2

Chapter 2

I, Panacea

Part Two: Getting Along

[Author's Note: the character Michael Allen is the same character who features in Security! This story is a sequel of sorts to that one; the action of Security! is resolved before I, Panacea starts.

Yes, he's getting sick and tired of this.]

Amy blinked her way awake. There was a thumping on her door.

"Ames!" she heard Vicky calling. "Phone call!"

She pushed herself to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Coming," she replied.

She was on her feet before she realised what was going on. I'm in control again! Oh, thank god! She paused. Was that just a hallucination or something? Did I imagine it?

Nope. Afraid not.

She stumbled in mid-step, would have fallen if her arm hadn't shot out and grabbed the door frame.

Careful there, kiddo.

As quickly as she had lost control of her limb, she regained it; she could almost literally feel the outside force retreating, leaving her in command of her body once more.

Oh god, it wasn't a dream. It was real. She started to hyperventilate.

Yeah, look, sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. Please calm down. Freaking out isn't going to do anyone any good.

Her fear, her apprehension came to the fore. Calm down? CALM DOWN? Are you the one with the strange voice stuck in your head? Are you the one who keeps having their body taken over by an outside force?

No," he told her flatly, I'm the one stuck in a strange body with no way to go home. So yeah, I'm freaking just a bit too. There was a pause; she imagined him taking a deep breath. So can we both please take a step back and think about what we're going to say next?

He was so obviously trying to be reasonable that she did calm down, just a bit. So why are you here? In my head?

I can't be sure, but I have the distinct idea that I'm supposed to save the world.

You said that before. Save the world? From what?

I … can we go into that later, when we have more time? Your sister said something about a phone call.

Oh. Right.

It'll be the Wards.

How do you know that?

Because they got fairly beaten about, fighting the Undersiders. Especially Aegis. And because you went to see them the last time.

The last time what?

The last time you did this. He paused. Well, not the last time last time. That time, no-one got hurt. Let's say the 'first' time. Another pause. Look, can you just answer the phone? Please?

Why don't you answer it? You didn't have any problem with acting for me before.

Because now we have a choice, and I'd rather not. I want you in control of your body.

She blinked. What?

Amy, we're going to need to be partners here. Work together. And for that to work, we're going to need to agree to boundaries. I think "no taking over your partner's body without her express permission" is a good start, don't you?

Somewhat taken aback, she nodded. I … I guess.

"Ames?" came Vicky's voice from outside the door. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she called back. "Just … thinking about something." She took hold of the door handle, opened the door. Her body worked smoothly, with easy coordination. There was no outside control going on.

Vicky was standing there, holding the cordless phone, her face still swollen and welted. She handed it over to Amy. "It's the PRT, calling about the Wards."

You were right.

A mental impression of a shrug. Educated guess.

Numbly, Amy took the phone. "Hello?"

It was Deputy Director Renick on the other end; Amy had spoken with him before. As the voice in her head had predicted, he was asking for her to come in and heal the Wards of their most grievous wounds.

Which reminded her; Vicky still bore the marks of the bugs that had apparently swarmed her after Amy had been knocked out.

You might want to heal her at some point too.

I'm not sure if I can trust you with my powers. In her head was a mental image of herself, under the compulsion of the voice within her head, using her powers willy-nilly. Hurting people. Killing people.

To be honest, I don't think I can use your powers. They're hooked into you, not me.

Really?

Yeah, really.

So why were you so anxious to know how to use them, earlier?

His voice was patient. Because I wasn't sure if you were ever going to regain control of your body.

Oh.

In her ear, Renick seemed to be waiting for a response.

She made a snap decision. "Uh, yeah. I'll be there." Hanging up the call, she handed the phone back to her sister. Touching Vicky's hand, she felt her power kicking in, reading her sister's body, telling Amy exactly what was wrong with it.

It took only the slightest exertion of her power to reverse the effects of the bites, to cause Vicky's body to metabolise the toxins, to smooth out the welts, to take away the irritation.

Wow.

What?

That was … awesome. Sheer poetry.

You were watching?

Unless I choose not to, I see everything you do.

Vicky raised her hand to her face. "Thanks, Ames. You're obviously feeling better?" Her voice was low, her eyes dull.

Amy smiled at her. "I'm feeling much more myself, yeah."

