Ablation

Taylor

Our eyes follow a man in a gimp suit with a snake motif riding a bicycle, a PRT van careening past him due to burst tires. The van comes to a stop at a fire hydrant, opening up a ten foot tall geyser.

“You’ll never catch me alive! Men, take me away!” The man cackles, as a white van with no license plates stops beside him. Masked mercenaries in professional uniforms yank him out of the bicycle. The van drives away after making a donut on the intersection, the gimp suit-wearing man waving his hand in farewell at the fallen PRT van from his van’s open back doors.

“Was that...  was that fucking Coil?!” Asks Amy. Now I don’t know whoever that is, but if Amy is aware of him…

“Is that a villain or something? He seemed rather harmless on that bike.” he looked like he was having fun.

“Uh yeah. Probably. I never saw him before but I heard he holds the non-Empire part of downtown. Which is its majority.” Huh.

“Ah. That explains it. Now I remember. He is so low profile that I never paid attention to him before.” I might have been a bit too tunnel visioned on Empire. “Well, it seems like the situation handled itself, right? No need to check up on PRT guys?”

Amy sighs. “I kinda have to.”

“Let’s go take a look then.” I say, already walking towards the fallen van. While Amy is looking over the troopers, I try leaning on the van nonchalantly. It’s a good steel, a good steal. I swap it for some regular metal toughness. They won’t be able to tell the difference and I get a sweet alloy toughness in my growing collection. Once Amy is done, we go on our way before something else happens that would interrupt our date.

“So there’s this book store that lets you read their books without buying them, if you buy something from the cafe it’s built next to. They even did some renovations there recently and made an archway between the two instead of having to go through the street. I used to go there when I skipped school cause I was worried the BB Public Library would report me for truancy.” I explain to Amy.

“Pft yeah, they would too.” And I get a distinct feeling Amy wants to be just a little bit judgemental about my admission to truancy, but is holding her tongue. “So why would you skip school?” The million dollar question. Didn’t I tell her I was bullied? Or did I not?

“You know. The usual. Being the publicly accepted social pariah, trying to not get my day ruined by getting various liquids poured at me that are hard or close to impossible to wash off, having my deepest secrets revealed to hundreds of people. That kinda thing.”

“Wuh- you were bullied?” I guess I didn’t.

“How do you think I ended up being healed by you the first time?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a freak accident in the pathology lab of Medhall? Excuse me for thinking of something reasonable! No sane person considers tha bullying, that’s attempted fucking murder and bioterrorism!” That's a lot of indignation at someone else’s problems.

“Oh wow, it’s nice hearing that from someone else.” I chuckle.

“Un-fucking-believeable! Did they get punished at least? Put into juvie?”

“Take a wild guess. It was my word against the whole school’s.” She starts asking something but I pre-empt it, “Nobody spoke up. Not one person. Yuh uh. I was put in detention for making a mess of my locker, actually.” Oh, she’s growing faint. Or just falling silent. I can’t imagine consoling someone else who has the same problem except ‘yeah just go full Carrie on them or something’.

“Do you want me to blacklist them?” Hm?

“What’s that?”

“I’ll never heal them. They come to the hospital in some emergency and they’re on their own. Either take proper medical help from proper professionals or don’t, whichever they choose I’ll be washing my hands off of them.”

“Aw fuck, I should have broken Emma’s nose when I had the chance then! Goddamnit!” And I had the chance just this morning!

“Is that her name?” Amy asks.

“Emma Barnes and a couple others. Sophia Hess, Madisson Clements and sometimes Julia no surname, didn’t bother to remember it.”

“I remember that bitch! She really annoyed Vicky a couple years back by making fun of a handicapped girl. Yeah, no, she’s already on my blacklist. I’ll add Hess and Clements too. Can’t really add every Julia the sophomore from Winslow though, that would kinda be baaad. Carol kicked up a whole fuss about refusing life-saving over people being mean but I stood my ground at the time by providing reasonable arguments. Can’t do that if I do a blanket ban for people with the same name though. And I’m still keeping a couple slots open for when Vicky gets mad at someone. Like there was this new Brute in downtown who beat her in a fight. Yeah, I’m not healing her either, but it’s not like Brutes get injured without straight up dying or healing right back up on their own.” I feel like it’s a bit too late to say That. And I’m not about to out myself to her. Hopefully, she won’t have to heal me anymore once she cures that toxin situation.

“You really like your sister, don’t you?”

