27

Chapter 27

I, Panacea

Part Twenty-Seven: Do What Ya Gotta Do

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Panacea

The sun was definitely starting to dip in the direction of Captain's Hill when Amy got off the bus at the northern ferry terminal.

You know, Michael commented off-handedly, we could've done this another day. You've had it pretty hectic already.

I know, she sighed. But if I use that as an excuse to put it off today, it'll be easier to do it again for another reason tomorrow. Better to get it over with and see what advice she's got for me.

She could sense his agreement. Been there, done that. Too lazy to get the T-shirt.

There was nobody waiting at the stop, so the bus driver closed the door and pulled away again. Amy took a deep breath and started walking in the direction of the Undersiders' base. Got any advice for me? For dealing with them, I mean?

You've been there every time I've spoken with them. His voice was gently chiding. I might know more about them, but you're a lot more likely to understand them by now.

No, I mean yes, that's true. But how do you not want to smack Lisa every time she does that little 'I know more than you do' smirk?

She felt him sigh. You're assuming I don't. But no, that's a legitimate question. I just remind myself that she's a Thinker. All powers are aimed at causing conflict, so you remember how I told you about shards? Yeah, well, her shard is literally pushing her to blurt out stuff that pisses people off, either via the content or via the attitude, just like what I told you how your powers would activate on their own if you didn't use them for more than healing.

You're shitting me. She paused, recalling the fact that Michael had never lied to her or misled her in any significant manner. So all that bitchiness, that's her shard pushing her to be that way?

He transmitted a mental image of a grin. Well, maybe a little bit of it's really her. It's gotta have something to work with, after all. But let's go with ten percent original issue, ninety percent shard-generated. It's kind of sad, really.

What is? She got the impression he wasn't talking about Tattletale anymore.

Capes in general, and Thinkers in particular. Everyone's a puppet to their shards to one degree or another, except the ones that got it out of a vial. And sometimes even them. But Thinkers … they end up leaning so hard on their powers, they never see when they're being led down the wrong path. All in the name of conflict.

Amy had long since decided to drop her grudge against Lisa, but this new information was beginning to paint that entire incident in a different light. Wait, so … if we'd all been totally rational and free of shard influence, that stuff in the bank wouldn't have happened?

He snorted. Robbing a bank isn't exactly a rational move. It's about the least efficient way to make money when it comes to profit versus risk, but it's big and flashy and that was what Coil wanted. But yeah, once you had the hostages out of the way, why didn't you go upstairs with them?

I … what? Mentally, Amy backpedalled. I thought this was about Tattletale making bad choices because of her power.

Tattletale wasn't the only cape in the room, he reminded her cheerfully. You weren't front line. You knew Vicky was going to be busting down the door at any second, and there'd be a fight. The smart idea would've been to hide upstairs as well, but you didn't do that. So, do you want to know what I think happened?

Amy did not, but neither did she want to be left in the dark. I'm listening.

Vicky was incoming, and her shard said to Taylor's and Lisa's: woo hoo, let's have a fight! Lots of conflict and learning new stuff about ourselves. You would've snuck upstairs, but Lisa's shard offered conflict to yours and Vicky's both, and Taylor's hadn't really been let out for a spin before so it was all in as well. So your shard made up your mind for you, and you stayed downstairs.

What? Seriously, what the fuck? This conversation was definitely going places Amy had never been before. Are you saying my shard Mastered me?

He didn't step back from the idea. Sounds about right. I mean, look at it. You could've just walked up to Taylor and dropped her with your powers, and she wouldn't have known you were there until it was all over. But instead you chose to hit her with a fire extinguisher, and conflict started happening all over the place.

Amy didn't want it to be true, but the logic was incontrovertible. Taking the bug cape out of action would've certainly been the smartest move, right after going upstairs with the erstwhile hostages and barricading themselves into an office or something to wait for the heroes. That would've given Vicky a clear run to smack the villains around without her as a hostage to queer the deal.

Oh, hey. Something I just thought of. You and Vicky were there because she'd arranged a double date with some guy, right? You wanted to withdraw money. So, whose idea was it to go to that bank? Why didn't you just go to an ATM? What if you and Vicky even being there was a shard decision? It sure as hell added a lot of conflict to the mix.

