I was in a thrift store, browsing through a rack of coats, Sveta just in front of me, looking through a different rack. We were talking, discussing which type of clothes she liked, picking out several different coats and showing them to each other. It was easy, being in Sveta's presence. I was a lot of things to a lot of people; a daughter, a hero, a coworker, a leader, an obsession. But Sveta was the only person I could truly be myself with, without having to worry about any sort of label. To her, I was just Victoria.
The scene shifted again.
I was standing in a room, my teammates setting things up. A whiteboard in the corner, the writing on it illegible. Kenzie was working on her technology, excitedly chatting with Ashley and Sveta, though I couldn't make out what they were saying. Tristan and Rain were discussing the things written on the whiteboard, the former then blurred and became Byron, still continuing the conversation.
I felt proud of them in that moment.
I awoke to a series of loud beeps, and I groggily reached out to my phone, turning off my alarm. A bittersweet, longing feeling rose in my chest, as I remembered the dream I was having. I miss all of them so much that it physically hurt, in the same way that my heart used to hurt whenever I thought of Dean, in an ironic way. I got him back, but lost everything else in the process.
I sighed and flipped myself over onto my back, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. When I reopened them, I saw Fragile floating above me, her 'torso' disappearing into my pillow, almost like my head was resting in her lap, if she had one. It'd become sort of a routine for us, as she always seemed to be cradling or hugging me when I woke up in the morning.
I reached up and rubbed her cheek, and her eyes scrunched up as she leant into it.
"That was you, wasn't it? You gave me that dream?"
She silently nodded her head. Not that I'd expect her to talk, or if she was even capable of it.
"The first bit was when we went out to the mall, I can remember that clearly, but the second was when we were first setting up our hideout, I think. Did you give me that to cheer me up, Fragile?"
She gently stroked my hair, and then disappeared again. Parahumans have a complicated relationship to dreams. Some stopped dreaming entirely, others had ones that were incredibly lucid, and then there were the oddities like Rain's cluster dream. So it did make sense for Fragile to be able to simulate a memory into a dream, but she too was an oddity, an extreme outlier for most agents.
I rolled onto my side, shifting my braid so I wasn't resting my head on it, and opened up my phone.
Wednesday, 13th April, 2011. 7:10 AM.
I checked some threads on PHO about Brockton, and most of them were still going on about the 'mysterious' new cape that had taken down Lung last Sunday, and there were rumours abound on if she was going to join the Protectorate, stay independent, or potentially become a villain. The fact that the PRT's official statement was incredibly vague about the whole situation, only stating that a cape called 'Khepri', who was an 'insect controller', had defeated the crime lord and allowed him to be arrested.
Hm.
I then sent a good morning text to Dean, then got out of bed and spent a few minutes tidying it up from my tossing and turning, and then did some daily stretches, another habit I picked up from my physiotherapy after I got shot. Although I technically didn't need to do them, it made me feel a little less like Glory Girl and a little more like Antares.
After that, I headed downstairs and got started on preparing my breakfast, grabbing a packet of bacon from the fridge, quietly humming to myself. I put two slices of bread into the toaster, and began frying my bacon when Mum walked into the kitchen, eyes bleary and hair dishevelled, and immediately started making herself a cup of coffee.
"You seem to be in a good mood." She remarked, while she waited for the kettle to boil. "Is there a reason why?"
The initial shock I'd felt when I first woke up had worn off at this point, and by now I felt a little more comfortable being back in the past. Although I still felt the ache of what I'd lost, the dream I had made that ache lessened it, if only by a little.
Speaking of which, my new PHO account should be able to personally message other accounts soon, which meant I could start messaging Sveta. We'd already chatted a few times in some public threads, just so that it wouldn't be weird if I sent her a friend request.
"Eh, not really. Woke up on the right side of the bed, I suppose?" I replied, shrugging.
She looked at me from the corner of her eye, giving me her
'I know you're hiding something from me but I don't want to push it' look. My younger self wouldn't have recognised it, but now that I'd seen Carol at much lower points, it had been easier reading her.
"...That's good. You've been a little quiet for the past couple of days, so I was wondering if something had happened, but I'm glad that it was nothing." She said, continuing to stare at me, implying that I was supposed to disagree with her statement and come clean with the 'truth'. A particular dialect of Carol-ese that I was now familiar with.
I hummed instead, focusing on cooking my breakfast.
She gave me another one of her disapproving frowns, and spoke again.
"Well, I just need to remind you that as your mother, you can trust me with anything. So if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open."
I was half tempted to mention how I knew about her affair with Uncle Neil, just to see how she'd react.
Instead, I just hummed again, and placed my now cooked bacon onto my toast, adding a little bit of salt and pepper onto it. Breakfast in hand, I walked over to the table and sat down, browsing my phone as I ate. Mum poured her cup of coffee, glanced at the digital clock on the stove and sighed.
