Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taylor did not let her go, perhaps unsurprisingly.

Letting the girl express her emotions, and understand them, seemed to overload her sister more than usual, leading to her being excessively clingy. More than usual.

So, Amy lazily watched Hannah teach Taylor how to use a ferro-rod and thin wood shavings to light a fire without a lighter, then, very slowly and carefully, how to make a little… spinny stick-thing that one spun with a piece of string. Or their palms.

All observed from the comfort of Taylor’s lap, because Taylor was not going to move at this point.

Taylor followed along with her tentacles from range, mostly in order not to disturb Amy’s position on her lap, and naturally excelled in lighting a fire with both methods.

Then Hannah set up a little kitchen over the fire, using a bunch of small interlocking metal rods to make two upside down Y-shaped constructs connected with a thick wire, from which she hung a pot.

Considering this little cooking… construct… thing, packed up into a lunchbox-sized box when gathered, it was rather ingenious.

Hannah made Taylor tea that way, and then coffee for Amy and herself, given around on separate mugs. 

It was obviously a bit messy, and rather makeshift with awkward mugs and fiddling with a hook thingie to not burn anyone’s fingers, but it was…

Novel. Simple in a way.

Mostly, it was calm and peaceful. Hannah and Taylor talked about vehicles in low, languid tones, Taylor having apparently taken an interest in motorcycles which… made sense, actually. It was basically a less attention grabbing way and safer way- for everyone else around her- to reach two hundred miles an hour without sprinting down a highway and screaming to the world ‘hey look at me im a cape’.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew fully well that Taylor only got a sudden, albeit mild, interest in motorcycles because she forced herself to study the subject until she began to get interested.

It was the exact kind of batshit, brute-force thing that Taylor was certain to do, and despite her wishes, it seemed to work, even if her sister only did it to please Hannah.

But… well, with recent revelations, she understood.

It was ‘a lot’, but she understood.

Additionally, it kinda fit Taylor, honestly. Her sister was a pretty confident girl, growing into becoming a biker in leathers straddling a literal rocket on wheels seemed like the exact kind of thing that would fit her to a T.

Also… not gonna lie, Taylor would be cool as fuck on one of those sharp race bike looking things.

Eventually, the talk petered out as Taylor’s very limited knowledge started to show itself in sheepish shrugs, and Hannah unveiled their dinner, unfolding a little table and covering it with camping foods for them, and raw meat for Taylor.

The scene engraved itself into her mind with the familiar feeling of a permanent memory.

There was just something endlessly warm and peaceful and simple and so… so far away from all the stresses of their normal life, that it felt like a dream. A floating little dreamy memory that was so far from their normal routines that she just knew she’d be remembering it fondly when she was old and grey. 

Her, sitting on Taylor’s lap, her back supported by tentacles as if a fleshy chair, eating out of a camping packet meal that had to be far too expensive, considering how damn good it tasted despite them only adding boiling water from the floating kettle.

Taylor used Amy’s thighs as a table, her flesh-filled plate subtly wiggling around with her shifting as Taylor carefully picked her food piece by piece with a fork, her posture slouched, relaxed, mouth fixed into a permanent smile, eyes constantly stealing glances up at her that seemed to sparkle with adoring love, so much so that she kept feeling embarrassed, having a hard time eating her meal because of the stupid grin that refused to let her close her mouth properly.

Hannah, just across from them, the fire highlighting the painfully proud look on her face, looking at them like they had graduated, become doctors, scientists, astronauts, cured all the blights in the world and hung the stars in the night sky above them, all in one single look, rather than just lazily and quietly enjoying a campfire meal she got for them.

It was almost as heartwarming as Taylor’s love of her, because while she loved Taylor, was closer to Taylor than she’d ever been to anyone else in her life, she respected Hannah in a completely different way.

As a person, as a teacher, as a human being, as a senior, a hero, as a… as a parent. N-not hers, but a parent.

And to have the glowing, prideful approval of such a person, someone she actually looked up to, it healed a million little wounds in her soul that Hannah might never even know of. It made her feel like… well, if Hannah was so proud of Amy, she couldn’t have been doing a bad job, right? She couldn’t be that selfish by not healing, if- if Hannah would smile at her like that while she did so, right?

She couldn’t be that much of a danger to the world, if Hannah would smile at her with that soft, proud, encouraging smile when she’d start experimenting with her daughter’s biology to pass the time, right?

It was just a proud look, on the outside, but to Amy it was a dozen little reassurances, a thousand little ‘I’m proud of you’s that nobody else in her life had ever deemed to tell her, to mean it as they said it.

Hannah was the only figure of seniority in her entire life that seemed to believe in her so strongly, to be so proud of her, to trust her, to look at with such… it probably wasn’t love, but the woman liked her. She cared for her. She wanted what was best for her, and had seen her at her absolute worst, passed out in a grungy hallway, half-mad, then raised her up until she could see her now, at her best, softly crying over chicken soup and these two people who would so readily open their hearts and home to what had come painfully close to being a monster.

Hannah was just like that as a person, so it might not be special or odd to her, but to Amy, it meant more than she could ever put into words.

She really felt for Taylor, in that moment. To feel something intensely but have no real way to communicate it, at least not without massive embarrassment and humiliation, in her case.

Just to complete the image and all it meant to her, a sky full of stars peeked down at them through whatever cracks it could find in the dense canopy of trees, a gentle trickle of a stream in the distance mixing with the sound of crackling wood, a cocktail of smells flickering to overpower one another, from the meals, to the now-comforting smell of blood, a thing that whispered to her mind ‘Taylor’ rather than ‘hospital’ these days, to the pervading scent of burnt wood and chicken soup fighting over which one could make her feel more comfortable as they curled low in her chest.

She never wanted to forget a single detail of this seemingly meaningless little dinner.

So, regardless of how much she had to wipe at her eyes to keep the scene before her clear of pesky, warmth-fueled tears, she did so without complaint, and for the first time in possibly her entire life, felt no shame about crying so openly, just focusing on remembering this magical little night.

Of course Taylor, the dork, kept wordlessly handing her tissues with that sweet-as-honey look of care in her eyes, the tentacle supporting her back undulating in an attempt to rub her back.

God, Amy loved her so much it hurt.

At some point, she just curled up against Taylor, and listened to Hannah as she described one of her funnier stories of being a hero, hunting down a lead on the Siberian into deep Alaska, only to discover that the culprit was a particularly fat bear who’d stumbled on an already dead hunter and ate him, her little bag of chicken soup cuddled up to her chest for warmth, comfortably enveloped in Taylor’s tentacles and arms.

She couldn’t even laugh properly, she was so relaxed. Her muscles didn’t feel like clenching enough to make a laughing sound. Just a soft snickering series of huffs.

Her lips hurt from smiling, and the more limp she got, the more Taylor wrapped her up, infinitely caring.

Her blinks got slower, and slower, until she eventually opened her eyes to find herself laying sideways in the dark, a hand extended over Taylor’s sleeping waist, her head tucked into the back of her sister’s shoulder, propped up by a… pillow?

