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The Stopwatch (Worm AU)

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Honestly it seems like she's over compensating to me. It's such a huge difference that it feels forced. Like she's trying really, really hard to be ok with her situation.
 
Please have her run into Panacea or something because her situation was awful enough before. At least she could fidget with her feet/legs and still use both hands, now she can't even do that. When every slow moment is an age and every still moment is an eternity, mobility was her only saviour. Right now she'd have to literally wave her hands non-stop to have time pass at a decent rate.

Her wheelchair? How much of that motion would be coasting along and thus not actually passing time?

This kind of disability is no joke. You've glossed over quite a few of the challenges and consequences, ones that really should have had her asking for the instant magical healing especially with her slow-mo time.
 
Hey VereoNox, post a chapter!
VereorNox said:
EDIT: I just realized that I should probably mention that I want to keep it street level. I prefer to keep Scion, Cauldron etc. out of it, because they're a narrative black hole that will just swallow everything up. So if any reader is waiting for something like that to happen, it probably won't, this isn't a power that could rival Scion or the like at all.

First of all, no, this isn't a Superhot crossover. I did write the original snips quite a while ago before I actually knew about that game (but really, I recommend it, it's the most innovative shooter I've played in years). I've decided to make it its own fic which I will write as quickly as possible to gap the time in between my blocks on Spirit of Nature and Breaking the Circle. I hope it will satisfy you well enough, the snips were popular at least when I wrote them.

Summary: There are certainties. But that what we think certain isn't always as absolute as we think it is. Not too long ago, people thought that it was certain that 'superpowers' were only things of fiction. When Taylor Hebert ends up having this certainty slapped into her face in the worst way possible. She stares at the clock in the class, and the seconds do not move.

Chapter 1: 900°/s
​

Up until a few decades ago, people would have said that the world moved forward in a certain way. It was this kind of absolute certainty that held onto people and didn't let go. Like chains that wrapped around someone's body and mind.

But sometimes, there was a moment that everyone knows well. An error in this certainty. That moment when you watch a clock and notice that the seconds are moving forward slower. That moment when you are really enjoying what you do, and what you did in hours only felt like seconds, leaving a gap inside your gut that slowly fills with disappointment.

But that was a few decades ago. Time isn't an absolute anymore. Space is just a figment of our imagination if someone with a sufficiently strong power controls it. Capes have long since proven that everything we believed to be true was but a fraction of what actually exists. Discovery after discovery with Thinkers and Tinkers, a boom of sciences.

Time and space, relativity, I wasn't really privy on that. I'm not a bad student. Far from it, yet I still don't think that Physics is actually my forte. That didn't mean I couldn't read up on it if I had all the time in the world.

The world was spinning around itself at a speed of around a thousand miles an hour. I don't think that the books and the articles online lied to me, yet I felt cheated. My hands were on the table, my legs on the ground, and the world around me was frozen. Ms. Frye was speaking, her mouth wide open, showing me a sight of yellow teeth that I wish I could forget.

Around me, all of the students in my class. Madison sat there - luckily without Sophia and Emma. She grinned at a guy who looked as if he would cream his pants right there. Disgusting. Maybe it wouldn't be if I couldn't see every movement on his face, every single muscle that twitched ever so slightly. His smile was strained, his body rigid, his eyes moving up and down her body. Degrees of movement one could only see under the best high-speed cameras in the world, a speed that could reach up to nine-hundred degrees of vision per second at the peak.

And I could see them all. I closed my eyes, slowly moving my head. The scene barely changed. The mouth still wide open, Ms. Frye's image looked worse than before, her head slightly raised now, showing the hair inside her nostrils.

When I dreamed about having powers, I didn't expect something like this. I dreamed of being a Tinker, maybe, someone like Armsmaster, or having an Alexandria-package. Such powers were 'impressive', they were 'cool', they were helpful. Instead, I received something like this - more a curse than a blessing.

Still, it had some advantages. Escape routes, for example. I could see them coming when they tried to sneak up on me, I could move around without them noticing simply by hiding myself in the right places, with the right crowds. I could even dodge things they threw at me, but I couldn't do too often. Best not to be any more suspicious than I was already. The piles of books in my room had confused Dad already, and I wasn't really sure 'studying' makes sense when it was about topics I shouldn't have in school right now.

Not like I understood half of it. No, it was mostly a test that spiraled down a certain pattern, and instead of reading Wikipedia articles, I read books. It had something comforting, it gave me a certain sense of progression.

I sighed, lifting my heel off the floor and starting to bounce my leg up and down. Repeating the movement again and again, the class continued, the frozen world suddenly breaking out into a normal speed. I had to keep moving, no matter how much my leg might hurt. Or else I would remain frozen.

It was like watching the clock the entire lesson and and not seeing the seconds moving at all. Ludicrous, annoying, frightening. It was all this, and this was my power.

The concept of time was fucked for me, and that was all. No fireballs, no super speed. I might be able to balance really well now, but that wasn't really worth much in a city where people could turn into dragons.

It's not fair. Why couldn't I turn into a dragon?

Madison grinned at me, and then grinned at the guy. I noticed it, like all the other things, so I waited for whatever scheme she had ready. Eventually, class ended, the ringing bell releasing me from this day's classes and letting me go free.

When the boy, Steve? I think his name was Steve, tried to stop me with a charming smile while I was walking out of the classroom, I subtly shoved him out of the way and moved to my locker. Stashing away all my things ASAP, I left.

The was simply no certainty anymore. There was me, and only me moving forward through the frozen molasses. If I didn't know better, I would think that time only moved with my permission.

The way home was a run. Despite the condition of 'move to move time', it didn't work while I was in a car or a bus. I had to move inside as well, as if it specifically demanded me to move myself instead of simply having my body moved. That also meant that whenever I was shoved, time slowed to a crawl. Weird, annoying. I could find more words, but that would simply be a waste of time.

Or not. I couldn't ever run out of time now. For me, Taylor Hebert, the first certainty was 'Time only moved when I want it to move'.

###

"Taylor, stop that," Dad said. I was sitting at the dinner table, my leg bouncing under it while I was trying to eat. My hands simply didn't move fast enough from the table to my mouth to actually help me get over this quickly. The second certainty: 'Time only moved as quickly as I moved'.

If I purposefully moved slowly, time wouldn't return to a normal level, it would simply be slower, but at least not frozen. The third certainty was simple: 'Time could only slow down, not accelerate.'

If it could, the way to and from school would be much shorter, which would make it a lot more useful to me.

"Sorry," I mumbled, stopping my leg. He was frozen, and I sighed, moving my arm to the plate again. He moved as I did.

He looked tired, but didn't show it. The bags under his eyes had been much worse today than they were yesterday, an increase of puffiness of at least two millimeters.

"How is work?" I asked him, moving my leg quickly for just a moment to ask the question. I knew his answer would be 'tiresome' or 'alright' if he didn't want to worry me. I love my Dad, but it simply hasn't been the same without Mom. He wasn't the man he used to be, and while he did his best, I dreaded to admit that it wasn't enough.

And I knew that I wasn't really putting much effort into it either.

"Tiresome," came the predictable answer. I knew it was, his slouched way of walking had shown it well enough. A break from the usual pattern, from the pattern I was used to at least, the one where he came home with a bright smile and gave Mom a kiss. Now that time was weird, I felt torn.

It was like she died just yesterday when I notice all the changes, all the things that blurred around me as I lay down in bed, and yet it felt like ages ago when every action takes figurative hours from me.

"But nothing I can't handle," he gave me a tight smile, fake in a way that only parents could attempt to imitate. The kind of reassuring smile you would give a toddler to make them stop crying after the fell down and hurt themselves. "And how is school?"

"Going slow," I answered. I wish I could have laughed at that joke, but he wouldn't have understood it anyway. Laughing at my own jokes was horrible anyway. It's not something I make a habit of - despite not having anyone I could tell a joke to.

"I know that feeling," he said, still smiling. No you really didn't, Dad, and I hope you'll never have to. Your kind of slow and my kind of slow simply don't compare.

I smiled back at him anyway. We could both try to make this work out. My leg began moving again, and he gave me a glance, making me sigh. Luckily, I was finally finished and stood up, putting the plate into the sink. "I will go finish some homework."

I didn't wait for him to say anything, and moved up to my room instead. I didn't actually have to finish any homework, no, that was done. But I could read up on some things. At least there is that.

###

I was lying in bed, something that has long since lost its feeling of luxury for me. The bed was a trap, something I couldn't move out at the time I went to sleep, no, but I still had to move.

I had to move and move and move, roll around, move my leg around until I finally felt tired enough to fall asleep and skip through the night.

On the first night after I had gotten this power, I messed up. I thought I could just lie in bed until I fell asleep, but that was wrong. I didn't notice time not moving in bed, I counted the seconds in my head even though all clocks on the world didn't move.

The sun never rose.

So I began to move and fell asleep, and since then, this has become another pattern I have to follow. The pattern of falling asleep was arguably the worst thing that my power took from me, twisted and changed the relaxation to a game of annoyance.

I breathed in deeply and continued.

Eventually, I would fall asleep.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 2: Disgust
​
I couldn't help but smile when I finished the latest novel I had read. Now, it barely took a minute for me to get through, but that was part of the fun. I could read so much in such a little time that the words seemed to flow together, giving me time to imagine the scenarios in such vivid ways that made the books come alive.

At least it felt much more intense than it used to. I wasn't going to complain about this, and there were probably enough books on the world to last me a lifetime before I actually finish them all, depending on how much effort I might want to put into learning a new language.

Probably not a lot. I don't think I ever heard of a good foreign novel that wasn't already translated. Or maybe reading the translated version of something evoked different images depending on the words used.

I didn't have school today, luckily, so I could just go to the library and get myself something new. That would take me a few minutes. Minutes that I eagerly wanted to waste, and simply staying there to read would diminish the amount of time I spend on it.

I grabbed my bag, pushing in the four books I had lended from the library just an hour ago and moved out of my room, down the stairs towards the hallway before my father's voice echoed.

"Taylor, could you be a dear and buy some groceries on the way?" He asked. "The money's on the table."