“Uh.. yeah. She was my only emotional support after I got adopted. Carol is Carol, you heard her whole deal. Mark is… he tries. He just got depression and sucks at taking his meds. I’m actually working on some permanent solution that doesn’t involve me messing with his brain.” she takes out a RAT out of her pocket. “Check it out. My personal experimental subject for crimes against nature. Mini-Mark the IIIrd.” She drops the rat on my already outstretched hand. Holy shit it's so cute! 

“Hi Mini-Mark” I coo at the… weirdly unresponsive rat.

“Respect the IIIrd! Kinda forgot to leave him in his cage and dragged him out with me when I escaped the house before Vicky could tag along. He’s got depression, just like his human counterpart. Is why he’s so bleh.” She mimed a cartoonish death face that made me chuckle. Aw, just like my dad. 

“Why not the IInd?” I ask, curious about the title.

“Well. You know. Like any rodent, its fate is better left unspoken.” Amy says cryptically.

“Ah. Yeah. I know that feeling. I wanted a cat when I was little. Dad said I should prove that I can care for it first. Got the whole ‘take care of a plant for a month, then a fish for two, then a hamster for half a year’. Got the plant and fish handled just fine.”

“And the hamster?” Amy asks, curious.

“I called him Rocket. I kept him for about an hour. He escaped immediately. We lost him for days and one day when I was vacuuming the floor, he ran out from under the couch right in front of the vacuum… Phthoomph” I move my hand like it's a hamster getting sucked into my bomber. Amy bursts out giggling and quickly composes herself.

“Mini-Mark the IInd kinda got overwhelmed with all the chemicals I sent into his brain. I accidentally gave him a… uh… a pellet portioned for a human.” she says sheepishly.

“Oof. So you can make medicines too? What other miracles can you perform, Amy Dallon?” She suddenly looks guilty at that question.

“My entire skin is sterile. Or I can make it so but then it’ll be covered in non-bio dirt and stuff real quick.” Amy says, somehow giving off the vibes like she’s dodging the question rather than giving an example.

“So you’re saying,” I raise an eyebrow, “That you leave some bacteria behind?” she nods, “Panacea, kills 99.9% of all bacteria, best soap in the market. 9 out of 10 doctors recommend Panacea.” I say in my best telemarketer voice, which elicits a snort from Amy. That seems to distract her from whatever issue she was spiraling into. “Oh, we’re almost there!” I point to the joint cafe/bookstore, my one bastion of safety outside my home. We go into the cafe first and are greeted by the smell of hot tea and coffee. So far I would rate our date as passable. I hope it is. Spending the entire day with her for a first date seems a bit too much but I had to get out of home. I dread the conversation that’s waiting for me when I return.

We order hot beverages and cross the archway into the bookstore. Ah. Smell of tea and paper. My favorite. The boy at the counter is eyeing us with open curiosity. I usually see him on my way out, when he comes in for his shift. He tried striking up a couple conversations with me but, given my mental state back then, I instantly took it as some plot by my bullies and got out of dodge expeditiously. Now that I have little to nothing to fear from non-capes, it seems less daunting to talk to people. Sticks and stones.

I lead Amy into a nook behind the bookshelves where they couldn’t place one due to the corner’s acute angle. Instead, they put some bean bag poufs, a tiny coffee table, a soft light lamp and made it a cozy hiding spot. I was hoping someone took the second bean bag so I had an excuse to offer her to sit beside me, but alas, no “single bed” scenarios for me. Woe is me.

Amy

Amy glanced at Taylor from behind the book she’s reading, Moby-Dick. She wanted to pick something else but she’s yet unsure how chill Taylor is. Amy always wanted to have someone to read with in silence and comfort. She just couldn’t get into the proper headspace and relax. Who invites someone to just spend quality time together on a first date? Vicky said that’s something people do when they’re far more familiar with each other. But what would she know? Her definition of quality time involves exchanging mouth germs with Dean. Amy hides her grimace behind the book. When she lifts her head back, she sees Taylor looking right back at her.

“Enjoying the read?” She asks. Right, she was in the middle of something.

“Uh, yeah. I just didn’t expect us to go to a book store on our first date.” 

Taylor cringes. “Sorry, I thought you’d like this compared to something like shopping. You do that with Vicky enough, right?” Amy was planning for a shopping date, yes. That's what Vicky always does, actually. But she can't imagine herself in Vicky’s place because she could never compare. And she could never imagine herself in Dean’s place because of obvious reasons. Like she couldn't be the walking wallet.

“Uh yeah, I actually don't know what I was hoping for, planning to bring you shopping. This is much more my cup of tea.” Well the one Amy was pointing at wasn't hers but Taylor got the gist. She nods sagely and sips it.