A heavy weight was draped over her, warm and smooth and hard but soft, Taylor’s tentacles, most likely.

The soft crinkle of an air mattress and a sleeping bag clued her in, and she shifted, getting a little comfier, too sleepy to process the soft hand playing with her hair until she opened her eyes, and met Hannah’s warm amused eyes over the top of Taylor’s head, half-lidded in a loving smile that should have been reserved for Taylor alone.

She blinked, slowly, her brow furrowing, the gears in her head lazily turning to figure out how she should feel about this.

The hand in her hair brushed back, a soft thumb smoothing out the furrow in her brow, her eyes fluttering shut from the comfort of the motion, tension bleeding out of her like it never existed.

She resisted sleep just long enough to crack her eyes open a tad and make a vaguely questioning sound towards Hannah, thick with sleep.

It took another moment to realize Taylor was asleep, and it was Hannah’s hand that was playing with her hair.

She didn’t have the brain capacity to question it, only thinking that it felt nice, and she wanted more.

Hannah’s smile widened, eyes melting into half-lidded pools of warm honey, shining with so much love that it felt like that look should be reserved exclusively forTaylor.

But it wasn’t.

“Sleep, sweetheart.” Hannah softly whispered, barely a breath.

Tired and comfortable as she was, she listened, only shifting a little to better spoon Taylor, who seemed to be in turn, curled around Hannah.

The next morning came slow. She woke up from a mixture of dim sunlight coming in through the tent walls and the rustle of clothes, and decided she wanted more sleep.

Then she woke an indeterminate amount of time later, tickled awake by hot breath washing over her neck, and she blearily adjusted herself until Taylor was breathing out onto her shoulder instead, before lazily drifting off to sleep again, the sound of forest birds and rustling leaves mixing with the scent of morning dew to make for an irresistible atmosphere that demanded she luxuriate in it.

The third time was the final time she woke up, as something even more tantalising than a lazy morning came in through the door.

The smell of breakfast.

Slowly, and with much reluctance, she escaped Taylor’s needy clutches, and managed to wake the grumbling cannibal up with a tiny bit of cheating from her power, leading to two bleary eyed teenagers shuffling around in the dimness of the tent, yawning and shuffling and whispering around each other to get dressed.

How Amy had slept through Hannah apparently taking her shoes and socks off, she wasn’t sure, but in hindsight, goddamn that was so embarrassing.

It was only when she went to put a hand through her hair and it immediately tangled in the locks that she realized that Taylor’s careful work from yesterday had been made undone by her sleepy tossing and turning, the aerated pillow only increasing the problem by making it all static-y.

As she and Taylor helped each find their discarded socks, phones, and other miscellaneous tidbits, she slowly built up the courage to ask Taylor to once again waste her time on Amy, without reward.

Finding the brush took a little while.

She almost felt bad about it, but she felt worse about her hair being a bird’s nest again, and almost twice again as short, so eventually, she tapped Taylor’s shoulder, and received a long, teary-eyed yawn from her sister, who slowly blinked at her as she rubbed tears out of her eyes.

“Hn?” Taylor mumbled, one eye less open than the other.

She swallowed, embarrassed, and feeling more than a little selfish.

She raised the hair brush.

“Hey. W-would you uhm, mind doing my hair again?” She asked in a soft whisper, a guilty grimace on her face, her free hand clenched on her pant leg.

Taylor’s eyes minutely widened with interest, and with another bleary blink, Taylor excitedly nodded with an adorably high pitched “Hm!” sound, gently taking the brush from her.

She relaxed, and turned around, letting Taylor’s yawns and soft prods guide her around until she was slumping back onto hard muscle and gentle arms.

Her eyes felt so heavy.

“Thanks. Luv you.” She mumbled, as Taylor began to very gently arrange her hair with her fingers, the brush not far behind.

She felt Taylor smile in her hair.

“Love you too.” Taylor breathed out, then yawned, before abruptly sputtering and pulling back a little, probably having gotten a hair in her mouth or something like that, spitting air.

She snorted with soundless laughter, eyes now fully closed. 

One slow, measured brush. 

Muscles untensing, body shifting into the familiar warmth around her. 

Another brush. Three, then four…

She felt her thoughts fade as she slipped into another nap, only abruptly waking up ten minutes later as she felt Taylor gently put her arms under her armpits, and pull her upright on her lap, having been slumping off.

She blinked at the tent walls with a nondescript sound of grogginess, and Taylor huffed with laughter. 

“Back to your cat nap, your highness. Not even half done.”

She blinked again, then spent about five seconds letting her brain process the words, before promptly turning a little sideways and snuggling closer to Taylor with a long, slow, tear-inducing, squeaky yawn. 

She couldn't quite sleep after waking up so many times, so she let herself enjoy the pampering from Taylor, before deciding to repay the favour, using her power to make Taylor relax , massage her muscles from the top of every fibre to the bottom where it attached to bone, slowly simulating the feeling of actual human touch to make it feel nicer.

In short, a literal bone deep massage for a person whose muscles made a normal massage impossible. 

Taylor let out a soul-deep groan of appreciation from her chest, practically making Amy's head rattle against her chest, low and slow, quickly slumping over her limp form like a wet towel, her brushwork getting exceptionally limpwristed for a moment, before adjusting.

A slow, building chainsaw purr rumbled out of Taylor's chest, the vibrations travelling across Amy's torso as well as her ears while she simply smiled, half-awake, pleased as punch to be paying her sister back for her help… and patience.

Really, nobody else would be this patient with her. Her little sister was an angel. 

“What's with the purring, again? Can't remember if you explained it.” She mumbled, barely heard over said purring, which had grown into the steady sound of a truck engine on idle.

It took a moment for the purring to abruptly halt, which was almost startling in the sudden silence that filled the tent, grown used to the sound as she had been. 

Taylor breathed in to recover the air she'd been purring out, then sighed warmly.

“Mom thinks it's adorable. And it's a way to… express.” Taylor hummed, gently tugging a knot out of her hair.

She made a sound of agreement. 

“It’s pretty cute, yeah. Can you tone it down a tiny bit though? You're kind of rattling my brain.” She whispered. 

“Then get your head off my boobs.” Taylor half-grumbled in that fake way of hers that said that she did not mind Amy's position at all.

“No. I made these pillows, I'm using them.” She mumbled petulantly, far too comfy to move her head from the single soft spot on Taylor's body.

Taylor made a particularly sharp ‘snrk’ sound at that, silent giggles shaking Amy's head again. 

“P-pillows.” Taylor half-giggled, shaking her head in amused disbelief, starting another pass of the brush, her free hand gently gathering stray hairs of Amy's behind her ears, soft and gentle like she was made of glass.

Why are you so painfully sweet? God, she loved her.

Then Taylor started purring again, before realising what she was doing and stopping.

“Why'd you sto-?” She started to protest.