What the fuck? So all that shit went down because our shards decided to have a play date with the Undersiders? It was horrifying on a particularly visceral level. Nobody liked the idea of being Mastered; anyone who could actually coerce a person into doing things against their will tended to end up badly. So, wait. Everyone with powers is being influenced by them into totally unnecessary confrontations? Even capes like Jack Slash?

He chuckled wryly. Well, not everyone. Some people are just plain arseholes to begin with. Jack's shard never had to push him into conflict. He loved it from the word go. It was his bread and butter. Chances are, even without it, he would've ended up as a serial killer anyway.

Oh. She began to feel a little better about his demise, and her part in it. But the others? You can't say they're all like that.

Yeah, no, true. But let's look at Taylor. When she got her powers, she wanted to be a hero like Alexandria. But when she made her costume, it came out dark and villain-like. Even Armsmaster said as much when they first met. Her shard pushed her for the clash with Lung, then more clashing with Armsmaster, so when the Undersiders made their overture, she accepted. Pretty big switch for someone who wanted to go the hero route, wouldn't you say?

He was right. It was. All this time, she hadn't even thought it through, but there it was. And let me guess. She gets more conflict this way than if she'd joined the Wards.

Well, apart from the clash that would've happened sooner or later with Shadow Stalker, yeah. That would've been a one and done, as opposed to the ongoing conflict that's been Taylor's life since she joined the Undersiders.

Her mind veered away from Taylor. What about Coil? Was he a bad person, or did his shard make him that way?

Let's put it this way. He was originally booted from the PRT because he shot a superior officer in the back, and climbed over his corpse to get into the chopper. Fortunately for him, the specific circumstances didn't warrant more stringent punishment. And then he went and bought powers with the express intent of becoming a supervillain. The man was a snake long before he put on that costume.

Oh. While that didn't necessarily make her feel better about Coil's death, it gave her a certain amount of perspective in the matter. Jesus Christ, I'll be second-guessing every decision I'll be making from here on in.

Which isn't a bad habit to have, if you're smart about it. You're probably aware of this, but only about five to ten percent of our day-to-day decisions actually involve a conscious thought process. Most of what we do is dealt with on instinct, and we just backfill the justifications after the fact. Sometimes it's a good idea to question those justifications before we jump right in.

She paused. I was not, in fact, aware of that. Or is this the leadup to some convoluted joke?

Hah, nope. Wish it was. Some go higher than that and some lower, but it's depressing how many decisions we make on the basis of what we'll get out of it—be it food, sex or money—all the while telling ourselves smugly that we're carefully reviewing all the facts and coming to a reasoned decision. Or maybe because we don't like something or someone, and don't even realise it.

I have trouble believing that. People are smarter than what you're saying. At least, she realised as she 'said' it, that was what she wanted to think. Vicky was smart enough to take college courses, and she still pulled some majorly dumbass stunts from time to time.

To quote what might still be one of the best movies of all time: A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky animals and you know it. Do you remember the last time you had to make a decision and it was actually difficult to decide what to do?

She frowned. That was a little while ago, but sure. Why?

That was the last time you actively engaged your brain to deal with a problem rather than letting your prejudices and instincts make the choice for you. People don't like to think too hard. It's strenuous and they aren't used to it. We aren't used to it. This is why every one of us builds up a toolkit of autonomous responses to use in everyday social situations. We're lazy.

Ooh, ouch. Amy's mind veered away to something Michael had said earlier. And let me guess. Thinkers learn to let their shards handle the instinctive stuff, so it's not even their lizard brain or whatever making the decision. It's some weird alien supercomputer in another dimension. Mentally, she shook her head. No fucking wonder they do stupid things occasionally.

And the lady with the frizzy hair wins first prize. Michael sounded honestly proud. I was hoping you'd connect the dots on that one.

It's not that I couldn't, Amy said honestly. It's that I didn't want to. I've grew up thinking getting powers was the coolest thing that could happen to you. Even when I got mine and found out they weren't so great, it was easy to decide I just wasn't using them right, or I got a bad batch, not that all powers everywhere suck giant elephant testicles. So, now I'm finding out that everyone with powers basically has a game controller plugged into their heads. Worse, every time those giant alien supercomputers get bored, they pick up the controller and bash us against each other like kids playing fight games on their consoles. You'll excuse me if I'm not thrilled with the idea.

I'd be pissed off too, Michael assured her. But you know what the worst bit is?

Oh, for fuck's sake. There's more? Michael made no comment. Of course there's fucking more. Hit me.

Do you know how many people on Earth Bet are consciously aware of what I've just told you and you've figured out?

