Chapter 35.1
Posting just this part, for now. Bit of a busy day. I'll be posting the rest in a few hours. Just thought you guys could use the read.
Cheers!
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Emily Piggot POV
"And how is the screening proceeding?" Emily asked the PRT agent giving his report.
"Slowly, ma'am," he said, standing at attention in the PRT Director's office. "They've already been cleared of potential pathogens by the lab coats and Panacea. Unfortunately, Master/Stranger Protocols haven't really accounted for processing so many people at once."
"Understood," Emily grunted. "Anything else?"
"No, ma'am."
"Thank you. Dismissed."
Once the door closed, Emily allowed herself a tired sigh, closing her eyes in the process. The day had been long, and rest had to be pushed back in favor of trying to put out far too many fires.
Coming back to the PRT building from the clusterfuck that was the post-Echidna debriefing, she learned that the Ambassadors had given them the slip. So, that's one more threat she needs to account for. That's on top of the intense interest that Seraph's latest screwup is bound to draw.
Not that she was against having another healer around, even if Emily wouldn't ever trust one to come near her. She was just dubious about the very concept of bringing people back to life.
It was a reversal of nature, far beyond what Parahumans were already capable of.
There was no denying that such an ability would be a boon, not just for the PRT and the Protectorate, but for the world as a whole. It would certainly make Endbringer attacks much less catastrophic.
Cities can be rebuilt. Homes and infrastructure are the same. Lives lost are gone forever.
At least, that used to be the case as of exactly four hours ago.
Now that she was truly thinking about it, this seems to be a pattern with events involving Seraph. Practically all of his feats were unprecedented to varying degrees. Defeating Lung with ease, doing the same to multiple heroes without causing a single death, healing a coma patient (whom he was responsible for putting in that condition, in the first place), and, based on multiple real-world examples, could deal with Endbringer-level threats with seeming ease.
And now, there's resurrection to boost his ever-growing notoriety.
Then he just casually blurts out that he's potentially under the thrall of a villainous Thinker?
Emily wasn't sure why, but she was getting the feeling that Seraph was just screwing with them, at this point. Far too many things about him simply didn't make sense. If it wasn't their job to unravel what makes him a mystery, Emily wouldn't have given it much thought.
But it was.
Her computer suddenly lit up with an alert, distracting her from her maudlin thoughts.
Reading the details, she was surprised: the Chief-Director was calling her, without scheduling it ahead of time. Emily thought that she would at least have had the chance to compile their findings before her boss scheduled a conference. This was quite the break in precedence.
"Chief-Director, I wasn't expecting your call at this early juncture," she said after answering, prompting the woman's image to come through.
"Director Piggot, apologies for the abrupt contact," Rebecca Costa-Brown responded with her characteristically crisp tone, still immaculately dressed and perfectly poised. "However, recent developments in Brockton Bay have caught international attention, as you know. Even as we speak, my office is being bombarded by messages asking if dead people really are coming back to life in your city."
Emily was surprised, yet again. This time, for two reasons. One, this is the chattiest she's heard Cost-Brown be in the ten years she's been Director of the PRT ENE. Two, the speed at which information about the revival escaped their net held unpleasant implications.
Damn it!
She was really hoping to buy at least a few hours to straighten everything out before she had to deal with this. They simply weren't ready to present their report. Not without risking misunderstandings or misinformation. There was just too much being compiled, filtered, double-checked, and written in a format that didn't make everyone in her branch sound like they've lost their collective minds.
"I'm afraid my people are still gathering evidence and facts, Chief-Director," Emily responded cautiously. "I can't say anything concrete until we have all our ducks in a row."
"Just tell me this, Emily." The soldier-turned bureaucrat had to stop her eyebrows from going up. Since when did Rebecca Costa-Brown address anyone in such familiar terms? "Has Seraph displayed abilities to resurrect people who were considered long-deceased, or has he not?"
