Not needing to sleep is wonderful. I’ve been up all night fretting constantly, and I’m still not even that tired. As long as I keep moving, I should be able to outpace my exhaustion.

  I’ll have to get some sleep at some point, but until Amelia is awake again, I don’t feel particularly pressed.

  With my senses expanded to keep my room in my awareness, I go to the kitchen and get another bottle of water before checking to make sure Bianca is still asleep.

  We’re approaching morning, so she’s going to be getting up sooner or later, but I can hope that she doesn’t do it anytime soon.

  Bianca’s situation handled, I return to my room, placing a bottle of water on the nightstand before taking another draw from my own. “How much longer are you going to be sleeping in?” I ask, settling into my computer chair and spinning around idly as I wait.

  Amelia doesn’t elect to respond to me, but I didn’t expect her to.

  If she doesn’t wake up today, I’m going to have to talk to someone. Probably Sasha or Travis. I don’t know who else I could talk to about how she’s completely incapacitated and needs healing but couldn’t go to a normal hospital.

  By the time we had reached my home, she had stopped bleeding. So, I know she heals fast, hopefully faster than me.

  “I don’t know how to do this without you.” I admit brushing a strand of hair out of her face before pulling my hand away. “Just wake up for me.”

  Unluckily she doesn’t wake up to my words.

  About forty-five more minutes till we get to the time she usually woke up before all of this, hopefully habits run deeper than all of this.

  Mentally running through everything I have prepared for when she wakes up, I breathe out a sigh of relief. It’ll all be fine.

  I fight off a yawn as my eyes feel heavy. I got stuck doing nothing too long, and I am getting tired again.

  Part of me thinks of cooking something, but I don’t want to do that; it might wake everyone up, and it could convince Amelia to try and get out of bed instead of resting in bed like she’s supposed to be doing.

  Twenty minutes later, Amelia’s eyes flutter open, and I wait, wondering if she’s just tossing in her sleep or if she’s actually going to get up.

  “That’s not my ceiling.” Amelia comments. “Jason, I’m sorry my dreams have been invading your apartment.”

  “You and your dreams can invade my apartment whenever you want, I promise,” I laugh.

  “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Amelia agrees.

  “You’re safe. And it’s not a dream,” I say, letting the joke die.

  Amelia slowly sits up before pulling her hands to her face, flexing her fingers. She looks almost the same.

  Outside the splotches of icy blue white skin and the eye color change in her right eye. Or that her hair is paling and slightly turning blue along with it, that's new.

  “Feeling nostalgic, huh?” She says, tugging at the sleeve of the paint-splattered hoodie.

  “Always am.” I agree. “Is there one that you would have preferred to wear?”

  Amelia tucks her arms into the hoodie seeking extra warmth. “Nope, this one is my favorite, and it’s perfect.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long.”

  “Hey you got it in three strikes, right? I would have been mad if there had been a fourth though,” she jokes.

  “I did.”

  “I always hoped you would come back to me. Save me.”

  “Through hell or high water, I’ll go through it all to rescue you. You’re part of my world, and as long as you’ll have me, that means you belong at my side,” I say, looking at the ceiling.

  “Even if hell freezes over?” She giggles.

  “Hell froze over when I thought you were dead. And we’re back to normal, right?” I say, looking at her and flashing a smile.

  “That you did.” She agrees. “Now get the fuck over here and hug me because I have not had a proper hug since the night I got caught.”

  I oblige hugging Amelia gently, not wanting to disturb her injuries. I pointedly decide not to mention she feels slightly cold. It doesn’t bother me at all. It’s refreshing.

  Amelia feels no such qualms, and if I didn’t have enhanced endurance, I think she would have bruised something.

  Once the hug is completed, I return to my chair smiling.

  “Uh, Jason?” Amelia says, looking past me at something.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is your apartment haunted by a tiny white-haired girl covered in scars? Because if so, I want to be treated in a different place. I didn’t sign up to be a ghost hunter,” she says, still glaring at the door before her expression softens.

  I start laughing so hard I reach a hand out to the bed to steady myself.

  Amelia starts poking my arm. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” each one emphasized with a poke. “What are you laughing at?”

  “You’ll like her,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye.

  “Her?” She sounds incredulous. “Who’s her?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Amelia harrumphs dramatically, crossing her arms. “Well, I’m waiting to meet your mysterious guest.”

  “Hey Bianca,” I say, giving her a wave as she peeks into my room, a singular eye staring in, most of her body hidden behind the door.

