When I finally made it back to the crossroads I'd left Amy at, she was nowhere to be found. I sighed and cast my gaze to the empty heavens above. The sun was getting too low for my liking. It was too bad my watch had been trashed by Shatterbird, I could use it. Well, not really, it wasn't like I fucking knew when anything happened. With a sigh, I pulled the map of shelters from my pocket and began searching for street signs.

  Once I was set, I began walking. The nearest one was, unfortunately, right in the middle of Empire territory. That meant Amy wouldn't be there, if she had gone to a shelter again. I had no reason to believe it, but the other option was wandering the streets aimlessly until I ran into her, a villain who'd kill me, or one of the Nine. Better to have some kind of plan, however shitty and fragile it was.

  It didn't take long to travel the five blocks to the shelter. The streets around were pretty bad, but most of the trash had been at least moved off the road, and the road itself was largely intact. Compared to hiking around some places near downtown, or god forbid the fucking Docks, it was easy going. Before long, I arrived at the shelter and slipped inside, hood up, head down.

  “Hey there,” a volunteer greeted me with forced cheer. I glanced and saw her looked down at my arm. I tugged the sleeve down, just in case. “How can we help?”

  “Looking for a friend,” I mumbled. “Just be a sec.”

  “Do you know their name?” she asked sweetly. “I'd be happy to help.”

  “It's fine,” I replied, shaking my head. “Um, just personal is all. Sorry.” She offered a sad smile.

  “That's alright, you go ahead.”

  I headed inside and began my search once again, doing my best to ignore how my arm hurt. At least I hadn't been stupid enough to get my hand inked, even though it would have completed the look of 'shitty Nazi kid'. I was sweating through my costume, under my hoodie, but kept it on. Better that I didn't cause trouble while I was trying to prevent it.

  The top floor was Amyless, so I headed down. There were a lot of people in this shelter, a lot of people who weren't white. My hands balled into tight fists and I tried not to think about why that was, focusing instead on the sole reason I'd bothered coming here. Ten minutes of searching later, I saw a familiar, hooded little dumbass with more freckles than sense. When I stopped in front of her, she looked up from her ration and sighed.

  “Took you long enough,” Amy muttered, looking away. “You do...whatever?”

  “Yeah,” I said grimly, taking a seat next to her on the cot she occupied. “You didn't run off.”

  “No shit,” she snapped. “I don't know if you noticed, but it's not exactly safe to be alone around here.”

  “Yeah...” I hung my head and sighed. “Sorry.”

  “It's fine,” she said in a way that meant it clearly wasn't. “So...what was it?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It's whatever.”

  “It's obviously not,” Amy countered. “So...sorry. I don't want to dig into your shit when you don't do that to me.” I took a deep breath.

  “Thanks,” I forced out. Couldn't get shitty, not too shitty anyway.

  “So...now what?” I blinked.

  “I don't know,” I replied with a shrug. “Keep surviving, keep moving, try not to fuck up more than we have?”

  “That's your plan?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Want to go back to the heroes?” I retorted. “Want to join the Undersiders? The Nazis? We don't exactly have a lot of options. We keep moving so we don't put too many people in danger, and we try not to fuck up because...well, that one's obvious anyway.”

  “And what about 'survive'?” I rolled my eyes.

  “You should eat, then we should go,” I replied flatly, no need to answer that one.

  Amy studied me silently for a minute, and I held her gaze as best I could. She let out a quiet sigh and glumly returned to her meal. Even thinking about food made my stomach churn, so I instead kept an eye out for trouble. More than a couple people were staring, one of them an obvious skinhead. I flipped him off, making him turn his head, and grinned. Fucker wasn't even right. I wanted to go over and drive him out, force him back onto the streets as night was about to fall.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  A sigh escaped my lips and I kept my eyes moving. Couldn't afford to think like that right now. Pissed as I was, pained as I was, there were more important things than salving my raped conscience. That would cause trouble not just for me, which I could deal with, but Amy and anyone caught in the crossfire. I forced myself to sit on my hands as I kept watch, not even wanting to entertain it.

  “Done,” Amy said suddenly, crumpling her ration wrapper. She stuffed it in her backpack, then rose and slung it. “You need to eat?”

  “Not hungry,” I replied, standing and rolling my shoulders. “Come on.” We headed out and onto the streets.

  The sun had already set, yet another problem that we'd have to contend with. I turned north, heading parallel to the downtown, between it and Skitter's territory on the boardwalk. Hopefully a sort of no-man's-land between heroes and villains, and close enough to both for the Nine not to be using it for shelter. There were no guarantees, of course, so I kept my eyes peeled despite the pervasive gloom. Amy flanked me, and when I glanced back I saw her head on a constant swivel, eyes wide. Terrified.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, startling her. I slowed so we were walking side by side. “We're going to make it, you know?” She glared up at me.