Amy saw something in Taylor's brain, an associative connection that flared in time with Taylor's purring, and she made a very useless discovery.

“Did you do that subconsciously?” She asked, slow and soft.

Taylor gave a tiny nod.

“You Pavlov’ed yourself into instinctively purring when you're comfortable and happy. That's… really fucking funny for some reason.” She finished with a light snicker.

Taylor went to say something only to abort it for a slow, lazy groan of pleasure as Amy stretched some tense muscles in her back, then relaxed them utterly, turning her spine into a limp noodle. 

“If you weren't doing that I’d be pretty annoyed with you right now.” Taylor lied, smiling wide and soft down at her, as if Amy could see her. 

Which she could, with her power, but, semantics.

Then the dork started purring again, and Amy endured the rumbling vibrations with grace, because despite it being almost obnoxiously loud for such a quiet morning, she… 

Well, she loved that sound more than anything, if she were to be honest with herself. Because it meant her sister felt safe and comfortable and happy.

And if anyone deserved to feel those things, it was Taylor.

Needless to say, their morning routine took fucking ages.

Cold bacon and eggs absolutely sucked, but at least it gave her enough energy to help with the cleanup.

Gathering their little camp up took a while, but it wasn't particularly memorable. Just very damp, tiring, and dirty.

How did wet dirt still manage to get everywhere, damn it?

“Mom? Everything alright?” Taylor’s voice cut into her thoughts as she scrubbed the mud off her shoe using a random rock, and she glanced to the side to see what had Taylor concerned.

Hannah blinked at them, then shook her head with a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Was just thinking about Missy.” Hannah said with a pensive humm.

Her brow rose, now truly curious as she finished stuffing the sleeping bags into the box she was holding.

“What’s up with lil’ V?” She piped up.

Hannah rubbed the back of her head, seemingly trying to consider what she could say, brows furrowed.

“Well, uhm. She called me yesterday while you two were sleeping in the car. She sounded pretty- upset. Just kinda worried for her.” Hannah said.

She tilted her head.

“Can we call her?” Taylor asked, curious, and a tad concerned.

Hannah shook her head.

“She’s in school right now, and she'll probably be on patrol until nighttime. You could call her then?”

Amy blinked for a moment, taken by surprise.

“Wait, schools are open again? But- spring break?” She asked.

Taylor poked the side of her head, dodging the half-assed bite that Amy tried to use to retaliate against said finger, smiling at her like she was a cute puppy instead of a deadly parahuman.

Ass.

“Spring break ended like, a week ago. It’s pretty short. Still have a couple months before the semester rolls around though, so it doesn’t concern us.” Taylor pointed out.

She gave a short hum of acknowledgement, her hands too full of ‘box’ to do anything else.

Hannah stretched like a cat in the morning light, then turned towards the both of them with a slight smile.

“How about we hike up to the place I actually wanted to take you guys to?” Hannah suggested, eyes bright and soulful.

She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically.

“Taylor, save me-e-e-ee.” She faux sob-whined.

“Nope. I wanna jump around in the trees!” Taylor excitedly exclaimed, craning the head up to look above at the… quite large trees, now that she thought about it.

… She had no fucking idea what tree species and kinds existed, honestly. She should get on that eventually.

She deflated with a deep sigh.

“Fine- wait.” She gasped, sharp and deep as a sudden idea tumbled into her largely empty brain bowl.

She turned her wide eyes to Taylor. “Can we make a fucking treehouse?!” She exclaimed, far too excited, genuinely startling Taylor, who jumped, then blinked at her in incomprehension, leaning back.

When did she get so close to Taylor?

Backing up a little, she turned her head to Hannah with an imploring look.

Hannah opened her mouth, closed it, bit her lip, made a funny grimace.

“It’s- I’m not sure how we could make a safe one?” Hannah pointed out. “I also didn’t bring any nails and screws because, well… I wasn’t expecting construction work?” Hannah sheepishly finished.

She tried to come up with a way to make it work for a moment, sputtering to try and defend her idea, a childhood dream that every damn kid has had at least once, but quickly realized how unfeasible it was, and deflated, thoroughly disappointed.

“Man…” She sighed, looking up longingly at the trees.

Taylor bit her own pointer finger, thinking hard with scrunched brows, before huffing.

“Oh. Ooh, hold on.” Taylor said in a hush-excited voice, rushed and full of childlike wonder as wide brown eyes turned to her.

“Amy, mom, do you two want a ride up to a treetop? We could sit on a branch, or use my tentacles as a bench, just watch the forest. Doesn't that sound really nice?” Taylor practically begged.

She pictured that mental image for about half a microsecond before nodding fervently like a spazzing bobblehead.

Taylor turned to Hannah expectantly, and so did Amy. 

Hannah seemed to think it over, face pinched with concern, before the expression melted away with a sigh. 

“Gosh, you two are way too powerful for me to be this overprotective.” Hannah huffed quietly, silently laughing at herself as she took a few steps towards them, putting a hand on Amy's shoulder while giving Taylor a warm smile.

“You two”, as in… Hannah was overprotective of her as well?

Amy… wasn't sure what to do with that except beat that tiny needy little kid in her head back into the depths of her mind with a mental baseball bat while reminding herself don't assume anything, do not assume anything at all, it will hurt later .

She looked down at the hand on her shoulder, blinking at it, processing the phantom warmth nuzzling deep into her chest like a stray kitten.

“Alright, we can do it once we find the camping spot, just make sure you have a solid hold on Amy, alright bug?” Hannah suggested, and after an enthused nod from Taylor, Hannah took the lead, taking them back to the truck first. 

She silently followed, trying to turn her brain off and just enjoy the mushy, squishy warmth deep in her heart, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

The moment they were done repacking and resupplying, Hannah turned to her with a distinctly nervous smile, thumbing at her phone.

She paused, expecting… something. Words?

Hannah tried, then licked her lips, resorting to a jittery dance of looking at her phone then at Amy like she was making some kind of decision.

She stared expectantly, her brow slowly furrowing as curiosity began to gnaw at her.

“Uh, Hannah? What is it?” She asked, breaking immediately.

Curiosity was her weakness, sue her.

Even Taylor, who was swinging around the poor groaning trees above them like a monkey with her tentacles, seemed to notice Hannah's odd body language and decide to swing close to hang upside down beside them like a bat, just out of the way enough to not insert herself, but close enough to hear and see.

Hannah took a short, sharp breath, then turned the phone towards her, a genuine, but very nervous smile on her face.

She stared at the screen, brows furrowing at the legalese in front of her that might as well be Chinese.

But she could tell it was a government document, at least. 

“Sorry to uh, spring this on you all of a sudden, but I've been in sparse contact with Mark, and… well, they pulled some strings to move this along.” Hannah started, and she stilled, wide eyed and very confused.

