Alternate thread title: A Crisis of Faith

Blood never stained her green Carhart hoodie. The second the rain hit it, it had just washed away. As if nothing had ever happened. It was that way by design. Knife-resistant, bulletproof. The same couldn’t have been said about her.

Amelia was a mess. Both physically and emotionally. What had happened, well it had been a mistake. Unavoidable? Maybe. But a mistake. When people had come to clean up afterwards, there had been friendly banter, understanding, camaraderie. It had made her sick.

Nobody had batted an eye when she’d said she was gonna bail. It was all done, save the tidying. She was no longer needed. She’d done enough. They’d never even asked if she needed a medic. Or someone to talk to about what had happened. People in the organization are tough like that. If it had been the NYPD, she’d have done paperwork until it was time to talk on the couch.

She hardly remembered the walk through the rain to her car. Or dialing, while drops pattered on the cars roof like machine gun fire. Or the phone ringing, ringing for a while she thought. What time was it? After 11:00. Nearly 12:00. Late. Anyone with a lick of sense would have been asleep.

Finally, after a figurative eternity, the woman picked up. Amelia heard the person answer, but for a second, nothing clicked.

What did one even say in a situation like this? They hadn’t spoken in ages, and before that they’d hardly spoken at all. Yet she trusted them, and she’d already pushed away most of the other people she trusted in her life. With her life.

It came out thready, quiet. The one word that she could make sense of. “Help.” They may have been monitoring her communications. She hadn’t thought of it until that moment. And she didn’t care. She repeated the first thought. “Help.” And added onto it. “It’s Amelia. I need help. Are you okay if I come over now? I’m a— mess.”

Now that it was out, all she could do was cross her fingers and pray.

Life was almost normal for Becca. Well, as normal as life could be for a teacher living and working at a Mutant Mansion. Her classes were fuller than ever with an influx of Atlantean students keeping her busy. Living with Mirror was second nature and keeping her mood up. Even her ViewTube videos were taking off after a recent colab with one of the higher-ranked channels on the platform.

As an X-Man, Lodestone was putting in her time, but things were honestly mundane. There was crime, but nothing crazy like the Halloween witches or the living building. She had the anxious nagging feeling that something big was coming, but until another tear in reality opened up, she could only do her job.

Well, jobs. Coming back from patrol, Becca was exhausted peeling herself out of her costume and the harness she wore underneath. It was late and she got into an argument with SUPER agents after apprehending a bank robbing mutant, and after that kind of dispute, she was ready for a nap and some wine.

It was surprising when she noticed her phone ringing in her bag. Pulling a shirt back on, she answered the call. ”Ello?”

The reply was weak and concerning. Amelia; god, how long had it been? And she sounded… rough. ”Ay coorse. Ah’m livin’ at th’ school now. Come by; Ah can help ye, whatever ye need.” Mirror and Kalos were out of town for the night, so it should not be an issue to harbor an old friend.

At the mansion. Good. Into that lions den, as the saying went. Another one sprang to mind on the first ones toes. In for a penny, in for a pound. There were way too many good sayings, weren’t there?

The path to hell in paved in good intentions. Whew. As if there weren’t already enough melodrama going around.

Amelia thanked Rebecca and hung up. Then, she started to her car and made for the mansion. She didn’t notice someone watching from the shadows. They were in the shadows. Who the hell notices someone hiding in shadows anyways?

At the mansion, she got let in past gate security. It took a few minutes, but she found Rebecca’s swank room.

Knock knock knock. Rebecca let her in.

There was an awkward moment of silence as Amelia stood by the doorway, inside the room. Or rather, rooms. It was large enough for more than one person. She out the question aside and hauled off her hoodie so she could hang it somewhere for it to dry.

“Thanks for letting me come over.” She said.

Another awkward moment went by while she figured out her words. “I hardly know why to say, now I’m here. It’s been a hell of a few years.”

She looked rough. There was a bruise around her neck and scratches on her cheeks. Defensive wounds on her hands. A broken nail.

“Big room,” she adeptly avoided the elephant in the room. The room sure was big enough for an elephant. Compared to other mansion rooms. With the exception of Princess Kate and her closet to another world.