"Victoria, once you finished your breakfast could you go and wake your sister up? If she sleeps in any longer she'll be late for school."
"Did she sneak out to heal last night?" I asked.
"No, she didn't. There was a fight between the Merchants and the Empire, and your sister had to be called in to heal the civilians caught in the crossfire."
And now to see if I could push her a little.
"I think she should take a break from healing." I said, deliberately sighing for the effect, "I'm worried that she's going to burn herself out at this rate."
"What do you mean, specifically? Stopping her from healing outside of her pre-planned schedule or healing altogether?"
"Healing altogether, for a week or two, at least," I clarified, "She doesn't have any interests or hobbies, and has no real friends of her own. Maybe during the next school holidays I can try convincing her to try out some new things, if she doesn't spend all that time healing."
Mum sat down opposite me, and took a few gulps of her coffee.
"There's two problems with that, Victoria. One, is that your sister is
incredibly stubborn when it comes to her healing. You already know how much we've both pleaded with her to stop spending so much time at the hospitals," She explained, almost condescendingly, "And the second is very much the same; I've asked her numerous times if she wanted to see a therapist, only for her to state how she doesn't need it."
That's true, Amy is stubborn like that. But it doesn't seem like you're trying hard enough, I thought.
"Can't you force her to attend a session, or force her to stop healing? Since she's not eighteen yet, and you have legal guardianship." I argued.
There were times that I thought of how things could've gone differently with Amy, if she'd gone to therapy earlier or had her own friends or what I could've done differently. And now that I'm here again, I have to put my money where my mouth is and actually do something about it, regardless of my own feelings towards her.
Carol gave me an odd, indecipherable look, like she either wanted to scold me for rudely talking back like that and being surprised that I did.
"...I don't want to force her to do anything she's uncomfortable with doing. If she says that she doesn't need therapy, I'm inclined to trust her." She said, looking out of the glass door that led to the veranda, obviously avoiding making eye contact with me, "That goes for you too, Victoria. I wouldn't force you to do anything you'd be uncomfortable with doing."
I decided to not respond to that, and finished the rest of my breakfast in silence instead. Pushing her further would've just led to an argument that would've gone nowhere, given how my mother doesn't like backing down or admitting fault to things. Carol did do those things on Gimel, but that was only after seeing everything she cared about break apart.
After finishing, I put my dishes in the dishwasher and headed upstairs, knocking on Amy's door on the way past, and continued getting ready, choosing my outfit for the day: my long dress that was decorated with Brockton's skyline, one of the few possessions I managed to scavenge after Gold Morning, plus a plain white blouse and the New Wave hoodie.
I did my makeup and grabbed the essentials for the day ahead. A few notebooks, a pencil case, a book on parahumans that I borrowed from the library for an assignment, and other miscellaneous things, all carefully placed into my passenger bag. As I headed downstairs again, I opened up my phone and looked at the time.
8:20 AM.
I needed to leave soon since I'd been driving to school rather than flying, mostly to avoid having to be in close proximity to Amy. I could handle being near her when I absolutely needed to, but my heart still started racing from adrenaline and that familiar bile of hatred rose within me whenever she was within a couple of feet of me.
The other reason was getting some genuine practice with being behind the wheel, which I can admit I'm pretty bad at, requiring certain skills and an awareness I hadn't mastered yet.
When I exited the hallway I could see Amy sitting down at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee in front of her, wearing her Panacea jacket and a t-shirt of one of those punk bands she liked. A tote bag full of school equipment sat next to her chair.
"Morning, Amy." I said, sitting opposite to her.
"Mor-aaaaah," She yawned, "Morning, Vicky."
Amy looked like she was half-asleep, her posture sagging forwards, almost face-planting into her bowl of now soggy cereal before she woke herself up again.
"When did you get home from the hospital last night?" I asked.
"Four or five in the morning. Lost track of time. Didn't want to wake you so one of the heroes drove me home." She mumbled, slowly eating a spoonful of her breakfast.
"I think you should stay home for the day, Amy. You're in no way fit to go to school with only getting a couple of hours of sleep."
"Mum wouldn't allow me to, so I can't. Asked the same question before and she said it'll reflect badly on the team and as a hero if I miss too many days and let my grades slip."
"Do you want me to go and ask-"
"
Don't." She interrupted, pleading to me in a quiet voice, "I don't want to get lectured at again. I'll be fine once I've finished my coffee, and my first period is a spare so I can sleep through that. Just don't mention any of this to Mum,
please."
I knew that Amy was pretty unhappy for most of her life, and that Carol didn't do a proper job of being a mother to her, and only realised that mistake after everything went to shit. Was it because she was reminded of Marquis every time she looked at Amy, who looked almost exactly like him?