"So you're needed at the PRT building then, huh?"

Amy nodded. "Yeah. We need to help out the Wards. Give me a lift?"

Vicky shook her head. "Uh … rain check? Whatever Tattletale did to me really knocked the stuffing out of me. I just want to curl up under my quilt and not come out for a week." She did her best to muster a smile. "Get Dad to drive you?"

Amy nodded and headed back into her room. Closing the door, she leaned against it, breathing heavily.

What's up?

I hate lying to my sister.

You weren't lying. You just weren't telling her everything.

Which is still lying.

His voice was patient. Amy. You do that every day anyway. Remember?

Don't remind me. Anyway, you're saying that you can experience everything I do?

Unless I concentrate on something else, yeah.

That could get really creepy, really fast.

Uh yeah, I think I already pointed that out. Which is why I want for us to come to some sort of a partnership understanding sooner rather than later.

Well, it's going to be a one-sided partnership. You seem to have all the leverage. Her inner voice was bitter. After all, you can take over my body any time you like.

Not by choice! It was almost a shout. After a moment, she felt him relaxing. Sorry. Not by choice. And anyway, you have access to your powers and I don't.

She was shocked. You tried to use them?

Nope. I watched you use them. And I still have no idea how that works.

Oh. Right.

She opened her closet and pulled out the robes she habitually wore as Panacea, and laid them out on the bed. Then she went to pull her t-shirt off -

Whoa! Wait! What are you doing?

I need a shower. So I'm going to take one.

Oh god, okay. Let me get ready. Right, okay.

She could hear him humming to himself as she took her clothes off and wrapped herself in the towel.

"Just going for a shower!" she called to Vicky as she stepped out of her room.

"Already there!" was the reply, from the bathroom.

The humming in the back of her head intensified as she entered the bathroom; Vicky was already in the shower, the water running. Deliberately, she kept her eyes away from the shower cubicle.

"Can you make it quick?" she asked her sister.

"I was just about done. Wanted to feel clean again after those bug bites."

True to her word, Vicky turned the shower off and stepped from the cubicle, reaching for her towel. Involuntarily, Amy found her eyes wandering toward her sister's body -

LALALALALALALALALALA!

Startled, Amy jumped, then jerked her eyes away from Vicky.

Will you stop doing that? That's very distracting!

It's MEANT to be! Stop looking at her!

Rather than argue the point, Amy pulled off her towel, trying to ignore the "lalalalalalala" that had emerged in the back of her head once more, and stepped into the shower cubicle. She turned on the shower, but when she went to nudge the lever toward 'hot', her hand moved of its own accord and it went toward 'cold' instead. A freezing spray of water hit her, and she gasped.

What the hell are you doing?

His voice was terse. Cold shower. Do you the world of good.

What – is this because I looked at Vicky?

Yes. Now get clean. We've got some Wards to go heal.

At least let me use the hot water.

A sigh. Fine. Okay. Just get it over and done with.

Gritting her teeth, Amy nudged the lever back over to 'hot', and felt the water temperature become something more comfortable than 'arctic'. Then she started to wash herself.

Lalalalalalalala …

Will you stop doing that?

When you stop running your hands over yourself. Lalalalala …

That's very irritating.

He didn't answer, unless she counted "lalalalalalala ..." as an answer.

=/=

By the time she was dressing, he was reciting poetry in her head. She had to admit, it was an improvement on "lalalalala", but she was puzzled and intrigued by some of the verses.

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black

Resounded to the thunder of their tread ...

Okay, I'm dressed.

He stopped reciting. Oh, good.

That was an interesting poem.

Uh, I memorised it once upon a time. It was a way to pass the time.

I think I like it. I'd like to hear the whole thing sometime.

Sure thing. When we get a chance. But right now, we need to discuss matters.

What matters?

Improving your situation, for one. And saving the world, for two.

Improving my situation?

Yeah. Right now, your home life? Toxic as all hell. You have to change things, or it's going to go downhill fast.

How am I going to do that? And why will it go downhill? And why do you say my home life is toxic?

"Amy girl?" called Mark Dallon from outside her room. "Are you ready to go?"

"Nearly," Amy replied, adjusting her hood. "Okay, ready."

She opened the door and joined her foster father. They walked downstairs together.

Well, are you going to give me a straight answer?

