Awareness returned slowly, lights blinding even through shut eyes and an incessant beeping was like knives being driven into her ears. She tried to roll over, but her body was stiff and heavy, more so as she became aware of something attached to her nose.
She opened her bleary eyes, wincing at the assault of sterile white the ceiling brought with it. Turning her head, she saw a swath of wires and tubes connected to her, running over to a standing machine, which had just begun to beep ever louder.
A hospital, she decided. She couldn’t remember what might have caused her to end up in one, but it had to be something serious. Pity she couldn’t remember, her thoughts were a jumble, and she couldn’t piece anything together. The last thing she recalled was the bus, some Empire asshole mocking the driver right before getting off at school.
Everything beyond that was blank.
Frowning, she turned to the door just as someone in pale blue scrubs came in. She was young—well, relatively so—compared to what most thought of when they thought of a doctor. The woman smiled at her, something bright and genuine that caused the machine beside her to spike.
“You’re awake!” she said cheerfully. “That’s good. Panacea wasn’t sure you would pull through after everything you’ve endured.”
Her brows furrowed at the information, Panacea was a familiar name, a cape if she recalled correctly. Wasn’t she a healer? Trying to remember just made her head hurt, so she pushed those thoughts away.
“We’ll inform your father that you’re awake, he should be by shortly,” the woman in scrubs said. “Is there anything I can get you? Maybe some water?”
She nodded, her mouth did feel rather dry after all.
“Great, I’ll be back soon,” she said, stepping back out of the hospital room leaving her alone once again.
She stared at the door for an unknown amount of time. Things were still quite fuzzy. She jerked in surprise when the door opened again, that same woman from before had returned carrying a plastic cup with a straw. She came over, bringing a rolling table with her and pressed a button that began to lift the bed, or rather, the headrest and allowed her to sit up. The woman then held the cup and put the straw in her mouth.
“Drink slowly. You probably want to gulp it all down, but we don’t want to risk an upset stomach.”
She nodded, sipping slowly. The water was ice-cold and felt like nirvana on her parched throat. She sighed in relief when the straw was withdrawn, yet she still wanted more. The woman set the cup on the table and moved it back and away. When the woman turned back, her cheerful expression had fallen way to something more melancholic.
“We have a specialist coming to check on you shortly, you’ve been through a lot and might not have all your mobility just yet. Please don’t panic if some part of you isn’t as responsive as you would hope. You’ve been asleep for over a week, such things are to be expected.”
A week? That was certainly concerning, as was the warning delivered. Experimentally, she tried to move her hands. Both fists clenched, albeit weakly. That was a good start, so she tried to move her feet. Only the left one wiggled this time and she frowned. Trying again, she couldn’t even get her other leg to twitch.
A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, and she looked up to see saddened eyes looking back. They were a pale blue, almost gray and filled with a pity that made her want to recoil away from them. Her leg wasn’t working, so of course she was worried, more so, she was angry and wanted to know how she ended up in that situation, but her memories were still muddled.
Just as she was about to voice those frustrations, someone else entered the room, wearing a set of sleek midnight blue armor that covered them from head to toe, leaving only a chiseled jaw exposed with a perfectly trimmed beard. Following behind the imposing man was a young boy in red armor. For each similarity between them there were obvious differences in the design choices that went into them.
She frowned, struggling to remember who they might be, her mind still infuriatingly sluggish.
“You can’t be in here,” the woman said, standing. “She woke up less than an hour ago, she’s not ready for visitors, let alone whatever interrogation this is.”
“I assure you, this was cleared with the proper people,” the man in blue said. “You can verify that for yourself, of course.”
“You can be certain I will, but I refuse to leave a minor behind to deal with a pair of vultures,” the woman said through gritted teeth. “I am well aware of post crisis point interviews, Armsmaster, but have some fucking tact and let the girl begin to recover before trying to grab another member for your toy soldier program.”
The boy in red flinched, but the blue man, Armsmaster apparently, remained stoic.
“These interviews must be completed at the earliest potential time. I’m afraid I must ask you to step out or to sign the appropriate NDA.”
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“Counteroffer,” the woman spat. “I do neither and we stand here until her father arrives and gets to see her awake for the first time in a fucking week.”
The boy fidgeted as the woman stood toe to toe with Armsmaster, neither side backing down from their position.
“Sir, maybe we should just come back later,” the boy in red said softly.
The tension was almost a physical thing, and she wanted nothing more than for everyone to leave and allow her to ruminate on the fact that her leg wasn’t working right. Whatever was about to happen was interrupted as a tall, gangly man barreled in through the door and straight into the growing standoff.
“Taylor!” She was tackled in a crushing embrace while the man sobbed into her shoulder. “I was so afraid, I thought I was going to lose you too.”