Amy wanted to say hundreds, or even or thousands. She didn't think of herself as stupid, but she knew she wasn't exactly an outlier in the intelligence stakes. But then she caught herself. The tone of the question made her rethink her assumptions. It's a low number, isn't it? I'm thinking … everyone who's involved in that bunch Contessa's with, Cauldron, right?

Nope. Number's lower than that. Two, to be precise. You and me.

That didn't sound right to Amy at all. Only two? That's impossible. It's not exactly rocket science. All you've really got to do is ask yourself what the worst possible interpretation of having powers would be.

Well, true. Anyone could figure it out given the right data points … but no cape can. Only normals. And only one normal was smart enough to do it. A guy called Doctor William Manton. There's a lot about his work he never shared with anyone, but it's easy to see that he knew more about capes than basically anyone.

It took Amy a moment to figure out what he meant. You're saying our shards stop us from realising what's going on. It was an unpleasant epiphany, but a necessary one. That would be fucking typical. It was one more thing to add to the growing list of grievances she had against her power shard. Who's this Manton guy? Where have I heard that name before?

Michael's voice became professorial. In her mind's eye, she saw him standing before an old-fashioned blackboard. William Manton codified the Manton Effect, then went nuts after he gave his daughter a bad vial of powers, defected from Cauldron with another vial, and ended up as the Master in control of the Siberian projection. Alexandria killed him just the other day.

Oh, yeah, I remember you telling her about that. And about his pedo-van. Do I want to know what one of those is?

No. No, you do not. He paused, apparently thinking something through. Actually, talking about being Mastered, are you aware that you can now share the driver's seat with me, where you couldn't before?

Yeah, well, that was a little bit of a surprise, Amy agreed with a grin. That's some trick you pulled out of your sleeve for the occasion, is it? Can you do it again?

Actually, it wasn't me. As far as I can tell, that happened when Mama Mathers jumped into your head. You learned how to do that all by yourself. Coming up.

In the next moment, her awareness of him emerged into the same 'side by side' arrangement they'd gotten into during the fight with the Fallen capes. She tensed, expecting to be pushed down again, but nothing of the sort happened.

Okay, so this is a thing now. Does it change anything else? I mean, you're still in charge anytime you want to be, right?

I honestly don't know. His voice was thoughtful. When I first showed up, you weren't able to take over at all, even when I stepped out of the way. What if this is just another stage? Try to push me down, back to where I was.

What? To say she was startled would be an understatement. I can't. You've just brushed me aside every time.

Are you being brushed aside right now? Go on, give it a go.

She did her best to eye him suspiciously. Is this you setting up to take a dive to give me extra confidence?

If it was, you'd never know. But it's not. I'm serious, here. This is your body, and you need to have the say over who's in the driver's seat. I'm just along for the ride.

The serious tone of his voice convinced her. Okay, then.

Gathering all her will, she did her best to force his presence into the back of her mind. He seemed to give way at first, then he grunted silently and pushed back. She shoved harder, forcing him down again. The resistance was palpable, and gradually he once more muscled his way into the tandem driver's seat. Mentally exhausted, she gave up the effort, glaring at his avatar.

See? I can't beat you. This was stupid.

He seemed illogically upbeat. No, that was amazing. You nearly pushed me down on your first try. I had to fight like hell to stay up here.

But I couldn't keep you down. She couldn't see why he was so happy, unless he got his jollies by making her try and fail.

No, think about it. When I first got here, you couldn't have pushed me down with anything. I could've ignored you all day long. Now, you know you can push me down, and you nearly did it first time. Have you ever seen The Matrix?

The name was vaguely familiar, but not one she knew specifically. Is that an Aleph movie?

Probably. He shrugged mentally. Might have to see if we can get a copy. The point is, the main character ends up in a space much like you are, where mental fortitude and determination are far more important than physical skills. One part of his training is to make an impossible leap across a street between two skyscrapers. The line that gets used in the movie is, Nobody makes their first leap. And he doesn't. But he makes the second leap.

She thought she could see what he was getting at. So … the point is to keep trying until I'm strong enough to succeed?

Bingo. Wanna try again, or leave it until later?

Yeah, no, not now. I'm not in the right headspace for it at the moment. But you're saying I did actually push you down? You weren't just letting me win for a little bit?

