“Amaranth has been reluctant to share before,” Jessica spoke into her recorder. “Hopefully these more frequent sessions will allow her to feel she can speak more freely with me. If not...well, hopefully I don't need to worry about that.” There was a knock at the door and she set the recorder down on the table next to her. “Please come in.”

  Amaranth pushed her way into the room and took the seat across from Jessica as quickly as she could, pulling off her hood. The Ward's head was lowered, but she could see Amaranth's eyes flicking around the room rapidly, looking anywhere but at her. She suppressed a frown, that was a step back from last time, no doubt. It looked like she hadn't received medical attention for her injuries, if the blisters around her eyes were any indication.

  “Hello Amaranth,” she greeted the girl. “I'm glad to see you today. Would you mind if I record our session? I'd prefer making notes myself but lately things--”

  “It's fine,” she said tersely, not looking at her.

  “How are you feeling?” Jessica asked after five long minutes of silence.

  “Like shit,” Amaranth answered another minute on. “Hurting all over, crazy, you know?”

  “Have you had the chance to be healed by Panacea?” she asked, pointedly ignoring the 'crazy' comment. It wouldn't do to entertain thoughts like that.

  “Amy.”

  “I'm sorry?”

  “She prefers Amy,” Amaranth explained. “And it's fine, just a sunburn and sore. She doesn't need to worry about me.”

  “Thank you for letting me know.” Jessica leaned back in her chair. “Would you like some cream for the sunburn, if you're not going to be healed? I believe I have some aloe vera in my desk.”

  “It's fine,” she repeated, more firmly. “You shouldn't worry about me either.”

  “Why is that?” Jessica asked.

  “Dangerous,” she said with a full body shiver. “For a lot of reasons. Mostly that I'm crazy.”

  “I don't feel in danger around you, Amaranth,” she said. “Can you explain what you mean when you say 'crazy'? I don't find that term helpful.”

  “Gallant was the one who set this up, right?” Amaranth said, finally raising her head. “It's fine, who else would be trying to help even after he found out I'd been lying to him all this time? Didn't he fill you in?”

  “He respects confidentiality as I do.” She sat up straighter. “I was told you may be experiencing trouble relating to your power, that's all. Were you worried about him telling people?”

  “No, just-- why didn't he?” Amaranth knit her brows. “Like this is crazy crazy, padded room, white coated doctors shit; um, no offense.”

  “None taken,” Jessica lied, putting on a warm smile. “Though I would ask you to be more considerate of patients who cannot take care of themselves.”

  “Sorry,” she apologized, staring at the ground. “Like...but this is. I...you can't remember being someone else, can you?” Jessica blinked twice rapidly, the only sign of her surprise.

  “Can you?” she asked, cocking her head slightly.

  “I...” Amaranth bit her lip. “I told you about my powers, kind of, about remembering things?”

  “I recall,” she said, nodding. “You mentioned them feeling, I believe you described them as 'dysphoric'?”

  “Yeah because...” She paused, taking a series of deep breaths. “I'm not Amelia D'souza I'm someone named Amy. I think I come from a different Earth, kind of like Aleph, but not. I don't--” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “Why am I like this?”

  “Well...” Jessica took a breath and forced a smile. “Alright. Would you prefer I call you Amy, rather than Amaranth?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Fuck no,” she snarled with surprising viciousness. “That bitch ruined my life. Didn't fucking kill her fast enough to salvage the rest either.” Dissociation.

  “Amaranth then,” she said simply. “So do you feel that's the source of your precognition?”

  “It is,” she answered. “I...I read it in a story, and yeah it's just as crazy as it sounds. But...that's how it happened.”

  “Can you tell me more about this story?”

  “What, Worm?” Amaranth pulled down her mask and chewed on her thumbnail. “It's...like all this, everything here was in it. You, Amy, Victoria, Gallant, everyone. Except me but, well I shouldn't be here anyway. I didn't read about...me.”

  “When did you start remembering this story? Remembering Amy?” She made a face.

  “Day fucking one,” Amaranth spat.

  Day one, her trigger event. It clicked into place all at once. Jessica was no stranger to the bizarre and obscure, hidden away in the case files of the PRT. The transplanting of an entire person's worth of memories wasn't quite unheard of, the twin cases came to mind, but this was something quite else. Something new. She couldn't help that her heart beat a little quicker.