Sure, but first I need to talk to you about the Undersiders.

What about the Undersiders?

About how they're not as bad as you think. In fact, I think you need to reach out to them. They could help you, and you could help them.

She stopped dead, halfway down the stairs. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Mark went a few more steps, then turned to stare at her. "Amy? Something the matter?"

She mustered a smile. "No, I, uh, just remembered something. Let's go." She started down the steps again.

Seriously, you have to be kidding.

Not a word of it.

Wait a minute. She paused, remembering. The Undersiders have that guy, Regent. He can control minds. You're Regent, aren't you? Fucking with my head?

And nope again. Regent can't control minds, only bodies. Also, he needs to spend about a day working on someone before he can gain full control of them. And he can't talk to them mentally.

The shadow guy, Grue, then.

Creates darkness. Doesn't do control.

The bug girl.

She controls bugs, not people. And by the time you get to the PRT HQ, the Wards will have chosen the name 'Skitter' for her.

What – how do you know that?

A sigh. Because I've been through this all before. And before you ask, Bitch makes dogs grow, and she understands them really well, and Tattletale is super intuitive. That's it. Oh, and you might want to get in the car.

She looked around; she was standing by the car, and her father was holding the door open for her. "Ready to go, Amy girl?"

"Sure." She climbed into the car, and in moments they were on the road. The delay gave her time to think, and she went on the attack.

How do I know you aren't lying to me?

You don't. That's what trust is about, I guess.

I don't have much of a basis to trust you on, you know.

I know. Which is a real problem. Because there are things happening, bad things, and we only have a narrow window of opportunity to get on top of them, and I'd really rather be on the same page as you before we start.

His words sent a chill down her spine.

Bad things?

Really bad things.

Like what?

Like a twelve year old girl being kidnapped and forced to use her powers to make a supervillain even more powerful.

Okay, now that just sounds like the plot to a bad movie. How can he force her to use her powers, without her using them on him?

She's a precog, a powerful one. Right now, right this very second, he's forcibly addicting her to the drugs which he will use to control her.

She felt sick at the idea, but continued to argue. So where's this happening?

Right here in Brockton Bay.

I don't believe you. If there was a precog that strong, I've never heard of her. And definitely not one that's only twelve.

She only triggered very recently.

So how come she didn't see him coming and take steps?

Because he's a precog too, of a different type. And he made sure she knew that whatever she tried, he would kill people dear to her.

She paused. Oh. Okay, do these people have names, or is this all just hypothetical?

Yes. The supervillain is called Coil. And the girl's name is Dinah Alcott. She's the mayor's niece.

She rolled her eyes. Really. The mayor's niece. Sounds more and more like a bad movie all the time.

He sounded just like he was gritting his teeth. You have heard of Coil, right?

Sure. But he's just a bit player. A low tier operator. And you're saying he's a precog?

He's a lot more powerful than he lets on. He specialises in working from the shadows. The bank robbery? He was behind it. He's got several supervillain gangs on his payroll.

I'm really not sure that I believe you. Especially since I haven't heard of any such kidnapping.

He sighed. Why do you think the bank robbery went off in broad daylight? It was intended to draw everyone's attention. Several other big flashy crimes would have happened around the same time. All to act as distractions, so his men could grab Dinah.

She's that important to him?

In a nutshell - yes. He would cheerfully shoot any of his men - or his super-powered minions - in the head, to ensure that he keeps hold of her.

All this could just be a fabrication. You could be lying through your metaphorical teeth. But she was starting to wonder.

It's easy to prove or disprove. Get on to the mayor, ask where his niece Dinah is. If he can locate her, or if he doesn't have a niece, then I'm lying. If she's missing, then ... yeah.

She paused. He was right. His challenge was simple, direct, and to the point.

What if he's not lying?

Still right here, you know.

Go away. Let me think.

Love to. Let me know how it goes.

His presence seemed to dwindle, but not disappear. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, but that could simply have been his background thoughts.

She looked over at Mark as he hit the indicator to change lanes. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You know the mayor fairly well, right?"

He smiled slightly. "Met him a time or two. So you could say that, yeah."

"Does he have a niece by the name of Dinah?"

He blinked. "That's kind of out of the blue. But yes … I think he might, actually. His wife's sister's girl."