"Alright!" I called back, silently celebrating the quick and easy way of using my time even better. All the running I did in the morning, all the reading I did while going back and forth between the library and home. Despite the pain and effort it took to keep me sane and going, this was a pattern I very much enjoyed.

Lately, I actually felt a lot better. School has not been that annoying, I could simply ignore most classes, distract myself with doing something else, and dodging out of the way of Sophia and Emma probably made them way angrier than they would like to admit, which just added to the fun.

I walked towards the library at a steady speed, not hurrying too much as I observed the world around me. The city, compared to the expressions on the faces of people, didn't change. At least I haven't had a day where some cape attack led to the face of Brockton Bay changing, which was fortunate enough. As one of the cities with the highest cape ratio per capita, not at least meeting one of them one day is actually rather rare.

Barely half an hour later, I arrived at the library. The young woman who stood at the reception blinked at me as I stepped in.

"Weren't you here just a bit ago?" She asked, sounding as confused as she looked. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes slightly narrowed and the tilt of her head almost not noticeable.

"I was," I said, taking out the books out of my bag. "I didn't really like the books, I suppose I'll have to take a look at some others."

"Ah," she said, nodding and probably buying my story. "Is there anything in particular you might be looking for?"

"Not really," I shook my head. "If you have any recommendations, I would like that, however."

"Well," she began, humming. "I suppose you could look into the new novels that came in, they're just around the corner to my left."

"I believe I read most of those already, but I will take a look," I said, smiling at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She smiled back, waving slightly as I stepped towards her left and moving to the new novels. I did actually read most of them already, but there were two new ones, a crime thriller and something about a cape detective. Grabbing both of them, I decided to look for a third book before actually leaving, slowly moving up and down the rows of shelves that were filled with all kinds of stories.

Randomly grabbing one of them, I moved to the reception.

"That was quick," she said. Barely five minutes if the clock didn't lie, yes, but that's what happens when you can take in the sight of all the books at once and choose from that. She scanned them in and took my card before giving me the books. "Alright then, have a nice day."

"You too," I said, putting away my library card before pushing all the books into my bag. Now I only had the groceries left to buy, the list that Dad put with the money small enough that I could go to the smaller store not very far from here. Step after step, the world around me moved, the cars driving through the streets.

The small grocery store with the name that eluded me due to the fact that it was run down enough to have lost its sign a while ago was just across the street. I moved around the store, taking my time while walking through and slowly grabbing item after item that dad had written down before moving to the register.

The man behind the register looked as tired as Dad did yesterday, the smile on his face slightly strained as I put the items onto the conveyor belt, standing in line behind an older man who was struggling to fish out the coins out of his wallet.

I couldn't just wait for him to finish, though, so I had to move. My right foot bouncing slightly, I kept going until he was finally finished. The older man thanked the cashier for his patience before leaving the store, and finally it was my turn. The dark-haired cashier had barely scanned in two items before his eyes widened, and something pressed into the back of my neck.

It was cold. It felt very cold, at least, and the way he pressed it into my neck hurt an awful lot.

"You," the man said. I was still able to move my leg slightly, and his words were clear despite the slow motion. "Turn around slowly, and you, give me all the money in the register, or you'll have a bloodbath here."

My heart began to pound in my chest, feeling as if it would jump out of my throat any minute now. I did as he ordered, slowly turning around.

"Hands where I can see them," he continued before I was fully around, and I didn't move. Time froze. Nobody was behind him, nobody could help. There was nobody else in store, and the only reason I even ended up in this situation was because I was the only person here.

Fuck.

The gun he held in his hand was small, not a big caliber, but dodging at this distance, even with all the slow motion was unlikely, especially if it could hit the cashier right behind me. No, I didn't do it, I… I couldn't do it. I couldn't let someone else die.

I couldn't let myself die. I swallowed hard, my hands moving up as he wanted.

Then I struck. My thumb moved in between the gap between the trigger and the handle as my nails scratched into his hand. He screamed in pain, and pulled the trigger. I flinched, screamed silently, the movement of my mouth not enough to move time forward. I could hear my thumb breaking, but the gun didn't fire. I slammed my other hand into his arm, forcing his hand upwards with my grip on his gun and smashed the gun into his face.

While he was dazed, my arm extended to keep the trigger blocked and hurting from straining it too much, I kicked him in the balls. When he keeled over, the cashier immediately pulled out a gun himself, pointing at the man on the ground who let go of his gun in both pain and fear.

I sighed a breathe of relief before stepping backwards, pulling my blue and and red thumb out. It hurt, it hurt a lot. Putting the amount of pain I was in into words would probably take me as much time as someone without my power takes to read Ulysses, and even then that wouldn't be enough.

No, I wasn't screaming, I was simply making very loud noises with my mouth while holding my thumb, trying to keep my foot moving as I went to the ground.

"You… you're really something," the cashier said. "A real hero, kid."

I wished I could be more happy about his words. The screams had drawn some people towards the store and one of them called the police immediately. Tears welled up in my eyes, my heart still pounding, my finger hurting. I was so glad and so angry.

It took ten more minutes before the the police arrived. At that point, the pain had dulled enough for me to stop groaning and instead just complain about it the usual way.

"It hurts," I said, the conflicting emotions inside me eventually settling on 'happy'. It hurts, but I'm so happy. The officers who arrived had all kinds of expressions, settling on sheer astonishment as the cashier explained the situation to them and the would-be robber was hauled away into a police car.

"Considering the situation, I think it'd be better if we continued this in a hospital," the policeman, who wanted to take my statement as well, said. "Can you give us the number of your parents? It'd be better if we informed them quickly."

"My Dad," I said. An ambulance arrived right afterwards, probably called by the policemen. "I… please call him."

I gave them his number while the paramedic took a look at my thumb. I could see him flinch, his nostrils flaring. Honestly, that was just strange. Someone in his profession should be used to seeing things like this, why would they flinch back in disgust?

Who the hell is training those guys?
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 3: Thumbs Up​

I didn't think that giving the police a statement would be this complicated. Maybe it wouldn't be if it wasn't for the fact that my father was pacing up and down the room while someone was taking care of my thumb. The painkillers they had given me were actually quite helpful, and the high bed allowed me to swing my legs, giving me enough movement to hold this conversation.

"A gun!" Dad all by screeched. The policeman actually nodded at his words.

"Honestly, Ms. Hebert," the policeman, Officer Reynolds, said, shaking his head. "I would hardly believe such a tale if the cashier didn't tell the same story, and it seems the security video checks out. You're incredible!"

"Am I?" I asked. I wouldn't call the actions of a desperate teenager incredible, the only difference between me and others was that I had time to make dumb decisions sound good in my head before actually attempting them.

"I'm sure everyone else wouldn't have just complied with him," Reynolds said. "It's especially tragic because the gun the man used was actually empty."

"..." I stared at the policeman, narrowing my eyes. It was? Fuck. FUCK. Dammit, there went my excuse for a broken thumb. "But it could have been loaded."

"That is true, in which case-"

"In which case," Dad rudely interrupted. "You should have just- how could you when he had a gun."

"Dad," I said. "It's alright."

"No it isn't!" His face went red, and the policeman looked way more uncomfortable than I actually did. Dad's roar drew the ire of the doctor who was putting a splint around my thumb and index finger. The glare of the man in white was enough to stop whatever would have followed. "You could have died, Taylor…"

But I didn't. In hindsight, saving someone, and saving myself, was an exhilarating feeling.

"Dad," I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "Please. I'm okay, there's no need to worry."

"I wouldn't say that," the doctor said. "You should be more careful with your body, Ms. Hebert, you only have one, so please don't be reckless."

Reynolds chuckled as he stood up, shaking his head. "Well then, thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Hebert. I doubt that you will have to stand as a witness in court considering the evidence we have, so please take time to heal."

"Thank you, Officer Reynolds," I said. "Goodbye."

He left as the doctor finished it up.

"Do not strain your hand too much, Ms. Hebert," the doctor said. "Keep the splint on for at least two months-"

He went on and on about the procedures of how to keep showering when I had this on and so on and so on. I wasn't very interested in it, but nodded, my legs still swinging in front of the bed.

"Thank you, doctor," I told him, trying to smile.

"You're welcome, Ms. Hebert. Try not to do anything too strenuous, those pain killers might make you a bit sleepy."

If only. They didn't even make me slightly delirious, despite the fact that they were strong enough to absolutely destroy the smallest amounts of pain from my finger. I need to get some more of those, they could probably help me with my leg pain when I moved it too much. At least I had an excuse to never skip leg day.

###

The drive home was a silent one, my leg bouncing while Dad looked like he had aged ten years in the few hours I hadn't seen him, his mouth moving in a way that indicated his intention of speaking, while his teeth kept snapping shut while he kept failing to find the words.

I wouldn't break the ice, though, I couldn't really. No, I had nothing to say, and I had my own stuff to think about.

Like the adrenaline that filled my body and sent me up high into the skies. He called me a hero, and while I couldn't say I really felt like one, I didn't have anything to compare this feeling to. If this is what feeling like a hero is like, I could understand why people like Armsmaster and Alexandria existed.

And the thought of experiencing this again was enough to make me shiver in excitement. Like a strange new taste I had acquired, a new pattern I would love to try out. Maybe… maybe I should join the Wards? I'm not sure. I want to be a hero, I really do, but…
Dad eventually found his voice. "Taylor…"

"Yes?" I said, turning to him. He wasn't red in the face, his pupils normal. The eyes focused on the road and the hands not gripping into steering wheel gave him a strange look of calmness.

He glanced towards me, coughing.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," he said. "And… and I'm proud of what you did, as reckless as it was."

"Thanks."

I couldn't really say anything else, could I? It was reckless, but by this point, it's like water under the bridge. For someone like me this was already ages ago, and yet I missed it. I smiled at him.

"You think they'll put it into the news?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "Not something that happens every day, is it?"

"In Brockton Bay?" I asked. "I'm not sure."

"True enough." He chuckled, and I joined in. Even if we are both the worst kind of people for this kind of situation, we could at least try to make it work. Mom… Mom would want it. We could be there for each other, even if we couldn't tell each other everything.

###

Monday, two days after the debacle at the supermarket, I had to go to school again. I spent most of Sunday doing nothing but reading, with varying degrees of success. I wanted to concentrate on reading, I really did, but all I could do was sit back while the images that vividly flashed in front of my eyes were those of a gun pressed into my forehead.