  Bianca gives a little wave as she stares transfixed at Amelia.

  “Oh, who’s this little angel?” Amelia asks, looking at Bianca with a shocked expression on her face.

  Seeing that nothing scary is happening, Bianca opens the door more and walks towards us, skirting around the bed before stopping right before my chair, looking up at me.

  Pulling Bianca into my lap, I stroke her hair as I try to figure out an answer. “Bianca is more or less my daughter.” I say, finally giving up on thinking of a good one.

  “Dramatic gasp!” Amelia says, in fact not gasping. “It’s been years! I thought you promised to never move on from me!” she wails. “Did so much time pass for us that our promised love became nothing to you!”

  “It’s been less than two months. And we made no such promise.”

  It’s too late for me though, I’m sure.

  “You got married. Knocked up some poor lady and had a daughter with her!” She cries, pointing at me dramatically.

  “I’m not married.”

  “You’re divorced!”

  “Not that either.”

  Amelia gasps, clapping her hands to her face. “You’re a widow!”

  “I have never been married. I did not get anyone pregnant. I’m adopting Bianca,” I say, patting Bianca on the head as she looks between me and Amelia in confusion.

  “You know it’s so much more fun when you decide to play along, spoilsport,” Amelia complains, sticking her tongue out at me.

  “I’m sorry for not being more amusing,” I say, feeling myself relax.

  “You want to come over here and sit with me?” Amelia asks, holding out outstretched arms towards Bianca.

  Bianca looks at Amelia before looking back at me, confusion sparkling in her eye.

  “Bianca, this is Amelia. She’s my best friend.” I say after a moment. “Just like your friends you see with Ms. Sasha.”

  Bianca takes in that statement for a moment before twisting around and reaching out for Amelia.

  Now situated in Amelia’s lap, Bianca looks at Amelia’s slightly pulled-up sleeve, looking at the scars on her arm before looking back to her own.

  “Yup, it looks like you and I match, isn’t that pretty sweet.” Amelia agrees, holding her hand up so that Bianca can see the scars.

  Bianca gives a comforting pat on Amelia’s hand.

  Amelia flexes her fingers, and above us, snow begins to materialize, drifting down. “Hey look, Bianca, I can make it snow whenever we want. Can’t be sad while the world is sparkling right?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Bianca nods appreciatively as she reaches out to catch the snow.

  “So, ice powers,” I ask, watching the two of them.

  “Yup. Definitely worth all the trauma to get them.” Amelia says pointedly, not looking me in the eye as she says it.

  “Maybe,” I agree noncommittally.

  “So, you going to ask me what happened, or you going to just keep looking at me like a dolt?” Amelia teases, snapping her fingers and shooting finger guns at me.

  “I can put some of it together myself. And I do want to know, but you being okay is more important to me,” I say, waving off the question.

  “Nah, you gave me the origin story, so I’ll do the same,” Amelia says, holding Bianca gently, letting more snow drift down around them.

  I do my best to ignore the fact that they’re going to get water everywhere. Though maybe Amelia can make ice and snow vanish too.

  “I’ll listen.”

  “So after my dramatic fight where I shot that one fucker in the face I was captured.” Amelia says, and I feel like she’s starting this story in not exactly the greatest spot. “I did not have the genetic potential to become a super like you did. But I was about as perfect of a match as they could get for a super they had accidentally killed in trying to juice up her powers.”

  “No,” I say in a whisper.

  “Yup. I became Frankenstein's monster, my body ripped apart and stitched together with that girl's. And during all the surgeries, they must have installed all of that control stuff.” Amelia nods. “You can probably figure it out from there.”

  I gently pat her leg. “It’s all going to be okay, right?”

  “I’m just sorry I wasn’t strong enough to fight out and escape. Then we could have skipped the whole brainwashed nemesis arc,” Amelia says, looking at the snow.

  “Amelia,” I say firmly. “My power lets me run away from anything. Escape out of any container. You did the best you could.”

  “I did.” Amelia agrees. “Though it is probably really weird that I’m better at using my powers like ass instead of good.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, whatever they did to me meant they could trigger my power, but whatever magical junk makes superpowers work was still under my control. So I made it hard.” Amelia explains.

  I lean back in my chair as I tuck one ankle under the other knee, trying to piece that together.

  “You froze the ice in bad shapes?” I try.

  “Mostly. Turns out it’s really hard to bend any of your joints if the ice is there.”

