Alright, attempt number whatever - I lost count. I've been sitting here for hours trying to get this stupid thing to work.
"Urrrrrgh!" I unintentionally groaned, the focus of my soul and very being on the spoon in front of me. It glowed a faint blue, its silvery sheen overcome by my godly psychic might. As I put more effort into exerting my will on the forces of reality, the blue outlining the utensil grew.
After a few minutes, I was holding a spoon-shaped, psychic supernova. Its light had grown to the point of going beyond blue and straight into white. Shadows across the living room extended as the new source of light overcame even the outside sun that shone in through the windows.
Then, with a tiny screech, it bent a few degrees to the side.
"Damn it!" I shouted, chucking the bent spoon into the pile of other damaged silverware and one lamp I accidentally turned into a silly straw.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration.
"How the hell does teleporting work?! I am putting the psychic power in the thing, and willing it to move! What else do I need to do?!" I shouted into the house.
'You do realize that teleportation is a skill that necessitates phenomenal mental capabilities and a thorough understanding of the underlying threads of reality, yes?' Mewtwo said, his eyes aglow with psychic power as he beamed his words into my head from right next to me.
I narrowed my eyes at his nonchalant attitude towards my lack of progress.
"Abra, a literal sleeping baby, can do this while unconscious. And you're telling me it's some kind of super skill?" I questioned the strongest psychic. Mewtwo raised a single brow over his newspaper. I don't know why he read the newspaper when he could just scry things, but I was also smart enough not to question the idiosyncrasies of the guy who was ostensibly my lifeboat.
'It just goes to show the sheer gap in potential between your pitiful race and mine.' He shut me down before turning back to his paper. I groaned in frustration before turning to the other occupant in the room.
"Snom, what do you think?" I asked the icicle grub. Snom, who had been lying on the rug upside down the entire time, looked at me with his beady black eyes before righting himself.
"Snom." He said full of simplistic wisdom and magic conchness.
"He is a dick isn't he?" I agreed with the bug type while chuckling. Mewtwo, of course, bristled and lowered his newspaper.
'Silence, you disappointment. And as for you, insect…' Mewtwo commanded me before turning back to Snom.
'Know that within every atom of my being is a power so vast and overwhelming, that your meagre existence cannot comprehend even its shallowest depth. Scouring you and your kind from eternity is the least of my abilities. So answer me, why do you continue to vex me?' Mewtwo asked, rising from the table.
He was surrounded by a corona of might, but unlike my previous attempt with the spoon, his power was controlled. A sheen of psychic power covered his body, but denser than anything I would ever accomplish even in three lifetimes. In a display of power, furniture started levitating, and the house started shaking as Shadow Balls formed behind him like some kind of vengeful god preparing to smite a heretic. All of it was aimed at the little bug who had been playing with a snowflake he made while ignoring Mewtwo.
"Omsnom." The magic conch bug said. And like that, Mewtwo's terrifying presence winked out. Furniture fell back in place, daylight came back, and the Shadow Balls slowly dissipated. The Psychic-type Legendary wrinkled his nose at the little cocooned guy.
'I believe I despise you more than Giovanni.' Mewtwo grumbled before sitting back down.
"Snom. Omsnom." Snom said, still not deigning to look at the cat-man Pokémon and instead working on rolling a snowball on the carpet, made out of his Powder Snow.
I had never seen the legendary look so offended in his life, but it was quickly taken over by a fierce sneer of contempt.
'Begone from my sight.' He said before his eyes glowed ominously and my vision whited out. And so, the two of us were teleported out of the living room.
"Wow, I think you really pissed him off this time, Snom." I said to the little grub.
"Snom." The insect answered, before hopping on the snowball he made and rolling away. He made it about five feet before hitting the wall at the corner and falling off. Then he hopped back on and rolled down the other way, before a 'thump' rang out from just past the turn.
"I can never get a read on that guy," I said to myself as I watched him roll over and under the snowball down the hallway.
Zzzzrt, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Fishing it out, I thumbed over to the text messages, seeing the new message.
Hey. Amy had sent.