"...Alright. I won't tell her anything, cross my heart and all that," I whispered gently, and activated my forcefield, leaning towards her with my pinky out, "But promise me that the next time you stay back that late, you'll take it easy, ok?"
Amy gave me a weak smile and curled her pinky around mine. She looked confused for a second, then shook her head and downed the rest of her coffee.
"I'm good to go, if you're ready." She said, looking a little bit more awake.
I nodded at her and yelled, "Mum! Amy and I are leaving!"
"Have a good day, you two! Stay out of trouble!" She yelled back from her office.
I got up from the table and headed towards the garage, where the only car my family owned awaited: a silver station wagon, brought by my parents just after I was born, now mostly unused other than a weekly errand trip. Cars were sort of useless when there were several fliers in our extended family, and that there were a row of delightful locally owned stores only a couple of streets away.
I opened the driver's side and got in, as Amy did with the passenger side, and I drove us to school, making sure to go a little slower so I wouldn't cause an accident.
It felt dissonant being back at Arcadia again. During my time at the asylum, it was something I looked back on with longing and nostalgia, wishing I could go back to those halcyon days. Chatting with my friends, learning so much about so many different subjects, hanging out with Dean. Things I couldn't do in the hospital.
After Gold Morning I still viewed it with the same emotions, just with a little bit of embarrassment of just how immature I was at the time, both as a person and as a hero. I didn't like thinking too much about it anyway, because of how many memories of my time here were tainted by
her.
And now I was here again, for better or worse.
I pulled into a parking space, pulled up the handbrake and turned off the engine. Thankfully I managed to get through the rush-hour traffic without incident, or even any close calls. Amy had fallen asleep as soon as we left the house and had yet to reawaken.
It was the first time in recent memory that I've seen her look this peaceful.
"Amy, we're here." I said, with a lowered voice.
"Alre-aaaah," She yawned again, "Already?"
"Unfortunately. But you can head to the library and take a nap there, if you want."
She mumbled something, too quietly and too strung together for me to understand what she said, and stepped out of the car. I got out and locked it, and we walked inside the foyer area side by side, another familiar thing that we did together that I never second guessed.
I still had no idea how I felt about that, easily slipping into long forgotten habits I had with this girl who I was proud to be a sister of, and who I trusted more than myself.
As we entered, avoiding the gathering crowd of other students, who were shuffling towards their first class or meeting up with their friends, there was someone who stood out like a sore thumb. A tall woman with thin, black hair, wearing a white blouse, black pencil skirt and a matching black blazer was scanning the crowd. Samantha Graham, the principal of Arcadia, I remembered faintly.
When she made eye contact with me, she gave me a massive, beaming smile and walked over.
"Ah, just the two girls I was looking for! How are you two today?" She asked, pleasant and energetic. I remembered that she tried to make us mascots of the school, sort of. In a 'Come to Arcadia, we have public heroes attending!' sort of way, like how she asked both Amy and I to be front and centre during the school's Open Day. I used to enthusiastically take part in those types of events, but now I see it as a little skeevy.
"We're good, Mrs. Graham. I'm heading to my first class and Amy's going to the library." I responded, as Amy looked far too tired to deal with the sudden social interaction.
"That's good! Now, I have a bit of a favour to ask the both of you, and it won't take
too much of your time, I promise." She said, and then continued before I could say anything, "We're getting a new transfer student from Winslow, and if all goes well she'll be officially starting next week. Now, from what I've heard from the principal of Winslow, she's been a massive target of bullying there, and implied that the girl was targeted by students involved in the gangs, which is why she's getting transferred."
I couldn't remember if this was new, or if it happened in the previous timeline, since my memories of this time were muddled and cloudy.
"Sure, what do you want us to do?" I responded.
"She's coming today for a little chat with me, and what I want the two of you to do is give her a tour of the school grounds. The poor thing's had a rough time as Winslow, so I want to make sure she feels welcome and safe attending here. And what better people to welcome her than two heroes, right?"
I've been to Winslow a couple of times, but those were during my patrols. It was the most notorious school in the city for a reason, since it was located in the poorest part of town and therefore was rife with gang members, from the teenage skinheads of the Empire to the washed up drug addicts of the Merchants.
"I'll do it." I answered, and surprisingly Amy nodded alongside.
"Wonderful! The interview will probably wrap up during your second period, a bit after ten o'clock, and your teachers will notify you when it's done."
And then without saying another word, Mrs. Graham briskly walked off towards the reception. She didn't even thank us, I noted.
"Are you sure you're up for doing something like that, Amy?" I asked, turning to face her.
"Winslow's a shithole, isn't it?" She mumbled.
"Yeah, basically. Not enough funding, full of gang members, overworked staff, that sort of stuff."
"I'm tried as fuck, but I can handle a quick tour. Besides, you can handle most of the talking while I can hang around."