"As I said, ma'am, we still don't know enough to say either way," Piggot bluntly answered. "With all due respect to anyone in high office interested in this case, anything I say now would be gross speculation, and a dangerous one at that. We're still screening the subjects, and while initial findings are promising, this could change at any point."
"I understand, Director, I do." From the way the woman sounded like she speaking through gritted teeth, Emily could imagine that she's under a lot of pressure herself. "However, we need to tell them something. Rumors are already spreading, and the prospect of resurrection has some very powerful people who could make our jobs very difficult frothing at the mouth for even a hint of confirmation. We can couch your initial report in as many disclaimers and qualifiers as you believe necessary, but our jobs might just be on the line if we continue to keep silent."
God damn politics! The subtext was clear, now. Someone was fucking around in the background, and they have their sights trained on a cape who could change everything. It wasn't exactly a secret that the world wasn't doing well, what with Endbringers attacking every three or four months, numerous S-Class threats, and warlords gaining power.
Someone like Seraph could tip the balance in favor of democratic governments in ways that even the Triumvirate couldn't.
Resurrection, if it really was resurrection, would be a potent tool with immense geopolitical implications. Not to mention how it could affect attendance of Endbringer battles. More capes would certainly show up if they knew that they could be brought back in the likely event of their deaths.
So much was riding on this miraculous ability being exactly as it was, instead of yet another Monkey's Paw that would bite them in the ass down the line.
Emily could almost smell the desperation wafting out of Washington. The Trump has just given people in positions of power one of the deadliest afflictions in their circumstances: Hope. Something that most would consider a good thing, until they witness drowning men push others under the water in their bid for personal safety, even when rescue was already underway.
With this in mind, Emily did something that she would normally consider career suicide.
"This is stupid, Chief-Director," she told the other woman on the line bluntly, eliciting a raised eyebrow. Practically a scowl when considering her unshakeable self-possession. "Brockton Bay is in a delicate position. We just resolved a threat that could have escalated to endanger the tri-state area. One where Seraph played an instrumental role; a cape that we have bent over backwards for in the hopes of gaining his cooperation. And now that we have finally made progress on that front, you would have us risk it for political points?"
"Don't you think you're exaggerating here, Director?" came the condescending remark, causing Emily's blood pressure to spike.
"No, I am not," she replied with forced calm. "Based on everything we know about this cape, he will not appreciate government intervention in any way. Tonight's break in his established mode of operation is likely due to the scale of the threat that Echidna posed. One of the few things in this case that we actually agree on. However, even that is just a guess." Emily needed Costa-Brown to understand what she was saying here. "We don't know for sure why he decided to work with us, why he decided to spare The Travelers, why he didn't simply incinerate the area within a hundred meters before things escalated, or why he was so accommodating during the debriefing."
Emily could clearly recall just how Seraph's posture almost radiated unconcern despite being surrounded by so many capes. How his voice carried authority she couldn't place while giving his account. How, after dropping the bomb about Tattletale potentially holding his leash, he simply left without a by-your-leave, with almost casual disdain.
"You can't understand just how unpredictable he is until you meet him in person," she went on. "Even a hint of government overreach could set him off, permanently pitting us against him. I don't like walking eggshells around any Parahuman, Chief-Director. My file should already note that. But mark my words. If we push Seraph, there's a very good chance that he'll push back… hard."
Costa-Brown was silent for so long that Emily was starting to hope that she actually got through to her.
"I'm sorry, Emily." But this hope was immediately shot down. "This is bigger than us. Bigger than Brockton Bay. If the PRT and Protectorate are to weather this storm, we need to make compromises. You have one hour to submit a preliminary report. I'm afraid I can't give more time than that."
Then, without even a word of goodbye, the video call ended.
Emily was left staring into her own face reflected by the computer screen. It wore an expression of shock, dismay, and resignation.