Bringing someone to the Mansion was slightly more effort than buzzing someone up to her old apartment, but Becca appreciated that. Weird stalkers were at least half as likely to end up finding her here, and if they did, she was sure that would go very poorly for them.

Amelia would be familiar with the process, even if it had been a while. She figured out her way to the staff suites and Rebecca opened the door to greet her. Immediately, the Scot’s brow furrowed, because Ami looked roughed up. She was not going to jump to conclusions, but given their conversation previously, she was concerned.

”Yeah, turns it uir auld rooms hae naethin' oan th' staff rooms. Thes is th' livin' space an' 'at room ower thaur is fur Mirror an' Ah. Th' other one is fur a mutant mirror’s bin carin' fur,” she said, gesturing, knowing she was filling space because she did not want to jump right into whatever the hell Ami was dealing with. ”Bit thaur baith away t’night, sae it’s jist us.”

Well, now that she had gotten the nervous tour out of her system, Becca sat on the arm of one of the sofas and looked up at her old friend, wondering if she’d take a seat. She clearly was not sure what to say, and had said as much. ”Listen, whatever’s gaing oan, take yer time. Are ye feelin’ okay, Ami?” Hopefully that was a safe place to start.

Mirror and her were sharing a living space, and Mirror was also caring for a separate person. A young mutant. Honestly, she wasn’t surprised about any of it. She knew Becca and Mirror had a history, and Mirror was a good person. Him slash her taking care of someone seemed completely in-character... although depending on age, it may have become a more maternal slash paternal relationship. And that spoke of emotional growth.

Back when she’d dated them, Mirror had been good enough to handle a pet. But she wouldn’t have expected them to take care of a child. Times change. And people. Oh look, another cliche phrase!

Rebecca sat down on the arm of a sofa, and Amelia hesitated to seat herself. The woman told her to take her time, and still standing, Amelia did. How she was feeling was a good question. A real good place to start. She channeled the bunny from the bunny cop Disney movie, and answered the question with a question.

“How am I feeling? Well. That’s a very good question. How do I feel? Well. A little disappointed.” She smiled at Rebecca. A good-humored smile, to make it clear that for the most part, everything that followed it was teasing.

“When I last talked with you. Or left a message. To you and to Mirror. What? Was that two or three summers ago? It’s all pretty foggy. That was a hell of a time. I told you all to be wary of me and to watch out. And maybe to ask me personal questions when next you saw me? Because of the kidnapping and evil twins...?”

She was fishing. Honestly, she couldn’t remember what she’d said. Amelia thought, maybe, she’d actually spoken with Becca. And that she had told her about SUPER, and also to, what, watch her ass? Something about tricks?

She was rambling and didn’t care. “Well. It’s okay because now my double is brain dead and we won’t get into where her brain went, but I pretended to be her and have been avoiding everyone this entire time to keep up the illusion of being her. And it’s been hell and this entire conversation feels like a giant run-on sentence. But I’m SUPER now. (Thanks for asking). And tonight was really bad. And I think I might be one of the bad guys now. So I’m not okay. And someone is dead.”

There. That was a lot off her chest. Would Becca toss her out after that? At least she’d come clean. In the most 0 to 60 way.

Rebecca had not forgotten about her last real conversation with Amelia. She weighed the pros and cons of letting Amelia into the Mansion, but it would be too easy to miss a lie on the phone. She kept the details vague, but she did warn Mansion Security to monitor her room.

”Whit, Ah hae tae ask th’ questions right away? Who says Ah’m nae wary? Ah can be wary an’ accomodatin.” In truth, Amelia invoking that conversation was a good start, but it was not proof. She would keep that I mind.

For now, she listened closely as words tumbled out of Amelia, painting a scary picture. Amelia was acting in place of her double with SUPER, doing their dirty work. Dirty enough that someone was dead and Amelia was part of that.

Tensing her body, Rebecca was aware of where her shield, her ball bearings, and every knife in the apartment was. Just in case. ”Sae ye joined SUPER. Kept yer cover. Did ye hae an end goal, or did ye just want tae hide in plain sight?” She wondered why Amelia would put herself in such a position, but hiding from SUPER was not easy, especially if Amelia was involved in incapacitating her doppelganger.