“So. Who's that redhead you tackled yesterday?” Amy tries not to sound too accusing. They are literally on their first date and Amy hasn't even decided if she wants to keep it up yet. But a little part of her that tells her that she's being sidelined again for someone else is at the helm right now, steering her thoughts and steering this conversation.

Taylor, for her part, doesn't choke on her tea. “Uhh… she's a friend.” Riiiiight. “I met her online two-ish years ago. She was looking for friends to play some online games, and got contacted by the same person I did. I only knew her as Fence for this whole time. That is until she posted a selfie with The Rig in the background.” She barks out a quiet laugh, mindful of other people in the room. “So I was nearby and saw her all bloodied and stuff so I ran up to her.”

“And tackled her to the ground.” Amy supplies.

“Ugh, yeah. Not my brightest moment.”

“And she was injured.”

“Yep.”

“And you didn't think to bring her to me.” Taylor freezes. She does that a lot. Amy assumes it's part of her powers, a sort of involuntary use of them.

“Uhh, fuck..? I just didn't want to bother you. You get enough patients as is and she was fine after dad applied first aid. No need for stitches or anything.” Amy gives her her most unimpressed look.

“So a friend of yours of two years is bleeding and injured, and instead of contacting someone whose job is healing people, you just give her first aid and call it a day?”

“Don’t you… you know?.” What? What do I know? Amy looks at Taylor quizzically. “Hate healing people?” Where the fuck did that come from?

“Why the fuck would you think that? I love healing people!” Well that’s a lie but nobody needs to know that Santa isn’t real either. “That’s why I healed you! Twice!” And that is a hard truth, though not a complete one, I did enjoy working on her.

“Uh, sorry. You just mumble about hating healing a lot, I thought you were being serious.” I what?! “Yeah, like right now.” Taylor points out.

“I- I what the fuck are you talking about?” Amy reaches for her mouth, sure that it wasn’t moving. Oh my fucking god. Was I really quietly mumbling my thoughts out loud?!

“I dunno, maybe you just have a very expressive face but I do hear you sometimes say stuff like “evil villainous Amy” and it's hilarious.” Amy stares at Taylor long enough that Taylor stops laughing and hides back behind her book.

Amy huffs and stands up. “Okay, we're leaving. Stand up, call a taxi to your home.” Taylor starts saying something but Amy is done for today. “Nuh uh. I'm coming with you to make sure your friend is okay.” That seems to calm Taylor down. What, did she think Amy ended the date? To go back home? With Carol there? I wanna see if she's a cape. She looked shell shocked like from a recent trigger. If I get to work on her and explain it away as her not noticing her Brute powers… yes. Let's do it. I can… I can do some mods on her! Say her nerves to them were cut somewhere along the injuries!

Taylor

I’m toast. Amy can see people’s biology. I could chalk it up to coincidence that there’s a villainous Brute out there at the same time I triggered. It's an entirely different matter if Amy finds out that my friend is a cape at the same time a cape joins my gang. I’m almost tempted to dust the taxi just to not get home right now. And I still haven’t finished my conversation with Chelsea so there’s that. About that, I should probably warn her.

MoistOlwlO: Heads up, Panacea’s coming
Fence4th: why? I’m not even there!
MoistOlwlO: … Where are you?
Fence4th: triftin
MoistOlwlO: Come back quickly???
Fence4th: k k, pipe down, ill b ther in no time

We stop at my house and I confidently feign confidence, stepping on the rotten step. It holds my weight, it’ll hold Amy’s. I’ll find time later to replace it fully but right now I have more pressing concerns. I lead Amy inside and call out for Chelsea. Silence is my response and that means I got some time till she’s back.

“Okay, sit down wherever while I order us something to eat.” I say to Amy who’s been looking through our family photos on the wall, pointing towards the living room.

“I’m not hungry,” She says and her stomach betrays her lies. She grumbles something and plops down on the armchair.

“Is pizza fine with you?” She nods, “What do you want?”

“Plain cheese or margherita,” Huh, yeah. She does strike me as a margherita fan. I send a quick text to Chelsea asking what she wants, meat lovers or hawaiian. Ugh. Just like dad. I guess I can order a large one so he gets to enjoy it too.

Order done, I pour Amy a cup of oj and offer her a fruit bowl. Truly, having money is great. I just have to find a way to convince dad it's from a part time job. I even have an idea how to handle that. Amy sits in silence, sipping on oj and kicking her feet. From what I can tell she has no idea how to be chill. The way she kept fidgeting in the book store, I doubt a stroll in the park was a good idea. I feel like giving her something to do with her hands would make her less anxious, but I know from personal experience that it just doesn’t work like that for capes. The rubik’s cube in my room now serves a slightly different purpose as my toughness dump and I already dusted one of its corners while I was spacing out. I wonder if there is a way to make an organic fidget toy? Like from wood and algae or something. I look at Amy petting Mini-Mark the IIIrd absent-mindedly… Wait the fuck up. THE RAT! The rat is Amy’s fidget toy! Oh my god!