I waited a few minutes to see if there was anything else. Nope, her hatred of words extended to the written ones as well.
Words, use them, dude. I texted back.
No. I just sat there for a few moments, waiting again. It had sort of become a rhythm between the two of us these past few weeks.
This time, she did have a follow-up message.
Supervisor kicked me out cause of Thanksgiving next week. She explained, without doing any actually explaining.
Why? I texted back. I was a little confused. There didn't seem to be rhyme or reason for kicking her out on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. The last Endbringer attack was back in October too, Leviathan running over some place in Indonesia. Amy didn't go to those, but most places tended to close, and the city basically became a museum for how quiet it got, which meant she didn't have much to do those days.
Friday will be a mess, gave me a break. Dad's idea, and ABB pushed over my hours. Oh yeah, Oni Lee blew up some poor dude's bagel shop, and Amy had to be called in halfway through class. Which sorta sucked now that I think about it, because there was a distinct lack of good bagel places in the Neo-Nazi capital of the Eastern Seaboard.
Maybe I can convince Mewtwo to blow Kaiser up? I have literally seen that 'mon almost kill someone over the last red bean bun when we go out to get dim sum. I pushed thoughts of food-related murder aside.
So, you wanna hang? I sent the grouchy healer as I walked towards my room and got ready to take a shower. It was weird having a new body, by the by. Not in a dismorphia sense, but like, I keep almost accidentally banging my hand and feet into things because my brain says they should be X length when instead they're longer by a couple of inches.
Why else would I be texting you, dumbass. You have no other friends. You exist to serve my boredom. I frowned. Mean. I definitely had friends. I think. I had Dean at least. I told her as much.
Hey. I have friends. I've got Stacey and Lacey. And Dean. Dean's cool. I answered back. I then dropped the phone, and started getting ready.
I could hear the essay that Amy was texting while in the shower, but it wasn't really the focus of my attention. I was more focused on getting ready for the day. Personal hygiene and care was the easiest way to make a good impression lads. Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed and ready to head out.
I checked my phone before heading out.
Woah.
I don't think Stacey or Lacey were trying to get in my pants, but Amy sure did. She sent me a whole paragraph on why they were both 'shallow bitches' and their various health habits, and why they were gross.
She also told me Dean's a humongous moron, but that sort of undermined her whole argument, because as far as I'm aware, Dean was on the honour roll and was a straight A student. With an after-school job at the government-sponsored superhero team. Sure, I had outsider knowledge, but I think Dean was literally talked about in source material maybe twice before he died? I don't remember. Either way, he was a pretty cool guy. Terrible at arcade games, though.
Ames, stop being a meanie. : ( I sent an emoji back. I watched as the three '...' indicated Amy's frantic typing. She clearly typed something out and deleted it, repeating the cycle over the next fifteen minutes before finally deciding on something to say. Man, the teenage brain sure does wonders. If I weren't attracted to Amy, I'd probably find her venomous attitude a bit much. Buuuut…
It's sort of cute. Especially when you know she doesn't really mean it. Sure, she probably doesn't like Dean, Lacey or Stacey, but she's the same grouch with them at lunch that she is with me and Vicky.
I'm not being mean, you dumb golden retriever. I'm trying to help. You don't know where those two have been. Dean, too. She eventually sent. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not jealousy. We're not really close enough for that. Or at least, not romantic jealousy. It sort of reminds me of when I was a kid and the other kids would get mad whenever the cool older kids wouldn't hang out with them.
Sorry, bad connection, I'm getting on a bus. Can't-read-saying. I jotted out before sending. And teleporting to an alleyway next to the bus stop.
Are you pretending to lose connection over text!!!?!?! Fine, whatever. Meet me at our usual place. The grouch sent back. I can see her wrinkled nose now. It's adorable.
I sent her a thumbs up, which I knew would get her riled up. Amy hates them, despite hating having to type words out too.
The 'usual place' being the hospital. Well, specifically, the bus stop that's a block or two away.
That meant I had to participate in the worst experience Brockton Bay had to offer. The public bus system.
