With Great Power: Recovery

Taylor walked through the sterile white walls of Brockton Bay General Hospital, easily finding her way through the maze-like hallways by herself as her memories told her exactly where to go.

She passed several open rooms, some of them occupied and some of them not, and it was in one of these occupied rooms that someone spotted her walking by and called out to her.

“Taylor, hello honey!” Taylor smiled as she looked over and saw a kindly old woman laying in her bed, “Are you off to visit your friend again?”

Taylor nodded, “Yep. Emma gets bored just sitting around so I like to keep her company.”

Mrs. Jones, a nice older lady who Taylor had talked to once or twice during her visits, gave her a gentle smile, “You’re such a nice young lady. Your parents raised you right. Why, if one of my grandchildren brought me flowers as pretty as those, I might just break down right there!”

Taylor glanced at the bouquet in her hand, taking the bright assorted colors of the flowers within. The flowers were actually an inside joke between her and Emma, though she didn’t tell Mrs. Jones that. When they were kids, watching TV, they had always joked about how many flowers the hospitals had to throw away after they died in patients' rooms. Their childish imagination always went wild with images of flora-filled dumpsters and colorful landfills nursing with assorted bouquets.

Taylor figured it would be fun to reenact those scenes that they always saw in those movies and had been bringing Emma flowers every day she visited her in the hospital. The nurses wouldn’t let her keep them of course, but it was still something fun to dTo during her friend’s extended hospital stay, and Emma could really use the cheering up.

“I’m sure they’ll bring you something soon, Mrs. Jones.” Taylor reassured the woman.

“Oh I doubt that.” Mrs. Jones said, though she didn’t seem too sad about that, “Anway, don’t let me keep you, sweetie. Go visit your friend and make sure to give her my love. Lord knows I’ve got plenty of it without the grandkids.”

Taylor giggled, “Sure thing.”

Taylor continued on her way to her friend’s hospital room. She didn’t have to walk far as both Emma and Mrs Jones were on the same floor and almost in the same hallway.

Emma's room smelled like alcohol wipes, and Taylor's nose wrinkled as she opened the door. “Hey, Ems! How're you doing?”

Emma was lying in her bed in the middle of the room, an IV sitting next to her that wasn't actually feeding her anything. She looked away from the TV hanging on the wall as Taylor entered, and her bored expression immediately lifted.

“Tay!” Emma smiled widely as Taylor walked over to her. She sat up a bit in her bed, having a bit of trouble moving her body without the use of her legs. Taylor's smile became a bit forced as she watched her friend struggle.

Emma's injury in the alley hadn't been something temporary. In fact, if they hadn't gotten her to a hospital as quickly as they had, she might have been paralyzed for life. It was a good thing that they had been close to the hospital in the first place. A very good thing.

Another good thing was that after her emergency surgery, Emma had been put on really strong painkillers and had pretty much completely forgotten about her injuries. That had been a fun day and Taylor had gotten a lot of blackmail material from her friend's hijinks. At least until the forgot walked in and told Emma's dad that while the surgery had been a success, it would be a while until her friend could walk again. Months, even. And even then she probably wouldn't ever be back to full strength.

That had somewhat killed the mood.

Walking up, Taylor placed the bouquet on the table beside her bed, right next to the other two, “Still no word on Panacea?”

Emma rolled her eyes, “Please, we both know she’s not coming. I already had my surgery and I’m ‘on the road to recovery’. There’s no reason for her to show up now.”

Taylor frowned, “I guess. I just thought that your dad might have been able to work something out. Doesn't Brandish work at the same law firm as him?”

“She doesn't do favors. It's like a known thing around the office. She doesn't want people overrunning her daughter with requests or something.” Emma said, “Besides, our insurance paid for everything and she probably knew that. No reason to get the magic healer involved when I'm gonna be able to walk like normal in only a few years.”

Shaking her head, Emma looked at Taylor, putting a bright, fake smile on display, “Anyway, I don't want to talk about that. Let's talk about something more interesting, like your powers!”

Taylor knew Emma was changing the subject, but she didn't say anything. She gave her friend an amused look, “You really like asking about them, don't you? You know if anyone hears us, I'll be outed before I even have a cape identity to out.”

“Nobody can hear us in here, the walls are thick enough that I can't even hear that guy next door screaming half the time.” Emma waved her off with ease, “And of course I want to know about your powers! We've been dreaming about getting powers since we were kids and now you've got them! I wanna know everything!”

“Alright, alright.” Taylor laughed “If you wanted to live vicariously through me, all you had to do was say so. What do you want to know?”