Assuming this was Ami. ”Okay, question: Who was th’ first mutant we had tae deal wi’ together?” There were many mutant problems they both faced over the years, but Rebecca could still remember the putrid smell of those sewers when they were still teenagers.

So Becca has been wary. Good, good. ABC, always be conscious. Better acronym than ABP, always be paranoid! Which had not caught on. Wonder why.

Amelia could just guess what Rebecca might do if this went south. She had a very unique power. All the pants in the world wouldn’t save her if a master of magnetism wanted to throw something at her. Like any of the numerous metal implements she kept in her own home, for starts.

She caught the body language, too. Years of SUPER training and cop training excelled at that. Amelia purposefully did nothing.

End goal, she asked. “At the time,” Amelia said. “I was angry and wanted to hurt them and destroy them from within. And an opportunity arose...” She gave a little shudder.

It still disgusted her a little.

The next question was easier by far than having to deal with ones own twisted motives.

“The guy in the Sewer,” she said. “I think he was a king. And I remember other stuff too. Like the library with Agnes and Kealey. And there was that living tower mission, in an oversized Maya costume. Which was awkward. Probably my first actual X-mission.” And maybe one of her last?

“And there was that horse bug robot thing...”

Rebecca was concerned about her friend’s plan for many reasons. For one thing, she did not trust SUPER and she trusted far less how they would react to a doppelganger posing as a SUPER agent. Furthermore, now that they were seeking to legitimize themselves and ingraining their organization with the federal government, something like this could have gotten Amelia in the kind of trouble Rebecca or the X-Men would struggle to help with.

Amelia managed to recount their first battle together in the sewers, and strung together other notable memories. Rebecca felt the heat in her cheeks at the mention of the library, but focused on verifying the details being offered.

”Aw seems tae line up. Thoucht if yer nae our Amelia an’ she told ye abit th’ library, Ah’ll kill her myself.” Becca did not need that bit of information documented in a government system somewhere.

So this was Amelia, and she had gotten in too deep with SUPER. ”Sae… weel, damn. Whit’re ye lookin’ tae dae next, Amelia? Flee? Change yer name an’ hide? Ah mean. Ye coods theoretically resign, bit ‘at coods be a hard seel if th' other Ami returns.” It was an obvious answer, but Becca assumed there were plenty of risks with leaving an organization who could keep tabs on you long after you’re gone.

She did not smirk at the comment about the library, or arch an eye brow, or give anything other than the most professional reply one could make regarding spilling dirt on that sort of thing.

“Duh. What else would you do?”

Rebecca didn’t know what to do. The whole situation, and those were the options she considered? Run away, hide? Of all the options, resignation was the only one that had any long-term potential. And the sick thing was, deep down she still felt some connection to the organization. Some depraved loyalty. It had to have come from the other her in her, because... what sane person thinks you need a policing organization for dangerous mutants... something beyond the police?

Seriously, who?

And if the other Amelia came back?

A dark chuckle found itself free from her chest, before she knew what she was doing with it. Or whether or not she could stop it.

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem.” She said.

Before that evil laugh creeped Rebecca the hell out, she felt she ought to elaborate. “Did not really want to get into it. But my double was chasing a psychic when I jumped her. And the psychic got tired of our slappy bitch fight so she grabbed both our brains and said ‘Will it blend?’ That’s how come my double is brain dead, see? Because I ate her. Psychically speaking. And it kind of effed me up for a while. But I won.”

“So she won’t be coming back. They have her in a cell at HQ and think she’s me.” She only smiled a little at the notion. Which probably wasn’t a healthy thing to do... but you either laugh off the insanity or are driven by it.

Rebecca wanted to focus on something light, if only to give Amelia something other than stress to deal with, but the situation was too dangerous. Amelia had reason to be concerned. The ways out were all risky, and Rebecca assumed she had a secret agent doppelganger out there somewhere looking to take control of her life.

That assumption, evidently, was wrong.