"Cool. I trust that you know what you can handle."
She huffed and rolled her eyes, "You don't need to baby me, Vicky."
We walked together, until we reached the cafeteria, now slowly emptying with students heading to their first class. The library was located at the top and at the end of the building, while my History class was on the second floor.
"I'll see you in an hour or so?" I said.
"Probably. If I'm not comatose by then." She joked weakly, and yawned again, heading towards the stairs that led to the upper floors. As I walked to my own class, I got my phone out of my bag.
Vicvicvic: I'm not going to be able to hang out for half of our lit class 
Deanamino's: (( why not??
Vicvicvic: transfer from winslow, graham asked amy and I to give her a tour. had a major bullying problem there.
Deanamino's: huh. new timeline stuff?
Vicvicvic: not sure. hard to remember things from four years ago. you try to remember what you did specifically when you were 14
Deanamino's: ahaha true. forteen year old dean was a little baby
Vicvicvic: implying that you arnt now
Deanamino's: hey cmon
Deanamino's: anyway, the transfer makes sense. winslows pretty awful. hope the kid has a better time here
Vicvicvic: yeah, yknow those girls i did some photo shoots with that i complained to you about? they go to winslow i think
Deanamino's: i remember. uhhh, madison and emma were their names right. they were hanging with shadow stalker
Those names. I recognised those names, as I remembered something I completely forgot about. Sometime after Gold Morning, when the PHO came back online, I had a conversation with Madison, who was one of the girls who bullied Taylor before she became Skitter. She admitted to me that she spat in her face, put her school bag in the toilet. Pushed her over the edge. Caused her trigger event, most likely.
I can't believe I only remembered that until now.
Vicvicvic: aaaaah i just remembered something important
Deanamino's: future stuff?
Vicvicvic: yeah but ill tell you later class is starting
I felt another piece of the puzzle fall into place.
I reread the same line again, my mind too preoccupied with more important things.
"Hello, Earth to Victoria?"
I looked up from my copy of Moby Dick to Dean, who was sitting across from me.
"Ah, there she is. What's happened to you that you have your head in the clouds?" He said playfully, his own copy laying flat on the table with a bookmark poking out from it.
I looked around the classroom, seeing that the other students were reading the novel they'd chosen or quietly chatting to their friends.
I leaned closer to him and whispered, "You remember those girls from the photo shoot we did together last year, right?"
He nodded, and whispered back, "You called them bitches for making fun of the girl with the back brace."
"I ended up talking to one of them after GM. She admitted that they bullied Taylor, to the point of hospitalising her."
"And her trigger event, too?"
"Probably. But I have a hunch about who this new transfer student is."
His eyes went wide as he realised what I was implying, and leaned forwards, "You're sure? But how…"
"I don't know how she got transferred, if it's her. Maybe Te-tee did something in the background."
Before Dean could reply, I saw that Miss Roberts was beckoning me. She was in her late twenties, young enough to find rapport with her students, but not old enough that it was weird. I slipped my phone into my pocket and left my bag with him; he could look after it for me.
"The principal has just asked for you to go to her office. I aren't in trouble for anything, I hope?" She said jokingly, smiling sweetly at me.
"Nah, not this time. There's a new student that I'm giving a tour of the school to."
She chuckled quietly at that, trying not to disturb the students who were reading.
"Off you go then. Make sure you give them a good impression, then."
I nodded to her and exited the room, heading towards the reception with my mind buzzing with questions. I could be wrong and it could be some random student, but my gut feeling, my
instincts, were telling me otherwise.
A small part of me rejoiced at the idea that there was someone else like me, someone who was from the future and was now here in the past. As much as I love Dean, he couldn't truly understand everything that happened to me just from what I've told him.
For better or for worse, Taylor is the only person that could since she was there, right at the moment that Crawler's acid hit me.
When I got to the reception, Amy was already there, sitting down on one of those weird chairs that looked like they belonged in a mall or a museum. She looked a lot more awake, smiling as she saw me.
"You look excited." She mentioned.
"Maybe. We don't get to do this sort of thing often." I replied, sitting down on the couch opposite her.
"God help me if she's a cape geek, or else you aren't going to stop talking for a week."
"Hey, I'm not that bad."
She hummed, "Yes, you are. You're attending university classes on Parahumans when you're still in high school, so any argument against that is rendered
null. So, in conclusion: you're a massive nerd, Vicky."
I was going to defend myself with a
no, I just have a healthy interest in capes and powers when the receptionist spoke up.
"Mrs. Graham is ready to see you two. Her office is just down the hall."
I got up, deliberately ignoring Amy's very smug look, and headed down the hall, which was a stretch to call it a hall since there were only four offices, the first one on the left had a plaque with 'Samantha Graham' written on it. I opened the door, letting Amy in first, and closed it behind me as I entered.