It didn't take the powers to observe every single person in school with one glance to notice something was strange when I entered homeroom. Sophia and Emma were staring at me, but I paid them no mind. It was still five minutes before the start, so I had to find a way to distract myself.

Eventually, someone came up to me. The boy from last time, Steven, Madison's dumb plan. I wanted to ignore him, but he just opened his mouth wide and shouted.

"I saw that video online!" He shouted.

"What video?" I asked, blinking. Did Sophia and Emma upload- no. No, that wasn't the kind of stare he'd give me if the video was bullying related. The way he breathed, his face going red slightly, his eyes wide as well. Surprise mixed with a huge smile that threatened to split his face.

"You don't know?" He asked. Obviously I don't, I don't really use my internet access that often, but I hoped he'd just tell me if I asked. "You beat up that guy in the supermarket, right? The one with the gun!"

I tilted my head slightly, feeling confused. I did, yes, but… it was online? The security footage? I didn't expect that, actually, but the boy's shout was just the beginning. It broke the dam that was stopping the others from coming forward.It was crowded, people looking at my hand as if it was some kind of weapon.

I felt uncomfortable under the gazes of all the people who usually just made fun of me or ignored me. I didn't even know the names of half these people.

"Does it hurt?" One girl, who had once tripped her because Emma said to do so, asked.

"Yes," I answered. Of course it did, what kind of question was that?

"That was so brave!" She gushed. "You're incredible! I always thought there was much more to you than everyone said!"

Yes, of course, why don't you just go to hell? I wish I could say that, but considering how this crowd usually behaved and treated me, I'd say that this sudden acceptance was preferable to having everyone as an enemy.

"That was so cool!" - "And that moment when you just smashed his gun-" - "I heard you broke out five of his teeth with that move-" - "You're incredible-" - "A real hero!"

I wish I could say I'm not happy about them being so nice to me, but that would be a lie. I teared up slightly, but I couldn't show any weakness here. I rubbed my eyes, tried to hide the tears. A hand grabbed my shoulder, making me look up to a package of tissues that was held by a dark-skinned hand.

"Good job," I heard the person say. I leaned backwards slightly, seeing Sophia with an expression that I couldn't quite place simply due to the fact that it was so… strange seeing it on her face. Something new I hadn't actually seen from her before.

Respect?

Did she actually respect me?

I took the tissues with a muttered thanks. She nodded as she left, walking back to Emma.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 4: Crash​

I, Taylor Hebert, enjoyed going to school.

The bullying had stopped, and while Emma was still keeping her distance, Sophia had been less so. She wasn't actually 'friendly' as much as neutral. It barely took a week for me to relax, something that I shouldn't do considering the last time I had let my guard down.

But I couldn't see any deception on their faces. I couldn't see any ulterior motives that they would reveal eventually. In class, people talked to me, complaining about homework, inviting me to go out with them. It might be because of the situation at the supermarket, but I would take it.

And Dad noticed as well. Better yet, it was a reason I could use to move, go out, waste time. A new pattern, so to speak. I enjoyed it immensely, and I had the feeling that my grades would improve as well. With something so simple, all my problems seemed gone.

Yet, I had time for some introspection. As much as I enjoyed being called a hero, I didn't really want to be one, not right now, not when I suddenly enjoyed my life outside of my powers so much. What I wanted was to stop being stagnant.

I wanted the time to move around. To move to make the time move.

So instead of worrying about my powers and what I would do with them, I pretended to be normal for just a while longer. After a day at Fugly Bob's, I ended up at the library again and grabbed a few books to read before going home. The sun was still illuminating the city, to early to really call it 'late', as the days became longer and longer.

This would do.

###

I didn't expect Sophia to ever apologize to me, and I didn't want her to do it anyway. Right now, the begrudging respect she gave me, and the distance that Emma and Madison took from me was more than enough to keep me happy.

People like Sophia didn't apologize. I had more than enough time to take a look at her, to really get to understand her. It was a mystery to me and I'm bad at reading people's intentions, which was more an understanding of my own abilities as a wanna-be psychologist than an understanding about her.

I might have grown a bit more confident in reading people after reading over twenty books on human body language, their mimic etcetera. But by the looks of it, Sophia didn't actually stop because she wanted to stop - the way Emma avoided me, the whispered words I could sometimes catch. If anything, it seems like Emma called the bullying off, and it had been my former best friend's idea from the very start.

It suited me well enough, water under the bridge. A pattern broken. It's strange how easy it is to get over something like this, something that made me suffer to a degree that I wrote entire diaries full of it, when you had time to think and think again.

Other than that, life hadn't really changed much, though. Some people recognized me from the video, maybe one or two on the way to school, but outside of her school, I was still pretty much a non-entity. Barely worth a small mention besides the latest shenanigans of villains such as Lung, Kaiser or even Über and Leet.

While I knew that the hype in my school would die down as well, eventually, I also knew that it wouldn't change back to the usual pattern. Right now, I was certain, more so than usual, that Emma would keep avoiding me.

It's the small victories that count.

###

The streets of asphalt stretched into the horizon. Or at least as far as the next building I could see in front of me. Even with the doctor's suggestion to take it easy on my hand, he didn't say I shouldn't run in the morning, and I didn't want to break that pattern anyway. My breath was still steady after five minutes of running without much of an issue, time kept moving, and I could keep going for a while.

One of the neighbors waved at me and I waved back, continuing on my way. Still, I woke up rather late this morning, so I couldn't just keep running forever. I still had to go home and take a shower before making my way to school.

After fifteen minutes of running, and getting winded quite a bit, I ended up back home. Taking a quick shower, I began preparing myself for the day. Dad wasn't home, probably at his workplace already. Despite the hurry I had before, the rather efficient way of doing everything left me with enough time to take the long way round to school.

Stepping out again, I continued down the path out of the neighborhood towards Winslow, the hellhole that was like a piece of heaven right now. My legs were hurting less and less lately, allowing me to keep going in class for much longer before I had to stop and recover, giving me at least some sense of normalcy.

Stopping at a red light not far from the school, I glanced at the other people next to me when I heard a rather loud and annoying voice. Two older men in suits and a mother with her son, the voice originating from the woman while she talked on the phone. I jumped slightly on my toes, trying to keep the movement going until the light turned green again.

The child suddenly stepped onto the road, and I stopped, my hand slowly reaching out to the child as the mother was inattentive due to the phone call. A car's horn echoed loudly as I grabbed the boy and dragged him back roughly, pulling on his shoulder before he could step further.

The woman stopped talking, hung up and glared at me.

"Excuse me?" She screeched. "How dare you touch my child like that, you hurt him!"

The boy was indeed nursing his shoulder from her rather rough grip, but I just matched her glare.

"If you weren't paying attention," I said, feeling incredibly annoyed, rationally so. "Your son was about to run onto the road. Maybe you should worry about his life more than his shoulder."

I wasn't quite the same feeling as fighting the man with the gun, but helping out right now to prevent some car from running this kid over? That saved me as much trauma as it let me feel good for helping. The woman's glare didn't soften, however, no, her face twisted into some kind of disgusting way that I never really saw before.

"I will sue you for touching my child so brazenly, you-"

"Fuck you," I said, way too happy with myself. When the light turned green again, I simply moved forward as one of the older men began talking to the woman. I didn't have time to deal with this. Well I did, but I didn't really want to deal with it.

I could have a nice day at school instead, thank you very much.

###

I didn't expect it to just blow over, but I didn't actually expect policemen to walk into the school with the intention of questioning me. That bitch actually reported me.

I could see that Madison of all people looked way too happy with this, while the other two of the trio remained neutral as always. At least they didn't take me in chains, even though that would've been an interesting image. Strangely enough, one of the policemen was Officer Reynolds.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Ms. Hebert?" He asked. I nodded, crossing my arms. "I suppose I should tell you why we wanted to speak with you?"

"Was it about the woman and her child this morning?" I asked. He just nodded in confirmation. "I saved his life."

"How so?" He asked. Not 'really', not much surprise on his face, only a slight bit. I really didn't want to do this right now, it wasn't really something special, it was something anyone else could have done as well.

"He was about to run onto the road, I grabbed him to stop that," I explained. "If I didn't, he'd be dead."

"Hmm… that's not how she told the story, but I suppose there's a witness?" He asked.

"There were two men, but I didn't stay long enough to ask for their names," I told him. I sighed - why didn't I ask for their names? I really shouldn't have underestimated the stupidity of some people. Of course she would report me if she said that she'd sue me. "We don't really have money for a lawsuit."

"I don't think that it'll come to one, if any," he said. "We will try to find these witnesses first before giving you any confirmation. Could you give us a general description and the exact location? They might call us if we look for them."

"Yeah…" I said. I could give quite detailed descriptions, actually. One balding and one bald man both with short beards in a gray and black color. I continued describing them until Officer Reynolds raised his hands.

"Thank you, Ms. Hebert, that should be all," he said. "Do you want us to notify your father about this?"

"No, that's alright." I shook my head. Best not to make him worry too much. "Thank you for believing me."

He gave me a strained smile, the muscles in his face giving off the expression of being uncomfortable. He put his hand forward for me to shake. "We know that woman quite well, actually. Let's just say that there's people who quickly grab the phone to call us whenever they can."

I laughed, shaking his hand and doing the same with the other police officer before going back to class.

Who were all looking ready to jump me and ask questions. Great.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 5: Fool​

I didn't really expect anything to happen, considering Officer Reynolds's words, but it seems that the woman was busy dreaming about crushing some girl in court. It did help that the two men who witnessed the situation have been found, which means that it would be thrown out of court if it ever went so far.

Apparently no respectable lawyer would even take that case. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Unfortunately, that also meant that Dad got wind of it, and it meant we would have to get a lawyer. It as a back and forth of bad and good news at that point. The bad news is that we would need legal aid, which means costs. The good news? I could still milk my five minutes of fame and had a few lawyers I could ask to do the case pro bono.

Luckily, the best news were that if I win the case, and I'm very likely to, I could sue her for defamation due to her false charges. Which means I could actually get some money out of it.

I should get sued more often. But that would be more a headache than its worth, which means that I won't sue anyway.

