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Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

F/F

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Other Relationship Tags to Be AddedAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Original Female Character(s)

Characters:

Amy Dallon | Panacea | Red QueenVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresOriginal Female Character(s)New Wave (Parahumans)Butcher (Parahumans)

Additional Tags:

TranshumanismCanon-Typical ViolenceNazi PunchingMental InstabilityPresentation!Eventual FluffThe slope is steep and well lubricatedTeenagersEventual Descent Into VillainyCanon-Typical Amy ProblemsShaper Pokes Amy With A StickThen Bludgeons Her Over The Head With ItRomanceHold My BeerFluff and AngstSlice of LifealmostLGBTQ ThemesBe gayDo Crime!Unreliable NarratorMagical Girls

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-12-10Updated:2025-07-19Words:141,038Chapters:33/?Comments:132Kudos:451Bookmarks:159Hits:29,480

Amelia Fulminate

Kathrine_von_Gilkira_Magnolia

Chapter 6: Þ - Greetings 1.6

Chapter Text

{Test bip, italics, bold, ¹²³}

Þ - Greetings 1.6

ƸÏƷ1.6

(Wednesday, November 17th, 2010)

Fifteen hours. Amy healed for Fifteen straight hours before she collapsed from exhaustion, like a fucking coward.

To one degree or another, she had healed almost two thousand people. Once she'd ran out of parahumans she would work on civilians until there were more parahumans. Once the fighting had stopped there were still plenty that needed to be pulled out of the irradiated rubble, and Amy was one of two capes there that could cure radiation poisoning. Once the S&R was finished there were still hundreds injured during, or because of, the evacuation and revacuation. And there was always just one more patient brought in front of her.

Then, between one life saving touch and the next, Amy blacked out. Blurry vision that had been ignored for so long in favour of her power's 'sight' finally winked out completely. She barely even noticed when her legs failed and her knees hit the floor. One last flex of exhausted will thickened the air between her head and the approaching floor, just in time to save her of any major injury.

Darkness, a calming voice saying wrong things. She clutched at her silk pillow as if holding on would help her.

The next thing Amy remembered was rolling around in an unfamiliar bed. It wasn't a very comfortable bed, taking function over form in a way that had her thinking of the hospital beds that she was by now so well acquainted with. She was so tired. She just wanted a nice bed to go back to sleep in, and something to take her mind off of whatever was currently frying it. Something like Kazumi.

"I wan mh kat," she mumbled angrily into the not fluffy sheets. Amy grabbed the sheets in all her many hands and tore the fibres out of their confines, turning the sheet into a much more fragile, but also more comfy, fluffy blanket. "Mm, th'sh bed'er," she said quietly, snuggling into the fixed covers.

"Ames, are you awake?" a familiar voice cut through the air, smooth like butter and as beautiful as any music Amy had ever heard. She almost got up then and there, so that she could find the source of the pretty voice. But she didn't, sleepiness won out in the end.

"Nyw. Shud ut, I'ma slep," she complained, rolling around to face away from the voice.

Vicky crossed her arms. "Amy, it's Wednesday, I think you've had enough sleep."

Wednesday? Wasn't the obsidian cunt on Sunday? Or was that New Zealand's Monday? Was she still in New Zealand? "Fuck, I lehf ma cat in th' oven." Amy cursed, opening her eyes and looking around the room. "Warez this?"

"Brockton Bay Central Hospital. Are you okay? We, um, don't have a cat, and if we did it certainly wouldn't be in the oven."

That knocked some sense back into Amy. She rubbed her eyes, eroding at the gunk until she remembered that she could just annihilate the rheum and scatter it into the air as dust. "Right, yeah, sorry. I remember… just a weird dream is all." Amy took a moment to yawn, stretching languidly as she did so. "Sow wwhhyiuu- *yawn* why is it Wednesday, last thing I remember it was… I honestly have no idea, but that's just timezones. My point is, well I guess at this point I don't have one, I can put two and two together. Fuck. This can't be healthy for me."

Vicky sighed. "I was really worried about you, Ames. The last time this happened you literally didn't recognise me when you woke up," she growled.