I turned around and saw Taylor Hebert sitting down, next to a man who I assumed was her father.
She was wearing a baggy pair of jeans and an equally baggy grey hoodie, the sneakers she was wearing were dirty and well-worn and her black, curly hair looked well looked after from how it reflected the fluorescent lights. I'd almost say she had a mousy look to her, but she was too thin and lanky for that. Her brown eyes stared at me through her round spectacles, and I was reminded of an owl, like the ones Aiden took care of. Not the ones that glared when they were going in for the kill, but the ones that looked like they were on the verge of freaking out.
The man next to her was wearing a bulky, yellow hi-vis jacket. He was balding, and the small amount of hair he had left was the same raven black as his daughter. He also had bright green eyes, a contrast to Taylor's brown. Even sitting down, I could see that the man was tall, taller than my father but shorter than Uncle Neil, probably.
The oddest thing was that Taylor didn't have that air of dangerous confidence to her. Slightly slouching, her arms crossed together made me think she was trying to curl into herself. If I didn't know any better she looked more like a librarian or a teacher than a villain.
Was she acting, or was it somehow genuine? I couldn't tell.
"Good, you're both here. Now this is the girl I talked about with you earlier Victoria, so I make sure you both give her a warm welcome to Arcadia, alright?" Mrs. Graham said to me, and then looked back at Taylor, who blankly stared back. I saw the principal's smile fall by a fraction.
I wondered just how much she was processing, right at this moment. Her file that I managed to scavenge together said her range was one thousand, eight hundred feet, so just how many insects were under her control? Hundreds of thousands?
Millions?
"Well, looks like everything's finished here," Her father stated, who got up from his chair, "I'll see you at home, ok?"
"Yeah, I'll see you later, Dad." Taylor replied with genuine affection in her voice, completely different to how I thought she'd sound like, at ends with the video of New Deli and when she was outed.
I opened the door for him, and gave me a brief nod in thanks as he left. I kept it open and gestured for the other two to follow me. Amy playfully rolled her eyes at me and walked out, Taylor following behind her.
"Oh yeah, I didn't catch your name." I asked, closing the door and walking alongside her, "Mrs. Graham only mentioned a new transfer that was having problems as Winslow."
"Taylor Hebert."
"Taylor Herbert?" Amy asked, walking to Taylor's right.
As she corrected Amy on the proper pronunciation, I pulled out my phone, angling it so Taylor couldn't see it.
Vicvicvic: ha, i was right. You owe me a twenty
Deanamino's: i didnt make you a bet though. also twenty dollars is like, an entire meal
Deanamino's: wait i have an idea. i can conceive the teach if i could go to the library, but instead i can try and see what she's feeling
Deanamino's: might help us answer some questions
Vicvicvic: dean i love you your a genius
Deanamino's:
"Amy, please be nicer to the new girl," I said, putting my phone into my pocket and faking a grimace at Amy, "Sorry about her, she's still a little cranky from last Sunday. Or early Monday morning, technically."
I needed to get more information, and I was willing to embarrass Amy further to do it.
"What happened on Sunday?" Taylor asked, face completely neutral, despite the fact she was lying.
Which begged the question: why lie like that? Lung's capture at the hands of Khepri was still cycling through the local media, so even to normal people it was pretty big news.
Unless she was trying to act like she doesn't care about anything related to capes?
Hm.
"You don't know? It was like, all over the news!" Amy asked aggressively, trying to cover up her initial embarrassment. Taylor raised her hands up, eyes growing wide.
"Amy, relax, Taylor's probably not interested in cape stuff." I mentioned, going off my hunch, "Anyway, long story short, some new cape managed to take down Lung to the point of
nearly killing him, requiring me to fly her to the PRT building to heal him."
"Lung is…the leader of the Azn Bad Boys? The one that can turn into a dragon?" She asked, eyes looking upwards and holding her chin in her fingers.
So it seemed like my hunch was right. Taylor is acting like she doesn't know anything about capes, deliberately.
"Yup, that's him. The cape in question…" I continued, looking at Taylor as I did, "...
Khepri, I think their name was. They're a master, able to control insects, and were somehow able to inject enough venom into him to kill several normal people, and was able to take him down because of it. Despite the logic that fire beats bug, too."
Taylor was completely uninterested, even bored, at what I said. Not even a twitch of an eyelid, or a slight curve of the mouth, or even looking away.
Hm.
"Fuckin' dumbass made me get up at two in the morning on a
school night to save fuckin' Lung, of all people." Amy mumbled.
Time to change tactics, then.
"Anyhoo, what classes did you pick, Taylor? You might even get a class with me or Amy." I asked.