"God help us," she whispered to no one who could hear. Award ReplyReport83ChampjklccmkYesterday at 9:27 AMNewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 35.2 New View contentChampjklccmkYesterday at 1:47 PMNewAdd bookmark#681AN:
Here you go! Phew! This was a doozy to write while running all over the place.
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Amy POV
"Carol, you have to calm down!"
"Calm down?! That monster was right there, and we just let him get away!"
"What's screaming going to accomplish? He's not here!"
"You're the one who insisted we follow the PRT's lead!"
"We had to! There was a truce, and antagonizing Seraph wasn't going to get us anywhere!"
"He deserves to go to prison!"
"And how would we have done that, Mom? He already kicked our asses once. What's stopping him from doing it again?"
"You stay out of this, Victoria! And where are you going, Amy Dallon?"
"I'm done listening to this pointless argument."
So saying, Amy stomped out of the Dallon home's living room, uncaring of the raised voices she left in her wake. Slamming the door to her room, she plopped on her bed, groaning into her pillow.
That asshole couldn't give her one day of peace, could he?
Just when things were starting to look up, yet another monster appears to ruin everyone's day. And, of course, the winged bastard just had to be involved.
The grumpy healer's internal griping was interrupted by a knock on her door.
"Amy? Can I come in?"
Despite herself, she couldn't turn her sister away. "Just get in here, Vicky."
A blonde head of hair peeked through the slightly open door, giving Amy a concerned look. Seeing that she wasn't about to be ejected with extreme prejudice, she let herself in.
"Had enough of listening to her, huh?"
Amy snorted derisively. Ever since waking up from her coma, Vicky had been much more willing to speak disparagingly about Carol. Not to the point of rudeness or picking a fight. But she hadn't been silent on supporting Amy whenever the Dallon matriarch said or did something thoughtless.
There was still love there, she could tell. Vicky just wasn't as willing to let their mother get away with as much as she did before, at least, not without voicing her objections. Amy supposed that this contributed to Carol acting like a caged tiger. From what her sister said next, she knew this too.
"She's been extra stressed lately, and seeing Seraph in person didn't help, either."
Ah, him again. It's like the whole city can't talk about anything else. She's sick of everyone bringing him up for every little thing.
"Guess you're the same."
"Huh?" Amy had to blink at what Vicky just said.
The blonde just gave her a wry smile. "You don't need to hide it, Amy. Just because I don't feel the same way doesn't mean you have to hide how much you dislike the guy."
A scowl involuntarily formed on the healer's face. "I still don't get why you don't hate him. He put you in a coma. He put Shadow Stalker in a coma! Then he put our whole family in the hospital!"
"I already told you, sis," Vicky sighed. "Spending so many years floating in empty space with only my power as a companion forced me to be more circumspect. I had to, or I would've drowned in my own emotions."
"But that shouldn't stop you from being angry now, right?" Amy pressed. "No matter how much time passed in that place, it doesn't erase what Seraph did to you."
"No, I suppose it doesn't," the Brute agreed. "The truth is that I don't blame him for putting me in a coma. Let me finish," she added sternly, seeing Amy about to express her outrage. "Looking back, everything that happened was either a result of a misunderstanding or due to mistakes.
"You weren't there, Amy," she continued, coming over to sit by the brunette in a slouched position. "He focused on dodging the whole time. Despite how many times we attacked, he never fought back. Grabbing him the way I did was stupid, especially given that he was a proven Blaster. Even then, the last thing I remember was him desperately shouting 'No!' before I got shocked unconscious. He didn't mean for that to happen."
Amy gritted her teeth in frustration, refusing to meet Vicky's eyes and staring resolutely at the wall. God, she's actually angry that her short-tempered and impulsive sister is acting so mature. It only highlighted how childish Amy was being, and that somehow pissed her off even more.
"So, that's it then? He accidentally put you in a coma, and because he healed you, we're just gonna forget about it?"