Amy at least had the grace to look ashamed. "I know, I was there, I remember, but I'm fine-"

"You're not fine!" Vicky snapped. "You were unconscious for almost sixty hours! People don't take that long to recover from 'just exhaustion'! We had- had you at home until yesterday, w-we had to move you because you needed food but weren't waking up. I- you- it's not fine," she cried, tears trailing down her perfect face.

"I-" Amy hesitated. "I'm sorry. People needed me, I couldn't just turn them away." She had a duty, a responsibility to be there for as many people as possible, right? They needed Panacea… didn't they? Of course they did. But didn't Vicky need her too? Could she purposefully hurt Vicky like that?

"You could." Vicky declared. She was right. Amy could hurt Vicky like that, or she could choose to not hurt Vicky like that. "All of us draw a line every day, at some point we all stop helping people. It wouldn't kill you to draw that line a little closer."

Amy couldn't meet her sister's eyes. "But it might kill them," she said weakly, willpower already flagging. People died all the time, what was 0.08% really worth? Not Vicky crying. It's such a small number, yet Amy was harming her sister just to make it a tiny bit bigger.

Vicky glared, but it wasn't directed at her. "I don't care about them, I care about you." She sagged back into her chair. "You're my sister, dammit. Stop beating yourself up so much."

The last of Amy's reluctance crumbled. Vicky was right, she needed a better work life balance. " *sigh* Fine, you win. I promise that I'll stop working till I drop," Amy acquiesced.

"Good," the blonde grunted.

"So…" Amy trailed off. "Are we still up for that double date on Friday?" she offered.

Vicky barked out a deprecative laugh, and then wiped the tears off her cheeks, doing her best to force a warm smile. "Yeah, sure."

ƸÏƷ1.6

(Friday, November 19th, 2010)

They went to a different mall this time. There wasn't anything wrong with the previous one, it was just that they had already checked out all the stores there, so they would need to wait a bit for it to change. In a month they could go back and see what had changed.

What didn't change was Amy's outfit. She wasn't going to fix what wasn't broken. She did one final check in the mirror before they headed off. Leather jacket over red sundress, minimalist makeup, black combat boots, and nails painted to look like different red and white flags. Her hair was right on the border between curly and wavy, with just the right volume to be voluptuous without looking overdone. There was always a special type of joy that looking nice brought her. Satisfying her sense of vanity was, well, satisfying.

Vicky opened her door and walked up behind her, squeezing Amy softly in a hug, as she rested her chin atop the brunette's head. "You look great, Ames," she said quietly.

Amy blushed a little at the complement. "Yeah, I know," she whispered back. She did look nice, but Vicky was right there, looking way better. Her sister's ample bosom pressed against her back, reminding her of the juxtaposition between them. Amy, all dressed up pretty like, was kinda cute. Vicky, without even trying, was drop-dead gorgeous 24/7. Maybe having a girlfriend would help boost her confidence. She hoped so, at least.

"So, are you ready to go?" the blonde bombshell asked, snapping Amy out of her moment of envious(?) fugue.

"Yup, I'm ready." she answered.

Vicky gave her one final look over, before nodding. "You're going to be wooing all the ladies," Vicky said, attempting to be supportive, yet falling somewhat flat.

Amy snorted. "Vicky, please. Imagine if I said the same about you and hunky dudes." Victoria took a second to envision that, and then cringed lightly. She didn't want to woo the dudes, she wanted to woo her dude, Dean. And presumably the same would apply to Ames. "You see?"

"I think so? Hmm… You're a strapping young woman, and she'd be lucky to have you?"

Amy smiled. "Yes, that's better. But, like, that sounds like I'm a guy trying to pick up a girl. So just imagine that I'm going on a date with a guy, and then come up with a supportive line for that."

"Um," Vicky rubbed her chin in thought. "You're perfect Ames, I'm sure he'll be head over heels for you by the end of the night."

Amy had to fight off her body's urge to blush more heavily. "Yeah, like that, but it's a girl." Vicky had been trying to be supportive of Amy's gayness since she'd come out, but she wasn't very good at it. Amy thought it might've had something to do with some level of assumed difference between queer people and 'normal' people. Heteronormativity at work, she supposed.