"Uh, Classic Lit, Second Tier Mathematics, Animal Biology, Intro to Art and Intro to Fashion. But I don't know about which times and what teachers yet. Mrs. Graham said I'll get my timesheet when I start on Monday."
Classic Literature and Mathematics made sense; those were compulsory subjects. Art and Fashion made sense because she could make things out of spider silk, like her costume. But did she pick Animal Biology because her power gave her so much information about the insects she controlled, and therefore have an easier time with the class?
No, that didn't make any sense, because why would she care about
grades. She's probably joined the Undersiders again, which marks her as a villain, so why would a villain care about high school grades?
Or maybe I should stop overthinking about it.
"Huh, interesting. You might get Art with Amy, and Classic Lit with me. Anyway, this is the south building, known as the South Block, the classes here are the Science classes on the first floor, and the rest has the English, Humanities, and Maths classes. Most of them that aren't the Science classes get shuffled around every year, since you only need a desk for those classes." I explained, walking towards the main hallway of the South Block, "and, if you follow me, I can show you where the cafeteria and gym is."
Taylor jogged a little to catch up to me, settling to my left, and Amy to hers.
It was obvious by now that Taylor didn't suspect me of also being from the future, so that meant she was interacting with me under the assumption that I was the seventeen version of myself.
Which led to another question: why did she transfer to Arcadia, anyway? She could've dropped out and taken online classes, or the G.E.D, so why attend a different school?
"So what's that thing on your shirt, Amy?" Taylor asked, breaking the silence.
Amy briefly looked surprised, and then uncomfortable, the same way whenever anyone who wasn't me tried talking to her.
She was an introvert, if I remembered the term correctly.
"Just. Some random thing I found while browsing the internet, I said. It's called MetalFace, and, uh, they're heavy metal, so you probably won't like it."
Actually, that was a shirt Dad owned that shrunk in the wash, so he gave it to Amy because it didn't fit anyone else.
"I'm not really into music, but I'll try them out at some point. What else are you interested in, Amy?" Taylor asked again, ignoring Amy's discomfort at talking about herself.
"Uh, books. Reading, mostly fictional stuff, or amateur stuff that people make online."
"I was originally into reading, because my mum was an English university professor, but I fell out of it because of the stuff at Winslow. I'd be open to looking at anything you'd recommend."
'Was' an English Professor, I thought.
Which meant that she was retired, or passed away, most likely.
"Uh, sure? Maybe later though." Amy said, looking at least a little interested.
I couldn't help but smile a little at that. Usually I'd had to prod at her to socialise with anyone, and if she did it was only to satisfy me and not herself. But here she was, admitting to wanting to hang out with someone on her own accord.
Wait. Of course, that's why!
Taylor transferred here specifically to
befriend Amy, and possibly me? So she's acting like she doesn't care about capes so Amy doesn't get suspicious of her wanting to be friends with her, because of her healing.
"Anyway, here we are at the cafeteria," I announced as we entered, "It's essentially you're typical high school cafe-"
I turned to face Taylor, who was looking off into the distance with a thousand yard stare, and Amy gave a worried glance. She must be remembering the moment she got outed, and despite that I was a public cape and had no secret identity, I could empathise with her. It was extremely shitty of the PRT, or Director Tagg, or whoever ordered Defiant and Dragon to out her here, especially the latter since Dragon didn't have a choice.
"Hey, you all good, Taylor?" I said, quietly.
This was enough to knock her out of it, as she startled a bit and blinked rapidly, then spoke, "Ah, sorry. Just lost in thought. What were you saying, Victoria?"
"Nothing much, honestly. It's just a typical high school cafeteria. I'm assuming it'll be a lot better than whatever they served at Winslow, right?"
"Also since they serve actual food here, you have to pay for it, but it's only like, ten bucks for a full meal, plus drink." Amy added.
Taylor looked off into the distance again, eyebrows ever so slightly burrowed in thought.
Now that I've talked to her a bit, I could see that her face wasn't completely blank, but more like she shows emotions in very tiny expressions. A problem caused by her power potentially, or maybe she's more expressive with people she trusts, like the Undersiders?
I could tell that she definitely wasn't acting.
"...My dad works for the Dockworkers Association. We don't have that kind of money." Taylor said, looking at Amy.
Oh. That explains why she went to Winslow, I suppose. I remember Carol telling me what Brockton was like before they shut down the Docks, partly because of Leviathan's emergence, but mostly from a general economic decline as the world slowly settled down.
"Well, in case you don't have any money and need to eat, you can ask me. I'd be happy to shout you a meal or two." I stated.
I understood what Taylor was doing here; she was trying to be
Taylor Hebert and not Skitter, Weaver or Khepri.
"Why?" She asked, seemingly caught off guard.
"Because you had a rough time at Winslow, and I definitely don't want that to happen to you again at Arcadia."