  “Unless you have the strength to keep it up and break ice.”

  “Well, I didn’t know I had super strength, now did I?” Amelia laughs.

  “You’re going to be a hero, right?” I say.

  “Of course I am,” she says. “After I rest and recover for a bit. Wouldn’t mind being an ordinary girl for a bit.” She admits before glancing at her hands. “Though it looks like I got in a fight with a paint bucket and lost.”

  “You don’t have the best track record when it comes to fighting paint buckets, do you?” I tease, leaning away from the impending swipe.

  The swipe doesn’t come.

  I turn my face to have the snowball collide with my face.

  Guess I deserve that one, don’t I?

  “Are you going to throw snowballs at me every time I irritate you?” I ask, laughing.

  “No, I might freeze your left sock at some point though?” She offers.

  “Why the left sock?”

  “Because you always tuck your right ankle underneath your leg so you would warm up your right ankle that way. But you don’t do that with your left ankle, so that’s what I must do to torment you,” Amelia explains.

  I open my mouth a few times trying to figure out exactly what my thoughts are.

  She’s not wrong, I guess.

  “If I promise to be a good person, will you let me not have a frozen sock?” I ask hopefully.

  “If you delight and entertain me, we can maybe come to an agreement,” Amelia says, giving me a thumbs up.

  “I love you,” I say the words, burbling out.

  “Awww, I love you too,” Amelia says, smiling.

  “So how are you feeling?” I ask, scooting closer.

  “I’m feeling really good right now, I promise,” Amelia says, cuddling Bianca as if that’s the universal sign that she is in fact doing good.

  “And I think that I know you better than that.” I say before getting up. “Bianca, can you keep an eye on her for me while I get us all breakfast in bed?” I ask, giving Bianca a wink as I move towards the door.

  Bianca gives me a nod before squirming around and looking up at Amelia with what I hope is a serious expression because that would be endlessly amusing for me.

  “How am I supposed to pass the time with nothing to entertain me and this sweet angel of a daughter you have?” Amelia says, conjuring small flurries of snow, shaping them into things as they dance around the room.

  “Tablet next to you is charged and has all of your comfort shows downloaded at least three seasons of each.” I say, pointing at the tablet in question.

  Amelia lets out an excited gasp as she snatches the tablet up, snuggling up with Bianca, pulling a blanket over the both of them. “Bianca, I’m going to show you some of the greatest shows in the universe.”

  With my family well in hand, I leave my bedroom, walking over to the kitchen, pulling out my phone to see I missed a call from Asher.

  “What is it?” I ask as I heat up the pan.

  “I wanted to make sure that you weren’t dead.” Asher says. “And wondering if the plan is still on.”

  “What do you mean the plan is still on?”

  “I mean, are you with me? You don’t have a vendetta anymore. Are you still going to help me take down the lab and other stuff between now and then?” Asher asks, and I can’t help but feel a little bit hurt about such a question. Does he really think I would just throw him to the wolves like that?

  I retract my mind sense as I formulate a response. “I don’t know; I’m still angry; I still want them to hurt. But the anger is a lot quieter now.”

  “But still there?”

  “My friend is back; my family is safe. I’m safe. We all have powers and are successfully recovering. But just because I pulled four aces in this situation doesn’t mean that everyone got to have that. I want my home to be safe so we can do that.”

  Asher sighs in relief. “So how long are you going to keep me on hold?”

  “At least until Thanksgiving. Amelia needs to heal, and you need to pause my armor or change it so that it’ll fit her.” I say, cracking a few eggs into the pan.

  “Why would I—she’s going to join us? In a week?” Asher says, going from confusion to shock as quickly as breathing.

  “Yup. Amelia and I are going to be a team. At least for a while.” I say, hating that last sentence.

  “I’ll put something together, but no promises that I’ll make anything really special. It might end up similar to yours.” Asher says.

  “More than enough. You should lay low too.”

  “I will. We gave them a black eye, and we’re reforming stronger. Everyone’s probably going to take a chill pill.” Asher agrees.

  “I hope so.”

  “Jason, stay safe. And take time to think about what you really want.”

  “You too. See you on Thanksgiving.” I say, changing the subject away from my future. It can remain bleak and undefined, thank you very much.

  “Schedule a time to have me meet Amelia so we can figure out her costume.”

  With that, we hang up, and I return to cooking breakfast.

  While I don’t have any idea if Amelia’s consumption needs have changed, I cook an overly large breakfast for no other reason than my capacity to emotionally eat is second to none and I’ll get good use out of it.