"Huh," she replied. "So, how old would she be?"

He frowned. "Twelve or thirteen, I think. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she deflected. "Someone was talking, and I got curious."

"Okay," he replied, and turned his attention back to the road.

He has a niece called Dinah. Okay, that still doesn't prove anything.

There was no response. Hey! You still there?

Nope. In Puerto Rico for the holidays. Leave a message after the beep. Beep.

Stop being childish. Okay, so the mayor has a niece of the right age. Still doesn't prove anything.

Not if you don't want it to, no.

What's that supposed to mean?

A sigh. Amy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just … stressed. Very stressed. And so are you. So right now, our chances of reaching any sort of amicable agreement are minimal.

I'm not stressed. I feel fine.

… says the girl to the voice in her head.

His mental tone was so dry, so deadpan, that she giggled mentally. Okay, point taken. I'm feeling a bit stressed myself.

It's what Tattletale said to you, isn't it?

How did you know about that?

He snorted. If I had a dollar for every time … okay, screw it. She was going to tell you exactly who your father was. And it would have messed with you head plenty. But I have the fix.

What?

I'll tell you, right here, right now. Vicky doesn't need to know. Mark and Carol know, of course. But once you know, you can start coming to terms with it. And you don't need to be scared of Tattletale telling everyone.

She felt a surge of apprehension. I – I'm not sure I want to know.

Remember what I told you earlier? We do not grow up to be our parents?

Yeah … but Vicky's kinda like Carol.

And not in the least like Mark. So what if you're like your real mom, and not your dad at all?

I … maybe?

I can guarantee you're not like your dad. I know this for an absolute fact. He was a murderer who kept his minions in absolute fear of him. You have respect for life and the well-being of others. He paused. Amy, I like you, and I want to help you through this.

Like me? You don't even know me!

She felt him smile. That's where you're wrong. I know more about you than you know about yourself.

Such as?

Your real name. The name your mother gave you.

Not my father?

No. She was raising you, but she had cancer, so she passed you on to your father before she died.

I … I didn't know.

When the Brockton Bay Brigade took on your father, he had them beat, but for the fact that he was hiding you in a closet. They saw the way he was trying to lead the fight away from you, so they went to attack the closet. He took the hit, to save you. He was wounded, couldn't fight any more, so he asked them to take care of you. If you'd gone into the foster system, someone would have found out about who you really were. He had enemies. It would not have gone well for you.

So Carol and Mark took me in?

Sarah and Neil would have, but they had Eric and Crystal already, and money troubles on top of that, so Sarah talked Carol into taking you.

But … why did Carol always dislike me?

His tone was gentle. She saw your real father in you. She was wrong, of course, but that's how she saw it. When she was only about thirteen, she and Sarah were kidnapped for ransom, but the kidnappers eventually decided to kill them. That's when they triggered. But before that point, Carol had started talking to the kidnappers, started empathising with them. Stockholm Syndrome. After that, after they tried to kill her, she felt that everyone was out to betray her. So she married a man with chronic depression, because he was safe. Let herself get pregnant with Vicky, because a child of her own body was safe.

And then … I came into her life. Amy's tone was wondering.

Yeah. Child of a supervillain. Not her child, not from a safe parent. She saw you as the epitome of everything that was wrong with the world. But she's mistaken. You're a good person.

I … I don't think so.

He snorted. Better than you think.

No. I'm really not. I … get these feelings, sometimes.

He spoke soothingly, evenly. I know you do.

She flared at him. You don't know anything.

His tone never changed. The kid, with the heart. From Egypt, right? You hated him, because he was going to have a life, and your life was just taken up with healing people, right?

Amy felt her eyes fill with tears. How can you … how can you know this?

Same way I know that you're a good kid. That you've got far too much pressure on you, and you're hurting. You aren't a bad person, and you don't want to be a bad person. But the way things are going, you'll be forced into doing something bad. Because no-one can live the way you are without snapping, sooner or later.

His voice was calm, matter of fact. Not discounting her fears, but simply discussing them. Bringing them out into the open.

But – what can I do?

She felt his smile. See, that's where I come in.

=/=

She was ushered through into a rear office, where she met with the Deputy Director. "Thank you for coming, Panacea," he told her, shaking her hand. "Here's your visitor's badge."

She hung the badge around her neck. "Want to come down, meet the guys, Dad?"