“Well, lets start with that tingle you were talking about yesterday. The one you felt in… in the alley.” Emma paused as she mentioned the event that had put her in the hospital in the first place, “Did you manage to figure out what it is?”

Taylor nodded, pretending not to notice the pause, “I think it's some kind of danger sense, I'm pretty sure. It's kind of hard to test it, but I'm almost positive that's what it is. Anytime I'm about to be hurt or something bad is going to happen, my power warns me.”

“Sort of like an alarm?”

“Sort of? It’s more like… someone’s tickling the inside of my skull, I guess. I don’t really know how to put it. It’s just tingly and makes my body want to move out of the way.” Taylor glanced away, blushing lightly, “It actually happened on the way here. I was working in my notebook and almost walked into a pole, but it warned me just in time.”

Just as she suspected, Emma groaned at her near-miss, “Are you serious? Do you have like, any survival instinct at all?”

“Only when you’re around, apparently.” Taylor muttered.

“It doesn’t count if I’m the one stopping you from dying accidentally.” Emma sighed, “You’re like a guinea pig.”

Taylor blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“A guinea pig.” Emma repeated, “We’ve domesticated them so much that they literally can’t survive in the wild. You drop one in the park or out in a field somewhere and they’ll starve to death because they can’t forage or get eaten because they don’t know they have to hide. If I’m not around to stop you, you run into polls or traffic. You’re a guinea pig.”

“...That might be the most creative way you’ve ever insulted me.” Taylor said, absolutely in awe of what she had just heard, “Where did you even learn about that?”

Emma shrugged, “I don’t really have a lot to do in here and the TV is always on. I’ve been watching Animal Planet for three days straight.”

“And you call me a nerd.”

“Anyways, that could be really useful.” Emma said, “And what about your super strength? How’s practicing with that going?”

“Well, I haven't found anything that I'm not able to lift yet, so I’d say it's pretty awesome. I even managed to lift up dad's truck yesterday!” Taylor said excitedly, “I had to put it down before anyone saw, but it wasn't even that hard! I'm pretty sure that if I tried, I could get it over my head!”

Emma's eyes widened at her friend's words, and Taylor understood. Apart from a few select Brutes, most capes weren't actually that physically strong. Sure, some of them could take a hit, but Taylor could count on one hand the amount of people who could lift an actual car above their heads, much less one as heavy as her dad's work truck.

“Oh my God, Tay, do you know what this means?!” Emma said excitedly, and Taylor nodded, “Super strength like that with danger sense could make you one of the strongest capes in the city! I mean, if someone like Shadow Stalker can do it, you’d have no trouble at all beating down bad guys.”

Taylor smiled widely, happy to see her friend so excited, “Well if you think that’s cool, then check this out!”

Taylor jumped up, clearing the distance between herself and the high ceiling with just the barest of effort. As she reached it, she held a hand up, placing it on the tile panels running across the roof of the room and stuck there as if she had been welded.

She dangled from the ceiling like a ripe fruit, looking down at her friend and grinning at her surprised expression, “I found out about this one yesterday. I can stick to practically anything with any part of my body, not just my hands.”

To demonstrate, Taylor bent upwards, attaching her legs to the ceiling as well. She crawled around, proving just how securely she was stuck, before leaning backwards and hanging from the ceiling just by her knees. She spread her arms out as her hair hung past her face, “See? Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded, staring at her with wide eyes, “Jeez. You really won the lottery on this one. Danger sense, super strength, wall crawling, you’re like some sort of super powered spider. Don’t tell me you can shoot webs too.”

Taylor smiled secretly, “Not yet. I might have a fix for that, though it's gonna take a lot of experimenting and stress testing before it's ready.”

“Just try not to kill yourself while I’m not around to save you, alright?”

“No promises.” Taylor grinned unrepentantly.

Emma rolled her eyes, “Right. I guess I was asking too much with that one. So what’s the plan? Are you gonna go out and be a hero?”

“Well I sort of have to, don’t I?” Taylor said, “I have powers and I could help a lot of people with them. I can’t just… not do that. It wouldn’t be right.”

Taylor’s parents had instilled a deep sense of right and wrong in her from the time she was a kid. As head of the Dockworker’s Union, her dad was used to sticking up for the little man and making sure that the people under him got a fair shake in all of their deals, while her mom had been an activist in Lustrum’s group before they all went crazy with the misandry.

Their experiences had taught them that those who had the power to change things, had the responsibility to make sure that change was for the better. They passed those values down to her as well, and Taylor knew in her bones that being anything but the best hero she could be just wasn’t in the cards.