  “Your powers tell you that?” Amy asked sardonically.

  “Yeah, sort of,” I replied with a shrug. I knew she made it, after a fashion. As for me... “It's not going to be easy.”

  “You know what's coming?” Her voice trembled.

  “Not exactly,” I hedged. “But the Nine are the only issue we have to deal with. Right now,” I added, making her snap her mouth shut. “We'll make it though, trust me?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Have I given you a reason not to?” I asked, cocking my head. She frowned.

  “You didn't tell me you had powers,” Amy said in a voice I could only call petulant.

  “I'm sure every cape you know goes around in civvies bragging about them.” I shook my head. “Look, I...I knew about my powers slightly longer than I told the PRT. As in, one,” ish, “day longer.” Not counting my trigger event, not counting my trigger event.

  “I could have helped.”

  “Amy, how much did we talk before May?” No really, how much, I-- Lia didn't recall much of her.

  “We didn't really,” she said with a shrug.

  “So why would I go and tell you I had powers?” She looked away. “I could have, sure, but I didn't even think about it. And then...well, you found out pretty quick anyway, right?”

  “I...I guess.” Amy pursed her lips. “You unmasked to me on your first day.”

  “Not exactly my first day,” I said truthfully. “But I figured...well, I could trust you with it.”

  “Why?” I sighed.

  “I could rattle off a bunch of good sounding reasons.” I looked away, down an empty alley. “You get it, you already keep secret identities, secrets...sorry to burden you with another one.”

  “It's okay.” I looked back at her, startled that she sounded genuine. “Really it...I guess I would have found out when you joined the Wards, but you weren't planning on that, were you. I thought you must have wanted something, why else would you have tried getting in with me after getting your powers? But you're just...” She paused. “I don't know, I don't get you.”

  “And now you're out here,” Amy continued after a moment. “Dead set on helping me even though...even though you know what I did. You've got a mark from the craziest psychos in the country and you walked out on the Protectorate because I ignored you, ran away, and did something unforgivable. You're...I don't know if you're a good person because I don't fucking know what right and wrong are clearly, but I think you're trying, and I don't know how.”

  “I'm really not all that,” I assured her. “Seriously, after this you should talk to Gallant about all the bullshit I've put him through. 'Trying' is...too strong for what I'm doing. I just...I don't want anything to happen to you.” Or Victoria, especially from you. “But out here I'm putting less people in danger than with the Protectorate. Even if you had stuck around, I don't know if I would have.” I could see her studying me in the corner of my eye.

  “Who the hell are you, Amelia D'souza?”

  “Someone with a lot to make up for,” I replied. “And not all of what I have to make up for, I did.”

  “Who--”

  “My mom,” I snapped. “Remember I said she was a Nazi? I didn't know how bad it was. I...I don't want to talk about it, but trust me when I say that even if you don't know right from wrong, you'd damn well know what she did was wrong. You're not a monster, neither am I, but they exist. I just...I'm trying to be better, what else can I do?”

  “I don't know,” Amy confessed after a minute of tense silence.

  “Then I'll keep trying,” I said. “If nothing else, I can at least make sure I don't turn out like her.”

  “I think it's too late for me.”

  “Amy...you...” I let out a frustrated groan. “Don't just give up because you screwed up. You still have your powers, Victoria is still alive. As long as those things remain true, you have a chance to fix what you did.”

  “If she even lets me,” Amy said despondently. “I doubt she wants me near her.”

  “Then don't go near her,” I said, exasperated. “Sooner's better than later, but if she's not ready then leave it.”

  “Then she's stuck with what I did!” she countered, throwing up her hands. “Stuck with my sickness rewriting her fucking brain.”

  “It sucks, but what other option is there?”

  “I could make her--”

  “That's a dangerous road, Amy.” She snapped her mouth shut, staring at the ground. “How would you make her?” Even in the dark, this close, I could see her lower lip tremble. “You're not a monster because even I can see how much you hate that thought, I don't need to be Gallant.”

  “I...I still thought it.”

  “I prompted it,” I countered. “Would you--”

  “Never!” She practically screamed, whirling on me.

  “Then you obviously know some wrong.” Amy took a shuddering breath and turned away. “Sorry.”

  “It's...” She paused. “You're kind of a bitch.” I let out a mirthless chuckle.

  “Yeah, I am. Sorry you had to find out this way.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes, glancing around the empty streets.

  “It's okay,” Amy said, an odd tone in her voice. “I am too.”

  “And I guess Bitch makes three in this city.”

  “That was awful,” she complained, shaking her head. “Come on, before you kill me with another one.”

  We kept going, eyes wide, hearts heavy, but a little less than before.