Now, don't get me wrong. As far as public transport goes, it's functional, well funded, and the Mayor isn't an asshole and siphoning money from it into vanity projects. It's just that… getting on a Brockton Bay bus meant you had to share a small metal box with a bunch of other Brockton Bay people. Most of them, were normal downtrodden city-goers in a place where the money and economy aren't really flowing properly.
Like Detroit citizens.
The minority bus riders? They were the much less normal people. Like this guy, who just plopped down in the back next to me, and spread his arms across the whole bench while spreading his legs.
He was a tall buff dude with a dirty blonde mullet, green eyes, and a scarred face. To match his grizzled appearance, he wore only a metal-studded leather jacket up top, showing off his torn up wife-beater, and capped the entire ensemble off with a pair of ripped jeans and a pair of work boots. Urban red neck, if you wanted to put a descriptor to it.
I turned back to my phone, making sure not to make eye contact with the crazy person. That was how you got stabbed on the subway, and I was not about to make that kind of mistake, even if I could probably survive.
"Hey." He started a conversation. God damn it. I was probably going to get stabbed today. Mewtwo, help me.
Die. He sent me telepathically. I felt the connection violently shut off.
Okay, guess he was still pissed from this morning when Snom called him a pussy. Maybe Amy wouldn't mind stitching up my bleeding torso with her powers. Aura could get me through a thirty-minute bus ride while bleeding from stab wounds, right?
"Hello." I said evenly, making sure to keep my gaze on my phone. The sixth sense that trainers developed with Aura told me he was staring into the side of my head.
"I know you from somewhere?" He drawled out. I couldn't really place his accent, but it definitely wasn't pure northeastern. It had some twang to it, like a Tennessee country star. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. On a full bus. With no smoking prominently on the signage.
I don't think anyone was going to stop him, though, because that meant they'd also be embroiled in this slowly spiralling conversation with a crazy person.
"Never met you in my life, guy." I wasn't about to acknowledge any possible connection to this dude. I liked the cops not paying attention to where I lived, thank you. I was about 90% sure this guy was some druglord's muscle at this point. Sorta hard to ignore the flashing signs like the literal wad of cash I saw in his jacket pocket as he pulled out his pack of smokes.
"No, I've definitely seen you - Damn, it's just on the tip of my tongue…" He trailed off as he started snapping his fingers, trying to jog his memory. I stayed silent as he chewed on the filter of his cigarette for a few moments, working it as he dug into his thoughts.
"Shit, I remember now. You're the kid that Josh said beat that druggie trash a few weeks back. Ain't often I've seen someone with the guts to take his fists into a gunfight." He complimented. I was still studiously looking at my phone, but I'm pretty sure he was smiling.
Something about his tone and phrasing seemed really familiar now that I thought about it. I scrolled through a couple of random PHO posts as he chattered on. It hit me around the time I was reading a new capefic about Armsmaster and Dragon called 'Canadian Girlfriend'.
Oh no.
Oh noooo.
He was using 'druggie' in place of a slur.
I was sitting next to a Nazi. Again. For like, the third or fourth time. This happened way too often for some podunk city in Maryland, but here we are.
I bemoaned my horrendous luck. Fate was wonky for protagonists, but I was anything but. What did I do to deserve this kind of attention?
Uuuuuugh. What a terrible day to be alive.
And, to top it all off, the guy hadn't stopped talking.
"So, how'd it feel? Breaking his bones with your bare hands. Cause let me tell you, they say a man ain't a man til he's had a woman, but I say you don't become a man til you crack your first rib. It's got this weird kind of give to it, like -" The man waxed poetic on bone breaking as I tried my best to figure out what the fuck was happening. Eventually, I bit the bullet and talked back, because good Mewtwo above, it was somehow more uncomfortable ignoring him. Cause then I'd be tainted by association.
"Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I barely wrestled the gun away from the guy and got shot for my troubles. The only one who actually did anything was Panacea." I shut down the conversation as hard as possible, hoping the guy would get the hint.
He did not.