Dad looked at me strangely on the way back home from the lawyer's office.

"What's up?" I asked, my leg rocking back and forth. I didn't like cars. I liked moving, and staying in closed spaces became much more of a bother than I wanted to admit, simply because Brockton Bay was too big to walk everywhere.

"I wonder where I went wrong," he said. His tone was joking, and there was actually a small smile on his face. Despite the stress and worry he felt just a while ago, I felt like we were making progress. Dad looked a lot healthier, and I wasn't really dodging him that much anymore. "I mean, a lawsuit right after that supermarket, really?"

"You're saying that as if it was my fault." I grinned back at him, crossing my arms. "I only wanted to help."

"Imagine your mother was here to see this," he said, sounding nostalgic. "I imagine she'd have ripped that woman to shreds before any lawyers would have been involved."

Not really something I could imagine Mom doing, but she could be vicious if she really wanted. I laughed slightly, yes. Yes, she would probably have taken care of everything herself without me even getting involved. Mom was reliable like that.

"How has school been?" He asked. "There's been a lot of things going on at work, but it seems to be looking better, lately."

"Quite good," I said, smiling. "I made a few friends."

Without the buffer of the bullies in between me and them, I was free to share my interests, my thoughts. The only person I actually actively avoided, besides Greg, was Steven, who has been a bit too nice, making Madison glare daggers at me every class we had together.

Apparently she actually liked him? I didn't care - they were more of an annoyance that I wouldn't let sour my mood.

"I'm glad," he said. "What about Emma, though? You haven't mentioned her."

"Emma and I, hmm…" I began, trying to find the right words. I couldn't really tell him the entire situation, and I didn't want him to worry. "I guess we just grew apart."

"Did you?" His eyebrows rose up towards his balding head as he took the last curve before we were finally home. "How so?"

"We found other friends." I shrugged. "It's nothing special, we're still getting along."

More or less. I didn't really lie, it was simply a small bit of omission. What he doesn't know can't hurt him after all. My eyes moved back to the road as he parked. A woman was standing in front of our house. No, not actually a woman. I could see the most minute details of makeup on her face, the most subtle of all ways to age herself up, it seems, she was younger than she looked, but I couldn't say how young.

She wore a darker suit, giving her the look of a professional and she immediately smiled towards us.

"Excuse me," Dad said. "Are you looking for us?"

"Yes," the woman said, nodding. Her blonde hair jiggled slightly due the incredibly voluminous style she wore it in, the curls running down slightly above her shoulders. "You're Taylor Hebert, correct? My name is Mia Abrams-"

A lie. It was the smallest of signs, but the moment I noticed it, she also stopped slightly, blinking at me for some reason. Surprise? Why would she be surprised.

"And," Ms. Abrams continued so quickly that Dad probably didn't notice the pause. "I wanted to ask you a few questions about the robbery last Saturday. I'm a reporter, you see."

Her smile was too good looking not to be fake. I didn't really want to speak with her, especially considering how suspicious her words sounded.

"No," Dad came to my rescue. But that wasn't all there is to it, right? There couldn't be. I doubted anyone would just walk up to our home and ask so long after the fact instead of Sunday or Monday after the incident. I could read her, so maybe I could learn something.

"It's alright, Dad," I said. "I'll answer some questions, doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable," he said, glancing at my hand. I smiled and shrugged, trying to reassure him.

"Don't worry about me, it's all over."

"Alright." He sighed. "Please don't make her sue you for anything."

"Hey!" I jokingly shouted. He waved while he moved into the house. "Do you want to come in, Ms. Abrams was it?"

"Oh, that's quite alright," she said. "I don't really have any qualms about asking the questions here, it shouldn't take too long."

Her eyes. They moved, slightly to the left, then up. I pretended to look back towards the car and followed her gaze before stopping, freezing the imagine in front of me. There was someone. Observing us? A camera, maybe, the distance was too big for me to notice anything but the lens. Maybe she was trying to provoke me, get some news about me attacking her.

That was alright, I could just not play along. I had all the time in the world to calm down, no matter what she said.

"Some people claimed that such an incredible feat of strength was just superhuman," Ms. Abrams said, smiling that fake smile at me. "How were you able to accomplish something like that?"

Well if I was a parahuman, I obviously wouldn't say I was one to a reporter who was writing down my words. Instead, I shrugged.

"Just lucky, I guess," I answered. "A lot of adrenaline and luck."

"Ah, you are truly an inspiration to women, I have to admit," the woman chuckled. "It seems that your video has become viral after it appeared in a talk show. The fact that someone without powers did something so incredible was a huge boost to the confidence of many."

Haha. She knows.

The cold feeling of dread that gripped my heart was accompanied by a burst of happiness at the sudden adversary I faced. The woman wanted me to prove I have powers, did she? That's why there was a camera. I didn't expect nobody to make a connection to something more considering how precise my movements were.

"Was that a question?" I asked her. She hesitated slightly, probably due to the fact about how casual I was. Forcing myself to calm down even though I could feel my heart speed up, I switched the foot I was tapping to relieve the right one of its stress.

"Oh no, I apologize." She shook her head. "You seem rather restless, is everything alright?"

"Yes, it's just a habit," I said, not stopping with the tapping. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"Yes, of course," she coughed, looking down at the paper she held while she wrote down her next question. "Would you say anything changed since that day?"

"I'm not sure," I answered. "My classmates heard about it, but there wasn't much of a change."

I could lie as well, Ms. Abrams. Do not take me for a fool.

"I suppose that would be all, Ms. Hebert, thank you for your cooperation," she said, smiling at me before stepping away.

"You're welcome," I muttered, opening the door as she slowly left. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

I could see her shake her head as she left, and the lens in the distance vanished suddenly.

It seems I won this game. Strangely enough, I was a bit disappointed. I thought she would have been a bit more scathing, more scandalous, more provoking with her questions to get me to react, but she's been rather casual, if a bad liar.

Maybe that was just her pattern. Maybe she would twist my words. I'd have to check about any articles with her name under them soon.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 6: Twitch​

The woman who had interviewed me didn't post any articles, at least not the next few days afterwards. This could mean many things, but the one I found to be the most realistic possibility was that she didn't get what she wanted from me, so she just didn't see much worth in the article.

"You're always so quick," someone said. I looked up to them as I put away my stuff into my bag, blinking. Mary from one of my classes was looking at my hands. I knew what she meant - it had to do with my powers, in part.

Minimal movements are done at a 'normal' speed. The speed that I needed to have time move at the standard pace, in other words. Because of this condition, I cannot move slowly on purpose anymore.

Or rather, I could move 'slowly' forward, but movements I do with my hands, with my fingers, such as writing, are done much faster. My typing speed on the keyboard had improved to a level that weaker computers with bad text processing software lagged before displaying my messages.

All that gave it a certain illusion of me being 'fast' or 'hurrying'. Instead, I was simply doing everything at a reasonable pace with a precision that allowed me to waste no movement.

"Am I?" I asked her, zipping the bag shut. "I didn't notice."

"Yeah, seems like you're always in a hurry to get out." Mary chuckled. I wouldn't have disagreed when the bullying was still going on, but right now it was just a habit. "Not like I want to stay here for long either."

"Not enjoying Ms. Gunt's history lessons?" I asked, smiling at her. The girl shuddered, shaking her head vehemently at the sheer thought of it.

"Never," she said. "The want to meet at the mall today, want to go along?"

"Sure," I said. I'd need to tell Dad, but despite the fact that we've been getting better, he's still not a fan of mobile phones. I could call his office, but I doubted he would really be against it.

"Great." She smiled at me, genuine. I really should stop distrustfully reading every expression, but as always: It's better to be safe than sorry.

###

I didn't actually have any money on me, but just spending time with my classmates was actually enough for me. My five minutes of fame finally ended, and apparently the lawsuit was dropped rather abruptly when the woman could not find any lawyer who would take her case.

Maybe I should read some books about law. I imagine it would be quite fortunate to have that knowledge stowed away in my head. There's a lot I hadn't read yet, and the list just grew longer the more ideas I had.

"Maybe we should go visit the bookstore," I suggested. The fact that I had something for literature wasn't a secret, and while not many of them shared my interests, there was a compromise in the group of five that I had joined. Mary, a big guy called Troy, a rather loud one called Bill, a diminutive girl called Stacey and me. We'd go around to whenever anyone wanted to go as long as there wasn't a suggestion everyone was okay with.

The rest of them shrugged, so we were on the way just a second later.

And something caught my eye. It was hard to explain. A twitch in someone's expression, a cold hand that gripped my chest that made me stop, freezing the world around me.

I could see her, a girl around my age, maybe a couple of years older. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the way she walked, that slouched way as she grabbed her bag. It was like staring at a mirror into the past. The sheer amount of negative emotion that seemed to ooze of the girl's expressions physically hurt to look at.

I never expected something like this. I could read people all around me, and not even Dad looked like this after Mom died. I turned to my friends, thinking about it.

"Shit," I said, feigning worry. "I forgot that Dad wanted me to be home early today!"

"Aw, really?" Mary asked. "Do you have to go now?"

"Yeah, sorry." I nodded, my expression changing to one that should explain how sorry I am. "I'll have to hurry-"

"It's alright," Mary said. "We'll see you in school tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, thanks, I'll just…" I turned back to the girl from before, already a considerable distance away. "Goodbye."

They waved me goodbye as I moved towards the mall's exit, the same direction that the girl was moving forward. While following her, I slowly tried to find out more, something that was hard to do with only seeing her back.

Her hair was dark and done up in a bun, though the sun gave me a small sight of brighter hair at the roots. It was colored, apparently, not really something I needed to know, but something I could note nonetheless.

She eventually led me towards one of the taller buildings not too far after only twenty minutes of walking. She didn't ever look up, barely stopped at the two red lights unless someone shouted for her to stop. It was reckless, and slowly I knew just what exactly she felt.

That was someone who had reached their limit. Someone who couldn't continue, and someone who didn't want to continue anymore.

It was someone who ended up in the same shoes that I had been long ago, and while I managed to bite on my tongue and force myself through for Dad, I couldn't expect the same of others.

When she stepped in, I hurried slightly and caught the door before it could close.

