He watched as the grumpy healer left the room in a noticeably brighter mood. He hadn't expected his healing to affect her as it did Alec, since he'd kept it subtle. He didn't want accusations of mastering Panacea, of all people, spreading around. Honestly, he shouldn't have offered at all, but that girl was truly running herself to the bone.
She didn't crack until much later, when the Slaughterhouse Nine shattered her world, but that was in a different reality. He couldn't rely on her remaining safe and somewhat mentally sound until then. The timeline was doomed to fail with his existence, and his actions had already flipped the board. So, he wasn't willing to leave her stewing in her emotions alone until that point.
Not because he cared for her, or even because the world desperately needed Panacea, but because he wanted to fucking live. If she cracked and fell apart, God knows what she might do. He liked his skin as it was, and a plague that melted organic material was only moments away if she snapped.
That was just one of many ways he envisioned himself dying if Amy succumbed to the Shaper's prodding and went off the deep end. So, it was in his best interest that she didn't jump off that cliff. There was also the point total he could gain by steering her away from her canon path.
He planned to treat her rather desperate dependency slowly over the coming months. Escalation might be a core concept of Worm, but a slow and steady approach would be far better here. Changing Alec from his emotionless doll state was fine because, ultimately, the guy was a mook. But Amy? Well, she was one of the most powerful people on the planet.
She was certainly someone who could wipe a city off the map with minimal effort. Biological manipulation was a power like no other when it came to destroying humanity.
He was near-immortal with RCT and the Singularity aspect of his Body Double, but a plague on humanity could still take him out. He couldn't fight something he wasn't prepared for, after all.
So, Operation Fix-The-Basket-Case was only overshadowed by his need to find an answer to the Warrior. He still had the Deck of Many Things, which hadn't vanished after Coil's death, but that was always a gamble. He'd only risked it with Coil to test if his power could sidestep the consequences.
Running another gamble with a mind-controlled mook might turn out even worse. So, the Deck would stay sidelined until he felt confident enough to use it or things reached a point of no return, and he needed a fucking miracle.
"You shouldn't have offered to heal her," Armsmaster said from the side, a frown creasing his face. Armsmaster had been clear about his disapproval of the healing earlier, though he'd stayed quiet. He hadn't spoken up then because of Cole's delicate situation, and denying the world's greatest healer support wasn't something he could do publicly.
Cole glanced at him, frowning briefly before sighing. "I know, the emotional aspect of my healing is a flaw, but you saw her. She looked moments away from collapsing, running on spite and coffee alone is not a way to live. I couldn't leave her like that. She deserves the world for all the good she does," Cole said, looking away from Armsmaster.
Silence hung between them as Armsmaster processed his words. Then, he let out a sigh of his own. "You're not the first to worry about her, but Panacea isn't PRT, so there's little we can do. Brandish would have our heads if given the chance, and any situation with Panacea is delicate given her position," Armsmaster said, frustration clear in his tone.
Cole blinked beneath his mask, staring at the man for a moment. He hadn't realized the PRT was aware of how ragged Panacea was, but it made sense. Anyone with eyes could see Amy wasn't in a great place, yet his canon-tinted assumptions had skewed his perception of the situation.
He'd never considered the delicate balance the PRT had to maintain with independent capes, but it was a real problem. Despite knowing things were heading in a bad direction with Panacea, they couldn't act.
"Well, it's good that I'm not technically part of the PRT yet. So, my healing her now can't be held over us," Cole said, meeting Armsmaster's gaze.
A tense moment passed as they locked eyes, but eventually, Armsmaster nodded. "That won't work forever, but it does for now. Were you able to gauge her current state, or does your power just heal without diagnosing the issues?" he asked quietly.
Cole raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. He'd expected Armsmaster to take a hands-off approach again, but this showed the PRT's pragmatism. They wouldn't ignore information that fell into their laps. Cole looked into the distance, as if pondering.
"It's a mixed bag. I sense what's wrong in a general way. There was some wear and tear from neglecting her body, but she's mostly fine, even if she's running on coffee alone by now," Cole said after a pause.