"Yeah, yeah. Need to wave the flag for New Wave. Prissy bunch, but they're the good kind of heroes, at least. I get ya. Still, fighting the good fight and getting scars? Now that's a tale to tell your kids. Hell, I'd love to hear it myself. There's this old pub-" The bus lurched to a stop. I jumped out of my seat and walked to the front. Screw a twenty-minute bus ride. I'll just fucking teleport with my bullshit portal powers.
This is why I wanted Psychic-type teleportation. So I didn't have to pretend to ride the bus anymore.
Nothing good comes of riding the bus.
I pointedly ignored him waving me off like an old friend that he would meet again.
"Alright, seems like you're busy. I'll catch up with you later." He hollered as I made my way down the steps. I brushed past the few other people who had to ride a bus on a Sunday afternoon, trying to find an alley to duck into so I could open a portal.
Out of morbid curiosity, as I headed down the street, I did a surface scan with my telepathy.
Nice kid. Should invite him to one of Justin's barbecues. Tammy could use a boy to pull that stick out of her ass.
I shuddered. No, thank you.
Looks like Gible was going to be pulling double duty as guard Pokémon for the next few weeks.
He could use the exercise. He was getting chubby from all the hot dogs.
\-\
Amy opened the door and stepped into the cafe that was the actual 'usual place'. It was literally the first thing you saw when you stepped off the bus on this route, and the hospital was a fan. It had expensive coffee, expensive cakes, and a bookish atmosphere.
The healer hated it.
Give her a bag of cheesy fries, a soda, and a break room over it any day. At least then she wouldn't be stared at. She did her best to keep her frown off her face, biting her lips so it looked like she was at least neutral.
She made her way to Marcus, who was sitting at a two-person table, and like always, somehow beat her here despite being a thirty-minute bus ride. He looked deeply troubled. Knowing him, though, the cause was definitely something deeply stupid.
"Hey." The brunette said as she sat down, careful to fold her robes so that they didn't get caught on the impractical coffeehouse chair.
"Hey." He said back. Amy waited a moment.
"Ames, am I a Nazi?" There it was.
"God damn it, Marcus. I just sat down. Who the hell starts a conversation like that?" She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she tried to decipher his nonsense. What in the world could have happened for him to think something this ridiculous?
Because the chance that Marcus, the loveable goofball that he was, harboured secretive feelings for the worst part of German history was unthinkable. She'd once seen him give half his sandwich to a homeless guy because he 'felt bad'. The guy wasn't even begging; he was just asking for directions.
"Alright," she sighed, "walk me through it."
"Okay, so, for some reason, Nazis keep coming on to me. Am I giving off a weird vibe? I just had a bus ride with a dude who wanted to hear how it felt to break the bones of that guy at the convenience store." Amy rubbed the bridge of her nose. This was going to be a long conversation. The worst part was that he seemed to be genuinely panicking about coming off as a racist so she couldn't even blow him off.
Man, who knew being friends meant you had to be around for the annoying stuff too.
"Look, there are a lot of weird people in Brockton. Are you sure you didn't misread the whole thing?" She reasoned, hoping against hope that Marcus' dumb luck would prove her right.
"Ames, he had a mullet. And talked about how New Wave was of the 'good kind'." Amy reevaluated the situation. Yeah, chances are that in this city, that was a born and bred Neo-Nazi. There just really weren't many people who used phrases like that since Kaiser and his loonies said that shit all the time. Their rhetoric was not subtle.
"Besides, this is like the fourth time it happened. I'm starting to get worried." He said, biting his lip.
"Fourth?!" Amy almost screeched; the only thing stopping her was the waiter coming by with the menus. Marcus nodded as he gave the woman both their regular orders. A pressed ham, cheese, and egg sandwich, and a yoghurt with coffee.
"Yeah, the first time with that cop, this lady I met at the grocery store who thought I would be a good influence on her stepson, that guy who helped me change my tire, and now bus weirdo. Four." Marcus rattled off, raising his fingers one by one as he recounted each instance. He then went in detail, as apparently each person had the self-awareness of a brick, and tried to signal their obvious racial bias to him.
As he talked, she could only think that somehow, the E88 had replaced their dog whistles with train whistles, because they could not have made it more obvious. Also, three capes!
