“Amy!” Sveta called out.

You almost killed Sveta, I thought. My heart was pounding. I could have spit bile. I swear, if you walk away now, I will kill you.

“Okay,” Amy conceded. Barely audible.

The anger and hatred subsided, and it left me feeling utterly empty. Drained. It had taken everything I had, and if I had to look at Eric’s face, if he gave me that look like ‘we didn’t need you after all’,or if he suspected I had acted, I was going to flip that fucking eighteen foot long table, damn the consequences.

I held my finger to the power button on the computer, like I was crushing out its life. I watched the screen go black, video feed frozen by the shutdown process, and closed the laptop.

I didnt know what to do with myself, and I didn’t trust that what I ended up doing wouldn’t be flipping that table, or punching down a wall until I’d burned out the last of my energy.

But I was aware I was part of a partnership. And I’d be damned if I entertained even the notion that Amy was overcoming her own partner’s pressures, while succumbing to my own.

Nudges, intuitions, feelings.

Influences. I was aware I was acting different, since the connection had come back up. That I had hints, I had benefits. A kind of security. A new kind of vulnerability.

For now, I just had to ensure I remained better than her. That meant saving the world, staying on course, maintaining my own balance.

Thank you, Fragile One, I thought to myself. For the hints and the nudges. I’ll pretend they’re from you, because I can’t keep fighting and hating you. I’m spent.

Short break, and then we have more to do.

Sundown 17.9

I’d crossed the ‘everything is fucked’ threshold, by my personal measure, which was by no means official, considering it came from a fourteen-year-old.

Back when I’d been in high school, Amy had drawn a lot of initial attention when she’d triggered and got her power. A friend, excited, had shared an anecdote from her dad about health issues: you knew that health problem that had been nagging at you for a while was serious when you woke up simultaneously shivering uncontrollably and drenched in sweat.

That was the general metric, when your body ceased making fundamental sense. When I’d technically slept a full night but felt exhausted.

When I’d had a hot shower an hour ago and felt scummy and cold now.

When I’d had someone in my arms an hour and ten minutes ago, and felt cold and empty now.

When I was ravenously hungry, with maybe the best chicken dish I’d had in my life in front of me, lightly fried chicken strips with none of the moisture loss I tended to associate with frying, with spices I’d never had before, salsa utilizing new, better vegetables I’d never had before, and a dollop of sour cream to dip in.