“This is, well, to my amateur understanding of it, a paper about your parents relinquishing all rights, powers, and responsibilities attached to you on every level that the law can enforce. Mark sent this to me this morning. All it needs is your digital signature. After this, emancipation should be a cakewalk, at least with some of my help. As much as it can be. It's complicated, and you'll need to work with me on the legal end so that the government will emancipate you, but it'll happen much easier now.” Hannah rushed out, smiling at her with nervous joy. 

She could wonder about that but she was too busy trying to identify her own emotions as she processed that.

“I… uuuh…” She started, raising a hand to her temple to rub at what felt like an oncoming headache. “Wait, is this, me getting emancipated, or like, me getting disowned so I can then get emancipated since I have no official family?”

Hannah made a so-and-so gesture, lowering the phone. 

“Getting disowned is a different thing legally, but, to simplify things, the second, sort of. I was planning to tell you after the trip but, well, I figured you'd appreciate me treating you like an adult more than keeping your mind off your usual worries.” Hannah admitted with a sheepish smile of sympathy.

She dragged a hand down her face, nodding, her mind spinning. 

God, she hated legal bullshit.

“I- I do, really. B-but uhm. I'm not.” She started, and paused at the intrigued look Hannah gave her. “An adult, I mean. I- I am way over my head here. I don't understand what is on that paper at all, and, frankly, I don't trust Carol not to have snuck in like… me giving away my soul to her in the fine print. So uh…” She trailed off, brow furrowing at nothing before she looked at Hannah in the eye, feeling a lot more overwhelmed than usual and simply said the truth she hated admitting to her entire life.

“I need- I need help. I have literally never even touched a legal document, Carol used to do this crap. H-Hannah, how do I get a lawyer to check on this?” She asked, unable to mask a hint of trepidation and overwhelmed panic as she gently reached for the phone, Hannah handing it over immediately and then sliding up to her side to read the document with her, a hand curling around her shoulders from the side, rubbing up and down her left shoulder.

The motion relaxed her a little bit, but not much. 

“I don't think you need to, I checked all of it for you. Yes, fine print and all, I searched all the laws, even called my own lawyer once or twice to make sure, sent it over to him. You two slept in a lot. ” Hannah hummed. “It’s all clear.”

She relaxed, a massive sigh of relief leaving her. 

“Oh holy shit. That's - so much work .” She breathed out, stunned by a wave of appreciation for the woman, her brain frying itself just by skimming through the incomprehensible garbage that lawyers wrote in the document.

Oh sure, it was English, technically, but it was written like someone was trying to stretch a single goddamn paragraph into fifty pages to fill a word count for an essay. 

Completely fucking unreadable. 

By the time she was down a paragraph of random, disconnected, hyper specific gibberish strung together like a crackhead’s Christmas lights, she had completely lost sight of what the fuck the paragraph was even talking about to begin with.

And Hannah probably spent hours checking this for her. Just because she cared about her.

Hannah hummed in agreement, tiredly slumping on her a little with the sound. 

“Yeah, it sucked but, well, you're worth it sweetheart.” Hannah hummed, almost absentmindedly, squeezing her shoulder. 

Her brain suddenly flashed clear of all worthless legalese garbage, she slowly turned to blink up at Hannah, trying to give words to her emotions, wondering how to show even a smidge of her appreciation.

She clicked the phone shut, shoved it in her pocket, and turned towards Hannah, awkwardly and stiffly moving her arms to encircle Hannah’s waist in a stilted hug, eyes turned low while her face burned with a furious blush.

Hugging people other than Taylor was still new to her, okay?

It took until their torsos were about to meet for Hannah to realize what she was doing, and tug her the final stretch close, two strong, soft arms locking around her shoulders and back, a soft sigh of wonder ruffling her newly-brushed hair as a pair of smiling lips settled onto the top of her head.

Once again, she was treated to the sight of Hannah’s biology flooding with a surge of various chemicals that translated into joy, affection, relief, and many other subtler nuances she couldn’t name.

It was hard not to tear up thinking about how this woman was like the loving teacher and supportive parent and helpful mentor that she never had all in one.

She tried to blink away the tears, lifting her head to switch which cheek was smushed against the woman’s shoulder, but all that did was force her to see Taylor in between her rapid blinks, until she could see her expression better.

What she saw made her mentally pause in confusion.

Taylor was staring at them with her red, cracked eyes as wide as saucers, like she just had some sort of grand realization that was a long time coming, eyes flicking from her to Hannah and back with a naked mix of shock, joy, and disbelief all over her face.

Amy blinked back at her, too consumed by the protective warmth around her to consider just asking out loud if something was up.

She was answered by Taylor suddenly dropping to the ground head-first with a squawk of surprise, a flailing tentacle pushing against the ground as she righted herself, trying to clear her hair of sticks and mud and dropped leaves as she righted herself, eyes still trained on them in complete bafflement while she shook her head like a dog.

Hannah and she both startled and separated, Hannah jogging to Taylor’s side in an instant, fussing over her and trying to clear the bits of wet dirt from her daughter’s hair and Taylor assured her that no, she was fine, and no, she just let go of the branch, nothing happened, while Amy awkwardly stood to the side, hurriedly brushing at her eyes to gather herself again before Hannah’s distraction faded.

Taylor still wouldn’t stop looking between them like she was absolutely baffled by something.

“Bug, you sure everything’s okay?” Hannah asked for the third hurried time, picking a clump of dirt off of Taylor’s hair.

Taylor bobbed her head in a nod.

“Yeah- yeah, mom, I’m a parahuman , I’m fine, it was-” Taylor glanced at her, still with that odd mix of joy and ‘what the hell’ on her face, before glancing back to Hannah, “I just- got distracted. It’s all- all is well. All is- really well.” Taylor rambled, glancing at her again with a more giddy, excited kind of air to her, “Everything is perfect, actually.” Taylor finished, before a baffled, joyful laugh escaped her lips.

Hannah blinked.

“Oooohkay?” Hannah said, brows furrowing a little as she glanced back at Amy and then Taylor, like she was missing something. Which she was.

Amy was also missing something, because Taylor was being weird.

She didn’t miss the excited little butt wiggle that Taylor did, that characteristic shuffle of her feet.

Her eyes widened as she backpedalled, having full awareness of what that meant.

“Don’t you FUCKING DARE-” She managed to rush out, before Taylor pounced on her and entraped her in a crushing, wet, dirty hug that had her making several sounds of disgust. “Gnragh, fuck off! You’re covered in dirt! My clothes!” She squeaked, trying in vain to push Taylor away, legs kicking while the giddy brute hugged like a plushie, making little excited squealing noises under her breath while her dirt-streaked face nuzzled her own, spinning her around like she couldn’t contain her joy.

“Let go, you muddy fuck!” She squirmed, managing to kick Taylor’s shin with full force.

Taylor, the absolute asshole, just laughed like this was the best day of her life.

Fucking weirdo!

“This is really not a punishment, you know.” Taylor cheekily reminded her as she adjusted Amy’s legs around her stomach.

“Shut up. Ass. Dirty goblin. Muddy shitcrumb. I hate you.” She grumbled into Taylor’s hair, not meaning a single one of them.