You one hundred per cent pushed me down. I wasn't resisting with my full strength, but that was because I didn't really expect you to go so hard on your first try. I was basically going to ramp up with you. See above about being lazy. And when you did ramp up, you did it faster than I did. If I hadn't been paying attention, you could've definitely shoved me down.

She felt obscurely pleased at that. Going from feeling helpless to prevent him from taking over her body at will to having at least a chance to regain control was amazing. It also helped that he was encouraging her every step of the way, while not babying her or handing her unearned victories.

Awesome. So, don't take this the wrong way, but I can't wait until I can kick you out of my head.

He let out a silent chuckle. You can take this any way you like, but I can't wait to vacate the premises altogether. Now, if you don't mind, I have a project I'd like to get back to. His presence faded toward the back of her mind.

Project? What project?

Oh, just something I'm working on. Plan Z, you might say. The sound of imaginary hammers and saws drifted to her mental ears.

Amy shook her head and kept walking. Michael might be a pleasant enough occupant of her head, but sometimes he could definitely be weird, if not downright obscure.

Brian

Undersiders Base

Angelica lifted her head and gave a single 'woof' before dropping it to her paws once more. Lisa and Taylor looked around from where they were having a quiet discussion.

"Amy's outside," Lisa said, beating Taylor by a split second.

"And she's alone," Taylor added. "Nobody's following her. In fact, there's no-one nearby at all. And my bugs can't see anyone flying."

"Which means that unless Glory Girl's been taking classes in subtlety, she didn't come along." Lisa looked happier at having come to that conclusion. Brian recalled how she'd had her shoulder dislocated by the teen hero in the bank; they'd interacted civilly enough since then, but Lisa always relaxed just a little more when Glory Girl wasn't around.

"Aww, did the mean ol' superhero hurt Tattle's fee-fees?" jibed Alec, glancing up from his game.

"Regent-underscore-one-five-underscore-king, first and last letters uppercase," Lisa stated flatly. "One more word and I delete all your high scores."

With a sigh, Brian got up from the sofa at the same time as Taylor rose from her chair. "Someone's gotta let her in," he said.

"What I was thinking." She headed for the door. "I can do it."

He shrugged, looking at where Lisa was giving Alec the finger. "I'm already up. We can both handle it. And maybe these two will grow some maturity while we're downstairs."

Taylor's sceptical eyebrow-raise was getting along pretty well, he saw. "Maybe if we left town for six months?"

His chuckle followed them out, and they headed down the stairs. He let her go first, because he didn't feel like having bugs down the back of his neck for the next week. While he didn't think she was that vindictive, there wasn't much sense in taking chances.

Once they reached the bottom, Taylor unlocked the door. Amy stood there, leaning theatrically against the doorframe. "Took your time," she observed with a tinge of snark. "Did Taylor have to help you with your makeup or something?"

Ignoring Taylor's sudden snort of laughter, Brian rolled his eyes. "Blame Lisa and Alec. What's up?"

"I need to ask Lisa for some advice." Amy didn't sound thrilled, and Brian couldn't blame her. While the two teens got along most of the time, there was a fundamental disconnect between their personalities. It didn't help that the mysterious Michael was apparently able to see through ninety percent of Lisa's bullshit. Fortunately, he also seemed to be invested in keeping the peace between them, and knew how to wrangle Amy's moods.

"Come on in," Taylor said. "I can tell it must be serious."

"Well, yes, it is." Amy gave her a puzzled look. "But how did you know?"

Taylor smirked. "Because you're voluntarily asking Lisa for advice." She waited until Amy was inside, then closed the door again.

"She's got a point," Brian said, turning toward the spiral staircase. "Ever since Coil, we've been more or less at a loose end, and Lisa and Alec have been competing for the passive-aggressive stakes."

Taylor nodded. "With any luck, they won't have killed each other by the time we get back up there."

"With any luck, they will have. Or Rachel's bumped their heads together a few times," grumbled Brian, heading up the steps.

There was no shouting or other sounds of mayhem by the time they reached the top. Rachel was still in her room, while Alec had gone back to playing his game while very studiously ignoring Lisa. The blonde popped her head out of the kitchen, apparently ignoring Alec just as carefully, and grinned at Amy. "Oh, hey," she said. "Did you finally find a problem the all-knowing oracle in your head can't fix?"

Amy gave her a steady look. "He's got a space inside my head that he uses as an office. It's got a blackboard, and he's keeping score. He's also chuckling. Just so you know."