Mark shook his head. "No. I think I'll hang about and talk over old times with Phil here."

"Suit yourself." Amy shook hands with the Deputy Director once more, then let herself out. She was met by two of Brockton Bay's best-known capes.

"Armsmaster," she greeted them. "Miss Militia."

The armoured Tinker had his halberd clamped to his back, of course, and Miss Militia's current weapon of choice appeared to be a heavy machine-gun.

"Panacea," Miss Militia replied. "Thank you for coming in."

"It's the least I could do," she responded. "After all, they saved me."

They rode down in the lift. The voice in her head was mercifully silent; she needed to think about what he had said to her, after she had finally asked him for advice. Miss Militia's weapon reduced itself to a hunting rifle, slung over her shoulder, for the trip down.

Two sub-basements down, they exited into a gleaming stainless steel corridor, and walked its length to a heavy steel door. Miss Militia pressed the large button bearing the image of a domino mask; they waited until its light blinked out, then she leaned forward and let the retinal scanner look over her eye. As she did so, her weapon became a large rocket launcher.

She obviously passed muster, because the heavy interlocks on the metal doors separated, and the doors themselves opened. Armsmaster led the way in, followed by Miss Militia, with Amy bringing up the rear.

As they entered the large room, Gallant stood up. "Armsmaster," he greeted the leader of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay. "Good to see you, sir. Miss Militia, always a pleasure."

"Ever the gentleman," responded Miss Militia graciously. Indicating Amy, she went on. "We brought a guest. She was kind enough to volunteer to come here and patch you guys up."

Volunteer, hah.

Shush, these are my friends. I would have volunteered if you hadn't been in my head, confusing me.

Miss Militia smiled behind her scarf. "Can't send you home with horrible injuries and hundreds of bug bites, can we? That would give away the show."

He sighed. To be fair, I think you're right. But the fact remains that they called on you.

As Miss Militia's weapon changed shape again, from rocket launcher to machine gun to sniper rifle to harpoon gun, Amy stepped forward.

"I wanted to thank you guys for coming to my rescue," she told them. "And for letting Glory Girl come with you."

Inside her head, he chuckled. See the look on Gallant's face, right there? Director Piggot ripped him a brand new one for asking her to come along.

But that's not fair! She would have come along anyway!

So tell me you're surprised.

Well, they did bring her along, and I'm glad.

Why? Because she got hurt, and the Undersiders got away anyway?

No. Because we tried to do the right thing. She couldn't understand why he could not see that.

Gallant had a concerned look on his face. "You two are okay?"

The voice in her head was very dry. Well, apart from hearing voices …

Amy had to stifle a giggle. Shush!

She shook her head. "Tattletale found a way around my sister's invincibility. Glory Girl was bitten pretty badly, which is why I didn't come sooner. I think it hits you harder, psychologically, when you're pretty much invincible but you get hurt anyways. But we're okay now. She's healed but sulking. I- I'm alright. Bump on my head, but I'm okay."

You want to know how Tattletale got her?

Distracted, she blinked. Uh, how?

"Good," Gallant replied, and he sounded like he meant it.

Her field goes down for a brief moment after she takes a big hit. Tattletale shot her, and while her field was down, the bugs swarmed her. She's too overconfident. This is actually probably a good thing.

I was bluffing when I told the bug girl that I'd give her cancer or stuff, but now I think I could really do it. She could have killed my sister.

His voice was firm. Don't go there. Do not go there. You do not know all the details.

I don't need to know -

Just like Carol Dallon didn't need to know all the details to know that you're a danger to society?

His comment cut her off at the knees, quite likely as it was intended to do.

I, uh -

Armsmaster's voice got her attention. He was standing by a couple of whiteboards which had, she saw, the names of the Undersiders atop columns. Inside the columns were facts about each of the teen villains.

"I like this," the armoured hero commented. "But this one… nearly empty." Amy saw that he was tapping the column set up for Tattletale.

Gallant shrugged. "None of us ran into her, and the hostages didn't have anything to say about her."

Miss Militia looked at Amy. "Panacea may be able to help there."

She suddenly found herself the centre of attention. Her mouth went dry. "I- A lot happened."

"Any detail helps," Miss Militia encouraged her.

Right. Okay. Want to stand out now, or fade into the background?