Amy

She really wanted to work on Taylor right now. But Taylor pointed at the armchair when she told her to sit, so she did what she’s told. She so so wants to work on Taylor. Do something more than just strengthening. Like giving her low light vision or something. She strokes Mini-Mark the IIIrd’s fur, trying out different miniature human eyes on him... But how would she breach that subject?

Taylor

The pizza arrived before Chelsea did. We were on our second slices when she came home, sighing in contentment. “Oh, this was nice. I needed to decompress. Oh, hi Taylor!” She was dressed in a thick beige jacket with a furry collar, brown jeans and beige ankle high boots. Not exactly up to the current weather, but her powers do have some kind of cold aspect to them and she was wearing an ice mask when we first met. And a plain hoodie. In January. Right. “And you must be Panacea?” Says Chelsea, taking off her boots and putting on a pair of fluffy slippers that weren’t there before. Huh. She did more than one trip.

“Just Amy out of costume.” Amy says, setting her slice down. “Would you like me to take a look at your injuries?”

Chelsea looks uncomfortable under Amy’s gaze, “Uh, no. I’m fine, really. Just scratches and bruises, nothing ER-worthy so I’ll be fine.”

That doesn’t seem to impress Amy, however. “When I last saw you, you were bleeding.”

“I know, bad day. Let’s forget about it, kay?” She reaches for the slice of pineapple sin that she and dad call pizza. “Ooh! It’s still hot! Nice.” 

“A- uh. Are you always like that?! Can you be a bit more chalant about it?” Amy says. Hm! You can’t just butcher a word like that.

“Look. You can keep trying to get me healed but I’m telling you, you don’t need to! And let’s not keep reminding me of the accident where I lost someone very important to me?” Chelsea says, her solemn words ruined by half a slice of pizza in her mouth.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Amy immediately backpedals. FF never said there was someone else involved in the accident.

“Well! Since you’re here already, wanna play Cluedo?” Yees, deflect! Redirect the mood back to fun! Good job me! “There’s three of us so we could also play other board games but I actually want to like you two so we’re not playing Monopoly. I also have Bang and Catan if that’s more your cup of tea.”

Amy is looking torn somewhere between being angry at Chelsea and wanting to play. “Ughhh, please at least let me check you?”

“Woah! Not in front of your girlfriend, yeesh! I vote for Catan bee tee dubs.” Amy throws her hands up in the air and asks what Bang is. Wouldn’t you like to know, healer girl. I giggle at my own unspoken quip and show her the cards of the cowboy standoff board game. We play a couple of rounds before Chelsea proposes we rotate through the games I have. That’s how dad finds us sitting with several boxes of board games strewn around when he comes home. Oh, he wasn’t sleeping in, he was out working on a weekend. I introduce Amy to him to which he raises an eyebrow. Right. I told him I’m not gay. At least now he’s sure I won’t be joining the Empire anytime soon!

Somewhere in the middle of the game Amy gets a call on her phone and hushedly argues with somebody for a couple minutes, before grumbling about having to go home. Dad offers to drive her but she politely declines. So I walk her to the bus stop.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” I ask

“And then you’ll be the one taking a bus ride home alone and I’ll feel like shit for taking your time and making you return alone. It’s fine. I kind of dropped a bombshell on Vicky before leaving about her boyfriend bringing Connor the young nazi to the double date Vicky tried to drag me into when you were hospitalized. And that I’m going on a date with you. Yeah. So, yay! Bombshell number two, I guess. See you around.” she blitzed through her last words and jumped into the bus. I’m too exhausted to think about nazis right now. He’s in juvie anyway. Meeting Vicky’s boyfriend will be unpleasant if that’s the kind of friends he has. But that’s not a concern for the Taylor of today. The Taylor of right now has her own very pressing concerns. Like the one waiting at home.

Amy

Amy stood in front of the Dallon household front door. She was debating if it was worth it to just leave for a hospital night shift. She could do that but then she’ll have to go home eventually anyway. And Carol was good at stewing on problems. She would take this time to prepare an even more thorough interrogation. So, with a heavy heart, Amy opened the door and entered the house. It was past dinner time so everyone must have dispersed to their rooms. Mark the original greeted her from his seat in front of the TV. Amy smiled at him in response, her hand reaching out to Mini-Mark the IIIrd to pet him. She approached the kitchen island and plucked a couple grapes from the fruit bowl. 