I needed time to think. I didn't know her, my words might do as much harm as they could help. She needed help and I needed to find a way to have it arrive more quickly.

No, futile. Impossible. I couldn't. I wasn't fast enough. I needed to think.

I stopped.

The world around me was frozen and I stared outside, around the building. I needed something that could help me. A plan, no matter how reckless.

There was a man, maybe- no, he was unreliable, tired. He looked like the person you'd move away from if you met him at night. A woman- no, she had a child with her. A… a building site.

I put my bag in between the door to keep it open and ran to the building site, as fast as I could, the fitness I earned through the hard work of running every morning used to my advantage.

I rushed forward, and stopped.

The building site had all kinds of things, and I could see a man with a helmet looking at me in confusion, about to speak up to ask me what I was doing. I shook my head slightly, moving my vision around and finding something I could use.

A rope. I ran to it, grabbing it with one arm and turning around. The man was following me, but that didn't matter. I reached the building again as I saw the girl on the roof. I was right.

The hand that gripped my heart squeezed, and a sudden surge of warmth made my faster, adrenaline pumping through my body. Taking my bag, I immediately rushed up most of the flights of stairs, putting the rope around the rails inside the stairway and staring towards the window that was there, one of the many every two flights of stairs.

I threw my bag into the window, shattering the glass and sending most of the shards flying. When I took a look up, I could see the girl, about to fall. I was quick enough, I could do it. I took a deep breath, using one of the stairs to get momentum while rushing down and jumped.

The girl was falling.

If I stopped moving, time stopped, even in my fall.

I rotated my body around, using the rope for the right distance between this window and the one on the lower floor.

The girl was right next to me, my arms catching her out of the air until her momentum and her weight sent us down.

We fell, and the rope I wrapped around my hip and stomach squeezed hard, cutting into my skin and bone, or so it felt. It swung us towards the other window and I squeezed harder, protecting the girl while my grip was almost slipping and we smashed into the window.

It hurt. Pain coursed through my body as the impact sent vibrations up my legs into my chest and shards of glass cut open my skin.

I was hurt, bleeding, aching.

Despite myself, I could feel a small sound of joy escape my mouth and I barely held back my smile as I stared at the girl under me, still wrapped in my arms.

"Don't…" I said, wheezing. "Don't ever do that again."

The pain was unbearable and I stopped feeling my body, falling onto her, trouble at keeping myself up.

This was the most exhilarating feeling I've felt in a long time.

I should try that more often.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 7: Snap​

I wouldn't call myself reckless. If anything, recklessness was a thing that was just 'not Taylor'. I didn't like taking risks, I wasn't suicidal, and I knew when to keep my head low to avoid problems. Now, impulsive, that was a word I could probably fit in rather well. Impulsiveness was something I must have inherited from Dad.

Still, could you really be reckless if every thought of yours happened so quickly that you probably thought about it fifty times before actually doing it? Probably not! So I could also wipe away 'Impulsive' from the traits I could use to describe myself with.

Admittedly, there wasn't much I could use now. Studious? I devoured books not for studying, though, but to waste time. I had all the time in the world now, after all. Friendly? No. I definitively wasn't. I could pretend to be! But I wouldn't use 'friendly' either.

Ah, I got it.

Stupid. I was stupid. I wouldn't call jumping out of a window impulsive or reckless, but stupid? That was definitely the dumbest thing I've ever done. I mean, I thought about killing myself, once every blue moon, but I didn't actually go through with it because I knew there were still things that made me happy, things that gave me strength to go forward.

And despite all this stupidity of doing something that others would describe as reckless and impulsive, I felt proud of myself, I felt happy.

That might actually be the amount of morphine in my body, but I wasn't sure. Or maybe it was still the aftereffect of the adrenaline that pushed me over the edge. I was so going to do some bungee jumping one day. Or maybe some huge rope swings. That was awesome.

Lying in bed in the hospital has been a shitty experience. Mostly because I couldn't feel my legs. Through the delirium of pain killers and happiness of adrenaline that didn't cancel each other out for some reason, I could hear the doctors talk about 'spinal cord injuries'. Now, the Biology books I had read told me enough about that. Paraplegia, it seems.

I should've been upset, probably sad, possibly depressed and wailing. But right now, I felt nothing but pride. When the policemen, sadly without Officer Reynolds in sight, came and wanted to ask me a few questions, the doctors shoo'd them out due to me not being in the condition to talk.

My Dad finally arrived an hour later when they finally managed to call him at home. I didn't quite realize how late it had gotten, which meant that without a mobile phone, he couldn't have received the call anyway while he was on the way home.

Gosh, he was probably worried sick when I wasn't home.

He was sitting besides my bed, crying. Why did he have to cry? I suddenly felt like crying myself. His elbows were on the side of the bed, his fingers intertwined as both of his hands pressed into his forehead. He looked like a beaten puppy. An old, balding and beaten puppy. Yeah, the morphine was working, alright.

"You know, I always wanted a wheelchair," I tried to joke. I might have sounded a bit too happy there, and broke out into giggles, and laughed. I might have laughed a bit too much, my chest hurt, or maybe those were the cuts that had snuck up onto me when I smashed through the glass of the lower floor.

In hindsight, I could have destroyed the window there too before going up and saving the girl. Okay, impulsive went back onto the list. Stupid and impulsive.

At least I forced a chuckle out of him. At least I think it was chuckle. It might have been a sigh and a cough that kinda sounded like one when done together. His eyes were red, tears were still streaming down his face as he looked up and took my hand.

Not my left hand, that one was busy moonwalking all over the other side of my bed and keeping my time moving.

"What were you thinking?" He asked, his voice strained, sounding like a whining dog. If he starts barking, I might need more of these drugs.

"That I could help someone," I said. I was serious. Probably. My voice sounded serious, and I managed to stop the giggle that was about to bubble out of my mouth at the last second.

"But… but look where that got you, she…"

"Don't say she wasn't worth it," I told him. I couldn't help but scowl, I could see it from his face, from his expression, from the muscles twitching in these certain ways and his body's rigid stance. "Imagine how her family would feel if she was gone."

That hit him harder than I thought it would. But of course, what if the girl's family had lost her just as we lost Mom? Honestly, I wasn't really thinking when I saved her. Ah, there it was. Reckless, impulsive and stupid. There we go, Taylor, you rock, you're a horrible person.

No, I was an awesome person. Fuck you, Taylor. I fucking saved the day, I'm a hero, I did shit only people who could fly could do and all that with a rope!

And look where that got me. My Dad's mouth snapped shut at my words to him and he shook his head, his hands squeezing mine. They were sweaty. Or maybe those were his tears. Probably his tears.

I took a deep breath as someone knocked on the door. The policemen again. I smiled at them, waving my previously moonwalking fingers at them. More like a wiggle, and more like waving my hand, but they got the gesture.

"Hello, Ms. Hebert, Mr. Hebert," one of them said. "I'm Officer Lucas, I'd like to ask a few questions about the incident."

Dad looked ready to object but I just spoke up quicker.

"Sure thing, come in!" I chirped, happy about the distraction. "Sit down, sit down, I'm afraid the bed is mine, but if you really want I can move over."

Or not.

"In hindsight, I might need help to move over," I said, poking my legs. I really should be panicking about now, but I couldn't find the energy with all the other emotions taking up most of the place in my body right now.

"That's alright, we can remain standing," Officer Lucas said. "Do we have your permission to ask her questions?"

Dad nodded, going along with my silent demand after he caught sight of me nodding quite strongly.

"Thank you," the man said. His friend took out something to write before Officer Lucas began. "Alright- you're Ms. Hebert, student at Winslow, correct?"

"Aye, sir." I saluted. "The one and only."

He gave me a small smile before continuing. "Could you describe the situation from your perspective? We've already managed to question the girl you saved, but…"

"She's alright?" I asked, awfully happy about that information. The doctors hadn't really graced me with that answer yet. "I'm so glad!"

Hell yeah, one more life saved. Now I only hoped she wouldn't sue me for hurting herself on the glass shards. Could you even sue someone who prevented you from committing suicide? I honestly doubted it, buuuut… better safe than sorry, right? I should ask. Later.

"She's well, yes, definitively not…"

"Paraplegic?" I offered when he couldn't find his words. Dad scowled slightly.

"How can you be so casual about this?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in worry and just a bit of anger. "This is a life altering thing, Taylor, we-"

"It was worth it," I answered simply before turning to the policeman who gave me a rather surprised look. "I, uh… have been taking to acrobatics lately. Just a bit of sports, running in the morning and stretching and yoga and all that and when I saw the girl up there, I knew I had to do something."

"But the precision," the policeman said. "The speed at which you did all this. Even special forces couldn't have done what you did without the utmost preparation, both physical and mental. It's incredible!"

"No, I'm not incredible," I said, thinking back. "I'm reckless and impulsive. Maybe a little bit stupid too, but I might blame that on hitting my head."

That was a lie. I didn't hit my head. I actually hit everything in my body except my head with my stunt.

"Hmmm…" the other Officer wrote something. I could see the pen move, the pattern, the words he wrote. He noted down every word I said, sometimes using abbreviations. Nothing too interesting until he wrote something down I couldn't quite place.

'Possible Code-P'. Whatever that meant, maybe it was something I could look up online. Sounded cool.

"Nonetheless, that was incredible, and it seems that your actions have drawn a big deal of attention, the mayor might actually want to give you some award," Officer Lucas said. "Compared to the robbery you prevented, this is going to hit some bigger news."

"I didn't do it for the fame," I said. No, I did it because it was the right thing to do and the adrenaline rush felt like a miracle. Maybe I should become a hero and join the Wards. I imagine they must be feeling like this all the time! "I just felt like I had to help her."

The policeman looked incredibly happy with my answer while Dad looked more than unhappy, but unable to complain with my reasoning.
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 8: Deal Breaker​

The amount of visitors outside of Dad was equal zero. Well, I know there were some reporters from the local news who really wanted to get a piece of me, but I didn't actually care about those. My classmates had sent me well wishes, flowers I had next to me, but none of them actually came to visit.

I haven't heard any news of the suicidal girl either, and I've actually been largely isolated, staying in my room. I wouldn't really mind that if it wasn't for the fact that I barely had any books here to take my time to read.