He'd learned more than that. Her brain chemistry was a fucking mess, and he'd downplayed the extent of the wear and tear, but he wasn't going to snitch too much. He respected the PRT's firmer stance, but revealing exactly how bad Panacea was would stir up drama that could tip the scales for her.
The exploitative environment she'd grown up in and the mess from Glory Girl's aura would be a storm. Disrupting that delicate balance would only cause more problems for her—and, more importantly, for him.
So, it was easier to take a step back, even if the PRT had an inkling of how bad things were. They had a better gauge of her emotional state through Dean. It was ironic—Dean worried about her but didn't even scratch the surface of how messed up she was.
The boy thought he could handle it, which was a fucking joke, considering he was one of the forces driving her misery. Though, blaming him for her feelings would be foolish.
Even without Dean's relationship with her sister, Amy would still be in this mess. Sure, there might be less envy, but the self-loathing and desperate longing she felt would still burn brightly.
Armsmaster absorbed Cole's words and nodded, as if expecting such an answer. He looked at Cole differently now, the innocent, nervous teen facade slowly fading. It was becoming noticeable.
Cole didn't think he was acting too out of character. Teenagers could be fickle, and spite often pushed them out of their shells. His shift from nerves to frankness could be chalked up to irritation from the earlier mess, but he should tone it down. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the image he was selling.
"The troopers brought your friend here. I imagine you want to see her now," Armsmaster said after a moment, staring into the distance. His equipment was convenient, letting him communicate with the PRT seamlessly.
Cole kind of wanted something similar, but the bulky helmet would be irritating, and the tech required would be a hassle. He wasn't a Tinker like Armsmaster, and while most functions could use standard tech, combining it would be frustrating.
Whatever, equipment could wait. It was time to meet Tammi. They had a plan, but things could get complicated.
"Great, having her safe is… well, it's reassuring," Cole said awkwardly, looking at Armsmaster, waiting for him to lead the way.
The older man looked at Cole and smiled in a way meant to be friendly but came off stiff. "She's in the safest place possible right now. The PRT can protect her from the Empire's grasp, and she won't have to hide, fearing the day she's caught," Armsmaster said as he walked through the halls, Cole trailing behind.
Cole's lips twitched. Armsmaster was pitching the PRT as his best option, clearly aware that Cole and Tammi were valuable. He wanted to paint the PRT in the best light, even if Cole had few alternatives. There was also the unspoken words in the air, that she could be put away just as quickly if they did not comply.
Honestly, they did not have to worry too much. The PRT was the only group that could secure Tammi a pardon for her crimes and shield her from the Empire's forced recruitment.
That wasn't guaranteed, as the Empire likely knew his identity, but it was manageable. The Empire was stronger than the local PRT branch, but they knew touching a Ward would bring the main branch down like a hammer.
No one wanted Eidolon or Legend strolling in to clean house. So, his new Ward status would protect them, mostly. Even if he'd face more propaganda from his father.
They couldn't even threaten his father's life, as that would also threaten a Ward.
As they navigated the many hallways, Cole was reminded of Coil's base. The long, featureless corridors were designed to confuse invaders. While not as labyrinthine as Coil's underground sprawl, the PRT's layout served a similar purpose.
Armsmaster didn't seem to be leading him in circles, at least. The path felt straightforward, implying a degree of trust Cole appreciated.
Finally, they reached a door, and Armsmaster opened it. Inside, Tammi sat nervously at a desk, a cup of something in front of her. Vista was at the same table, trying to chat with the fellow blonde but struggling.
When they entered, Tammi's eyes snapped to the door, her nervous expression vanishing. She leapt up, rushing to Cole and enveloping him in a tight hug.
He returned it instinctively.
"Cole!" she shouted, joy in her voice as she buried her head in his chest. He sighed softly, holding her close and stroking her back to calm her. This wasn't part of the plan, but it wasn't an issue.
The PRT knew how much Cole cared for Tammi, and her displaying the same affection would ease their concerns. He glanced at the others to gauge their reactions.