"Are you telling me that you met Purity, Victor, and Hookwolf, while just walking around the city?!" Amy hissed at her friend. Oh, the unwritten rules were a thing, but Amy was also the healer and she'd met the villains when they snuck themselves into the hospital unmasked for treatment. Which was all kinds of insulting considering they had a healer in their own ranks. Amy just assumed Kaiser was doing it as some kind of stupid power play, considering they were all listed as 'Workplace Accidents.'
"Are you telling me Hookwolf has a mullet and people are still scared of him?" Amy tried her best to ignore her friend's focus on the wrong subject.
Secretly, she agreed deep in her heart that Hookwolf's mullet was the kind of bad decision that you could only make while suffering from severe and repeated head trauma. There were good mullets, bad mullets, and then his monstrosity.
"Yes, because his mullet doesn't stop him from turning into five hundred pounds of moving human blender." She pointed out the obvious. The blonde, remembering who exactly they were talking about, blanched.
"Right. Forgot he could do that. He just seemed so lame while I was talking to him. Like one of those edgy kids who thinks skull tattoos are cool."
Amy sighed again.
"Look, if you want, you can use me as an excuse. One of the few benefits of being an open cape. As long as you don't meet them when they're masked up, they shouldn't be able to muscle in if you tell them that you're meeting me or we're hanging out or something." Amy grumbled. She hated using her cape rep for things, but if it was to protect her friend - well, there was hardly any choice at all. Half the reason Arcadia basically saw no crime on campus was that the PRT and Protectorate all but put up a giant sign saying that the Wards went there.
Marcus' face softened.
"Ames, you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself." Amy raised a single non-believing brow.
He held up both hands in surrender at the sheer power of her unvoiced skepticism.
"No, seriously! I'm not useless. Just trust me a bit?" He protested her unrelenting stare.
"I know, but… these people are dangerous Marcus. I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you and I could have stopped it." She was honest. It wasn't her first time battling with this feeling, given both her nature and her power, but it was certainly the first time she had felt it in this way. This wasn't about Panacea, the touch-based healer that could heal anything. This was about what Amy could do. And Amy, could use the rep of her cape persona for more than just good New Wave PR or donations.
Marcus didn't need healing. He was biologically perfect, she had verified that herself. He just needed an excuse, a quick way to get himself out of these confrontations. Something she could fulfill with little effort, and screw Carol if she thought this was abusing her status. Amy would rather not have another Fleur if she could help it.
"Alright. I get you Ames. If it gets weird, I'll name drop you. Cross my heart, hope to die." The goofball said, gesturing a tiny cross on his left side.
Amy sighed.
"The goal is so that you don't die, moron. Now, let's get out of here." The healer was starting to get annoyed with the amount of phones pointed their way. It wasn't the first time she hung out with Marcus in public, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but she could definitely do without the gawking onlookers. The worst part was that her sister and cousins didn't get nearly as much attention. No, it had to be the miracle healer who people wrongly associated with kindness in their fantasy addled brains.
The brunette was starting to hope that every server that hosted Parahumans Online was toasted by Behemoth. Having to actively defend herself from accusations and weirdos about 'not remaining pure' or whatever the fuck was starting to get tiring. Just because she dressed in all white didn't make her a fucking nun!
It wasn't like they were like that, anyway. The girl was certain about her sexuality. Even if she had taken a peek here or there at the fanart that had sprung up, it was mostly out of curiosity.
"-so that sound good to you?" Marcus asked as Amy was spaced out. The girl blinked for a few moments before trying to process the conversation that went in one ear and out the other.
"Um, yeah, but why a pet store? I mean, you said you had a lot of them, not that I've ever seen any…" Amy muttered her agreement. Now that she thought about it, Marcus didn't really seem like an exotic pet owner. He didn't have weird smells or animal residue on him that would come from handling those kinds of animals.
Though, she did note that he did have some weird scarring here or there that was sort of masked by his vitality. Weird marks that looked like he was bitten by a half-grown shark or a licthenberg figure that had grown in the same color as his skin. He brushed those off as bad experiences with a petting zoo as a kid, which made it even weirder that he got into animal handling.