  Platters piled high, I bump open the door to my room. “Breakfast is served, ladies.” I say in a fake posh voice.

  Amelia and Bianca sit up, both smiling, as I place food in front of them.

  “I’ll be right back. I need to go get mine.” I say, rushing out of the room and grabbing my own plate before returning to my chair.

  “God, Jason, I would be such a whore for your cooking if you weren’t willing to give it for free.” Amelia comments between mouthfuls of omelet.

  “Could you at least not do so in my bedroom?”

  “Where else am I supposed to do it? Huh? You got any better ideas?” Amelia taunts, pointing her fork at me.

  “That was my fault. But please not in front of Bianca.” I sigh, trying and failing not to smile.

  “Okay, change of subject. So, Bianca, did you know your daddy can sing?” Amelia says, changing the subject.

  Bianca looks up from her plate and looks at me perplexed. She points at the tablet before pointing at me again, tilting her head to the side.

  “You were watching a musical, weren’t you?” I accuse.

  “I was watching the musical.” Amelia agrees.

  “Yes, I can sing. Bianca did it through high school and college.” I say already knowing where this is going.

  “Okay, Bianca, now we’re both going to pout together like we practiced convincing your daddy to sing for us because his voice is like a massage to the brain.” Amelia stage whispers.

  “If you wanted someone to sing, you could have sung.” I say slowing down the rate I eat food to try to think of a way out of it.

  “I’m tone deaf. And Bianca doesn’t talk about who else is going to sing?” Amelia says.

  I meet her eyes to see she is in fact pouting. And a glance at Bianca also has her pouting at me.

  I am weak willed unfortunately.

  “Do you want me to sing for you?” I ask, setting my plate on my desk.

  Hair goes flying as both of them nod their heads rapidly. They aren’t at a metal concert; they don’t need to go that hard.

  “Sing us a princess love song! Serenade us!”

  “I’m only doing one song because I want to finish eating.” I say, standing up as I run through the list of songs I have memorized enough.

  “High five, Bianca, we're the best! We got him to do what we want!” Amelia says high fiving Bianca. “He’s pretty easy to get to do what you want, big softie at heart.” She stage-whispers while I glare.

  She gives me a cheery wave. “Love you too!”

  Three songs later, because I have no capacity to say no to them and I finally get the chance to finish my food.

  “So I know about the bonuses you have, but now that I’m the same, I was wondering.” Amelia says, handing me her and Bianca’s plates so I can stack them with mine without worrying about getting the bed dirty.

  “Besides my eyes?” I ask, leaning back. “Not that I can think of. Constantly being aware of everything sucks, but as I’ve gotten better at controlling it, things have gotten easier.”

  “Lucky.” Amelia grumbles. “What about you, Bianca? Any bad parts about powers?”

  Bianca stops playing with the snow to consider the question before shaking her head. Which I don’t know if I believe, but who am I to say what downsides for a power exist.

  Bianca is happy, so that’s all I need in that department.

  “What about you?” I ask before the conversation can derail.

  “Me? I thought you knew me.” She jokes.

  “Any downsides with the powers?”

  “Besides the fact I constantly feel chilly and that I’m frigid to the touch, I don’t think there’s anything besides my appearance that is a downside about all of this. You know, after I go a few rounds with a therapist or two.”

  “You’re not cold to the touch.” I say.

  “I’m pretty sure I would freeze water if it were left on me long enough.” Amelia snorts.

  “You’re not cold.” I reaffirm.

  “We’ll put it to an impartial judge.” Amelia says, holding a hand out to Bianca. “So, Bianca, am I cold to hold hands with?”

  Bianca looks at me before wrapping her hand around Amelia’s fingers for a second before pulling her hands away, nodding.

  The expression on my face must have shown because Bianca immediately switches her direction, shaking her head side to side aggressively.

  “Jason,” Amelia says, laughing. “It’s okay, I promise.”

  I grab Amelia’s hand, holding it gently. “You’re not cold.” I say again firmly. I bring her hand up, pressing it against my cheek. “You feel warm to me.”

  “Jason, if you're going to keep holding my hand, could you at least sit on the bed with us so I don't have to reach halfway across the world?” Amelia says pointedly, tightening her grip.

  “What kind of movie do you want to watch?” I ask moving over and sitting in the bed with Amelia and Bianca.

  “Is there anything good that came out while I was a supervillain?”

  “Not really.”

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