That was another thing that was driving Amy up the wall.
How many times did she come close to just using her power to fix what was wrong with Vicky despite the consequences? And here comes Seraph, just waving his metaphorical wand, waking up the sleeping beauty, when he was the one who put her in a coma in the first place!
"No, of course not," Vicky shook her head sadly. "He messed up, there's no doubt about that. But, that doesn't mean I can't own up to my own mistakes. And you know better than most how prone I was to making mistakes," she ended with a pointed stare.
Then there was that can of worms she was trying to forget.
Amy could only cringe at how she absolutely lost her shit when Vicky revealed that she knew about her sexual preference. It got worse when her incestuous infatuation was brought up. By the time Vicky finished explaining what caused her to feel the way she did, Amy was a mix of ashamed, angry, and relieved.
Suffice it to say, it's been an awkward two days since.
"That's different!" she tried to defend her stance.
"Because she's not me?" and then Vicky shot it down.
"Why are you trying to make me forgive him, Vicky?" She shot up and started pacing in agitation. "You just told me that I can hate him all I want!"
"I'm not trying to force you to feel one way or the other, Amy," Vicky said quietly, making the agitated girl freeze in place after realizing what she just implied. "I'm saying that you don't have to feel that way on my account. Seraph and I will have a reckoning, you can count on that. But, aren't you tired of being angry all the time?"
Was she? Yes, yes, she was.
For much longer than Amy was willing to admit, she had been feeling resentful and angry. At Carol. At the idea of New Wave. Even at Vicky, whenever she called her to fix criminals that she beat up with too much force.
Her anger at Seraph is just one more pebble on a mountain that she had been trying to pretend didn't exist. And she was just so tired of it all.
Before she knew it, strong arms had encircled her, and Amy melted into the embrace.
"I can't promise you that everything will be all right," Vicky whispered into her hair. "But I'll do all in my power to fix what I can. Me, you, our family… all of us."
She didn't know how much of what Vicky was saying would come true. But after so long that she forgot what it felt like, hope had started to grow in her heart again.
Alfred POV
Well… this is awkward.
Sitting right across from me, with a rickety old picnic table between us, was Danny Hebert. He looked much like he was often described in the stories I've read. Thinning hair, spectacles, tall, and thin.
Oh, and he looked pissed.
I was in my civilian clothes, taking the chance to change in my hideout after making sure that I wasn't tailed. As such, it was around eight in the morning when I finally showed up at the warehouse where Taylor, Danny, and the Undersiders were hiding.
Apparently, this was one of Coil's properties, which he kept off the books. Lisa shared that tidbit, though, only after giving me a reaming for what she considered the 'utterly stupid, moronic, idiotic, and asinine' choice of dropping her cape name to the PRT and other heroes.
Oh, and I wasn't allowed to make decisions anymore, according to her. I would have used some choice words in response, but she already told Taylor what I did, and the Master agreed with the prohibition.
I wasn't able to argue my case before Danny came marching from a side room and grabbed me by the collar. Unfortunately for him – and by extension, me – the fighting instincts I gained by following Haschel's lessons kicked in. Before I knew it, the man was on his back, having been slammed into the floor courtesy of my subconscious shoulder flip.
I only had enough time to pull back and reduce the amount of force I used, so he was only winded instead of crushed into paste. Still, it was a terrible first impression.
There was silence for exactly one second before a wave of curses, groans, and screeching rose up.
"What the fuck!"
"Daaaaaaamn!"
"God damn it, Alfred!"
"Why would you do that?!"
*Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!*
That last part is Taylor thumping me in the shoulders, head, back, and arms. All I could do was put up my guard while yelling, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I swear! It was instinct, I promise!"
After hitting me a few more times, Taylor helped her father up, who looked shaken by the experience. Remarkably, his glasses stayed in place, if a little askew.
"I really am sorry about that, sir," I apologized profusely. "My training kind of took over. But that's no excuse. I swear that won't happen again!"