Taylor snickered, knowing full well that she was just sulking about her dirtied clothes. 

Amy huffed, just trying to enjoy the piggyback ride to their new camping spot.

Hannah paused when the steps behind her stopped for a little too long, and craned her head around to direct a questioning glance towards Taylor, who looked a tad like an alerted dog, head high, eyes trained in the treeline around them, tilting her head about to direct her ears towards something only she could hear.

“Fuck’re you doin’?” Amy grumbled, raising her own head.

“Don’t you hear- wait, no, of course you don’t.” Taylor started, then tilted her head again, brows furrowing. “I hear like… some kind of… chirping? There’s a bird somewhere there.” Taylor said, jutting her chin towards the trees. “It sounds weak and tired, and it won’t stop making this shrill, like… squeaking noise. I think it’s injured and calling for help, or trying to scare off something trying to eat it?” Taylor wondered.

Amy rubbed at her eyes, waking up a little more at that.

“Well shit, now I’m curious. Wanna check it out?” Amy asked Taylor.

Her daughter didn’t respond, looking at her with an expectant look, like waiting for her- wait, no, she was waiting for her permission.

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded, turning around to follow Taylor, who immediately switched directions.

“Let’s go, why not. Saving birds seems to be a family pass-time of ours, at this point.” She sighed with wry sarcasm.

Amy blinked at her long and slow, like a befuddled owl, like she just said something odd.

Taylor found it much funnier, giggling at her bad joke.

Hannah shook her head a little, and smiled, just following her girls off the beaten path.

Taylor fished around in the pine needles for a bit, following the shrill squeaking noises, before fishing out a… ball of white feathers, with a weird triangle peak hanging down.

They all stared at the wriggling thing, until Taylor realized what part was what, and flipped the feather ball, revealing a small bird head with an equally tiny beak atop a ball-like body.

It was just a baby bird that looked like it couldn’t even fly, much less walk.

Not because it was injured or hurt, but because it was so young its eyes were barely open yet.

“Oh my god, it’s tiny. ” Taylor gushed, wrapping her palms as best as she could around the wriggly, squeaking ball.

Amy pushed a finger into the ball of downy fluff.

“Yeah, it’s malnourished, and it’s got a couple broken bones. Probably got tossed out of its nest. Fixed. Welp, time to call a wildlife rescue and wait here for like four hours.” Amy sighed, seemingly annoyed.

Hannah tilted her head, confused.

“Why? I’m sure Taylor can just put it back in the nest, right?” She asked.

“Yep! I think I see it, actually.” Taylor hummed, craning her neck up and squinting against the sun.

Amy opened her mouth in hesitant confusion, seemingly baffled about something, before the look faded into realization.

“Oh. No no, it didn’t fall off the nest, guys. It got tossed out. If you put it back into the nest, its parents will just chuck it off again, and we won’t be here to save it.” Amy explained, before glancing down at the ball of fluff and rubbing its ugly little head with her finger, ignoring the way the baby bird tried to swallow her finger.

They both stared at her, Taylor in horror, and she herself, with confusion.

“Why would a bird toss its baby out?” She asked.

“So that the bird doesn’t have to split the little food it can find between as many mouths. When it’s got a runt, it makes sense to cull the one that probably won’t survive, so that its other babies and itself are more likely to survive with more food available.” Amy replied easily.

Taylor hugged the little bird, frowning.

“Nature sucks.”

“Yep. Anyway, Hannah, think you could call a couple wildlife rescues?” Amy asked.

She nodded, sitting down on a rock to search up some phone numbers.

“No answer?” Taylor asked, clearly expecting the same answer as the past four times.

She sighed, frustrated.

“Yes. Are they all taking a day off or what? ” She grumbled, annoyed.

How the hell did five wildlife rescues not answer one goddamn call between them?

“Wh- what do you mean you only do wolves and bears?” She asked, baffled, increasingly annoyed. “Your logo has an eagle on it!” She exploded.

“For donations, please press 8. To report an animal that needs rescue, please press 9-”

She pressed nine with enough force to make an audible clack against the screen, brow twitching.

It’s been an entire hour of calls, and none of them could come, would respond, or could help with ‘birds’. And just- so many automated voices. Who the hell needs that for a rescue!?

“There are no available responders at the time. Please call later-”

She closed the call, getting up off the rock to pace in place.

“Oh my fucking god.” She breathed out, baffled, rubbing at her brows.

It just cannot be this fucking difficult to call in someone to take this goddamn bird!

And she didn’t have the heart to just leave it! Taylor would cry!

“We don’t have the licence for avians, unfortunately. Could you drive it over to the center I mentioned before, maybe? Or you could call a ranger for some help?”  The young man on the other end of the line suggested.

Licence. You needed a specific licence to care for birds? Just- what?! It’s just a flying chicken! How hard could it be?

She took a slow, calming breath.

“Your center you suggested is on the literal other side of the country. We are in a forest. The warden’s phone number doesn’t exist, or someone wrote it wrong on the website, so I can’t call them. Do you know of any other way or place to save this thing?” She asked, patience slipping bit by bit.

“ Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhm… did you call Riley’s-”

“They don’t answer.”

“ Oh. Then, uh, no.”

She ended the call, holding in the desire to spike her phone at a rock.

Amy groaned, long and loud , sounding just as fed up as Hannah felt, getting off the log she was sitting on and gently grabbing the now sleeping bird from Taylor’s hands, to present it to her.

“Okay, fuck it, just bring it with us and we’ll see what happens.” Amy said. “We were going to some city or another at some point right, we could drive it over to one of these places and bust their goddamn door down. I can take care of its needs in the meantime.” Amy finished.

She stared down at the ball of fluff, which quickly stirred awake, and awkwardly took a hold of its twitching body, bringing it close to her body to warm the thing up.

Unfortunately, the little guy immediately got his foot hooked onto the edge of her cleavage, and in one paddle, found a spot that was secure, soft, and warm, and burrowed in.

Namely, between her boobs.

She sighed, exasperated, and just tugged her shirt up a little to hold the squirming thing in place better, turning around to walk back to the path.

The girls followed.

“So, what should we name it?” Taylor asked, eventually.

“Nothing. We aren’t keeping it.” She replied, stern.

“Boo…” Taylor mumbled, disappointed.

“Why not?” Amy asked, seemingly curious. “It’s not like we don’t already have two pet birds. A third won’t be a problem.”

She shook her head.

“Nope. Absolutely not. We do not need a third bird in the house. Waddles would murder this little guy anyway.” She said, her tone brokering no argument.

Amy hummed, and on they went.

Hannah hated to admit it, but…

The baby bird was kind of cute. In a… fugly kind of way.

At least it wasn’t too much of an annoyance once it settled down, squished into her cleavage by its own choice.

She was kind of uncomfortable with where it chose to sit, but at least it was secure and she didn’t have to think about it, so she bore with it.

She even caught herself smiling down at the little thing every once in a while, petting its twitchy little head to make it settle down its squirming.

