The morning rolled on without much incident. Ethan's parents had left for work early, leaving him a plate of toast and fruit on the counter with a scribbled note about house inspections later in the day. He ate slowly, sipping tea as his mind churned with plans, timelines, and aliases. But for now, he had to set it aside. He had school to play through, another mask to wear.
On the bus, Paige slid into the seat next to him as if it were her natural right. Her deep southern accent cut through the morning grogginess of the ride. "So, Ah was thinkin' after school we oughta swing by the mall. Rachel's gettin' out tomorrow, right? We can't just show up empty-handed."
Ethan turned, meeting her eager grin. "You want to get her a gift?"
"Not want—need," Paige corrected, eyes bright. "After everythin' she's been through, she deserves somethin' nice. A book, maybe. Or a cozy sweater."
Ethan smiled faintly. Paige had the kind of energy he found both exhausting and useful. It made her likable, trustworthy—someone others leaned on. A good trait, if he wanted to keep her close. "Sure. We'll figure something out."
Amy joined them at the school gates, still carrying that tentative awkwardness of someone learning how to belong. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she approached. "Morning. Did you guys hear? Rachel might be discharged today instead of tomorrow."
Paige's face lit up. "Then we've gotta hurry! After school, all three of us—we'll pick somethin' up before headin' to the hospital."
Ethan nodded, his tone even. "Sounds good."
Inside, the day passed in the usual blur of lessons and chatter. Ethan went through the motions, offering just enough input to maintain his "bright but lazy" student mask. His real focus was elsewhere—on Oscorp, on Delilah, on the blood chilling in the hotel fridge—but the role demanded attendance.
When the final bell rang, Paige tugged Amy and Ethan toward the bus stop with the determination of a general leading troops. "C'mon, there's this boutique downtown. They've got scarves, journals, all the good stuff."
Amy hesitated. "What if she doesn't like it?"
"She'll love it," Paige declared. "It's about the thought."
Ethan trailed half a step behind, listening more than speaking. The boutique was small, lined with shelves of colorful journals, candles, soft blankets. Paige darted from rack to rack, holding items up for inspection. Amy lingered by the books, her fingers brushing titles about healing, inner peace, recovery.
Ethan drifted to her side. "You think she'd want something practical?"
Amy shrugged. "I just… I want her to feel safe and happy again. I mean, it can't hurt to read these, right?"
That word—safe—echoed in Ethan's mind. 'Safety and happiness weren't gifts you could buy. It was manufactured, constructed, built like an equation.' But he only said, "A book could work."
In the end, Paige chose a soft blue blanket, Amy added a journal with a pressed-flower cover, and Ethan quietly purchased a fountain pen to go with it. "Everyone always forgets the pen," he said when Paige raised a brow.
Rachel looked better. Not fully healed—Ethan's sharp eye still caught the tightness in her shoulders, the occasional flinch when the door opened—but her eyes were clearer, her voice steadier as she greeted them. He figured she was at 90% due to Amy's light, about the same as himself, meaning she'd have to work on the remaining 10% herself.
"You guys didn't have to bring anything," she said, though her smile betrayed gratitude as Paige draped the blanket over her lap.
Amy handed her the journal, voice shy. "It might help. Writing things down like how you feel."
Rachel's fingers traced the flowers on the cover. "It's beautiful."
Ethan passed over the pen, and Rachel's smile softened further. "Guess now I have no excuse but to write in it."
They chatted—mostly Paige filling the air with school gossip, stories about teachers, talk of the upcoming dance. Rachel laughed here and there, and Ethan noticed how each laugh loosened the tension in her posture.
But then Amy grew quiet, staring at Rachel with a mix of worry and resolve. Finally, she stood and stepped closer.
"Can I… try it again?" Amy asked.
Rachel blinked. "Again, will it work?"
Amy hesitated, then explained softly. "From my research with Peter, it seems that I can do it multiple times. The goddess Nut has also been reaching out to me in my dreams and has been teaching me things. She said as I get to know her more, the easier it will be for us to talk. Apparently, the light I used is named… Calming Benevolence. Easing minds. I also helped Peter's Aunt yesterday with it, and I think I can help you get over the last hurdle."
Rachel's lips parted, uncertainty flickering. But then she nodded. "If it's safe to do it multiple times, then… okay."
Amy placed her hands lightly against Rachel's temples. A pale white glow spread from her palms, seeping into Rachel like mist drawn into thirsty ground.
Ethan leaned forward slightly, once again observing with clinical fascination. Rachel's breathing slowed, her eyes fluttered, then opened clearer, sharper. The slight haunted glaze he had seen in small moments seemed to be gone now.
Rachel let out a long exhale, almost a sigh of relief. "I… feel lighter. Like the last part of something heavy just… left. I guess it really does work more than once. You could be the world's best therapist."
Paige's eyes widened. "Amy, that's amazin'!"
Amy pulled her hands back, blushing. "No, no, it's still new. I'm not something so great. I only helped a little."
Ethan's mind ticked rapidly behind his calm expression, having now observed the power used twice. 'Maybe it's a neurological reset, induced by energy manipulation. Observable improvement in trauma response. He thought of the Asgardians and other gods and their divine abilities. Healing magic is real, replicable, and to be able to do that, I would have to map a person's brain as Amy is using her Calming Benevolence on them. If I wish to open a hospital one day, it might be useful.'
He filed it away.
They stayed for another hour, telling stories, making Rachel laugh until the nurse gently ushered them out.
On the walk back, Paige looped her arm through Ethan's. "She's gonna be okay. I can feel it."
Amy walked on his other side, quieter, but her shoulders less tense. "I glad… I want to keep learning. If I can help people like that…then maybe I should become a therapist."
Ethan nodded, his expression warm, though his thoughts remained cold and focused. 'Yes. Learn. Grow. Show me what gods can grant. Because one day, I'll need it. I'll have to encourage Peter to work with her more after this.'
As they split ways, Ethan returned to the bus, already cataloging equipment lists in his mind, even as he played the role of the supportive friend.
Tomorrow, he would return to his real work. But tonight, he had seen proof: Amy could fully heal minds, maybe even rewrite them one day in the future. And that was knowledge worth far more than the time wasted today.
He could have had her finish healing his mind, but that would draw attention for both Amy and Paige. So he'd have to deal with the rest of his trauma on his own, which he was fine with. Amy had done the hard part; now he just needed to take the final steps.