "I can give you a hand, I'm used to meal prep." She didn't
like it, except for it giving her something to do with Vicky, but she was perfectly capable.
"No, you're a guest." Mei shook her head. Amy breathed a carefully-internal sigh of relief. "I will be fine. Maybe there is something you can play with Bronya?"
Amy twitched. What was she, a child to be placated? Mei couldn't be any older than she was! She didn't play games that weren't on a phone, and Bronya obviously wouldn't want to be interrupted with hers.
"Mm." Bronya examined Amy. "Yes.
Behemoth Battler: Wild Continent and
Core Rush Squadron both feature co-operative modes suitable for beginners."
Wait, what? "Uh,
Behemoth Battler is that one about hunting giant monsters and scavenged technology, right? My cousin won't shut up about it." She'd seen him play once, and she couldn't say she saw the appeal.
"Excellent, that will suffice." Bronya shifted over on the couch and held up a second controller, wordlessly beckoning Amy. Amy hid a grimace as she realized it would be rude to refuse at this point. But, well, it was better than staring blankly at the wall posters while Mei cooked. "There are several tactics requiring a second participant that I wish to attempt. First, however, an introductory course on combat, and finding a play style that you prefer. There are, you see, several weapon styles to choose from."
When Anne returned to her room, two foil-covered paper plates in hand, she found Emma laying on her side on the spare bed, staring at her phone.
"I brought food," she said, handing a plate over to Emma. "Not as good as anything mom makes, and honestly I think the dining hall itself is better, but it's better than heating something in the microwave."
Emma nodded, unwrapping the foil, revealing grilled cheese and french fries, which she stared at for a long moment.
Anne shrugged. "Look, college student. And you can't say tonight's dinner was going to be any less carb-loaded."
Emma considered that for a moment, then nodded again, taking a testing bite, then practically
inhaling it, like she hadn't eaten in days. Annette blinked, then unwrapped her own plate, depositing half of her fries on Emma's plate before getting started on her own dinner.
Once both plates had been cleared and deposited in the trash, Anne took a deep breath, and sighed. She'd given herself until they finished dinner to come up with a better approach, and come up blank. So here went nothing.
"Okay. Emma?"
Emma looked up from the phone she was staring at moodily.
Just keep it straightforward, Anne. Straightforward and simple. "Talk to me. Please?"
Emma froze, for all the world like a deer in the headlights. "Why?"
Keep your voice level, compassionate, Anne. No sudden shifts. "I can't help if you won't talk to me, Emma."
She let out a short laugh, bitter with a touch of hysteria. Anne's eyes widened, and her heart clenched in sympathetic pain. "I saw how you looked at me. You're just looking for an excuse." Anne frowned. An excuse for what?
"Emma." Anne hesitated. "I won't lie and say that part of me isn't mad at you. But I love you. You're my
sister. That means something. I'm sticking by you until we're through this." Emma looked away and wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. Anne pretended she hadn't seen, frowning internally. What had triggered that? "I need to know what's going on, so I can do my best to help you, and keep you safe."
When Emma looked back, her expression was openly frustrated. Spiteful. Had she stepped on a landmine? Or was she just that unreasonable right now? Emma let out a bitter bark of laughter. "Like
you could do that. What could
you keep safe, anyway? Some crap fanfic won't help anything."
Anne winced at the stab of hurt that shot through her at the words. Emma was hurting, so she was lashing out, she reminded herself. She took a deep breath. Composed herself. She could be the bigger person here.
"Alright. Changing the subject for now. I'm going to ask Crystal to pick up some things for us from the house, since I don't think either of us want to see mom and dad right now. Is there anything specific you want besides a few changes of clothes? Your laptop, I figure, and a phone charger?"
"Backpack too." Emma answered automatically, then froze. "Wait, Crystal
Pelham? As in,
Laserdream?" Anne nodded, and Emma looked like she'd just learned the Earth had been flat all along. "How the fuck do you have her doing errands for you?"
"I wouldn't say 'doing errands.' She's a friend, and I think she'll help out," Anne answered, firing off a quick text. Friend was probably reductive, honestly, but she didn't know how she'd characterize that relationship either. The only reason her room still
had the second bed was because on the first night of the semester she'd stayed up late enough with Crystal that the other girl hadn't wanted to fly home. She spent enough nights here that it was worth keeping, even if usually it was just storage.
"Huh."
What had prompted that shift? The knowledge that she had a friend who is a cape? Maybe that's the protection she wants? Does she think someone is after her or something? Had she been
blackmailed into hurting Taylor? That would explain a lot, if true, but who, and why? Her phone buzzed back, Crystal saying she'd be happy to help. Good.
When she looked back to Emma, her sister was doing something on her phone. Anne worried at her lip, thinking for a long moment, then sighed and fetched her laptop. She was fresh out of ideas on how to help. She'd try talking to her again in the morning.
In the meantime, at least she could do something productive, like edit the fic she'd bashed out the night before. She blanched as she scrolled over it. Or maybe just rewrite the whole thing.
Yeah, maybe that would be better. No one deserved to be forced to read this. What was she
thinking?
"Finally," Amy let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as the monster, a huge hexapedal thing with a carapace that dripped lava, finally fell. "We got it!"
"Good hunt," Bronya agreed. "You have learned quite quickly. I have difficulty defeating the Kelshtaron with that speed on my own. A companion is even more impactful than I had believed."