Amy shot her a knowing look from atop Taylor’s back, and she rolled her eyes.

They were not keeping it, and that was final. They had too many damn birds already. She wasn’t going to turn their home into an aviary.

Eventually, she brought them to the river, and they got to work setting up their camp.

Unfortunately, tha-

…

Fortunately, ahem, that meant she had to move the little bird somewhere else because she started moving around a lot more.

Amy devised a funky knot that basically turned her scarf into a hammock for the bird, making it hang from her neck, nice and warm and contained enough to not flap out and hurt itself.

It was really nice, a quiet camp by the river. Taylor was cutting logs and carving wood with her tentacles, making benches for them to sit in, seemingly getting interested in woodcarving as well, judging by the doodle she drew of a grumpy Amy on one of the benches.

She was surprisingly decent at drawing, actually.

It made her proud, but it also made her realize that she still didn’t know everything about her daughter.

By the time they were done, it was mid-day, and Amy was tired, so they got together to make a makeshift fire to cook their camp foods with.

It was wonderful.

Taylor and Amy fumbled around with the ferrorod, bickering about how to start a fire without a lighter while Hannah gently directed them, smiling wide.

They made fresh bread, using a flat rock laid over the roaring fire, and some ready dough torn from a package. Then some hearty stew for them, and a nice, perfectly juicy, fatty steak for Taylor, who fed herself exclusively using her tentacles as a knife and fork.

Then she tried to teach them how to fish.

It didn’t help that… well, she didn’t have too much experience herself. She only took days off after Endbringer attacks, and those bastards all died a year and something ago.

So It was less fishing together, and more… fumbling around together trying to figure out how to fish.

It was… an absolute disaster, truth be told, but in hindsight, she thoroughly enjoyed herself.

She demonstrated how it worked, by catching a fish so tiny they couldn’t even eat it, and throwing it back in, before handing the rod off to the girls.

Amy somehow managed to throw the fishing line backwards, to start with. And over a branch above them.

Which meant that Taylor had to spend about five minutes trying to untangle the line from the pine needles before the branch snapped, making Taylor flop to the ground on her back from twelve feet up, covered in wet dirt and pine needles.

Finding herself muddy for the second time in one day, Taylor then sulked next to a snickering Amy by the river as they tried to catch bait fish.

It took a few minutes, but eventually they caught one, which made the girls inordinately excited, up until Taylor went to grab it and squeezed the thing so tight it got launched out from between her fingers like a bouncy ball, straight back into the water.

This was then followed by Taylor gasping, and before she could stop her daughter, the girl had already torn tentacles out of her back and launched herself straight into the river to get the fish again.

Granted, her clothes couldn’t possibly get any dirtier, but still, Hannah wasn’t ready for that, and her brain forgot that Taylor was a parahuman for a second, making her heart leap into her throat.

Some small part of her brain tickled in a way that just seemed right, like Taylor was perfectly in her element here, a superpredator loose in the wild, like watching a lion in the savannah, but there was just something missing.

Prey, namely. Watching a lion in a barren savannah, without food in sight.

It was a strange feeling, but she had a hard time thinking too much of it while watching Taylor zip around in the river, her tentacles displacing half the damn flow while she sped around under the frothy surface.

She emerged not with a tiny fish, but a giant salmon hanging off her left hand, and a smaller fish she didn’t recognize in her mouth, still wriggling about.

“Mphvh!” Taylor cheered, mouth full of fish, tentacles steadying her against the stream, raising the salmon in her hand like a trophy, eyes bright and triumphant.

Hannah laughed and clapped, proud, embedding the image into her mind.

Taylor then shivered, and quickly swam back to them, before spitting the small fish out onto her right hand, mouth set in a grimace.

“Ew ew ew ew fish taste ew-” Taylor squeaked, spitting fish blood out of her mouth, before hurriedly handing her both fish, and turning around to jump back in the river, washing her mouth out, lowering her head to drink water then spit it out, cleaning her hand to the best of her ability in the meantime.

Amy was laughing, Hannah was just watching in exasperated astonishment at how this could possibly go in such a different direction than she intended, and then Amy tossed the fishing line to Taylor, still snickering.

Taylor looked at it bouncing around her stomach, then raised a brow at Amy.

“C’mon, grab it so I can say I caught something at least, even if it’s just a Taylor.” Amy chuckled, wiggling the rod about.

Taylor’s eyes gleamed with mischief, and she grabbed the fishing line only to yank it, sending Amy into the river with a shriek, a tentacle moving to hover under her protectively, just in case she hit something on the river bed, keeping a steady distance from Amy’s actual body.

Another tentacle quickly stole the fishing rod and line, and carelessly tossed it back onto the shore, next to Hannah.

She sputtered, shocked for a moment as her brain caught up.

Debating whether or not to admonish Taylor for yanking Amy into cold water, she quickly realized couldn’t quite bring herself to do it as Amy surfaced and they began to play-fight, again, Amy squeaking out insults and chants of ‘fuck fuck fuck it’s so cold you asshole!’ while trying to fake-drown Taylor, who seemed equally focused on keeping them from moving in the stream as she was trying to pretend she was struggling against Amy.

While some part of her worried, she decided Taylor wouldn’t put Amy in actual danger… pretty much no matter what, so she decided it was safe enough to just entrust the situation to them.

After a minute of cautiously watching the two teenagers pretend to have a fight to the death in a relatively cold river,  she just sighed, chuckled a little at herself for expecting anything to go to plan when these two were involved, then turned around to go prepare the fish.

At least Amy couldn’t get sick, thank god.

“Be careful girls! I’ll get the fire ready, and a change of clothes. Taylor, be careful with Amy!” She called.

“Yep!” Taylor called out, voice full of fake strain.

“Grhh you absolute goddamn troll!” Amy howled, barely heard over the rushing water.

The little bird in her scarf started squeaking again, disturbed by all the noise.

…She just focused on preparing the fish.

“... Okay, but you have to admit that that was fun.” Taylor told her with a grin, soaking wet from head to toe, wrapped in a towel to preserve her modesty, mostly for the sake of Amy, while she sat on a log, wearing nothing but her underwear, her clothes hung by a branch next to the fire to dry with her.

Her sister’s tentacles were firmly draped over her shivering shoulders, in the same exact situation, huddled next to the fire half-naked with a towel around her shoulders and upper thighs, her feet resting on a fire-warmed rock to get dry.

She sniffed imperiously, taking another nibble of her salmon with her plastic cutlery.

It tasted nice. And she wasn’t that cold now. And the fire was nice and cozy, even if it was mid-day.

“I’m not talking to you.” She grumbled in reply. She was not pouting.

A tentacle gently poked her shoulder.

“C’moooon, you had fun! I know you did.” Taylor wheedled good-naturedly, smiling wide at her.

Amy’s lips betrayed her, twitching into a smile before flattening again.

“... A little.” She grudgingly admitted.

Taylor’s joy about the situation seemed to double.