He looked me over then with inscrutable eyes, so very much like Taylor's. I did my best to stand still and allow him to inspect me. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but after a while, he just grunted and walked to a table near the wall, gesturing for me to follow.
Not sure what else to do, I did as ordered. When I looked back to where the others were standing, Lisa was whispering to Taylor while Brian dispersed the rest.
After we both sat down, Danny just glared at me for a full minute. During that time, I kept a respectful expression and tried not to fidget.
"What do you want with my daughter?" he finally demanded, causing me to jerk in my seat (a lawn chair, by the way).
"Uh," was the start of my brilliant reply, "that's kind of complicated, sir."
"Well, uncomplicated it. And stop calling me that. It's Mr. Hebert for now."
"Got it, Mr. Hebert," I agreed immediately. "Um, as to my interest in Taylor, I swear it's nothing nefarious. I would literally die to keep her safe."
"I believe you," he replied without missing a beat, making me blink.
"You do?" I asked in astonishment. This wasn't what I expected from him at all!
"Taylor and Lisa told me everything." Crap! "They said that you risked your life to rescue my daughter from Coil. Even promised her your allegiance or something. That about right?"
Man, that's a relief! I should've known those two wouldn't spill every sordid detail. Though his portrayal in the fanfics I've read can be inconsistent, Danny likely wouldn't sit still if he knew that Taylor got involved with a globe-spanning conspiracy.
With that said, I did have to choose my next words carefully. I was lucky that Lisa couldn't use her power on me when we discussed this subject. Otherwise, she would have called me out on my bullshit. So, for want of a better way to explain, I just focused on the exact question he asked.
"I did," I confirmed, nodding.
His eyes narrowed in response. "And why did you?"
I allowed my brows to furrow, adopting a thoughtful face. "Several reasons," I said. "For starters, I did her a lot of harm when we first met. I hadn't ever used my powers in such a public manner before, and I had no idea it would affect her the way it did."
Danny gave me a skeptical look. "You didn't know about your fear aura or whatever it's called?"
"No! I absolutely did not," I denied, emphatically shaking my head. "I swear I didn't. My choice in form was only intended to take Lung down as quickly as possible. Had I known that it would affect your daughter like that, I would have chosen something else."
He still didn't look convinced, but he nodded at me to continue.
"Second, I'm not really cut out for this whole cape stuff." I had no problem admitting this. My goal to befriend Taylor from the start was exactly for this reason. "I'm powerful, Mr. Hebert. But that's all I am. You should know that every Parahuman comes with quirks. It seems that mine is to only be useful in fights, and nothing else."
The man's intense gaze softened at my confession. Score!
"I get it," he sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "All this stuff about heroes and villains was never my interest, but I have heard things. Still," he added. "You haven't answered why you chose Taylor."
Ugh, it's like I'm constantly confronted with end-game choices these days! Pick the wrong dialogue option and get gutted somewhere down the line. Fuck it, what's one more?
"That night with Lung, I saw someone defiantly standing before a dragon," I expounded, closing my eyes and injecting the appropriate amount of solemnity in my voice. "She was so small in comparison, but she held her ground. I can't honestly say that I would have done the same if I were in her place."
Meeting the older man's gaze head-on, I said the cheesiest line I could think of while channeling Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings for all I was worth.
"Your daughter is more of a hero than I could ever be, Mr. Hebert. Bold and true. I sincerely can't think of anyone more worthy of pledging my sword to."
Surprisingly, miraculously, Danny's eyes started to water. Whether in pride or pain, I couldn't tell. It wasn't until he spoke next that I learned it was both.
"She gets that from her mother," he sniffed, wiping the corners of his eyes. "She was always the brave one – strongest woman I ever knew. God, I wish she were here."
Not knowing what else to say, I simply smiled and went with, "I would have liked to meet her, Mr. Hebert. She sounds like a wonderful person."