The truth was unsettling. They were psychically merged? Terrifying. As much as Rebecca loved Impact, being mind-melded was still a nightmare; they were different people, and Becca liked the person she was. ”Is some ay her still up there? Loch… bits of her are ye noo?” She could not help but ask; it was a bizarre situation she had no understanding for.

”Okay, focusin'. Sae retirement isnae th' worst idea 'en, but it main still raise eyebrows. Runnin' will definitely keep them oan yer tail fur th' next forever.” Rebecca weighed the options, and none of them sounded good. That actually made her think… she had another choice that sounded just as bad, if not worse.

Rebecca winced. ”Sae. Wi' SUPER’s wee rebrandin' effort, they hae bin tryin' tae establish some kin' ay professional connection wi' th' X-Men. That's gonnae ower loch a leid balloon.” Obviously. ”But… mebbe if Ah agree tae a meetin', Ah coods try negotiatin' fur yer exit. Ah dornt know; it's a longshot, but Eh'd try it fur ye. If ye wanted.” It could also blow up in their face, and Amelia was stubbornly independent, but Becca wanted to know she offered something.

Bits of her... Becca was asking about the leftovers from her doppelgänger.

“Mostly what I’ve got are occasional memories.” She said quickly, attempting lightness. “And sometimes I’ll get a wicked notion to eat pineapple on my pizza or vote Republican. But that’s about it,” at least. These days. “Just little things. Although sometimes I may be drawn to an idea.” She made a face.

She didn’t want to dwell on the whole topic too much. Because little things could turn out bigger than you thought. Just look at Beethoven. Or the Big Red Dog.

Becca wanted to focus on something else, too. Options options options. And Amelia was glad to have the distraction.

She was right. Running was off the table. As for retirement... did she even want that?

Becca winced and told her about SUPER’s rebranding. And made an offer.

Did she still want the distraction? These were heavy thoughts.

Amelia was silent for a second. When she spoke, it was with great care. “We’d want to be careful. Very careful. And certain, because of the risk... SUPER is dangerous.... and one of the little things in me is that I still kind of sort of want in...”

She went on quickly again, holding up a hand to stall any arguments because thinking of it all made her sick but she needed to state her piece.

“I know. I know! It’s like some sick joke, like what someone in an abusive relationship says. ‘It isn’t that bad.’ Or ‘they’ll never hurt me’, or... ‘I can deal with it.’ ‘If it ever crosses a line, I’ll get out.’ Because ‘I’m strong.’ Only I’m not. And I think it has. That’s sort of why I’m here and I guess—“

She brushed at her eyes. Must’ve been a speck of dirt up there.

“I think that’s the only big bit of my doppelgänger really hanging on.” She said. “The one that’s fine working for shadowy government organizations that don’t mind killing people if its in self defense.” Her voice got a little choked up. “I would really appreciate you helping me leave that sort of thing. Even though it puts you in danger. Even though I’ve put everyone in danger. Because this stuff is killing me.” Her voice cracked.

Bad for the soul. And then she was crying in Becca and Mirrors room and being freaky dramatic.

Living with the influence, however subtle, of another personality sounded like an anxious experience. At least Amelia seemed to have an idea of which ideas were coming from her doppelganger, but who knew if she noticed them all? Maybe there were parts of her double that were subtle, adapting themselves into the woman Becca had known since she as nineteen. It was… well, freaky.

Knowing Amelia still wanted to be part of SUPER, even if it was just part of her, only reinforced those concerns. Wanting to keep working for an organization with that kind of track record must have been the doppel. Though… did it matter? Even if that impulse came from the other Ami, that was part of this Ami now too, wasn’t it? Knowing where it came from did not kill those feelings or make them easier to ignore

Even Amelia acknowledged how nuts these feelings were. She was not oblivious to how questionably any mutant might see her even considering that. Amelia was torn up and on her last legs. She needed someone to be there for her.

”Ah’ll help. Ah’m here.” Becca carefully placed a reassuring hand on Ami’s shoulder. ”We’ll set th’ terms ay th’ meetin’ and Ah’ll be there tae make sure, however we dae this, ye ne’er hae tae feel loch this again. Ah want ye tae be able tae live wi’ yerself.” Amelia, for all her flaws and the part of her brain committed to sacrificing certain liberties for a nebulous greater good, was a good person. Becca would help her fight to keep her soul intact.