…Goddamn it, why couldn’t she stay mad at this dork?

“So, any idea what this thing actually is?” Hannah abruptly asked, the weight in her scarf wiggling around again as she pointed at it.

Amy paused while putting a new, dry shirt on, and blinked at the woman, mind racing.

Uuuhm… shit, she wasn’t a goddamn wizard, how was she supposed to know? Her power didn’t label things for her.

“Uuuuhm… I- we can take a guess? I don’t know any non… urban birds. I’ve never touched an owl, or an eagle, or a… I don’t know, a kestrel before. A pigeon and a parrot here and there.” She replied, and yanked her shirt down, walking over.

“I mean… it doesn’t look like an owl. How many birds does Canada have?” Taylor asked.

“Like a hundred, at least?” Amy hummed, coming close and opening the scarf to look at the bird while Hannah awkwardly looked down at it. “But the size and beak narrow things down a lot. It looks like some kind of predator bird, nothing small. Maybe a particularly weird parrot, but this ain’t the climate for that, so it’s probably an eagle of some kind.”

Taylor blinked, then opened her phone, searching it up.

Then she let out a startled laugh of disbelief.

“Oh my god, I’m ninety percent sure that’s a bald eagle. There’s just n-n-o wayahahahah-” Taylor trailed off, laughing freely.

Amy walked over, and took the phone, before showing it to her.

That was a picture of a baby bald eagle.

She looked down at her scarf, and the tiny scraggly head poking out of the knot.

The exact same, if a tiny bit smaller.

“Oh.” She replied, blinking slowly.

Immediately, she felt a lot more respect for the fugly little thing, because it was a bald eagle. She thought it was some… woodpecker, or… she doesn’t know any bird species, but still, she wasn’t expecting an actual bald eagle.

While some part of her had idolised the bald eagle simply for its association with America when young, another older part of her simply had to admit that they were absolutely majestic creatures.

Together, they combined to make her feel… weird.

Like, she wasn’t holding onto some weird bird, she was holding onto a genuinely majestic creature that was the literal symbol of her country.

What would you look like when you grow up?, she wondered, then banished the thought immediately, raising her head to look at her kids.

“We’re still not keeping it.” She insisted, then glanced down, completely unable to stop herself from visualising the image of the little guy all grown up, perched onto her shoulder… if he could even fit. These things were massive when they grew up.

She would know, she had a photoshoot with one, years ago. It was about as large as her torso. She remembered her shoulder aching from having to hold her arm up for the eagle to sit on . And she remembered feeling almost like a giddy child holding a dragon.

She shook her head.

“Not keeping him. I’m not even sure it’s legal to have him.”

“Nobody said anything about keeping him just now.” Amy smirked, a knowing look in her eyes.

She huffed.

“Well, good. Because we aren’t. Keeping it.” She finished, nodded to herself, then glanced up at the trees, looking for something to distract herself and the girls from the unfathomably tempting idea of keeping the bird.

Which, she wasn’t going to do.

…She didn’t even like birds.

…They had too many already.

They were not keeping it.

She didn’t even want a bald eagle. At all.

“Taylor, want to take us up a tree now? You mentioned it before.” She shot off hurriedly.

Taylor’s eyes widened with a small gasp.

“Yes! Let’s go!”

Diversion successfully created, she followed Taylor as she started looking around for a tall, sturdy tree.

Amy kept silently laughing at something beside her.

Sitting up high amongst the treetops was…

Enchantingly beautiful.

The shyness of the crown of each tree was in full display, a complex maze of tiny gaps between the leaves of each and every tree trying not to touch the other. The sun in the back, the rustle of trees, the view, holy fuck, the view.

She could enjoy all that a little bit more, a little bit sooner, if she wasn’t squished between Hannah and Taylor.

Taylor had been weirdly insistent that she sit next to Hannah for once, which led to her being tense and nervous with Hannah’s arm slung over her shoulders, her hand gently rubbing up and down Amy’s right arm.

It took a solid fifteen minutes for her to actually relax, and just enjoy the view, kicking her feet in time with Taylor as they all sat on one of her tentacles, one hovering around them protectively like a belt, while two more held them up on the tree.

Taylor put her head on her shoulder, leaning on her, and she relaxed further, until she was half-slumped over onto Hannah, half from Taylor’s weight, and half from…

F-from… look, she was tired, okay? She didn’t…

Okay, some small part of her guiltily indulged in the happiness that Hannah felt over Amy being… close to her. Even if it meant nothing. Probably. Almost definitely. So that- contributed, a little, to her decision to huddle closer.

Hannah biting her lip in what she thought was secrecy, absolutely inwardly giddy over something so simple, made it all worth it, even if Amy still could not understand this woman.

If nothing else, making Hannah happy made her happy, so she was fine with being a little closer.

At some point, Hannah wanted to go down and do some work in their little camp, so Taylor took them both down to the ground, then took Amy back up to enjoy the now afternoon sun a little more.

Amy just wasn’t expecting Taylor to randomly start another super serious conversation out of nowhere.

Almost casually, Taylor bumped her shoulder with hers, then asked, “Hey, so, would you mind telling me what that emotional addiction you talked about was, at the hospital? It had- something to do with why you can’t get attracted to people, right?”

Her head creaked to the side to stare at Taylor as if on a rusty pulley, wide eyed and really regretful that she went to such detail, even if it was a half-lie.

“Uh- where’s this- coming from?” She haltingly croaked out, hands suddenly clammy, and not just from the dizzying height of the branch they were now sitting on.

She couldn’t tell her. Nobody but her and Vicky should ever know her greatest guilt and shame. If she had a choice, she’d make the both of them forget it as well, like it never happened.

The fact she was a dirty freak should die with her. She didn’t even like thinking about it, because it maintained that- concept, in her memory, instead of letting it fade.

Taylor hummed, still staring off into the forest.

“I just started thinking what a nice date it would be if you were here with Alice instead of me, or if I could help you out and make something like this happen but- you know, with her, like carrying you two up a tree or something and letting you hang out. Then I got to wondering about some stuff you said.” Taylor half-rambled.

She gulped with nerves, and made a humm, not answering, tracing distant mountain peaks with her eyes instead.

An awkward silence stretched.

“So… what was that addiction about? I don’t know why but I can’t figure it out at all and it’s gotten me really curious.” Taylor asked, tentatively.

How to… how to shut this down… damn it.

Partial truth, maybe?

“It’s- the kind of… secret I don’t even want to think about, so that I forget it as well, with time. I don’t- want to tell anyone else, ever.” She whispered, muscles tight, a strange phantom chill racing up her veins. “It’s- too much shame.” She finished, a small breath.

Taylor turned, blinking innocent eyes at her.

Amy saw with her power, a flare of negative emotions in her brain, a touch of… concealed hurt in there, some kind of emotional pain that made Amy’s throat tighten with panic, even if none showed on her sister’s face.

All she saw in Taylor’s face was a soft expression of compassion, but she could feel the vague, negative emotions churning around inside her sister, intense and overwhelming to a normal mind.