Fiddling with one grape in her hand, looking for a proper mix of chemicals for Mini-mark, Amy watched Carol descend the stairs. She looked Amy up and down. “Where have you been?”

Amy bristled at that. Didn’t she already tell her on the phone? “I was hanging out with friends.” On seeing Carol’s raised eyebrow, she added, “We went to a bookstore, then played board games. That’s it.”

Carol pressed on. “Who are those friends? How do you know them?”

“I healed Taylor a week ago and Vicky invited her to her study group when we met her later on the Boardwalk. Taylor invited me to hang out with her and her other friend. They aren’t capes. Just normal people.” Well that’s a lie at least about Taylor. Amy didn’t have the opportunity to check Chelsea which would have left her in low spirits. That is, if she didn’t also stay elbow to elbow with Taylor for a solid hour, slowly setting up her organism for their next “healing session”.

Carol took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Next time, tell me beforehand. It's not safe to go out alone, especially with civilians. Alright, I have work to do, I’ll be in my office.” With that, she turned away and left. That was surprisingly short. But what work does she have on a saturday night? She clearly went to investigate Taylor. It’s not like there are many Taylors my age that I healed a week ago.

Carol

Entering her home office, Carol locked the door and pulled up her laptop. Finally, with all her family at home, with no one to worry about excessively, she was in the proper headspace for relaxation. She had installed great sound insulation in this room. After all, her clients’ confidentiality is of great importance to her. This also opened up a venue for Carol to vent without alerting her family. After all, if they heard her now, half an hour into her sinful hobby, she would lose all credibility both as a professional and as a parent.

“Ooh, what are you gonna do about it?” she said into the worst quality mic she could find on sale, “Piss and cry, maybe? Tell your mom about it?” Her hands never stopped moving during her rant. “Won’t even have to go far, just go up the stairs, basement boy,” She was dragging these noobs.

The profanities thrown at her were muffled by the classical music playlist she chose for today’s COD session. She was also in the middle of the most despicable thing a gamer can do. While her work PC was running cod, her personal laptop was connected to a VPN, displaying Uber and Leet’s stream where they were on a lose streak. Yes. Carol Dallon was stream sniping.

With her increasing responsibilities as a mother and her work picking up pace, she had less and less time to actually patrol as a cape. But she took solace in knowing that she ruined the day for the local villainous duo. Another day being a hero.

“You’re cheating, you bitch!” came Leet’s shrill voice in the proximity chat. “I’m reporting your ass!”

“Not my fault you suck ass and your aim is shit. Who let you in the lobby? You should be ashamed of yourself. Mods, you sure the skill based matchmaking is working properly?” Said Carol, headshotting Uber the moment he rounded the corner.

“Fuck you, you ******! We’ll find you and fuck you up I swear to god!” said Uber through Leet’s mic. 

“Oh you don’t have to walk far for that either. Just go up the stairs. I’m right there, fucking your mom!” the proximity chat erupts in snickers and cackles, as the duo’s stream also explodes in pogs. She sees Leet slamming his controller and quitting the game. She ‘nades Leet through the window he was hiding under and drops him to 0 too. “Come on, boys, keep fragging, my KD ratio is looking great!” That wasn’t quite enough for Uber to also rage quit. He kept coming after her. She could guess that he started using his powers to get better at the game, something he swore to never do. Of course, Carol thought, You should never trust a villain’s promises. She won, at the end, as no amount of Thinkering could trump good old cheating. Her victory condition being both villains quitting the game and ending the stream. She even sent a 2$ donation. “Buy yourselves ice packs FOR THAT SICK BURN YOU GOT” She typed happily and hit send. She used a Paypal registered on a burner phone number, no need to connect that donation to her real self.

Uber

“That fucking cougar bitch!” he heard Leet exclaim, nose buried in his tinker stuff. “I’ll prove that she’s cheating and drag her through the mud! She’ll lose all respect in the community! Mark my words!”

“I don’t know, bro, are you sure it’s wise to use your tinkering on that?” Ryan asked. He knew Kevin hated wasting his power on one thing only to later need the same thing for a more important purpose.

“No, dude, I’m not tinkering. You know I’m a fucking CS major, right? I don’t need no tinkering to find that bitch!”

“Well, if you’re sure,” hedged Ryan. He wanted to distract his friend with something. “What you say we do something big to distract the peeps from our epic fail today?” Kevin puts down his tools.

“Yeeees?”

“We could do a flashy reenactment…” Ryan muses, “Something loud, something bright. Something that would remind people that we’re cool.” And thus, a plan started brewing.