Armsmaster watched them, seemingly uninterested. Vista looked startled by the hug but seemed fine, though her smile was overly tight. She must've struggled to bond with Tammi if she was wearing such a polite mask. Odd, given what Cole knew about Tammi.
"It's okay, Tammi. We don't have to worry anymore," he murmured into her hair, resting his chin on her head. She flushed brighter but snuggled deeper into his chest.
He figured it was best to sell the image of relying on the PRT. Glancing to gauge reactions, he felt confused—Vista's smile tightened further, which made no sense to him.
------
41
Before, Cole had thought the tedious, redundant tests he'd endured were the epitome of silent rooms, unchallenged in their oppressive quiet. He was wrong. This room could give that silence a run for its money.
Everyone sat awkwardly around the table, striving to remain as silent as possible. Armsmaster, stoic as ever, gave Tammi and Cole space to adjust to the PRT's looming presence. Tammi, basking in Cole's proximity, seemed content to ignore the others, her focus solely on him. Cole, meanwhile, comforted Tammi while his mind juggled the plot he was orchestrating in the background, a delicate scheme that demanded his attention. Vista, though… he had no clue why she sat there, silently sporting a small, almost imperceptible pout.
Perhaps she resented being forced to socialize with strange teens to paint the PRT and Wards program in a favorable light. Being ordered by adult authority figures to make friends with specific people was rarely appreciated, especially by someone as spirited as Vista.
He might've put stock in that theory, but it didn't align with her earlier behavior. Before, she'd been a chatterbox, spilling whatever crossed her mind. Even when he entered the room, she'd been trying to talk to Tammi, struggling but clearly in a better mood than the sullen one she now displayed.
So, she shouldn't mind chatting with them, for the most part. The only difference between their earlier interactions and this moment was Tammi's need for comfort and attention. Was that it?
Was she pouting because of the affection on display? He wanted to dismiss the idea, but it made a twisted kind of sense. Vista was hopelessly trapped in a one-sided crush, doomed to go nowhere. The guy she liked had a girlfriend, and she was too young for him anyway.
Public displays of affection must've hit a sore spot. Cole opened his mouth to say something to her but stopped, dismissing the thought. He wasn't going to stop comforting Tammi, so Vista would have to endure the PDA for now. He could apologize later.
"So… how was Amy?" Vista asked, finally shattering the room's oppressive silence. She might've been pouting, but the quiet was clearly getting to her.
It made sense that the chatterbox would break first.
Tammi glanced at the younger girl briefly before returning her gaze to Cole. Cole looked at Vista, momentarily confused by the question. The small smile she wore when mentioning Amy's name seemed odd, but then it clicked.
Vista and Amy were sort of friends, bonded by a shared resentment of Vicky dating Dean, even if their reasons differed wildly. Cole's lips twitched as he pieced it together, but he shrugged it off. He wasn't going to leave Vista floundering awkwardly after she'd broken the silence.
"She probably needs a good nap, but she'll be fine for today. I didn't expect her to be so snarky, but it definitely suits her," Cole said after collecting his thoughts.
Vista let out a small giggle, a grin spreading across her face as she faced the blondes. "Yeah, Amy can be abrasive at the best of times. But she grows on you fast. I'd say she's snarky to keep vultures away, but she's prickly all on her own. Maybe it's all that coffee she drinks. I swear, one day she'll figure out how to replace her blood with pure espresso. Heck, she might've already started. She's probably consumed her body weight in coffee by now. Is she more coffee than girl at this point? Like the Ship of Theseus paradox?"
The words poured out like a machine gun now that she was in her element. Even Tammi paused her bids for attention, staring at the younger girl with her mouth slightly agape.
Cole glanced at Armsmaster to gauge his reaction to the verbal barrage, but the man wore the same blank expression, his visor glinting impassively under the fluorescent lights.
It was hard to read the guy. With the social skills of a goldfish, Armsmaster might see Vista's approach as reasonable. Or he could be irritated by the nonstop, nonsensical stream of chatter. He seemed like someone who valued directness, blunt to a fault and rarely mindful of others' feelings in conversation. Yet, there was a refreshing honesty to him.