"Ha, yeah. They don't really do good with new people. I… okay. If you really want to know, we can do that instead. Meet my pets. Just uh, it'll be pretty eye opening." He soft-balled to her. It was pretty clear Marcus didn't want her to meet them yet, so she'll do the nice thing. The friendly thing. And trust him until he trusted her.
"Marcus, it's not that big of a deal. I can wait. Not like either of us are going anywhere anytime soon." In all honesty, the likelihood of Marcus outliving his entire generation and the following one was pretty high. She sort of wondered if that was why he latched onto having pets. So he wouldn't be lonely at the end.
Amy shook those depressing thoughts out of her head. No, he probably just did it because they were cute. The living miracle didn't even know about his 'power' before she told him.
"Right. Not going anywhere…" Marcus said while looking away. She elbowed him in the side. It wouldn't do for him to get distracted now. He was the planner of their outings. Amy wouldn't know what to do for fun even if Scion walked up to her and asked for ideas.
"Come on, if this is just you running errands, I don't mind, but I would like to know at least." She asked the boy whose mood had taken a sudden downturn. Like a switch, he flipped back to his normal self. It was a familiar scene, but unlike her dad, she knew for a fact that Marcus was happy.
It exuded from every step he took, from every action he made. Marcus was happy to be alive, and to have friends. The most astounding thing, was that he was happy with her, his neurons turned into mini fireworks whenever she grabbed his hand or arm.
"So, you described to me your power right? It gives you information, a blueprint, all these little details… how many animals have you pet since you got your power?" The blonde explained, his eyes curving into small smiles that matched his conspiratorial grin.
Amy gave the question some thought.
"Actually, now that you mention it. I don't think I've done anything besides pet a dog for a few seconds." It was at some half-remembered charity event, there was a gentleman with a seeing-eye dog and she'd gotten to pet it because Vicky had asked. Animals were pretty rare in a city like Brockton, and the less said about the fish situation, the better.
It was soft and felt nice, but she didn't really activate her power to do any kind of investigation into its health.
"Well, buckle up then. We're heading to the biggest pet store in Brockton." He exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"There's only one pet store in Brockton." She said blithely. A big box chain store that was basically a onestop shop warehouse for pets. There were small mom and pop things, but none of those qualified as the biggest. Well, except for an old exotic fish shop that was rennovated into an aquarium after the advent of Leviathan according to her mom.
They still sold fish sometimes but it was… pricey, even for the Boardwalk. And she doubted she'd get to pet any of them anyways, even if she could probably get away with it. Carol would kill her.
"Okay, but still, aren't you excited?" He asked, enthusiasm at full brim despite the rain Amy dropped on his parade. Seeing his dumb smile, Amy couldn't help but smile a little bit herself. It was nice to have someone who thought of her as something besides a healer.
"A little." She teased. Marcus whooped like he won the Olympics.
\-\
"Woah… bird bones are so weird…" Amy muttered her hand lightly stroking a parakeet as it ate seeds out of her other palm.
"They're so light, but like, still pretty structurally sound from certain angles. Humans with these kinds of bones could probably jump like fifteen vertical feet with no issues. And we'd only lose some durability thanks to the different base density…" She mumbled, eyes glazed over as she stared at something that only she could see. I mentally gave a huge sigh of relief. When I first came up with this plan, it seemed like a good idea.
Then Mewtwo poked every hole he could in it. Starting with the fact that capitalism didn't tend to mix well with ethical care of animals. Thankfully, whether it was the manager, or regional owner, or by virtue of being basically the only game in town besides some specialty stores, the worst Amy found about any of the animals was some common fungus or 'common cold' that was already getting cleared up by antibiotics.
We'd already made our way through the fish, since Amy wasn't really allowed to touch anything except for some particularly large specimens. Which the manager was only doing as a favor since he was a big fan of her work. Superhero privilege, am I right?
I pet my own bird. It nipped my finger.
'Damn parakeets. This is why Staraptors are the superior bird species, you green fluffy bastards!' I mentally berated the non-sapient loser bird. I put it back in its cage and rubbed my pinched skin. This is why unless your bird can do Aerial Ace, I'm not interested. I glared at it as it ignored my hate and started drinking water.