She looked at me suspiciously, and shook her head slightly. I began heading outside, towards the track field and gym, gesturing for her to follow.
"So, what kinda stuff are you interested in, Taylor?" Amy asked, continuing their little chat from earlier, and a small part of me felt proud that she was socialising on her own volition, and then the familiar creeping uneasiness smothered that pride in its crib.
I still had no idea how to feel about this
version of Amy. The Red Queen can still go fuck herself, though.
"Uh, not much, I wasn't able to explore anything with what happened at Winslow, but I'm open to trying stuff now, since I'm no longer there." She replied, scratching her right arm, and there was a faint glow to her cheeks.
Was she genuinely embarrassed here? Did she say that because that's what 2011 Taylor Hebert would say, or was she genuinely didn't have any hobbies?
"Well, good thing we met then, since we can help you," I said, activating my forcefield and patted Amy on her back, "Right, Amy? You can recommend some bands or authors you like, for instance."
Amy shot me a confused look, so I bent down a little and whispered to her, "
Go along with it. She's a bullying victim who's looking for new friends."
"Yeah. Sure. We can go look at some bookstores or something." Amy said, embarrassed to hell and back.
"I'd love to, Amy." Taylor responded, completely earnestly, lips curved into a small smile, and then turned to me, "What things are you into, Victoria?"
"Oh, I'm a huge cape geek, especially when it comes to powers. How they work, how they interact, that sort of thing."
"I'm not into the hero and power stuff." Taylor admitted, shrugging, "Never really interested me. I had an Alexandria poster when I was a kid, but that was only because everyone else was into it."
I nodded at her. I wondered if this was an in-joke meant to be understood only by herself, or if she was telling the truth, which would make what eventually happened ironic.
"Is that why you're acting so… normal, I guess?" Amy questioned, "Because when people interact with us, well, more Vicky than I, they get really starstruck. Like, 'oh, it's Glory Girl, can I have your autograph or take a photo with you'."
"A lot of people do that to you too, Amy." I reminded her. Although she wasn't as popular as I was, she still had her own fans. But they could've been people who were healed by her rather than typical fans.
"Yeah, but what I do isn't flashy or heroic or even
interesting, and it's always just people thanking me for healing them, or people acting 'starstruck' in order to ask me to heal them or something."
Taylor was looking off to the side, head tilted slightly.
"Maybe because what you do feels less like being a hero and more like a day job, I think?" She added, gesturing at Amy as she continued, "Like, going out and beating up villains
feels heroic, but simply touching someone's hand and curing every physical problem they have sounds a lot more boring, mundane?"
Amy looked at her with an expression I haven't ever seen on her, including the Red Queen. Eyes wide, jaw slightly ajar; she looked like someone understood her, in some way that I couldn't.
"Yeah, it's like that."
Taylor turned to me and spoke, "Anyway, to answer your earlier question, I think it's just that most people forgot that heroes are people, too. Like, even someone like Alexandria or Eidolon are still human at the end of the day, right?"
"That makes sense, yeah. People make mistakes, or do dumb things, regardless of how powerful they are." I added.
Perhaps she was talking from her own experiences. I wasn't naive to believe that the greatest heroes are perfect or without flaws.
"So I'm not interested in talking to Panacea or Glory Girl, other people can geek out over them, but I am interested in talking to Amy and Victoria Dallon." Taylor finished.
She said Amy's name first. I noticed.
People usually say my name first, so was that deliberate on her part?
"That's a good mindset, honestly. Anyway, here we are: the gym and the track field. The gym is self-explanatory: it's used for a variety of stuff, like rock climbing, basketball, and for anything during winter when it gets too cold. The track is obviously used for races, and the inside field is used for either football or soccer." I gestured.
I always felt a little uncomfortable being around here, since my brain connects
sports to
basketball to
that specific game.
"Do you do any sports, Taylor? Vicky here used to play basketball, but, uh, dropped it for personal reasons." Amy asked, and for the first time since waking up in the past I felt the overwhelming need to yell at her.
Taylor, thankfully, avoided asking about my 'personal reasons', "I do run in the morning, but that's only because it's for exercise, not anything sport related. Besides, I'll only be here for a couple of days rather than for five."
"Wait, why are you here for a couple of days?"
"It's, uh, because I'm not ready to go back to five days, with everything that happened at Winslow, so I'm doing them online. Besides, I want to look into the options that I have, and I think that being here full-time would ruin that."
Aha. I was wondering how she was going to solve that issue, I thought.
Because it's probably hard to be a villain when you're a full time student, I suppose.
"Eh, fair enough. I don't have much of a choice when I finish high school." Amy said, dejectedly.
Time for another little push.
"Y'know, I don't think that's true Amy. Once you turn eighteen, they can't force you to be a hero or go heal at hospitals." I added.
She looked at me with a confused expression, glanced at Taylor for a second, and then looked away.