That made Lisa pause for a few seconds, before she recovered. "Okay, fine, truce. You've come to ask me about something. How can I help you?"

"Oh, we can help each other." Amy tilted her head toward the two armchairs. "We need to talk."

"Is this going to be something I'll regret hearing?" asked Brian. "Because those four words are never ominous."

Amy seemed to think about that. "Probably," she admitted. "But it won't be you that gets in trouble."

From the faint expression of worry on Lisa's face, she was also having second thoughts. "Shit, it's that bad?"

"Well, yes and no." Amy lowered herself into one of the armchairs. "So, did you hear about how we took down the Nine?"

Brian had not heard about this at all. "When did this happen? And why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because it was only a rumour on PHO," Lisa said.

Everyone looked at Alec, who hadn't said anything. He glanced up from the game for a second. "Hey, I don't give a shit either way. It's not like they're ever likely to come after me."

Amy cleared her throat. "Actually," she said. "Michael says that if he hadn't interfered with the situation, your sister Cherie would've joined sooner rather than later. And when they came to Brockton Bay, she would've nominated you as a member. Not in any hopes you'd win, of course. More to mess with you."

Alec stared at her for so long his on-screen character died in a blaze of electronic noises. "Fuck!" he muttered. "Fucking Cherie. She'd totally do that, too."

Amy shrugged. "Well, it's not like she's going to do that now. Though don't surprised if she chooses some other ill-advised means of protecting herself from your father."

"So this actually happened?" Lisa pressed. "Was it the whole Triumvirate? That's what I heard."

"Just Alexandria," Amy said. "But that's not what I want to ask you about."

Lisa's eyes clicked into focus. "No, it's not. One of them's alive. Bonesaw. Michael wanted her alive. And now you want to ask me how to talk to her. How to get her on your side."

"Bonesaw?" The name had definitely gotten Alec's attention. "You're shitting me, right? That little maniac's here in Brockton Bay? Why aren't we evacuating the whole city?"

"I don't know where they're keeping her," Amy admitted. "But Michael says she's an important part of his plans, so I need to know how to talk her around. According to him, she sees me as a big sister or something stupid like that."

"So just tell her you're happy to be her big sister," Alec offered sarcastically. "Just, you know, hold off on the murder and stuff. At least until there's no witnesses around."

Amy smiled sweetly at him. "If we start with you and you're the only one around, there will be no witnesses."

"How come she can sound creepier than an actual villain when she says that?" complained Alec.

"Because if I ever became a villain," Amy told him, "I'd be scarier than all the rest put together. Because I'd only ever do it for what I saw as a good reason. And if you're absolutely convinced your cause is pure and just, there's no atrocity you won't stoop to." She let her words hang in the silence for a few seconds, then chuckled lightly. "Just kidding. Except for the part about atrocities. History's full of monsters who thought they were the good guy, and if people would just do what they were told, everything would be okay."

"So, what's the difference?" asked Taylor. "Being a dedicated villain and knowing it, and thinking you're still a hero? Why's the second one scarier?"

Amy's grin slowly widened. "Because they try harder."

Yeah, decided Brian. Definitely creepier.

Panacea

An Hour Later

"I still don't see why you felt it necessary to give me a lift," Amy said. "I could've walked back to the bus stop just fine."

"The buses don't always run to that stop after dark," Brian said as he steered the car around the corner onto the main road. "And both Lisa and Taylor would skin me alive if I let you go out alone and you got hurt."

He's right, you know. Michael's voice was matter of fact. Not every member of the criminal element knows your face, or even respects what you do. We're good, but someone coming at us with a weapon could hurt you badly before you dropped him.

I thought you were supposed to be supporting my independence as a person, she snarked back. You're not my dad.

No, I'm not. But if I were, I'd be telling you the exact same thing. His tone had gone from matter of fact to patient. Independence is a good thing. But, and this is important, so is being realistic. Today's world is a dangerous place, even for adults. It's a sad and sorry indictment on society that a woman or teenage girl walking alone is often seen as a potential target for assault or worse, but that's the way it is. I wouldn't want you getting hurt even if I wasn't riding around in your head.

I should've called Vicky for a lift.

Yes, you could have. How long would the interrogation have gone on about exactly why you were out this way, again?

I'd tell her to drop it, and she would. But Amy knew this was weak, to say the least.

So did Michael, by his reply. Really? Vicky? Drop any subject she wasn't ready to drop? You have met her, right?