Shit, she didn’t want Taylor to think that she didn’t trust her with her secrets, even when Taylor never kept any from her. Even if Taylor said nothing, hurting her hurt Amy ten times more than she could handle. She had to fix this.

She loved Taylor way too much to make that kind of misunderstanding happen.

A show of trust… shit, a show of trust, a show of trust-

An old memory, of her and Vicky doing a trust fall exercise, but in the air, something faded with time and without context, surfaced, and she got a sudden idea that had her straightening, licking her dry lips.

“Hey, have you ever done a trust exercise with someone before?” She asked, out of the blue.

Taylor made a funny face, side-eyeing her.

“No? I’m not even sure what those are. I know one where you fall and someone catches you?” Taylor half-asked.

She nodded.

“There are others. I- want to do one? Right now?” She asked.

Taylor hesitated.

“I’m not sure it’s safe to do anything weird up here.”

She shook her head.

“That’s the point, it’s not a real trust exercise if there is no risk entrusted to the other person. Help me up.” She said, already reaching for the surrounding branches.

Her vision of Taylor’s biology cut off as the tentacles emerged, leaving her even more blind than usual.

Taylor hurriedly used her tentacles to get up and help her up as well, at least three ready at all times to pluck her off the branch if it snapped or if she slipped off.

Thoughtful, usually, but now she honestly wished she could see her biology more than anything, to see how much she had to make up for.

She shuffled, until she was facing Taylor on the branch, who blinked owlishly at her, seemingly confused.

“Okay. So the trust exercise is this.” She started, soft, glancing about to make sure Hannah couldn’t see them. “You grab my wrists. You can feel my pulse like that too. Make sure I can’t grab onto your hands at all. Then I lean back off the branch with only my feet on it, and you hold me up. It’s-”

“That’s a little- extreme?” Taylor cut in, skeptical.

Amy swallowed, nervous.

“Well, for normal people, yes. But you’re a parahuman. Whether I fall to my death or not is entirely your choice. You have enough power and limbs to make sure no accidents happen.” She explained.

Taylor’s scepticism grew.

“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty safe for us-”

“So grab me.” She said, voice dead serious, as she extended her wrists to Taylor.

Taylor blinked down at her wrists, then her determined expression, steely. She obviously didn’t quite understand something, but she didn’t voice it, gently taking her by the wrists.

Amy wriggled around, trying to grab Taylor’s hands or sleeves with her fingers.

Taylor moved to help her.

“No no, make sure I can’t grab onto anything. It’s- the trust exercise is all about putting someone’s literal life in their exercise partner’s hands.” She whispered.

Taylor slowly did as asked, grabbing her wrists more fully.

“That’s pretty morbid.” Taylor murmured.

She couldn’t help but snicker a little, perhaps half nerves, half humour.

“Okay, now I gotta lean off the branch, so uh, lemme fit in front of you.” She whispered, and started awkwardly shuffling forward and sideways with Taylor until they were chest-to-chest.

Taylor’s tentacles tightened on the tree until the bark began to crack, the grip on her wrists turning bruising.

“Relax.” She said, calmly.

“I feel like I should be the one saying that…” Taylor mumbled, obviously nervous. “Why are we whispering?”

She thought for a moment.

“Uhm, Hannah might scold you for this, so we’re trying to keep quiet?”

Taylor’s expression turned into a grimace, but surprisingly, she didn’t immediately abort the mission at the mere idea of motherly disapproval.

“I’m gonna lean back, alright? Just to prove a point, focus on my pulse.” She whispered, then closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

“I can hear it when I focus, dummy.” Taylor reminded her, and she blushed in embarrassment.

“Shut up. Leaning back now.” She said, then with a deep breath, leaned back a little, slowly, only an inch or two.

Immediately, the grip on her wrists turned downright painful.

She hissed in slight pain.

“Taylor, less tight.” She ground out.

“S-sorry.” Taylor mumbled, then lightened the pressure, only a tiny bit.

She leaned another two inches back, more and more of her weight moving to her feet as she gave up the safety of something being beneath her.

Slowly, both their hands extended, until they couldn’t any more.

Amy’s body was almost horizontal on the branch by the time she couldn’t lean back any more.

She actually relaxed a little, letting out a long breath as she opened her eyes, staring up at the bright blue sky.

It was pretty ni-

The thought got cut off with her getting yanked back up the branch with a squeal of shock, crashing into Taylor’s chest, and then immediately feeling herself get utterly entrapped in a vice grip of arms and tentacles, her face smushed onto Taylor’s shoulder before she had time to process it, an arm of iron tight around her waist while another wrapped around her shoulders to press gently against the back of her head, keeping her head pinned to a hard shoulder.

She took a second to process this before relaxing.

“What the fuck Taylor.” She growled, weakly thumping a fist on Taylor’s back. “You scared the fuck out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Taylor sheepishly murmured into her hair. “I just kept worrying I’d somehow let you slip or something, I couldn’t take it. How the hell did your pulse not even speed up?”

She sighed, and shrugged.

“I trust you.”

Taylor giggled, light and happy.

“Yeah, I think I got that. What was the point of doing this though?”

She shrunk a little in Taylor’s embrace, grimacing.

“The point was- to show you that I don’t want to tell you that little secret not because I don’t trust you, but because I just- I want it to disappear. Act like it never existed until it might as well not have.” She replied.

Taylor shuffled sideways, until Amy’s back was against the tree, then slowly released her, backing up a step to tilt her head at her, brows furrowed.

“I- yeah, I mean, I know that.”

She stared at Taylor.

Taylor stared at her.

“But- I saw your biology, and you- you were upset.” She said, tentatively.

Taylor’s brows furrowed, before her eyes widened, waving a dismissive hand.

“No no, I wasn’t upset about that, or at you, I was just- I was upset that you went through something so terrible you literally want to forget it like that. I mean, I still want to know, but if you don't want to say, that's fine, I get it. I can- empathise, with wanting to forget. You know, like… my dad?” Taylor whispered, an example, grimacing at the mere mention.

She winced, nodding, then paused.

“Wait, so I just… misunderstood?” She asked, a blush colouring her cheeks.

Taylor nodded, an amused smile curling her lips.

“So this was pointless.” She deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“... At least it was fun.” She sighed, lowering herself on the branch to sit back down.

“You have a terrible definition of fun.” Taylor dryly remarked, sitting down as well, all four tentacles hovering around her protectively like a paranoid guardian angel.

She smiled, then once Taylor sat down, leaned her head onto her shoulder, huddling close for warmth.

“Danger is fun.” She said, simply.

“I’m going to wrap you in bubble wrap and carry you around like a fucking suitcase.” Taylor threatened, eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“Fucking try it.” She snickered the dare, elbowing Taylor’s side. "Also, since when do you swear?"

Taylor paused, surprised, and almost dismayed.

"...You're a terrible, corruptive influence."

"Yep." She agreed without hesitation.