Amelia had second thoughts. Immediate and panic-stricken second thoughts.

Damn her double. Damn her sense of responsibility. Damn her damned sense of right and wrong. And damn her sudden self-destructive, but correct, sense of perspective.

She was thunderstruck. To leave now would be folly. After reaching out for help, and learning SUPER was doing the same damn thing? Folly!

“I’m a god-damned idiot,” Amelia said severely. “What am I saying? You need me.”

The moment she’d distanced herself from the situation by giving up, that was the moment where she had realized where that path would lead. Becca had placed a careful hand on her shoulder, and Amelia’s eyes had widened as she’d seen the writing on the wall. Holy crap.

Amelia batted at her eyes, wiped away at traitor tears.

“My soul be damned,” she swore. “I am so fAkking selfish! Coward.”

She could almost laugh, if she didn’t feel sick and like she was going to cry. More. To cry more. And if those comments hadn’t given Rebecca Mood Whiplash, her follow ups surely would.

“Yes, Amelia. Leave SUPER just when they’re trying to turn over a new leaf and reach out to the X-men. Leave, and when Rebecca turns around looking for help dealing with it, you’ll be long gone. Just when she could utilize a friendly face.”

She stared Rebecca dead in the eye and kept her composure. “Pixel Becky needs you, Amelia. You’re her only hope. Like, comment, and subscribe! Quit being a little bi+(#.”

She pawed at her eyes again, and sniffled. She could really use a tissue for her nose.

Giving up wouldn’t accomplish anything except her running away. And when the X-men had needed her help long ago, and she’d balked because Sam couldn’t keep himself from keeping secrets? Amelia could have created a better working relationship between the two organizations, X-men and police. But she’d given up trying and fled, instead. It would be incredibly stupid of her to make the same mistake twice.

And really, was it the shooting a person in self defense that had sent her running to Rebecca that night for help? Or had it been the culmination of all those secrets that were bad for the soul? What, exactly, had their immediate conversation been about?

Police kill in self-defense all the time. It’s part of the job. They train you for it. Maybe she just needed a damned shoulder to cry on, and a nice couch to lay on and talk about it.

Mood Whiplash? Yeah. She had that. But talking was helping and and and— things.

Becca wanted to do what she could to help. Amelia seemed torn up, or she did naught but a moment ago. Suddenly, there was an unexpected pivot and Becca was doing her best to keep track. She needed Amelia? Amelia was a coward?

Instead of replying, Becca held her tongue to see where Amelia was going with this. She tried not to take offense at what might have been a dig at her career outside of the X-Men-- in this manic mood, it was hard to tell.

It did sound like Amelia was backtracking. Becca was unsure of how to feel about that choice. ”Ami, Ah’m nae yer ma. This is yer decision tae make. Ah dinnae trust SUPER, bit whether ye stay ur gae is oan ye. Ah still want tae help, hooever Ah can.”

Rebecca rubbed her arms nervously, wondering which Amelia she was speaking with at this point. ”Jist… th’ offer is oan th’ table, okay? If ye need it.”

“I appreciate it,” Amelia said. “And I know you’re not my mother. I’m a grown-ass woman.”

How little she knew how soon that would change.

“I probably will want you’re help, to open a dialogue between me, them, and the X-men. To clear the air, more than anything.” Amelia said quickly, mind already working through ideas.

“Too many secrets.” She explained. Wiped at her eyes. “That’s part of why I told Sam I wouldn’t join the X-men, ultimately... way back when.”

“I think it’s telling I focused on secrets rather than what actually happened tonight, to freak me out so bad. Guess cops usually deal with that sort of thing all the time. Have to make the hard calls. Vampire murder house and being strangled and all of that, you understand.”

Suddenly, she realized what she said. Her eyes tried to meet Beccas. “It was awful,” she said, voice wavering. “And the smell... worse than Sewer king.”

She shuddered. Maybe that was another reason she’d avoided the topic. Didn’t want to think about it.

“I’ll see someone about it, I swear.” She quickly crosses herself. “Someone whose job it is to listen to all of that.”