Fine, you win. She didn't have to like it, though.

"Everything okay?" That was Brian, in the driver's seat. He had most of his attention on the road, but he was glancing her way occasionally. "You're being very quiet over there."

"I'm fine." She bit the word off. "This doofus in my head thinks he knows better than me about being safe."

"Didn't you say he was like forty or fifty, and a security guard or something?" Brian frowned. "Seems to me, someone like that might actually know something about staying safe. It being his job and all."

You can just shut up right now.

Didn't say a word.

I can hear your grin from here.

She gave Brian a moderate glare. "That's right. Take his side."

He rolled his eyes. "His side? Girl, that was my side before I ever heard his part in it. So don't try to tell me I'm taking someone else's side."

"Fine. Gang up on me with someone you've never actually met." But she was starting to see the mildly amusing side of it.

Which was when the red and blue flashing lights cut in through the back window. She saw Brian's eyes flick up to the mirror, then his lips tightened. "Sonovabitch," he muttered.

"That can't be for you," she protested. "You weren't speeding or doing anything dangerous."

As if the occupants of the police car had heard her, there was a brief blast from a siren, directly behind them. It seemed somebody didn't share her opinion of Brian's driving competence.

"Don't have to be." Brian scanned the street ahead. "Shit." He hit the indicator and started to pull over. "Put your hands on the dash, keep quiet and it should be okay."

What should be okay? What's going on here?

Shit. Michael popped up into her space. Okay, quick question. Do you happen to know if any cops in town are Empire supporters?

Empire Eighty-Eight? Police officers supporting them? The idea was ludicrous. What do you mean? They're a criminal gang.

So are the Ku Klux Klan, kiddo. Back in the day, more than a few of them wore badges. Now, this could be nothing or it could be something. We're gonna have to play it by ear.

I have no idea what you're talking about. Play what by ear?

He sighed. If I'm wrong and the car's got a defect, then that's one thing. But if I'm right, we're about to get a first-hand demonstration of the term 'driving while black'.

By now, the car was at a stop on the side of the road. Brian had the heels of his hands on the wheel in the ten-and-two position, and his documentation between the fingers of his left hand. The window was already down, because he liked to drive that way.

Keeping her voice low, she murmured, "Uh, those are real, right?"

Brian didn't turn his head away from the window, and his lips barely moved as he replied. "Real enough. Hands on the dash."

A shadow moved against the street-lights just as she put her hands on the dashboard. It resolved itself into a police officer, leaning down to shine a flashlight in through the open window. The light hit her full in the face, blinding her.

"Hey, stop that!" she protested, bringing up her hand to shield her face.

In the next moment, a large hand took hold of her wrist and dragged it down again. "You got something to hide, kid? Identification, now."

On the far side of the car, she was vaguely aware of a light also being shone in Brian's face, and his documentation being taken and examined. But the rough treatment irritated her, overriding her cautious nature. With the skin-to-skin contact, she could read his entire body, and affect whatever she wanted. A twitch in a muscle at the right place and he dropped the flashlight, removing the glare from her face again. "This is assault," she declared. "Why do you need my ID?"

"Failure to identity yourself to a police officer is an offense under the law," grunted the cop. "Out of the car, girl."

"Only if you've got reasonable suspicion—ow! Hey!" Amy was only halfway through her response—long association with Carol had taught her some aspects of the law, at least—when the cop yanked the door open and started dragging her out. Or tried to; her seatbelt was still fastened.

"Leave her alone!" shouted Brian from the far side of the car. "She's—shit, no, don't!"

The shot echoed through the car, hammering on her eardrums. Her head jerked around, just in time to see Brian start to fall, his body outlined by the muzzle-flash.

She reached into the nervous system of the police officer who still had ahold of her, and switched off all motor control. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Then she unclipped her seat and slid out of the car.

As she stood, she saw the cop swing the pistol toward her across the top of the car. "Rhodes!" he yelled. "Rhodes, sound off, man! What did you do to him? Hands! Show me your hands!"

What's a good way to tell a cop that he's making a mistake?

Even the normally unflappable Michael seemed a bit flustered. Uh, something like 'stand down'?

Okay, then. "Stand down!" she shouted, trying to match his volume. Before she could say any more, the pistol twitched, and she ducked on instinct; a moment later, it went off, so close she swore she felt the bullet pass by overhead.

"Carl! Talk to me, man! What did you do to him, you little bitch?"