Cole turned to Vista, intending to stem the verbal assault, but someone else beat him to it.
"You always this peppy, squirt?" Tammi asked, an intrigued look on her face laced with a familiar bite. Vista halted mid-sentence, mirroring the earlier scene, her mouth slightly open as she stared at Tammi.
That wouldn't last long. Cole could already see Vista's expression morphing into outrage and irritation. Tammi had stepped on a landmine, after all.
Cole shot his sort-of-girlfriend a bland look. She'd been soft and clingy lately, like a baby bear, soft enough that he'd almost forgotten her own abrasive edge. He should've known it wasn't gone—her conversation with Lisa hadn't exactly been gentle.
If Amy was snarky, Tammi crossed into deliberately insulting. Not the best way to make friends, but she'd never been out for that.
She'd given Cole the same bite when they first became friends, bossing him around, trying to mold him into an image she approved of. That faded once she truly knew him, revealing a genuine soft side—reserved for him alone, but it was there.
"Cool it, Tammi. Vista's great," Cole muttered softly, loud enough for the table to hear. He wasn't hiding it. He spoke quietly because he knew Tammi responded best to a gentle tone.
As if proving his point, she absorbed his words, swallowing the retort she'd been about to hurl at Vista. Instead, she huffed and huddled back into his side, draping most of her body against him as they sat side by side.
"She was just so peppy," Tammi muttered into his side, this time audible only to him—or so he thought, given the looks around the table.
Vista seemed briefly grateful for Cole's support, but then reverted to that stiff, polite smile. He didn't blame her—Tammi had broached the one topic Vista hated, after all.
"So, how are the rest of the Wards? I've met Gallant, and while we didn't hit it off, he seems okay. I've met you, Vista, and you're obviously great, but what about the others? Any taboos I should know before joining?" Cole asked, trying to steer the mood toward something productive.
"Rest assured, there's nothing to worry about in the Wards program. The kids get along and have each other's backs," Armsmaster said from the side, clearly aiming to quell Cole's concerns before they grew.
Vista's smile grew even stiffer, but she nodded as if Armsmaster's words were gospel. Figures she'd follow his lead, even if she clearly had her own thoughts.
Cole let out a snicker, drawing a frown from Armsmaster, though the man didn't ask what was funny.
"I figured the Wards were professional enough not to let feelings interfere with backing each other up. In combat, you need to trust the person next to you with your life. That's expected, and Vista clearly shows that professionalism in everything she does. But that's not what I meant."
"Egos clash, even among the calmest people. Mix traumatized, moody teens together, and there's bound to be issues to navigate or topics to avoid. Hell, some people just want their privacy and safe space. I need to know that beforehand, and I figure Vista knows the team's ins and outs better. Teens tend to hide stuff like that from the adults in charge."
Cole laid out his reasoning. While Armsmaster frowned, he seemed to grasp Cole's perspective. Tammi snorted, as if agreeing with every word, though she'd probably agree if he said the sky was green at this point.
Vista's reaction was mixed. When he called her a true professional, she brightened noticeably, but that faded quickly. She hesitated, glancing at Armsmaster before staying silent.
Armsmaster looked baffled by her hesitation and opened his mouth to question her, but Cole cut in. "See? Vista clearly has details she wants to share but doesn't want to contradict you. Mind leaving the room so she can speak freely?" Cole asked with a small smile.
Vista stared at Cole, stunned. Even Tammi gave him an odd look, not expecting him to be so direct.
Armsmaster seemed taken aback, but a glance at Vista confirmed Cole's point. The senior hero gave Cole a quiet, almost solemn look, then sighed and headed out, granting them privacy.
Cole had no doubt the room was still monitored, with Armsmaster likely patched in via his helmet. The hero wouldn't leave a Ward alone with two capes of questionable loyalty. They were confident in Cole's motives, but there was always a risk.
Monitoring Cole and Tammi wasn't going away anytime soon. But this wasn't about escaping surveillance. Asking Armsmaster to leave was a subtle signal: he could listen, but he shouldn't act on what was said, as he technically wasn't supposed to know.