Vicky smirked. "Don't worry, you've got this, it's just a date. But let's hurry up, we're going to be late at this rate, and we can't have you not making a good first impression." Yes, that right there was the level of confidant yet gentle encouragement that Amy was asking for.

Amy glanced down at her watch. "Fuck, right, let's go." she nodded. They exited the house and bolted into the air, Vicky catching her in a princess carry midair like always.

They accelerated from there, one sister providing thrust and the other fine control, as they flew together, each helping the other. The ground blurred, and for a few precious moments the only real thing in Amy's world was Vicky back-lit by the sky. Then they slowed, causing the rest of reality to come back into focus.

Despite it technically being a different mall, it — like all malls — looked at least superficially similar to the previous one they had visited. Bright exterior panels brought a modicum of life to an otherwise plain white concrete canvas. It would look really good with some vines on it, in bloom of course. For the colour. Some tasteful spray paint would work as well, but given the city they were in, Amy doubted that such a thing could remain pristine for long.

Speaking of bright colours, they'd decided on meeting up at the northern entrance of the shopping centre, and Amy could see Dean chatting with a brightly dressed girl on the other side of the mall's glass doors. It was understandable that they were waiting inside, considering the fact that it was in the high forties outside.

In the privacy of her own mind, Amy made sure to send some thankful thoughts in the direction of whatever the source of her powers was, for allowing her to increase the insulation of the air to the point that such weather was tolerable.

The two sisters walked through the doors, and approached the chatting duo. Dean was Dean, Amy'd seen the blond boy a million times by now. Unlike the girl he was talking to. She was wearing bright green clothes of a few different shades, with a warm yellow scarf for the weather. Long curly hair framed an olive skinned face, and… golden eyeshadow. That was a red flag in Amy's mind, but at least the rest of the girl's makeup wasn't overdone, and it kinda matched her scarf, so hopefully the girl wasn't crazy. She was very distinctive looking, so perhaps she went to a different school? As Amy approached the girl, she gave Amy an appraising look up and down, similar to the one Amy had just done.

Amy put on her best friendly smile. "Um, hi, I'm Amy Dallon," she greeted.

"Abigail Fitzgerald," the girl — Abigail — grinned. "I like your hair." she abruptly complimented. It was Amy's most attractive feature, but that was just because it was the only part of her appearance that she had complete control over.

"Oh, u-um, thank you," Amy rubbed the back of her head bashfully. "Though really it doesn't really count, I just use my power to make it look good without having to put in effort like your's clearly took." Amy admitted, completely obvious that she'd just inadvertently complimented Abigail's hair right back. The both of them politely ignored the weird straight couple snogging by the wall.

Abigail raised a singular eyebrow. "How's that work? I thought you were a healer," she inquired curiously.

"Hmm," Amy held out her arm, and then disassembled her jacket, making it float apart at the seams. "I guess you could call it microscale telekinesis. I use it to repair clothes sometimes, but it also lets me shape my hair super precisely." She then reassembled her jacket.

"Cool, that isn't on your wiki page."

"You've read my wiki page?" Amy asked incredulously.

"Uh… yes? Not in, like, a weird way! Just, I was curious, and it was there," Abigail floundered.

Amy shrugged. Vicky was a total cape nerd, so it wasn't too weird. Amy had read every cape in the Bay's wiki page. Honestly, with how much villainy the city had, she'd think they would teach those wiki pages in school or something. "I don't suppose you have a wiki page I could read to get even, do you?"

Abigail shook her head. "Alas, not that I am aware of."

Amy took a deep breath. "Tragedy it is, forsooth. For whencesoever supervenienly ought I espy thy interiority?" There was a moment of silence before the both broke down in a fit of giggling.

"Pffft, hehe, supervenienly-?" *Tfhtfheheha* "Oh my God, you are hilarious-" Abigail teased.

Amy fought off her own laughter enough to interrupt her. "Hey, shut up, you're the one who seriously used 'alas'!"

Abigail waved her arms about comedically. "No, you shut up, it was funny!"

"So was supervenienly!" Amy countered the other girl by flapping her arms with equivalent ferocity.

"What does that even mean?!" Abigail challenged dramatically.