Amy's ears were ringing so badly she could barely hear him. She doubted he would be able to hear her at all, even if she tried to talk him down. Which left Plan B. Take them both out, then save Brian.

Dropping flat, she wriggled under the car. There were mechanical bits on the underside, some of which were hot and other bits that tried to snag her hoodie and hair. If that wasn't bad enough, the road surface itself was filthy, with more than a little oil. Gritting her teeth, she pushed on.

She was most of the way across to the other side when the cop got restless. "Where the hell is she?" At least, that was what she thought she heard. She saw his booted feet move off to the side, around the end of the car. Oh, for fuck's sake.

Plan C. Save Brian now.

Good plan. She kept squirming, until she could reach out from under the vehicle and touch Brian where he lay with one foot still in the car. His body systems flared to life in her mind's eye, and she saw the wound; a through-and-through in the lower chest region. The bullet had gone through Brian's left lung and nicked his spine. He was semi-conscious, but the rate of blood loss would've killed him in fifteen or twenty minutes.

"Rhodes!" The officer was calling out from the far side of the car. By the sound of it, he was shaking his partner heavily, to no avail.

Well, duh. He gets up when I say he gets up, and not one second before.

Amy applied her power to Brian, healing the wound channel and scavenging the blood that had collected in his lung for use back in his body. His damaged spine was repaired, better than ever, and she took care of a host of microfractures he'd suffered at one time or another through his life.

Okay, what do we do now?

Call backup, and see if we can't get that idiot cop's attention again. Maybe this time lead with 'Panacea' or 'New Wave' or 'superhero on site'? Just suggesting.

Brian came to, drawing in a long shuddering breath and sitting up. Amy took the time to wriggle out from under the car, keeping an ear out for the trigger-happy police officer. This time when she stopped moving, she could hear him speaking urgently on his radio. She'd learned a little about this sort of thing while growing up with New Wave, but right now her heart was beating too fast for her to focus on his exact words. Also, she didn't want to stick her head up in case he shot at her again.

And then a bug hummed past her ear. She almost didn't pay attention to it, but then three more came past and orbited her head in perfect formation.

Wait a minute. Is it just me, or …

A wild surmise growing in Amy's mind, she looked up at the street lighting. More and more bugs were coming into view, but they weren't circling the lights. Instead, they were zooming through, as though on a mission.

It definitely looks like it. Not the cavalry I would've expected, but I'll totally take it.

The original three bugs landed on the side of the car next to her, aligned perfectly horizontally. They were fireflies, she noticed. Because of course they are. They all blinked at once, then the one on the far left blinked three times in succession. A second later, the one in the middle blinked twice. She was already looking at the one on the right-hand end when it blinked once.

One second later, a monstrous rhino-dog thing barrelled down off a nearby building and hit the cop car amidships, smashing it into the air and onto its roof. The cop let out a yelp of pure terror, exacerbated when a second monster landed beside him and flicked him away from Brian's car with its prehensile tail.

Somehow he kept hold of his pistol, but Regent, riding the third dog, waved his hand negligently and he dropped it before he could point it at anyone.

Lisa, riding the second dog, gave Amy and Brian an extravagant salute. "Good evening, citizens!" she said with a broad grin. "We have no quarrel with you, so you may be on your way."

Amy rolled her eyes at the theatrical bullshit, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Scrambling around to the passenger side of the car, she paused to revive the cop she'd disabled, then jumped in and fastened her seatbelt. Brian already had the car running and in gear by this point.

As they headed off down the street, Amy heard the complicated sounds of a cop car being steadily demolished. "Well, that worked," she said, then looked down at herself. "I think I need a shower."

"Could've been a lot worse," Brian agreed, touching the still-tacky bloodstain on his shirt. "Thanks for saving my ass, by the way. And I'm going to have to talk to Lisa about her dialogue. That frankly sucked."

"Suit yourself," Amy said. "Next time I see her, I'm gonna give her a big hug."

Brian sighed. "You do you. And by the way, next time I say hands on the dash, keep them on the dash. Okay?"

Amy nodded, aware she'd screwed up. "Yeah, got it. Sorry. I'm not used to this sort of thing."

Brian's voice was more resigned than angry. "Yeah, I wish I could say I was surprised."

Silence fell in the car then, each busy with their own thoughts as they rolled through the mean streets of Brockton Bay.

End of Part Twenty-Seven