No, instead I was spending much more time staring at the ceiling, waiting for Dad to come visit, and thinking about how I could get another adrenaline kick now that I was crippled. Maybe saving up and asking some healer cape to do the work would help. Panacea was in the city, right? But she didn't do requests, there was a long waiting list until she could take care of someone because everyone in the city needed her, and she wasn't in the city anyway.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," I said, looking over to it. Dad walked in with a bunch of letters in his hands, looking a lot better. It's been almost a week since I was stuck to the bed, but I should be able to go home soon enough, and it seems he finally stopped moping around. I might have to find a way to drag my belongings down with the help of my Dad because getting up the stairs was going to be a bother.

Yes, I've made peace with it. Maybe it was the fact that after the drugs finally stopped, I could think more clearly about what exactly this meant for me. I was technically in an unfortunate situation that would break a lot of people, and despite all the negative emotions associated with it, I knew that there were people who achieved much more in a wheelchair than I ever did outside of one.

Maybe a Tinkertech wheelchair with a hover function was cheaper than a healer. Something I should be looking into.

Dad sat down in the chair next to my bed like always, putting the letters into my lap.

"It seems," he said, sorting through some of the letters which were full of empty well-wishes. "It seems that due to Winslow's lack of accessibility, you've been pushed up on Arcadia's waiting list due to your condition."

I blinked, tilting my head and urging him to continue.

"You'll still have to go to school," he said. "And there aren't actually any schools nearby that would have the equipment to deal with your con-"

"You don't have to keep calling it that," I said, interrupting him. "'Your condition' this, 'your condition' that. I'm disabled from the waist down, crippled, paraplegic. There's names for that, you can use one of these."

"I get it," he all but snapped. "It's… not something you can really get used to, you know?"

"Tell me about it," I said dryly, staring at the rest of the letters in my lap. "Look, if I can deal with this, I'm sure you can as well. Now, what was this about Arcadia?"

"They are equipped to deal with your paraplegia," he said, actually using the term. Progress. "So you can just join as soon as you are ready to go to school again, though catching up might be a bit hard on you."

"That's alright," I said. "I can catch up quickly."

I'm already caught up, but that didn't matter. Arcadia! A dream come true! My dreams stopped being dreams…

And someone else knocked on the door. More forcefully, and rather straightforward before just opening it, not even waiting for me to say anything. What if I was getting dressed? That was all kinds of rude. I stared at the newcomer, a woman in a gray suit, looking confident.

"Good evening, Ms. Hebert," she said, nodding at me and then moving up to my bed, offering my father her hand. "Hello, Mr. Hebert."

"Hello?" He shook her hand, looking as confused as I was feeling. The woman took out a card from her pocket, giving it to him.

"I'm an consultant in the PRT East-North-East," she said, stating the official designated name of Brockton Bay's PRT. Oh. The name on the card was 'Trucy R-' something. I couldn't actually read the rest from the way he held it.

Oh…

"What does the PRT want with my daughter," Dad asked.

"We've been informed of a possibly new cape that has triggered due to recent events," she said. That was the truth, her voice and expression said as much. "We keep a close track of events where residents of Brockton Bay might be traumatized heavily, in which case we contact them to see if we could be of any assistance."

She lied. No, not quite a lie. What she said was somewhere in between, she was confident in her words without really stating the full truth. The policemen, maybe. Or that reporter? One of them had tipped them off.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. She didn't buy it.

"The possibility of a trigger event came up," she said, nodding to Dad before explaining it, knowing he was probably unfamiliar with the term. I wasn't, I knew exactly what it was. "That is the moment a parahuman receives their power, a usually very traumatic event that is the worst day of someone's life. Due to the incident a week ago, I was sent to ask Ms. Hebert if she had obtained powers."

Dad looked confused, then scowled, then back to confusion. Then his stare turned to me, suddenly comprehending just what she was implying.

"And if she does?" He asked.

"Then we would like to recruit her to the Wards team, a place where young parahumans can train to use their powers in a safe environment with people in their age group to have a healthy social life."

Truth. She believed what she said. The Wards team was promoted as that online as well last time I checked.

"And if I didn't wish to join, that is, if I had powers?" I asked. She knew I had powers, so I didn't actually have to worry about asking these 'hypothetical' questions.

"We'd never force you to," she said. "And your father would have to give his permission. If you were to join, all of the medical equipment of the Protectorate and possibly even the help of healer capes could be used to heal your legs, however."

Bribery, ah, the sincerest form of-

No, for some reason, this actually pissed me off. What with people who actually did something similar that I did and didn't have powers? Maybe she just phrased it badly, but I didn't want to be bribed in such a way. I scowled slightly, and she seemed to have caught on to the fact of why. She wasn't bad at reading people either, it seems.

"I apologize," Trucy said. "I didn't wish to imply that you would be simply left on your own because the you were not a parahuman-"

"That's quite alright." I shook my head, calming down. My left hand kept moving behind me, from where she couldn't see it, I had to keep moving.

"No, please, let me," she began, and stopped. After she thought for a while, she started to speak again. "Due to what you did, the mayor wants to give you a medal, and the entire citizenship of Brockton Bay is singing your name outside of these walls, calling you a hero in the same breath as Armsmaster and Miss Militia. Even if you do not join the PRT, I am sure that you will on a higher priority to have your legs checked by someone like Panacea-"

"I said," I interrupted her, squeezing my eyes shut. "It's alright. I am not a parahuman, I did not get powers, and I do not want any priority-"

At the last statement, I could feel Dad's eyes snap to me, but I ignored the feeling in my chest and kept my eyes closed, trying to think and not read them.

"I will wait for however long it takes if Panacea deems it fit to heal me, and if she doesn't," I continued. "Then that's that. I'll just go to school like usual, with a pair of wheels instead of legs, and I'll do it knowing that the other people before me will be healed because they waited such a long time for it."

"... I understand," Trucy said, sounding… impressed? I couldn't really place the tone without reading her face, it seems I could practice that a bit more. "If you ever change your mind, Ms. Hebert, please call us with the number on the card."

"Alright."

I knew exactly why I was angry, and that just made my temper flare up more. The possibility of Panacea healing me came to mind, yes, but the implication of having her take care of me before taking care of others? One would argue that it would 'only be a few minutes', but those few minutes add up, those minutes are what people have been waiting for, and I imagine that those waiting lists were huge.

I waited until the woman left before opening my eyes again, staring at Dad. He looked disappointed.

"You could have been healed," he said.

"I don't care," I told him honestly. I had all the time in the world to find my peace. "I did something reckless, and I'm not going to take someone's spot on a list they waited for."

"I get that, but… but it would have been nice," he said, dejected. "Just going home with everything like it was."

"Maybe," I said. "But it's not something I want."

I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. The Wards seemed like an attractive possibility until I heard this offer anyone else would have jumped on. Maybe if I didn't have all those minutes, all those hours, where I was lying in bed and thinking, maybe I would have jumped onto the train that was offered to me.

"You're not parahuman, right?" He asked again.

"No," I lied. "I'm just a really stupid, impulsive and reckless person."
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 9: Screech​

I, the great and all powerful Taylor Hebert, Master of Reading Books Quickly and Jack of the unique and almost rare trade of using shitty facts from books I've read quickly to sound smarter, have realized something.

There was a big difference between using a wheelchair and walking, and being bored in a hospital bed was a lot better than trying to use this hellish thing. Especially because my thumb was still fucked up. Maybe I should get one of those automatic ones, but I heard using one like these was good for me because it still allowed a certain degree of exercise.

Now, I have my principles and I would stick to them, but now that I actually got into this thing? I felt horrible and sorry for everyone who shared my plight. Part of it came from the fact that the slow movements I could do with my broken finger, due to the hard time I had gripping something, made moving forward even more annoying.

Begrudgingly, I allowed Dad to move me while I kept swinging my arms at the side to move forward in time. Some people were really nice and waved and called my name. Yay, I'm fame.

Still, I would be allowed a few days at home before I had to go to school after passing a few tests. Or I could go and have those tests at a later date if I felt up to it. Teachers were apparently competent enough to deal with this. Who would have thought?

Apparently people who suddenly lost their legs could have problems with their psyche and they wanted to make sure that I was still a totally balanced individual.

I'm pretty sure that they won't find anything wrong with me!

At least I managed to catch up with some news and found the name of the girl I saved, Veronica something something. Last name omitted. Well, I wasn't going to complain that she didn't visit me, because she was probably inside a clinic that would take care of her.

When we finally arrived at home, and Dad opened the door, I found myself with my first challenge.

The stairs to the upper floor, where my room was.

"I want to do it," I said before Dad could offer to help me. I wanted to do it, just so I could see if I could. If I could, then I would at least keep some independence and that would allow me to move on.

I lifted myself out of the wheelchair, dropping onto the floor and ignored Dad's rather loud protests. I heard there were some people who could actually keep their balance in a way that allowed them to take the stairs step by step, simply by dragging the wheels up. I doubted I had the strength for that, even if the stairs hadn't been so narrow as to prevent the wheelchair from moving up and down anyway.

My finger hurt slightly as I began dragging myself up, and despite the fact that my legs weighed a thousand tons as I took step by step with my hands, I didn't make a sound, to avoid Dad rushing up to me and help.

It took a while, I can't say for sure how long considering the pauses I made with everything around me freezing, but I finally reached the top.

Giving Dad both of my thumbs up… well, one of them. And one small splint. Despite my arms shaking as if I just had lifted the world, I smiled at him, and yet I could see him look even more hurt. I really wish he would stop giving me this look. The look he kept giving me since I vehemently rejected the PRT's offer to give me some priority with healing.

As much as I wanted to stick to my principles, accepting the PRT's offer seemed more attractive than ever. My arms hurt, but I still moved towards my room. If I could finally distract myself, I'd go to Arcadia right tomorrow.

I felt hurt, however. More than I wanted to admit, at this point. The people who became friends with me after the bullying stopped were apparently too uncomfortable with me now, and maybe they even caught onto the fact that I lied to them about having to get home quickly considering the incident I was caught up in immediately afterwards.

The incident that made my quite recognizable in the street. My theory about why the mayor was so interested in giving me some kind of medal was because of the former incident in the supermarket and this incident being so close to each other, combined with the fact that the news are blowing this way out of proportion.