Just then, two voices overlapped, and their content threw me for a loop for two very different reasons.
"You can call me Danny, kid."
"Do you mean it?"
I found head swivling between Danny and Taylor, trying to understand what I just heard.
"Sorry, what?" I wasn't exactly sure who I was directing the question to.
Taylor answered first, owing to her father staring at her, as well. "Do you mean what you just said? That you want to meet my mom?"
Where was she going with this?
"Honey, wha –"
"Just a sec, Dad. This is important." Danny closed his mouth, and then Taylor turned back to me. "Well?"
Knowing that I couldn't pussyfoot around when the subject was about Annette Hebert, I answered firmly, "Yes."
The girl took a shuddering breath, looked over her shoulder at Tattletale, who gave her a nod, before speaking her mind. When she did, it was my turn to feel the overwhelming urge to cry. Award ReplyReport72ChampjklccmkYesterday at 1:47 PMNewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 36.1 New View contentChampjklccmk19 minutes agoNewAdd bookmark#716An:
In a rush again today. Will post the other part later.
Cheers!
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Alfred POV
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" I requested lamely.
"Bring her back," Taylor answered in a shaking voice. "I know you can resurrect people. You did it when you fixed that Case 53. So, bring my mother back… please." She finished in a whisper, desperation leaking through.
Rather than answer her right away, however, I shot a glare at the blonde standing by the stained wall, arms crossed and looking smug. Christ, Lisa! I know that she was annoyed, but to go this far?
"Really?" I hissed at her, to which she only raised an eyebrow.
"You really think this hasn't occurred to her?" she shot back. "Better to get this out of the way now, rather than let it fester. I am not risking another blowup, not with you two."
I could only grimace in response, knowing she was right. This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to avoid when using White-Silver. From the start, it was only ever intended to heal. The only one I ever even thought to bring back if they died was Taylor, herself.
Turning back to the girl in question, I sighed in defeat upon seeing her hopeful gaze. Making it worse was Danny Hebert, now wearing an almost fraugh yearning.
"Taylor, I can't bring her back." The blunt statement made her recoil, as if I had punched her in the face.
"What?" she asked in a faint voice, before rallying with a vengeance. "Why not?! You did it with those people! Lisa said that the monstrous cape ate them months ago, but you saved them. Why can't you do the same with my mother?!"
"Because I never intended to resurrect them!" I bit out with equal frustration, shooting to my feet. "That was an accident, pure and simple. I meant to fix Echidna, to – to, I don't know, make it so that she's not a blob of rotting meat anymore. I thought that – it was supposed to fix her, just her! Then, once that happened, we could save the capes she ate last night. I didn't even know it was possible to bring people back who were supposed to be dead a long time ago."
"So, you're a useless fuckup, like always!" Taylor accused, making me stagger.
"That's enough!" Danny cut in, grabbing his daughter by the shoulder. "Taylor, that's going too far," he admonished gently.
"But, Dad, he –"
"I know, kiddo, but you have to stop before you say something you'll truly regret," he explained, making the eponymous Queen of Escalation drop her head like a scolded child. Danny embraced her tightly, making crooning noises at the blubbering girl.
For my part, I felt so numb after Taylor's accusation that I didn't even notice Lisa's approach until she placed a hand on my arm. Looking up, there was sympathy in those bottle-green eyes.
"You understand, right?" She asked plaintively.
And, oh, did that question come with a lot of subtext. Taylor missing her mother and Danny, his wife. Lisa's regret regarding her brother. The possible misconceptions that people might form regarding my ability to resurrect the dead.
It all needed to be laid out now, before things went out of control. Again.
"I do," I answered.
We were quiet for a moment, allowing the father and daughter to recollect themselves. Once they did, Danny looked at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"Can you at least explain why you can't bring her back?" he asked, almost begging in how he spoke.