Vista was blindsided when Armsmaster left, staring at the door he'd exited through with a dazed expression. Cole coughed to get her attention.
The cough snapped her out of it, and she faced the blonde duo with an odd look. "So, you gonna answer the question, Miss Yappy?" Tammi piped up, her biting tone persistent but expected. Vista caught on, ignoring the mockery, though Cole could tell she was gritting her teeth.
Cole gave Vista an encouraging look to ease her irritation and prompt her to share. She glanced between him and Tammi, frowning. "Everyone's great," she began, but Tammi cut her off.
"Bullshit. The Bay's full of trash, and even if it's better in the Wards since you're all 'heroes'—" Tammi air-quoted "heroes" with a smirk— "I refuse to believe there's no garbage floating around."
Vista bristled at the interruption and Tammi's bleak outlook, her eyes narrowing. "Tammi's being blunt, but she's used to seeing the Bay's worst. We grew up too close to the gangs, and neither of us liked how things were. We know how bad it gets. But you've been a hero long enough to know that too, even if you seem to come from the nicer parts of town," Cole said quickly, softening Tammi's edge.
He shot Tammi a look that screamed "cool it." He knew this was her default with strangers, but she was extra combative today. Tammi huffed, rolled her eyes, but mimed zipping her lips, which was something.
Vista looked away, trying to bore a hole in the wall near Cole's head as he spoke. A snort from Tammi drew her gaze, and she glared at Tammi with gritted teeth and a determined glint. That earned another snort and a snooty look from Tammi.
Cole was utterly baffled by their dynamic. What the fuck was going on? Tammi kept pushing, and while Vista was irritated, she didn't question the hostility's source. Before he could dwell on it, Vista tore her glare from Tammi and faced Cole.
"Really, everyone in the Wards is great. Kid Win can be nervous, and Clockblocker's annoying sometimes, but they try. Aegis is overprotective but nice," Vista said, listing her teammates with two notable omissions.
Gallant's absence made sense—they'd met—but Shadow Stalker's exclusion was telling.
"Right, so Shadow Stalker either has a stick up her ass so high she's a shish kebab, or she doesn't mesh with your peppy vibe. Which is it? Massive cunt or block of wood?" Tammi said, cutting through the subtext without hesitation.
Vista didn't flinch at the harsh words, nor did she sigh over the clearly touchy subject. "Can you please tell us about Shadow, Vista? I don't want to bash your teammate behind their back, but knowing what to avoid is useful," Cole said, aiming for reason.
Vista hesitated, glancing at Cole, then bit the bullet. "Shadow Stalker is very independent and doesn't talk unless it's about the mission," she said diplomatically, her words polished, likely from PRT training.
"So, she's a cunt. Good to know, short stuff," Tammi declared without a speck of hesitation. Vista glared at her but, even minutes later, didn't deny the assessment.
Now with a solid reason to steer clear of Shadow Stalker, Cole dropped the topic. Sophia would need a stellar lawyer by the end of this mess, Sadly for her she was stuck relying on Emma's father to bail her out of her own dumb decisions.
Alan Barnes while a lawyer was not any way capable of talking his way out of that mess.
He moved to shift the conversation, but his clone, working on a separate project, was in position. He needed one final piece to forge the lie he was spinning for the world. This plan conveniently fed into Kaito's need for attention and Cole's own need for greater strength, a delicate balance of chaos and control.
The PRT's information network was sharp—Vista's phone buzzed, likely with alerts about the chaotic situation his clone had stumbled into. She paused, reading the message, then looked at Cole with a flash of confusion before shrugging it off. He smiled blandly, urging her to relax.
"Stagehand's robbing a bank, of all things," Vista said, explaining the buzz, shooting Cole a truly strange look. He maintained his bland smile, feigning ignorance.
That smile faltered as new information hit him, forcing a double-take. Even after confirming, he was baffled.
How the hell did a routine robbery spiral into Oni Lee crashing the party, with Cricket and Stormtiger trying to strong-arm Stagehand into an offer he couldn't refuse?
Seriously, what the fuck?