I … I want to help. But Tattletale …

Can't hurt you. And, to be honest, she won't hurt you. Especially if you reach out to her and help her.

I … we're really going to do that?

Yes. We are. If we're going to get Dinah back, then we need the Undersiders on side. And Tattletale is a natural for that.

Why?

Tell you later. But right now, you can look good in front of everyone. If you want.

Amy took a deep breath. Okay. I can do this. Hit me.

I can just take over and talk for you, if you want.

… no, just tell me what to say.

That's my girl. She could feel his approval. It was amazing how good it made her feel.

Okay, repeat after me …

"Before we get into this," she began, "there's something else I was wondering about. Something odd about the bank robbery."

Armsmaster, who had turned back to the whiteboards, returned his gaze to her. Even through the opaque visor, she could tell he was staring.

"What would that be?" asked Miss Militia.

"The timing," Amy informed her. "Middle of the day, busy period. Right when all the Wards were able to slip away and attend." She paused. "Was Shadow Stalker unable to attend, or was she told to stay away?"

Aegis raised a hand. "I, uh, told her to stay away," he rasped. There was something wrong with his chest, Amy saw.

"Do you need healing?" she asked, automatically.

"I'll be fine for the moment," he managed. "Heal the others first."

She nodded. "Okay. Well, given that you all got there well in time to intercept them, that was either a badly-planned heist – and the Undersiders are not known for that – or it was planned."

Nicely done, the voice in her head congratulated her. You've got them on the hook. Three … two … one …

Armsmaster spoke up, his voice hard. "Planned? For what reason?"

Amy shrugged. "Maybe it was a distraction, designed to draw as many capes away from somewhere else as possible." She paused. "Mom and Dad were at a dinner at their country club, and I think a few other capes were there as well. So they were out of the way too."

Miss Militia's voice was thoughtful. "Do we have information on any other crimes around town, at about that time?"

Kid Win was already sitting down at the computer console. "We have a jewellery store robbery. A pileup on the interstate, that apparently was caused by a cape battle. And … a missing kid."

Amy's head came around. "A missing child? Details?"

The teenage Tinker frowned under his visor. "Um … let's see … wandered away from school. Reported seen talking to some strange men. It wouldn't even show up, except that apparently she's related to the mayor."

"Rich parents?" asked Gallant.

Kid Win shook his head. "Uh, nope. Upper middle, is all."

"What's her name?" asked Amy tensely.

"No first name, just an initial. Alcott. D. Alcott."

D. Alcott. Dinah Alcott. The mayor's niece. She's been kidnapped.

"Does that seem significant to you, Panacea?" asked Armsmaster.

Amy opened her mouth to reply, then found herself briefly unable to speak.

He has a lie detector in his helmet. Choose your words carefully.

Able to speak again, she hesitated. "I, uh, think there might be something important about the girl," she hedged. "Something we're not seeing."

"I'll go back over the details," Armsmaster noted. "Good catch there, Panacea."

She nodded, aware of cold sweat trickling down her back. "Thanks. Now, about Tattletale."

What can you tell me about her?

Well, I won't be telling you her secret identity, of course. That's for her to tell you. But for now, this shouldn't set off too many butterflies.

Picking up the marker pen, Amy began writing in a firm hand.

=/=

"Feeling better?" Amy asked, as Clockblocker felt his face.

"Oh god yes," he muttered. "I am going to have nightmares about spiders. Lots and lots of spiders."

"The bug girl, uh, Skitter?" asked Amy sympathetically.

He nodded. "She put bugs in behind my eyeballs. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

She shook her head. "I can't imagine."

"The idea Aegis and I had, to swap costumes? Never again. Never, ever again. I intend to be bug-proof for the rest of my natural life."

She chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. "Take care."

Well, that should be it.

Nope, here comes Gallant. I think he wants a word.

What about?

Us, I imagine.

Oh, shit -

Relax. I got this. Can I take over? I think I know the steps to this dance.

She took a deep breath. O … okay.

Cool nanas. She felt his influence spread through her body. Her heart rate slowed down.

"Panacea," the teenage cape greeted her.

"Gallant," she heard herself say. "How are your ribs? You seem to be holding yourself a little stiffly."