"Because, even though I now realize that my power comes with a lot of nuance that I wasn't aware of, there are still rules that it follows." I was explaining this to the Heberts and Lisa, as much as to myself. "My guess is that Echidna only assimilated the people she ate. So, they weren't truly dead, or at least, not completely."
I outlined my thoughts on the matter, adding that this was just my theory, and I couldn't prove anything unless similar circumstances arose. More importantly, I made sure to stress that there could be unforeseen consequences, even if I did succeed in reviving someone. We simply didn't know.
"So, you can't resurrect my Mom because…" Taylor started, but trailed off as her face crumpled in renewed heartbreak.
"Because she actually died and has been gone for years," Danny finished for her, taking his daughter into his arms once more.
God freakin' damn it! I wanted to curse out White-Silver for putting me in this predicament, but I knew that it would be unfair. The Dragoon Spirit only did as I asked. It wasn't at fault for the unintentional resurrections.
So, I'm stuck blaming the circumstances.
Looking at the grieving pair, I couldn't help but put myself in their shoes. Despair wasn't a stranger to me, either. In my case, I shut the world out and kept on keeping on, convinced that if I pretended the pain didn't exist, then it wouldn't. This continued being the case until right before coming here.
There was nothing I could do for my past self. I couldn't give Taylor and Danny what they really wanted, either. But maybe there was a way for me to give them closure?
Shirley? I reached out. Is it possible? Can it be done?
A series of images flashed through my head. Impressions of both actions and emotions that were required for what I was planning to do.
Are you sure it will work?
The warmth of kindness, compassion, and understanding flooded my chest before quietly disappearing.
"I –" Oof, that's a big lump that needs swallowing. My initial attempt did get Taylor, Danny, and Lisa's attention, though. "If you can talk to her one last time, even if I can't bring her back to life, would you take it?" I asked with trepidation.
The shock that went through all three was almost a physical thing. Lisa recovered first.
"How – how would that work?" she asked.
"Everyone who has ever lived leaves an impression – an echo – that lingers even after they pass on," I explained. "It's not really them. Rather, an amalgamation of the mark they left on the world. The traces are especially potent on those whose lives they've affected the most. In this case," I gesture to Taylor and Danny, "it's your memories. Your love for her, the pain of her loss, the ache she left behind. I can use those to help you talk to her one last time."
This was a big gamble on my part. Objectively speaking, if they accept, they'll be speaking to Annette's ghost. Not Annette herself.
It's not something that everyone would be comfortable with.
"So… what? We'd be talking to her spirit? A poltergeist?" Danny asked, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.
Taylor, on the other hand?
"Do it."
She really is impulsive, isn't she?
"Are you sure, Taylor?" I asked carefully. "Shouldn't you take time to consider this? Maybe talk to your Dad about it?"
At my prompting, she looked pitifully at her father. "Dad, please…"
In response, Danny just sighed, looked at me, then nodded.
"All right," I assented before closing my eyes.
Take it away, Shirley.
After a brief pause, I felt the foreign memories and personality suffuse my entire being. White-Silver responded to a call that didn't come from me. Then, a collection of light that looked suspiciously like fireflies started coalescing in the space between us.
When enough of the tiny, luminous spots gathered, they started shining brightly. The illumination built up until even I had to squint or risk blindness.
Once the light dimmed, I blinked and saw a glowing, translucent figure floating midair.
"Oh, Danny," an echoing voice spoke, almost coming from every direction at once. "My Little Owl, I'm so sorry I'm not here anymore."
"Mom…!" The heartache in the small voice of Taylor Hebert was too much for me to bear.
Grabbing Lisa, I pulled us away from the pseudo-reunion, heading straight for the exit. It wasn't until we were outside, after I let go of my White-Silver form, that I noticed two things.
First, I was holding her hand. Second, silent tears were spilling from her eyes, making them look almost painfully beautiful.
God damn it!