"I don't know!" Amy admitted, despite kinda using it correctly. They both took a moment to catch their breath before chuckling together at their ridiculousness.

Vicky and Dean had broken off from their canoodling to observe the discourse the two of them were making. Once they wound down, Vicky approached her sister. "So, you two seem to be getting along," Both of the dykes blushed. "We were thinking of hitting the arcade, then maybe do some clothes shopping. Winter is coming and all that, y'know."

Amy perked up. "Ooh! I've been wanting to try my hand at making some conductive gloves, if we swing by a hardware store, I could get a little spool of copper to add to a glove mesh for you guys!" she volunteered excitedly. Dean — Aka, the Ward known as Gallant — passively filed that away under 'sounds like something a Tinker would say' in his head, but otherwise did his best to not pry with his Thinker power. Amy, at the very least, wasn't bottling up all her emotions in an overly dangerous way, which was better than he could say about her… what was it now, forty days ago? It felt like longer. Weird.

The arcade was a new experience for Amy. All the games were simple in their controls, but with a depth of mastery that a first time player could see yet not reach, incentivising them to try again and push higher. Dean was surprisingly good at fighting games, whilst Vicky was probably flexing her basketball skills when she challenged Amy to a dance-off. Joke was on her though, because Amy straight up trounced her. Sure the game thought that it was 'almost perfect' vs 'perfect', but mathematically speaking, Vicky was infinitely more of a dancing failure than she was.

When Amy said that joke and Abigail laughed, she could have sworn that there were butterflies in her stomach. To the surprise of the other three, Abigail was a better shot than Dean at the marksmanship games. Dean, the professional hero, dude who fought by blasting people with finger gun lasers that gave them depression, had worse aim than a little girl.

Well, maybe not little, she was about Amy's size, and Amy herself was only moderately below average. But that was besides the point, which was that apparently Dean didn't practise his aim enough. Much to the Dallon sisters' amusement.

Abigail explained that she actually went to a gun range twice per week with her dad, as a combination of self defence and family bonding over a shared sport.

After the arcade Amy showed Abigail her favourite brand of knitted stockings for the holiday season. There were a bunch of cheap sleazebags that sold cheap ones that looked nice, but those were made from shitty materials and mass production weaving that both itched and broke apart at the tiniest snag. After a bunch of interneting, Amy had found one decent brand from Illinois that could match some of her own power woven sets. There was only one store type that carried them in the Brockton Bay area, but luckily that store chain had a small shop hidden near one of the far corners of the mall.

"And if you get thigh highs it lets you wear skorts in winter!" Amy expounded on the virtues of the comfy socks. Vicky just rolled her eyes, uncaring due to her protective forcefield.

"Or you could just wear pants under the skirt?" All three of the girls turned to look at Dean, who clearly did not understand.

"No, Dean, you don't get it. You know what, you two explain it to him. I'ma go get some pants to show him." Vicky said to her boyfriend.

"Yeah," Amy agreed, then turned to Dean. "So, women's fashion doesn't work that way, Dean. It's called a skort not a sk'ant because it's one piece and nobody makes them in a pant length variety. Also you can wear small, thin, exercise shorts under a skirt just fine, but pants- I need a tangent. Yoga pants or other leggings do not protect your legs from the cold, that's why women wear them outside in summer, spring, and fall, but not winter. So I must assume when you say pants that you mean thick, insulating pants. But those aren't fashionable for women because, unlike you, our legs are sexualised, which means that we can't wear pants that lack definition and still look fashionable. Wearing a skirt without having leg definition gives a terrible silhouette. But to have insulating pants you need to not have it be skin tight, because the air between the pant and the leg is more insulating than the material of the pant, and you need to minimise pant to leg contact to minimise conduction. Because winter is fucking cold this far north." Amy took a deep breath. "So in conclusion, it either looks bad, or it doesn't protect from the cold, and that is why we don't wear pants plus skirt in winter. Unless we're your girlfriend specially, because Vicky's powers are bullshit."

"…I think that is the most I've ever heard you say in one go."

"Shut up. I'm a lesbian, flattery will get you nowhere with me, pretty boy." Amy said gruffly, unphased by both his comment and Abigail's snickers.

.

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