Amy grinned. The tiny Russian girl had intimidated her before, but once she realized Bronya just talked like that to everybody, most of that had faded away. She held up a hand for a high five, still flush with the adrenaline of the battle. The smaller girl half-raised her hand, then lowered it again. Amy lowered her hand after a few awkward seconds, flushing with embarrassment. Had it been
that weird? It had been that weird, hadn't it. Stupid, stupid Amy, you can't just–
"Would you like to do another hunt?" Bronya asked.
Amy shook her head, refocused. "I, uh, sure. Let's. That was good!" Surprisingly so, even. She'd expected it to be some dumb button masher like at the arcade, but there was a lot of thought that went into playing.
Bronya inclined her head. "In that case, perhaps the–"
She was interrupted by the front door slamming open, then shut again. Amy jerked upright, looking over. Momentary quiet, then a shuffling of movement, a certain white-haired menace slid into view, socks gliding over the wooden floor. "I'm hooome~" shouted a now-familiar voice, moments before its owner impacted the wall on the far side of the room. Amy winced. Bronya smirked. Mei sighed. The pile of textbooks, so precariously stacked, fell over.
"At the last possible moment, as expected," Mei said, shaking her head as Kiana regained her balance, none the worse for wear. "Come sit, all of you, it's time to eat."
Across the city, Sophia Hess, in her seat at the patrol console, looked down at her phone, sitting neatly on the desk. It buzzed, again. She grimaced. Another text from Emma.
She read it, and sighed, then straightened with an annoyed grunt, thumbing the mic. "Console to Wards," she said, "explain without being a pain in the ass."
The phone went into her pocket, this time set to Do Not Disturb.
Amy sat on the couch as the movie's credits rolled, feeling adrift, somehow, now that the direct activity was over. Mei had firmly forbidden her from helping with cleanup, and she and Bronya were doing that now. Kiana, for her part, was sprawled across two-thirds of the couch, having immediately claimed the space her roommates vacated.
Her head was just a few inches from Amy's hand, looking up at her curiously, but saying nothing, just keeping that comfortable, confident smile. Clear, sky blue eyes captured her attention; she jerked them away when she realized she'd been staring into them. Her white hair had half-escaped from the loose ponytail she had stuck it in, she realized, giving her an almost disheveled look. Amy's eyes couldn't help but linger for a moment on the sliver of exposed skin on Kiana's midriff; her shirt had ridden up a bit courtesy of her wriggling claim of the couch, but not
quite enough to expose her stomach. The stomach her powers had told her without room for doubt was well-defined, and could probably do double-duty as a cheese grater.
Amy swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and shook her head, trying to focus. Kiana was looking up at her face. Why? What reason could she have to be watching Amy? Was Amy being a creep? She wasn't…
ogling her. Much. Well, until she thought about it and now no matter how she thought about not thinking about it she couldn't help but steal a glance at the cut of her tank top, but that was just because she was there and… wait no that made it even worse. Why was she
like this? Couldn't she just be a normal fucking person for an evening rather than…
Amy closed her eyes, took a calming, regular breath, and then another. Failed to quell the anxious pounding in her chest. Setting aside cavegirl Amy, she had the chance she'd been looking for, to talk to Kiana alone. She could handle this, she just had to tell her what she had seen in her scans, make sure the girl knew that…
She swallowed, but the sour heat at the back of her throat wouldn't recede. What if Kiana knew already? What if it was a deliberate secret? Amy would already be under observation in that case, and though she didn't think Kiana could keep a secret like that, there could be embedded directives, and maybe she was wrong, maybe the girl was a consummate actress, a sleeper agent, and if Amy revealed her secret she'd attack and…
"Amy?"
Her head felt light, woozy, but her thoughts didn't stop racing. And even if she was right, and Kiana did know, what had Amy expected? Who would react well when she revealed that she had pried into their business like a fucking creep? She didn't
ask to look into people's every detail when she used their powers, except she did, she could chain away her impulse to
change and
tweak but she could only barely hold back the curiosity, the desire to look deep inside and see what made them tick, the individual details that made them
them.
"Amy, can you hear me?"
It wasn't right,
she wasn't right, it was an unforgivable invasion, what was she
thinking, trying to see Kiana and talk to her, what right did she have to interfere in someone else's life when she couldn't even manage her own, couldn't even get herself out of the stupid anxiety attack that she knew she was in but couldn't avert, seized her whole because she had no
control over herself, just a fucking time bomb waiting for it all to go–
A hand took hers, and her senses erupted in light. Her breath caught. Her whole mind dove deep, immersing itself in what her power gave her, in the sheer beauty and elegance she could find in a single, impossible muscle fiber. Fled the specter of fear, of loathing, of anxiety, into the light of that wondrous, majestic vision.
The hand still held hers, the thumb gently rubbing in slow, comforting circles.
Time blurred, stretched and warped, and she didn't know how long it had been before the haunting images finally retreated for good and she finally dared to open her eyes. They were wet with tears, she dimly realized, and so were her cheeks. Kiana was still where she had been, looking up with open concern. She didn't let go of her hand.
Kiana offered a slight, relieved smile. "Hey there, Amy. Welcome back."
Amy gave a small, fragile smile in return. "Hey."