"Hmph. Heheheh." Amy giggled, having come to awareness just in time to see my humiliation. I couldn't stop myself from pouting, but I was still pretty happy. Seeing her actually enjoy herself… well, I fell into the trap of every teenage boy since the dawn of time.
Her brown hair went from frizzy to a bit more curly, she grew a couple of inches, and instead of her casual clothes that she threw her cloak over, I imagined her in an actual blouse and pants, lab coat over her shoulders instead. Of course, this was combined with a different scenery.
An apartment, shared between two people, as we went to college. Me studying whatever combination of humanities and sciences that would be advantageous, and Amy happy with herself and learning to be a doctor - so that she could proudly say she earned her honorary title.
In short, my mind flew to the future in those few seconds, as I stared at the girl I was starting to genuinely care for.
I then threw it away as quickly as it came.
That wasn't what I was here for after all. A good time and a short time. Building a life? Well, that was for whoever Amy decided to settle down with.
I was just supposed to be a good memory in the grand scheme of things.
"Hey, wanna check out the iguanas next?" I asked the girl, who had been using face muscles that she probably long thought had atrophied.
"Of course." Amy preened, settling her own parakeet in its cage, who trilled in goodbye. I side-eyed mine who was still eating seed like I wasn't a prospective owner who would give it a better life.
Fucking birds. I'm getting a Mega Staraptor and showing them what for. They've had it too good for too long. Let's see them ignore me with two hundred and thirty pounds of super-fast, super-strong raptor.
The back of Amy's palm smacked my arm.
"Stop scheming against the parakeets. Not everyone has to like you, you know."
I was about to say a scathing remark against all of parakeet kind, until I was interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Hey, that you, Marcus, Amy?" Dean asked as he walked past the previous aisle and waved at me. He had a cart with a large bag of dog food and two bags of cat food.
I watched as that smile I cultivated with so much effort slipped into a passive-aggressive resting bitch face. I audibly sighed before turning back to the unfortunate guy. It wasn't his fault that he was dating the object of Ames' obsession. Technically.
"Damn, man you have some terrible timing." I said straight to his face. This threw him for a loop, because he went from slightly curious, to moderately confused.
"I'm sorry?" He offered, not even sure what he was apologizing for.
"I can't believe you think he's cool." Amy muttered to herself, pulling out her phone and politely ignoring the other blonde teen.
"He is cool. It's not his fault all his luck was stolen by the cruel god of this world." I half-heartedly defend the teen. Dean was a nice guy. Just a poor, genuinely unlucky sod based on how his Leviathan fight went, according to the diceroll by author.
"Thanks? I think?" Dean said, still attempting to gather himself. I pat him on the back in commiseration. Sometimes, bad things just happened to good people. Like the most powerful bio-kinetic on the planet hating your guts because you're dating her sister and interrupted a 'date' that she actually liked. By accident.
"You're welcome." I didn't really click with the other Wards in their civilian guises - though to be fair I'd only met Clockblocker and Kid Win. They came off as immature. Not in an insulting way, but hanging around Amy sort of threw off my barometer. They weren't seasoned the same way she was.
They were heroes, understanding all that it entailed, but they didn't see it as a lifestyle. Can't really blame them. I wasn't much better, even with foreknowledge, and a decade of memories on them. It was the weird little things. All the other kids bought lunch every day. Amy didn't, because she usually made a few sandwiches so that she'd have a free hand to fill out paperwork or homework while eating.
Unhealthy, but I can't say I didn't do the same when working. Eating at your desk while answering emails is a routine standard for most white collar work. Really shows you've 'made it'.
"Anyways, it was nice catching up, but Ames and I are going to see the lizards. We can hang out later. I still need to pay you back for that thing in October." I said to the other boy. Dean waved it off.
"Nah, don't worry about it. My dad and mom were more than happy to have you over." The Ward said, playing it off as no big deal.
"If you're sure, I mean, letting me stay at your house while my place got bug bombed-" I started before being cut off by Ames.