Her head twinged with pain at the name, her name. Taylor. She was Taylor Hebert, right. She hadn’t even realized she had forgotten until just then. It was a sobering thought that her mind wasn’t entirely her own anymore. She could tell that the man hugging her was her father. That much she could recall, but not his name.
She wanted to cry and rage at how broken she was, and so she did. She wasn’t sure how long that lasted, but she knew she wanted more water by the time the man pulled away, his glasses askew. Wait, she had worn glasses, yet she could see clearly enough without them. If that was the case, then why didn’t her leg work?
The rumble of a throat being cleared cut through the moment, drawing all eyes back to Armsmaster and his distractingly blue armor. “Now that her father has seen her, I trust all objections are withdrawn?”
Silence filled the room as the boy in red tried, and failed, to pinch his nose through his visor. Taylor couldn’t help it, she giggled at the sight, which only caused the boy’s shoulders to drop as he took a step back.
“No objections?” the woman exclaimed. “Are the rumors that you’re actually a robot true? Do you not have a single ounce of tact in your body?”
“I have already contacted the hospital director, he is sending someone to remove you,” Armsmaster said. “Please don’t escalate this further than it already has.”
As if on cue, two men in scrubs stepped inside, looking uncomfortable but determined.
“Tina,” one said. “It’s not worth your job.”
Taylor could hear the woman, Tina’s, teeth grinding in frustration as she gestured first to her father then herself. “It’s worth it to them.”
“Go,” Taylor said, though the words came out scratchy and broken. “We’ll be okay.”
Tina’s expression softened, and she let out a tired sigh before stepping away, the two men followed her out, shutting the door behind them. Absently, she reached for the water, but it was too far. Her father seemed to pick up on that, and helped her drink.
“This is Armsmaster, conducting an interview with potential trigger Taylor Hebert on January eleventh at seventeen hundred hours and eight minutes. Subject is awake and alert as well as accompanied by her father, Danny Hebert.”
“Am I?” she asked as her dad’s name slotted into place. “I didn’t even remember my name until my father spoke it. I didn’t remember his name until you said it.”
“Oh Taylor,” her father said softly, before turning to Armsmaster. “What is the meaning of this anyway? Why are two heroes harassing my daughter when she’s barely out of a week-long coma? A coma that even Panacea wasn’t sure she would recover from, I should remind you.”
“Regardless of that, we have an investigation to complete and time is of the essence,” Armsmaster said tersely. “To the best of your recollection, Ms. Hebert, what happened on the day of January third?”
“I got off the bus to go to school,” Taylor said. “That’s it, that’s all I can remember on my own.”
“You recall nothing about a locker?” he asked.
Flashes of someone screaming, bugs crawling, burning pain as she sobbed in the dark and insects scratched and bit at her flesh. The machine beside her bed began to sound a trilling alarm and it was only her father, with hands on her shoulders, that kept her from thrashing.
“Selective recall, a trauma response,” Armsmaster’s monotone voice said. “Ms. Hebert, it is possible you experienced a trigger event when you were in that locker and now have powers. If you can confirm for us that you do, a position in the Wards would be made available for you.”
“Hold on now,” her father spoke up. “That’s all you care about? If my daughter has powers? What about the people that did this to her? Have they even been identified? Last I heard, the school was unable to locate witnesses and the police were no longer investigating because the PRT took over.”
“Correct,” Armsmaster said. “Due to the possibility of a trigger event, we took over the investigation to protect your daughter’s identity as well as prevent potential retaliation by the gangs against those who targeted you.”
Three laughing faces came to mind, familiar and reviled. Mocking words blended together, Madison, Sophia, and… Emma. The girl who had once been like a sister to her, and had betrayed her in some of the deepest of ways.
“You’re protecting those who crippled my daughter?” her father said, jaw slack and his voice barely a whisper. “Get the hell out of here.”
“Mr. Hebert,” Armsmaster tried, but Danny barreled ahead, jumping to his feet.
“I said get the fuck out!” he thundered.
“Mr. Hebert, the Protectorate has resources that could help your daughter.”
“Only if I have powers,” Taylor said with a conviction that surprised herself, along with a touch of desperation. “Which I don’t. What now? Will these resources still be made available? I can’t move my leg, my arm is all but useless and apparently Panacea has already done all she could. What now, Armsmaster?”
She was panting by the end, her heart thundering in her chest as once again the machine by her bed cried out in alarm. Taylor didn’t care, she knew that they wouldn’t help her, nobody ever did. She was vaguely aware of the heroes’ departure, of the nurses returning to check on her, but Taylor wasn’t there, she was trapped once again with no hope of escape. Even her father had left, she wasn’t sure when.
She just knew how it would play out, her leg would never work again, she would be dependent on others for the rest of her life. She would be abandoned, just as she had always been. Hopeless. Discarded. Helpless. She felt consciousness slip away as distant voices cried out, but she welcomed the darkness like an old friend.
Destination.
Agreement.