'The heroic sacrifice', they called it. I'm sure heroes get these medals all the time, then, considering at how much danger they put themselves in, especially in a city that had people like Lung and Kaiser running rampart.

I moved to my ass to my room, opening the door and all but falling into it as the hinges screeched when I put my weight onto the handle. It took a bit of time to regain some feeling in my arms again before moving towards my bed. I lay down, staring at the ceiling. Home sweet home. And yet, I really shouldn't be so happy to be here considering what a horrible daughter I was.

Dad looked just as torn as he did after Mom's accident. I almost expected him to try to find a way to homeschool me while locking me up forever, but he wasn't that kinda person. He had a hard time stating his mind unless he was angry, and while he was quick to anger, he quickly stopped if he noticed that his temper was flaring up at me. Especially now with my legs being all but gone.

I didn't want him to treat me differently, but that didn't mean he wouldn't even if I told him to.

My arms circling to keep time moving, I kept thinking until I was interrupted. A knock, it didn't quite sound like it was the door, but I reflexively shouted out "Come in."

They did. A shadow that moved through my window, the place where the knock came from.

"Huh, looks rather plain," the person said. I recognized her, she had a site on PHO about the PRT ENE. Shadow Stalker, a Ward… wait, she just entered my room.

"Did you just break into my room?" I asked.

"You said to enter," she shrugged, her mask making her voice sound strange. I could hear something familiar from it, but I couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was just the way her voice echoed in the mask. "Look at you, you're pathetic."

"And you don't sound genuine while you say that," I retorted, slightly taken aback at the directness. Still, even without reading her facial expressions, her body told me enough about her to know she wasn't actually hostile or otherwise ill intended. "Did the PRT send you to check if I'm a parahuman?"

"Nah," she said. "I just wanted to see the new 'hero' of Brockton Bay. Heard that you didn't want to join us for some reason."

"I didn't want preferential treatment," I said, narrowing my eyes. She wasn't really lying, but there was something more. "I can deal and wait until I get a turn with Panacea's healing if she even accepts cases like me."

"Sounds pretty retarded to me," she said, sitting down on my chair. "But that's your choice. See, I really respect what you did, that takes balls, but how you did it? Damn, that was stupid."

Even if she was rude and technically fooled me into inviting her into my room, it was better than being treated like some piece of china ware. And yes, it was stupid, that made me grin, it sent all those happy feelings up again. It was stupid and it was fun. "Yeah, but it was awesome."

"What? Helping someone?" She asked.

"That too." I nodded. Were all Wards this direct? I might actually join and just chill with them when I got time instead of being a cape outside, put off healing by their capes long enough. "But that moment between the sky and the ground, that uncertainty? That was pure awesome."

She chuckled, her shoulders shaking.

"You're insane," she said.

"You're the one who just came in through the window."

"Touché," she said, a grin on her face if the way her voice sounded wasn't lying to me.

"Maybe I should get hurt more often, you think I can get Armsmaster to visit me next time?" I asked. "I really like him."

"He's not all that great in person," Shadow Stalker told me. "But I doubt that he'd come by, not really the home visit kind of person unless you have a Tinkertech meth lab in the basement."

A plan to consider. Step 1: Get a Tinker whose speciality is Meth. Step 2: Armsmaster.

Brilliant.

"Uhuh," I nodded. "Uh, can I offer you something? Coffee? Tea? You know, you might actually have to get it yourself because I'm not going to climb up the stairs again if I go down."

"Nah, that's alright," she said. "Have fun at Arcadia with all the other posh kids, Ms. Cripple."

I'm not sure just what led to a hero having actual interest in me and actually seek me out at home, but I'm at least twenty-five percent happier at having a casual conversation with a person who wasn't afraid to be honest with me.

"Will do, maybe we'll meet there," I said. "The Wards do go to Arcadia, right?"

"Can't confirm or deny that." She shrugged.

"Dang, was worth a shot."
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Another one.

VereorNox said:
Chapter 10: Friend​

When I woke up, I almost forgot that I couldn't use my legs anymore. It was strange, now that I was home again, I wanted to repeat the pattern of going on a run.

Instead I sighed, moped around for a little bit and then dragged myself to the shower, a feat that wasn't as hard as I thought. The realization that actually moving was a lot easier if I also used my upper body to drag me slightly came a bit late, because I had barely spent time practicing inside the hospital.

They also had a lot of elevators there so I could use my wheelchair on every floor. That might have added to the fact that I wasn't very comfortable outside of one right now.

Today was the day I would take over the world!

Or rather, Arcadia. I hoped that the people there weren't as quick to abandon me as my friends from Winslow. Dicks. Especially Mary.

The shower was quick and painless. Well, not painless, the wounds on my body were still rather annoying, but they didn't open up. The clothes I had taken with me were nearby on the floor, while the towels were low enough for me to reach them. Maybe I should get another wheelchair for the upper floor. That would be smart. Maybe a bit costly, but still a possibility.

Dressed and ready to go, I dragged myself to the stairs, sitting at the top. I wish I had a slide.

Instead, I took each step individually, dragging my ass down…

Then up. Then down again. Then up. This was… a lot more comfortable. But each time I went down, it shook me slightly, bobbing my head.

This was annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying, I didn't know these stairs had this many steps, annoying, annoying. But now I didn't skip arm day either, which means that I would become strong soon enough. My new wheels were in sight, and I got into them on my first try.

The first hurdle of this new pattern was lying defeated at my feet. Or my hands. Either way, luckily, we didn't have much that blocked the way left and right, allowing me to move quite comfortably to the kitchen and grab some bread. The second hurdle - the stuff I'd actually put onto a sandwich was higher in the fridge than I could reach.

Nevertheless, I would not fail, and dragged myself up and put my knees under me, giving me a slight increase in height. Using my upper body strength, as lacking as it was, I managed to reach the ham. Second hurdle mastered. The fact that I slipped slightly and managed to send the mayonnaise to the ground with a shattering sound did nothing to hinder me, but it was enough to wake my Dad, who was standing in the kitchen just a second after I was finished making my half-assed sandwich.

He looked very threatening with that book his hand. The sandwich was horrible, I wish I had the mayonnaise.

"Taylor?" He asked, half- asleep apparently. "What happened, I heard a crash…"

"I dropped the mayo, my bad," I said, looking at the floor. "Just tried to make myself a sandwich."

I could have caught the mayonnaise if I didn't have the ham in one hand and the bread in the other. In hindsight, I could have put the bread onto the table.

"You could have woken me up," he said, sighing. He began gathering up the larger shards with his hands. I wanted to help him, but going onto the floor was probably a very bad idea for me. I was really a bother for him, wasn't I?

"I didn't want to bother you," I admitted.

"You're never going to be a bother, Taylor," he said. His words made me happy, and he wasn't lying. It almost made me feel guilty reading him on this. He's someone I should trust either way, but…

But nothing. I'd have to stop doing this with him. Maybe close my eyes? No, that would be worse. When he finished most of it, he took a look at the clock.

"We have to go soon, don't we?"

"We?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll drive you there, there's more than enough space for the wheelchair in the car."

"I don't want you to drive me," I told him. I'd need to work on this pattern on my own, and Arcadia wasn't much further away than Winslow from where we lived, so I could deal.

"Just… just let me do it today," he said. "I'd like to see your new school before dropping you off, maybe meet a teacher or two."

That explains why he wanted to go so early. I nodded, accepting the compromise.

"Maybe you should take a quick shower before that, though," I said, smiling at him. He grimaced before he nodded.

The half finished sandwich wasn't actually tasty, but I had to finish it. For the mayonnaise. I'll never forget you.

###

Ah! Arcadia, the castle to Winslow's dungeon. The heaven to Winslow's hell. The antibody to Winslow's diseases.

Dad put the wheelchair next to the passenger door and I lifted myself into it, grabbing the slightly ripped bag from under me. The bag I had thrown through a window while it was filled with all kinds of heavy books. I'd not pity it - it was scarred like a real hero would be.

It was actually really cool how the school was built. The offices were inside the crosspiece in between the two larger buildings.

The new repeating movement I used to move forward was often fidgeting at the side of the wheels. Either that, or using them to actually move, which kept time flowing good. Dad was walking behind me as we approached the office. He knocked twice before opening the door. No other students were in school yet, it seems. Well… it was an entire hour before school started so I couldn't blame them.

Two women stood there, one sitting in a chair behind the desk, the other talking to her from the front of it. They looked mature, dressed professionally. The woman in front of the desk turned around with a surprised look on her face when the secretary stopped talking to her.

"Welcome to Arcadia," the woman in the front said. "I'm Vice Principal Howell."

She had bleached hair, and looked like a witch if I imagined her with a pointy hat.

"I'm Taylor Hebert," I said, raising my hand. "And that's my Dad."

She blinked twice, then crossed her arms.

"I didn't actually expect you to arrive this early, Ms. Hebert, we thought you'd take a week longer to adjust."

"I didn't want to wait and I'm really fine, so don't worry about me, I'll still go to the mandated couselling after school," I promised. "I just wanted to start again as early as possible so I didn't fall behind much further."

"That's admirable," she said, smiling politely. It was a practiced smile that had just a twinge of genuinity behind it. "I'm glad to have such a student join us. Good day to you too, Mr. Hebert."

"Hello," Dad said, shaking her hand when she stepped forward and offered it. "I'm not actually sure how the transfers were done so quickly, so I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

"Of course," she said.

"I'm not going to stick around," I said. "I'll have to explore a bit."

"If you wish to take a look at the school for now, let me give you this," she said, reaching over the desk and taking a small key from under it. The secretary was busy talking on the phone. Giving the key to me, she smiled that polite smile again. "It's the key to the elevators. Students aren't actually supposed to use them unless they have a condition like yours, please keep it as long as you are here."

"Thank you," I said, smiling back. Dad began speaking with her as soon as I left the office.

I found myself captivated by the huge cafeteria and the clean look of everything. It truly was a huge contrast to Winslow.

When I finally had enough from sightseeing most of the classrooms that looked the same, I ended up near the entrance again. A few students were finally arriving. This is it, Taylor, time to make a good impression. The tanned boy that arrived with two friends actually waved back at me when I waved. Progress!