  “I'm very sorry Amaranth,” Jessica offered. “That sounds difficult to deal with, especially on your own. I appreciate you telling me though.”

  “Not like I had a choice,” she grumbled. “Everything's fucking falling apart, why not me too?”

  “Do you feel like you're falling apart?” She pursed her lips and stared at the ground. The silence dragged on for a minute, then two.

  “I don't know what I'm feeling like,” Amaranth said shakily. “I mean I'm all over the place. I just...fucking cry sometimes out of nowhere, or punch my headboard or whatever. I have forty-six years of memories in my head and I don't know whose is whose half the fucking time.” She lowered her face and cupped it in her hands. “And I think I hate both of them, me, whatever.”

  “I'm sorry it feels that way, Amaranth.” Jessica leaned forward in her seat. “You said you don't know whose memories are whose, may I ask how it feels to try and remember?”

  “What the fuck does that even mean?”

  “When you think about events in this story,” she explained; using the structure her patients presented their powers in was important. “How does it feel? Are some things easier to recall than others?”

  “I...I guess?” Amaranth brought her knees to her chest. “Everything recent. Well, relatively. I...can you switch off the recording for this next part? I'm only telling you so you can have a...a complete picture of like, how crazy I am.”

  “I can stop recording.” She was a little disappointed, but was too professional to show it. She pressed the button and turned the recorder around. “Please, continue.”

  “You cannot tell anyone about this, please.”

  “Of course, Amaranth.”

  “I...come back when I die.” Jessica blinked. “Not metaphorically, I mean...I mean I've died ten times til now, eleven if you count one that didn't stick. Every time, I woke up in my bed a few days before and had to do it all again. Usually including dying. I...I can tell you what it feels like to get drowned like a rat, or bleeding out from Hatchet Face's axe an--” Amaranth stopped with a choking noise, a hand gripping her side. She took a shuddering breath that ended in a half-sob. “Sorry.”

  “That...” Jessica shook her head and sighed. “I believe you Amaranth, please don't feel you need to relive those experiences just to make me. Is it your power that does it?” She shrugged.

  “Don't think so,” she mumbled. “Never heard of a precog that actually dies, they just stop predicting. Power or not...” She shook her head. “Whatever, there you go, the whole fucking picture. I guess you can record again, just don't talk about...that.”

  “Would you like to talk about it before I turn the recording on?” Amaranth chewed on the nail of her index finger.

  “No,” she replied, voice small. “I'd rather never think about it again.” She could hardly fault the girl.

  “Then we'll move on, if you aren't comfortable.” Jessica took a moment to gather her thoughts before flicking the machine on again. “So, more recent events are easier to recall. What about events that took place before you got your powers?” She grimaced.

  “Like, vaguely?” Amaranth shook her head. “The main character was...a villain, so it's not stuff I lived through, you know? Well, I guess I remember Bakuda's terrorist shit, and not going to school, but I think she fought her? I don't know, sorry.”

  “Apology accepted, though I don't believe it's necessary.” Jessica offered a gentle smile. “You've been through a lot recently, and that can have an effect on long-term memory. If you would be willing, I would like to help you...sort out these memories, for lack of a better term. Do you think that could be helpful?” Amaranth stared at her for a while, face full of suspicion.

  “You're too fucking nice,” she snapped. “Why are you taking this at face value? This is I-N-S-A-N-E insane. I'm telling you I have a batch of interdimensional memories in my head and you just...just say 'okay' and move on?”

  “I have worked with many parahumans, Amaranth,” Jessica explained patiently. “Each one is unique, in power, in trauma, and in how they feel about it. I cannot be inside your head, I can only trust that you're telling me the truth as best as you can, and work with you from there. And I want to help, so I'll do what I can with the information you give me.” Amaranth stared at the ground, lower lip trembling.

  “Why is this happening to me?” she asked, sniffling. “I'm not a good person, my mom was a bad person, but I don't think I deserved something like this.”

  “That is a question I don't think I can answer,” she replied. “I'm sorry for that Amaranth, but I do agree; you don't deserve anything that's happened to you.”

  When the Ward began to sob, Jessica turned off the recorder. The girl deserved at least some dignity.