Gallant seemed to be slightly taken aback. "Uh, yeah. One of Hellhound's dogs rammed me, and I think I might have bruised or broken ribs. Can you check for me?"

Amy's head nodded. "Sure. Want to use your room for privacy?"

"Yeah," Gallant told her. "Sure." He led her toward his alcove.

"That's right," Clockblocker called out. "Give your sister's boyfriend special treatment. He get a lollipop for being a brave patient afterward too?"

Amy rolled her eyes, even as Gallant chuckled. "Don't mind him," he advised her.

"I don't," she heard herself say. "He's harmless."

They entered the alcove, and Gallant turned to face her. "Okay," he began. "What's going on with you?"

Amy wanted to panic, but her heart rate never shifted.

"I'm sorry," her voice sounded calm in her ears, "but you're going to be have to be more specific."

"I see emotions," Gallant told her. "All the time. All around everyone. And ever since you got here, your emotions have been all over the place. Jumping back and forth like a lightning storm. Calm one moment, jittery the next. And just now, just as I came up to you, you went from on edge to … calm. Unworried. Why is that?"

Amy felt herself reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Gallant," her voice sounded softly. "Dean. I'm under a lot of stress at the moment, as you can imagine. I'm actually considering taking a break, stepping away from healing, just to recharge my batteries. But you can imagine the hell that I'll catch from all sides if and when I make that announcement, so I'm holding off. Trying to figure out when to say it. Add to that the bank robbery, me getting a hit on the head, and Vicky getting hurt trying to protect me. My thoughts are going a million miles a minute, so if my emotions follow them, I wouldn't be surprised if I look like one of those electric plasma ball globes right now."

Gallant's eyes opened wide. No wider than Amy's would have, if she had been able to do so.

Taking a break from healing? I can't!

It's killing you, kiddo. Killing you inside. And anyway, I didn't say you were doing it, just that you were considering it. Which you should.

"Wow," he muttered. "Damn. I … look, I'm sorry."

Amy felt herself frown. "Why?"

He grimaced. "I know you've got some pretty strong feelings about me. I'm sorry for getting you in here. Maybe this was a mistake."

Oh god oh god oh god.

Relax. He's gotten the targets mixed up. He thinks the jealousy is aimed at Vicky, and the attraction at him.

I don't think so. He's pretty good at what he does.

Okay, one second.

You're not going to ask -

Too late; she heard herself speak in a curious tone. "Uh ... strong feelings?"

He ducked his head. "I'm not an idiot, Amy. I know that you think I'm not right for Vicky. That you resent me for coming between you two. If you ever want to talk about it ..."

Well, fuck.

Oh god … you thought he thought I was attracted to him?

I suspect it's not an uncommon phenomenon.

Amy heard herself speak softly. "It's okay. Maybe sometime I might feel like talking it out, but not right now, okay?"

He smiled. "Any time. My door is always open. When I get a door, that is."

She shrugged lightly. "Just make Vicky happy, okay?"

"Goes without saying." He opened the door and they rejoined the main group.

=/=

In the car, on the way back to the house, Amy fumed silently in her seat.

You seem a little upset.

You had no right.

I have every right to take steps to improve your health. I'm in this body too. And I know about your problems.

You should have at least consulted me!

Like everyone else who's made life decisions for you has consulted you. At least I've got your best interests at heart.

You're just like everyone else, making decisions over my head.

He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, less carefree.

You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry.

She was taken aback. I am? You are?

Yes. Just because I'm doing the right thing doesn't mean I can't talk to you about it first. I apologise, Amy. I won't do that again.

I … I'm sorry, too. For snapping at you.

He chuckled. That's okay. Snap away.

And I'm ready.

Ready?

For you to tell me who my real father is. What my real name is.

She felt him smile. Well, your real name is Amelia Claire Lavere. And your father is the supervillain known as Marquis.

Marquis.

Yup.

She considered that. A day ago, she would have been horrified. If it had come out in the bank, she would have been devastated. But now, with the information she had been given, with time to think about it, it merely came as a mild surprise.

And my name is Amelia Claire Lavere.

That's your name.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

She leaned back in the car seat, letting her eyes slide almost closed. Mark Dallon glanced across at her.

"You're looking happy, Amy girl."

She smiled at him. "I suppose I am, Dad. I suppose I am."

I still have troubles. But at least I know what they