When they arrived at the entrance, they stopped.

"Hey, are you new?" He asked. How adorable, he actually attempted to not look at my legs or the wheelchair.

"Yes, just joined today, I'm Taylor Hebert," I said, offering my hand. He shook it, and one of his friends tapped his shoulder.

"That's her!" He said. "The girl from the news!"

They looked at me strangely now, some kind of expression I couldn't immediately place. Surprise? Disbelief? Some mixture of that. Then it turned into awe. The guy on the right, who hadn't even began talking, looked ready to cry.

Shit, now I felt uncomfortable. What the hell?

"I… apologize for Eric over here, he's been a bit emotional whenever your story came up in the news," the tanned guy said. "He says it was so heroic that it just brings him to tears-"

"That's totally alright," I said. No it wasn't, it was awkward, but still kind of cute. But awkward. Very awkward. "I actually don't know where I have to go, I suppose I should go to the office again first. Want to accompany me?"

"Sure," he said.

Success, Taylor. You made friends!
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Chapter 11: Enemy
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    • Chapter 11: Enemy​

    Finally being back at school came with a most annoying realization.

    Sitting at a desk and following class did not allow me to swing my hands around to let the time advance faster. I could fidget around the side of my wheelchair, but it drew a lot more attention than just bouncing my leg.

    Sadly, that wasn't a possibility anymore. I felt myself growing annoyed again, and once again felt just a bit of regret of not accepting the PRT's offer to push me up the waiting list. I doubted I would actually go insane considering just how much time I spent in my head rather than in my body.

    Well, not literally. More figuratively. I wasn't actually in my head, that would just be stupid.

    Still, moving this slowly led to a bit of fear. I didn't want to stagnate, I didn't want to stop and never move again. I didn't want to remain trapped in my body. Right now I managed to get around it by writing and moving my other hand forward and backwards under the table, trying to make as much movement as possible with it. It wasn't quite as effective as my leg, but it was still something. Whenever my arm tired, I began to stretch, move my head to the left and right.

    I actually saw one or two people cringe at the popping sound. It was quite a fun reaction to see.

    Sadly, the tanned boy, whose name I eventually learned to be Ryan, and his two friends Eric and Jason were not in my classes, due to being upperclassmen of mine. It could have been nice, hmph.

    Maybe I should try to take a test to skip this year. It wouldn't really be too far-fetched. I could use my extended stay at the hospital as an excuse. Or maybe just pretend I'm a genius who never liked to show it. Yes, truly a genius plan.

    Lunch break was after this class, so I could get to meet them there again. The ringing bell was a goddamn relief because I could finally use my arms to move around again, which allowed me to advance time a lot further.

    I hoped that taking big swings to reach my mouth and eat my food wasn't going to make people think I'm wrong in the head.

    Now, I knew exactly where the cafeteria was, but the best way to make friends is by feigning ignorance. So when a girl from the class came up to me and introduced herself as Wendy, I immediately shook her hand and introduced myself with a smile.

    While the wheelchair didn't make me unapproachable, it seems that most people were actually nervous to speak to me because they were afraid of saying something wrong, especially with my reputation as of late.

    Hero Taylor had a nice ring to it.

    "Do you want me to show you the way to the cafeteria?" Wendy asked. I nodded, bobbing my head up and down while swinging my arms next to my wheels. She took the lead towards the elevator.

    "You're the first person not to fidget and ask me if I needed help with moving," I noted. "Thanks for that."

    "That's alright, my sister's also in a wheelchair and she really dislikes being mothered, so I won't help unless asked for it," she said, sticking out her tongue slightly.

    "That's one way of doing things," I said, laughing. "I really like this school."

    "Yeah, it's awesome, isn't it?" She asked. I nodded, confirming it again. Compared to Winslow, this was a paradise. I couldn't repeat that often enough. "They say the Wards go to this school, so everyone is always busy gossiping and trying to find out who's who."

    "Really?" I asked. "I mean, are you sure all Wards go here? That'd make the school an easier target, right?"

    "I don't know," she said. We arrived at the elevator and I opened it up with the key. Because nobody else used it, I never had to wait for it and it was always at the floor where I left it. "It's a big school, after all."

    "Yeah, there's not really that many Wards, so they could probably be anyone," I said. "Maybe even me!"

    She chuckled, shaking her head as she stepped into the elevator with me. Piggybacking on me to use the elevator, how horrible. "I think we'd know about a Ward in a wheelchair."

    "My secret identity wouldn't be very safe, would it?" I grinned. She laughed again, and I joined in.

    ###

    The cafeteria was huge, though it looked a lot smaller now that it was crowded and filled to the brim with students who were sitting on all the tables. People parted when I followed Wendy, though if it was due to my intimidating presence or the fact that they didn't want me to roll over their feet, I did not know.

    "You really can't sit still, can you?" Wendy commented. "You always keep moving your arms even when you're not moving around."

    "It's a bad habit," I admitted, not stopping. "I used to bounce my leg, need to have all that pent up energy leave my body somehow, you know?"

    "Not really," she admitted. "I'd love to have days where I was just lying in bed and not moving at all.

    "Believe me, that can become old really quickly," I said. Maybe I wasn't really the most unbiased person to say this, but what did she know about my power? Nothing! I'm a totally normal individual who only has the bad habit of moving around like a child on a sugar high.

    A girl stepped into my way, staring down at me as Wendy continued, not noticing that I had stopped. I knew her, at least I think I did. I saw her in the news, nope, nope, yes. Glory Girl.

    New Wave. Sister of Panacea. She was in Brockton Bay while her sister was in Canberra, still healing people after the Endbringer attack.

    "You're Taylor Herbert, right?" She asked. People looked towards us, the prominent face of Glory Girl, or rather, Victoria Dallon, and the hero who snapped her back. I saw someone record us with their smartphone.

    "Yes?" I said. Wendy had noticed I wasn't behind her anymore and turned back towards us, confused. I felt uncomfortable around this girl, but I couldn't say why. Victoria had some kind of Aura, didn't she? I don't know what it was, but it seemed to scratch me in the same way as weaker drugs did.

    "My sister's being ripped apart in the news because of you," Victoria said. I blinked. "They say you refused healing by her."

    "I did," I said. How did the media even hear about this? Did they also know about the PRT trying to recruit me? No, I didn't see anything about that in the news. Nor did I see anything about Panacea, actually. Was that recent? Did I check the wrong channels? Maybe I should start checking online news instead of relying on the TV. Victoria looked… annoyed? Was that such big of a deal for her?

    "Why?" She asked. The people around us began talking louder, apparently also surprised by the news. Maybe the PRT contacted New Wave independently? No, she said 'news'. Nobody could actually check the news here, as far as I know, due to the Faraday Cage around the school.

    "I didn't want to get preferential treatment," I said, stating the same thing I had told the woman from the PRT, a bit politer this time. "People who waited long shouldn't have to wait longer for me."

    My arms were still swinging at the side of the chair while Victoria's eyes narrowed slightly. Annoyance. Why was she so annoyed? What the hell did those news say? Was I made up to be some kind of demonic figure who was bullying poor Panacea? Was it actually the other way around.

    "Because the way these news sound," Victoria immediately said. "It sounds like my sister had refused to heal you."

    "I'm sorry," I said, thinking about the words I was about to say. If she was so annoyed with me, there was no need to be polite. "But am I in any way responsible about how the media is trying to slander your sister?"

    I wasn't. So fuck trying to imply I am. I stopped my hands from moving, then moved them slightly to advance time at a snail pace and read every expression on her face.

    Annoyance flared to anger. Disbelief?

    I didn't really like her. I wish Shadow Stalker was going to this school, that was someone I could get along with. Before she could say something both of us would probably regret, or mostly her if I really wanted to play the victim, I interrupted her.

    "I don't want to be a bother, but I'm not going to be healed until I have my turn, and not unless Panacea even wants to heal me," I told her. "I'm not mourning the loss of my legs. I did it to help someone."

    Hook, line and sinker. I was saying the truth, but that didn't mean I couldn't just bask in the greatness that was the positive attention of the approving stares.

    Yes, I had so many friends! Or fans. I'm not sure about the difference at this point, but Ryan, Eric and Jason finally found their way to me. Wendy was awfully silent during my small conversation with Glory Girl.

    Honestly, I was wondering what she expected of me. Say I was going to get healed to stop people saying something horrible about her sister? Maybe she should talk to the assholes at the press. And despite the fact that I am the good guy in the eyes of most of these students, I had the small feeling that I had made myself an enemy as Victoria left, looking dissatisfied with my answer.
     
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    • Is Panacea currently not at Arcadia or something? It's really unclear what's going on. It would only take her like 10 seconds to heal Taylor, and it's not like Taylor is taking anybody's place if Panacea heals her at school.
     
    Shadowghost said:
    Is Panacea currently not at Arcadia or something? It's really unclear what's going on. It would only take her like 10 seconds to heal Taylor, and it's not like Taylor is taking anybody's place if Panacea heals her at school.
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    It's been stated she is currently in Canberra, which would have been the endbringer attack (Simurgh) before the canon Levi\Brockton Bay attack, Panacea stayed there out of town for awhile after the attack. Healing those hurt on location,
     
    douglas dees said:
    It's been stated she is currently in Canberra, which would have been the endbringer attack (Simurgh) before the canon Levi\Brockton Bay attack, Panacea stayed there out of town for awhile after the attack. Healing those hurt on location,
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    Ah that makes sense! I don't get why Glory Girl/the media is an issue then, if Panacea isn't even around.

    Vereornox, you've been a beast when it comes to cranking out chapters. Hope you keep it up!
     
    What the hell did Victoria want? Here's someone who does not expect Amy to heal her and so.....oh wait, It's Glory Girl. Little miss I'll throw a dumpster at a human being and call up my sister to heal him at 2 o clock in the morning (or whatever time it was when she did). Sheesh. Awesome chapter. Wanna see what happens next.
     
    Okay, this plot point of the wheelchair has really gotten annoying. Taylor recognizes that it's messing with her father and her own powers and she utterly refuses to have it looked at, even when Panacea is willing to have her jump the line? Enough's enough.
     
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