"Anyway, here's the North Block," I explained, turning around to face the building, "the first floor contains all of the vocational classes, wood tech, metal tech, construction, home ec, that sort of stuff. On the other side is the auditorium, where anything that's got to do with theatre or acting is. The other floors contain classes for computer sciences, engineering, et cetera."
I turned to Taylor, who was looking behind her at the library. Following her gaze, I realised she was staring at Dean, who waved at us. He must've been looking at us since we left the South Block, which meant his plan worked. Dean pointed downwards, then got up from his seat and left.
"Ah, that's Dean. He's a close friend of mine." I explained, glancing to see Taylor's expression. Dean's name was written on Brockton's memorial after Leviathan, so it wasn't out of the question that she knew he was Gallant, but I couldn't tell for sure.
"Aren't you two dating?" Amy said, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Uh, we're both decided to take a break from that."
"I swear to god, if he did any-" Amy spat out.
"No, no, god no, Amy!" I yelled back, and took a couple of breaths to calm myself, "He didn't cheat on me or anything, we just mutually decided to take a break because we're both busy with other things, with me going to university and Dean helping with his father's company."
I turned back to Taylor, who had taken a single step backwards. I needed to wrap this up soon, both because I needed to talk to Dean and my patience with Amy had worn thin.
"Anyway, I think we should finish this here since the next period is starting soon," I continued, "So, before you head off Taylor, give me you phone so I can add me and Amy's phone numbers-"
"Vicky! You can't just do that-"
"Yeah, I will because you need friends who aren't me, and Taylor seems cool. Alright?" I stated, bluntly.
Amy slid her phone out of her pocket and handed it to me, covering her face with her hand, and groaned out.
"Vicky, it's not because of that, it's because you're embarrassing me."
"I'm your sister, I'm meant to be embarrassing."
Taylor continued to look at us blankly, with a ghost of a smile on her lips, and handed me her phone. A middle range model, not too expensive but not too cheap, and when I opened her contacts list it was completely blank, not even an entry for her father. As I was adding our numbers, Amy looked over my shoulder and hummed.
"Huh. You have like, no one registered on your phone. Not even your parents. What gives?"
Taylor glared at her and spoke, "Because I don't have any friends, and also because my dad doesn't have a mobile phone of his own."
"...Oh, right, shit. Uh, my bad?" Amy said, smiling apologetically, as she rubbed the back of her head.
At least she was trying. Usually she wouldn't have apologised in the first place.
"You
used to not have any friends, because now you have me and Amy!" I said, handing her phone back to her. "Well, that seems to be everything, so do you need to be shown how to get back to the foyer?"
I know she probably didn't help with directions considering how she could see and hear through every insect within a several block radius of her, but I needed to keep up my own act.
I was certain that she didn't suspect me of being from the future like she was.
"No, I'm good. I'll see you two at some point next week, though?" She stated.
"Yeah! Of course! But Amy and I really need to get back to class, so see you 'round Taylor!" I replied, jogging off towards the South Block, leaving the two behind.
Dean was sitting alone at one of the cafeteria's tables, and he gave me a lopsided grin when he saw me. I sat next to him, glancing around the room to make sure no one could overhear us.
"Alright, what did you see?" I whispered, leaning closer to him, and he flipped through a little notepad.
"I first saw you three when you walked outside. Emotions are always a tricky thing to understand, because it's easy for me to misinterpret them, so take what I say with that grain of salt: Taylor was
mostly genuine with what I can assume, her goal of befriending you and Amy."
"Yeah, we ended up exchanging numbers, but what do you mean by
'mostly'?"
"Because people don't feel a single emotion most of the time, usually it's a combination of several. A little bit of excitement, happiness and amusement, but also confusion and several flashes of regret. She started feeling suspicious a few moments before she physically looked at me, which meant she must've seen me through her insects."
"Good to know that she wasn't faking it then."
He hummed, and leaned in closer to me.
"I saw you get really,
really angry for a second, what was that about?"
"When I mentioned that you and I were taking a break, Amy's first assumption was that you cheated on me." I spoke through gritted teeth, "I can handle some of her bullshit, but saying that you cheated on me was crossing
a fucking line."
".....Ah. I just-" He cut himself off, and then let out a sigh, eyes downcast, "I just wished she didn't hate me."
"Her hate isn't personal, though. She would've hated anyone I dated, because I know what she feels about me."
"I know, I know." He shook his head, "Anyway, do you think we have to change anything we do tomorrow, now that you've talked to Taylor?"
I leaned my head on his shoulder, and closed my eyes.
"...No, I don't think so. I'm certain she and Tee-tee have their own plans."
It was a blind roll of the die. I had no idea what they were going to do, or how Coil would factor into it.
But I had to trust her.
I had no other choice.