“You’re a better person than me. I’d probably just be a thief or something. If I could climb like that, nobody could keep me out of places that I shouldn’t be. ” Emma said with a grin, before she looked down and it disappeared, “Though I guess there’s not really much of a chance of that, huh?”

Emma's voice was undercut by a sense of deep melancholy, sucking any cheer out of the situation. Taylor frowned, dropping back to the floor in front of her friend.

“Are you alright, Emma?” She asked gently and Emma laughed meanly.

“My fucking legs don't work, Taylor. No, I'm not alright.” Emma exhaled shakily, the strong front she had been putting up all this time crumbling in an instant“I can't move my legs or even most of my lower body. I can wiggle my toes and that's literally it. Until I start physical therapy, I'm not allowed to get out of bed without a wheelchair and the doctor says I have months before I’m gonna be able to walk again. I feel so… powerless.”

Taylor’s heart clenched at her friend’s heartbroken tone and she leaned down, placing a hand on Emma’s shoulder in silent solidarity, “You’ll get through this, Emma.” She said comfortingly, “I’m here for you and so is everything else. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Thanks, Tay.” Emma sniffed, wiping her eyes before tears had the chance to fall, “So what’s in the backpack? You don’t usually bring one with you when you come visit.”

Taylor glanced at her back, slightly startled. She had honestly forgotten that was even there, “Oh, it’s just some sketches that I wanted your opinion on.”

Emma looked curious as her friend pulled the bag of her back, “Sketches?”

Taylor nodded, “Yeah, for costumes. If I’m gonna be a hero, I need to look like one. I figured I’d ask your opinion on what I’ve got so far.”

Now Emma was definitely intrigued. Taylor making outfits? That wasn’t something you saw every day. If she had it her way, she’d probably leave the house in a hoodie and sweatpants, “Sounds cool. Let me see it.”

Pulling a notebook out of her bag, Taylor handed it over, “The bookmarked page is the best one, I think, but I'd like your opinion on all of them if that's alright.”

Curious, Emma opened the book to the page Taylor had indicated, and her face immediately fell as her worst fears were realized, “Oh no, Taylor.” She said, flipping to the next illustration. It was even worse, “Oh no, Taylor.”

“What?” Taylor asked, startled by her words, “What is it?’

“It's awful is what it is!” Emma stared at the page like it had offended her, “What's with these colors? You are so not a baby blue. And a cape and a bike helmet? Do you want people to make fun of you? Because this is how you get people to talk about you like you're Uber and Leet.”

“I like the cape!” Taylor defended, “And the helmet will keep me safe if I ever fall.”

“You can stick to walls and dodge bullets. You don't need a helmet.” Emma said, utterly disgusted by the travesty of fashion that she was being forced to witness. She flipped through the notebook, looking for an idea that was at least salvageable. She wasn't going to let her best friend go out superheroing while looking like a clown.

Unfortunately, if there was one thing that Taylor inherited from her dad apart from his height, it was his fashion sense. Every single one of the sketches she had drawn up were worse than the last, and it took several pages turns for Emma to find anything that was even slightly possible to work with.

Emma looked over the sketch with a critical eye, taking in her friend's idea with a mind born of years of experience. Apart from the atrocious color, it actually looked pretty good. It would need some work, but Emma could definitely see an actual hero wearing it.

“This one's probably the best.” She said turning the notebook back over to Taylor, “But seriously, Tay, you need to work on your fashion sense. I could barely look at most of those.”

“You're rude.” Taylor pouted as she took it back, “I tried really hard on these sketches.”

“The sketches look fine. You draw better than I can. The costumes are terrible, though.” Emma leaned back on as Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, “It's not like it really matters anyway. Neither of us can make clothes and definitely not using spandex. We couldn't even make most of those costumes.”

“I know. I was just really eager about this and wanted to start writing some ideas.” Taylor said, pulling out another notebook, “I actually wanted to see if you'd like to help. I had a feeling if anyone would know how to make a good looking costume, it'd be you.”

Emma perked up as Taylor held out the notebook and held up a box of colored pencils, “So how about it? You wanna help me think of something I won't look like an idiot in?” She asked, rattling the box with a smile.

And really, how could Emma say no to that? She couldn’t have her best friend looking like a fool while saving damsels from house fires, now could she?

They spent the rest of the time Taylor had left to visit working on possible costumes for the brunette. As they worked, Taylor watched as Emma's mood lifted considerably and the light came back into her eyes as she slowly turned into the best friend that she had come to know. By the end of it, she was forcing her smiles less and talking to Taylor just like the Emma she always knew.

It wasn't a complete turn around, but it was an improvement and that was what was most important. What happened to Emma, to both of them, was awful, but they'd get through it. Taylor was sure of it.