"I'm sorry, what? You've met Dean's parents?" She said, none of her usual acid in her voice. It was instead replaced by an eerie calm.
"Yeah, back in October me and my roommate had termites and ants. Place had to get tented. I could have got a hotel, but after I asked, Dean said I could stay at his place." I explained. Last time I ever told Snom to use Bug Buzz. For whatever reason, normal bugs swarmed when they heard the move.
"And you let him? After only knowing him for only a few weeks?" Amy interrogated the teen. Dean shrugged.
"I mean, we hung out before that. So it's not like my parents didn't know him. Plus, it was going to cost him around a grand for a hotel, not to mention trying to get to school. It was a little weird how fast my dad warmed up to you, though. He took a bit to get used to Carlos and Dennis." The empath said, rubbing his chin in thought. Eh, that was probably because Carlos and Dennis couldn't make conversation with a rich guy who was head of his own real estate business. I didn't have much to talk about either, but I was good at office small talk.
"Hey, you wanna meet my family? We can set an extra plate for Thanksgiving. I'd hate to see you have to spend it alone." Amy broke in with a non-sequiter. I stalled for a minute. That was very much out of left field. But, I rolled with the punches. I was wondering what New Wave was like in person.
"Sure, do I need to bring anything?" I asked the girl. Amy lit up, perhaps about half as happy as she was earlier. Dean just stared at me like I was some kind of madman. I met his wide-eyes and shallow frown with a questioning look.
"What? It's just Thanksgiving, man." As dumb as I sometimes was, I was not oblique enough to ignore the subtext. But, I was also completely aware of my own stance in Amy's eyes. This was a friend thing, not a girlfriend thing.
I think.
"Yeah, no need to be so worried, Dean. It's just a dinner. And, bring whatever you want. But, nothing you'd consider a Thanksgiving staple. Uncle Neil goes all out and invites us over. He does a whole deep fried turkey, stuffing, casserole, the works." Hmm, well that narrowed down my options. I was going to go with something American, but… there was a large Asian district in this city, so it wasn't like I was out of choices.
Besides, how hard could it be to get a few to-go boxes of roast duck or meat buns?
"So, plans for next week settled, iguanas?" I asked the girl, gesturing down the aisle.
"Nah, I think I got enough of lizards for now. Let's go see the dogs." Amy said, shooting the still somewhat confused teen hero a stink-eye.
"Ames, stop being mean." I groaned as we walked away. Calling Dean a lizardperson was not cool. Rich, yes. Politically connected, also yes. But he was very much a normal teen parahuman.
"Um, okay. See you guys at school, or whatever?" Dean waved at us before backing away, likely filing that entire interaction away as something he'd probably try to figure out never.
The dogs were nice, and, surprisingly, I did not run into Rachel Lindt.
I think I made up for it by running into Oni Lee at the Chinese grocer though.
\-\
A/N: So, is Amy jelly? Maybe. Maybe not. All she knows is that she must one up Dean to consider herself a true friend of Marcus.
That's right boys, Amy's entire motivation for advancing her relationship (platonic) is to one up Dean.
Selfishness and Spite, the true character growth of Amy Dallon.
So, one of the funny things I thought up about this Arc, is to end it at Leviathan. Leviathan literally kills the Worm Arc of this fic. It's pretty ironic how sick people are of origin stories, but no one really wants to write past Taylor's origin story. A little goofy when you think about it. Especially considering most fanfics are only about origin stories.
I think Naruto, the original series not Shippuden, probably has tons of more fics in that setting, despite people doing shit like aging the characters up.
I'm not entirely set on the Leviathan thing ending the arc, it might even happen earlier. Or a bit later. I just thought it'd be really funny.
Revised A/N: Sorry, I have been sidetracked by the FGO JP finale. The copium people have been huffing is powering my hype for when Nasu reveals his true creative genius, and shows us on New Years that the only extra thing he had planned was a Tiger Dojo style bad ending review, berating the players for trying to prolong it. And as part of the joke (but secretly real), announces he is starting part 3 to get the hype train rolling.
And then we all just look around unable to tell if he's fucking with us or not.