Chapter 78: Quiet Healing (Patreon)

Breakfast was a quiet affair, until his mother set her fork down and looked at him and his father with that particular half-smile of hers—the one she used when she had good news but wasn’t sure how it would land.

“The house we decided on,” she said, voice bright though nervous, “the inspector’s going in today. If it passes, escrow will start. By next week, we might finally be out of this hotel.”

His father nodded in confirmation, already sipping his coffee like the matter was sealed. “We’ll finally have something permanent again, son.”

Ethan let the words hang there for a beat before answering. He forced a smile, warm enough to satisfy them. “That’s great. Really.”

Inside, his thoughts were sharper, more brittle. ‘A home. Stability. For them, maybe. For me… just means another stage I’ll have to navigate and eventually walk out of. Another place to erase myself from when the time comes.’

But he didn’t let that show. He just nodded again, asked what street the house was on, and listened as they talked about paint colors and gardens, the kind of idle details families obsessed over. When his father laughed about finally having space for a grill, Ethan even joined in.

He made sure his smile didn’t falter until he was on the bus.

Paige dropped into the seat beside him with the usual lack of ceremony, chewing on a stick of gum and launching straight into chatter. Her southern drawl made everything sound like gossip pulled from a country diner.

“So, Ethan, you goin’ to the dance next month, or are you gonna sit in a corner lookin’ all mysterious, makin’ girls wonder if you’re a vampire?”

Ethan arched a brow. “You sound like you’ve already planned the brochure for me.”

She grinned. “You’d pull it off. Dark eyes, broody silence. You just need to work on your tragic backstory.”

‘If only you knew,’ Ethan thought, but all he did was smirk faintly.

By the time the bus screeched to its stop, Amy had caught up with them, jogging across the sidewalk with her usual, slightly clumsy enthusiasm.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, falling into step with them. “It’s like you vanished.”

“Caught a bad cold,” Ethan lied easily. “Better now.”

She accepted it without question, shifting topics almost immediately. “So—dance next month. You going?”

Paige shot him a sly look, like she was waiting to see how he’d dodge this one.

Ethan just shrugged. “Maybe I’ll be the one selling tickets at the door. That way I can say I was part of it without having to actually go.”

Amy laughed, Paige rolled her eyes, and the conversation drifted to tests, teachers, and which seniors were already scheming promposals. Ethan listened, responded in places, but internally, he was elsewhere—running through contingencies for Oscorp, considering what steps to take next with Delilah, and mentally drafting the crude preservation formula for Roughhouse’s blood.

By lunch, he’d filled the margins of his math notes with numbers and coded annotations that had nothing to do with algebra.

As always, Paige tugged him along toward the hospital after the final bell. This time, Amy surprised him by asking if she could join.

“I haven’t seen Rachel in a while,” Amy admitted, a nervous crease in her brow. “I just… I think I can help too. Since I was also possessed by the demon.”

Ethan weighed it for a second, then nodded. Peter must have suggested it. Good. The more she invests in her powers, the more useful she’ll be when things get worse.

When they walked into Rachel’s room, Ethan noted the change instantly. She still carried shadows in her eyes, but her posture was straighter, her voice steadier when she greeted them. Paige immediately swept her into a hug and launched into a flood of school gossip—who was failing history, who had tripped in the cafeteria.

Rachel even laughed at one of the stories, quiet but genuine. Ethan didn’t miss it. Progress. He sat in the corner, watching, cataloging every micro-shift in her expression like data points on a chart.

For nearly half an hour, the girls chatted about normal things. Ethan let them. Sometimes normalcy was the best medicine.

It was Amy who broke the rhythm. She glanced at Rachel, thoughtful, then at Ethan. “I want to try something. If that’s okay.”

Rachel blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Just… trust me for a second.”

She walked over, placed her palms gently on Rachel’s temples, and closed her eyes. A soft white glow bloomed from Amy’s hands, wrapping Rachel’s face in gentle light.

Ethan sat forward immediately, every sense sharpening. The glow pulsed once, twice, like a heartbeat. Rachel let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as if someone had cut a weight from her back.

When she opened her eyes again, they were clearer. Focused. Present in a way Ethan hadn’t seen since the demon possession.

Rachel touched her head, almost disbelieving. “It’s like… the noise finally stopped.”

Paige gasped and hugged her again, tears welling up.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was calm but firm. “What was that, Amy?”

Amy looked down at her glowing hands, then let the light fade. “I’ve been… reading. At Peter’s suggestion. About Nut, the goddess I serve as an avatar for. The more I understand, the more… things open up. I didn’t even know I could do this until a few days ago. It’s like—like calming the minds of the living. And maybe the dead too.”

Ethan kept his expression mild. Inside, his mind was already sprinting. ‘Calming minds. Suppressing trauma. Maybe even altering memories if she pushes it far enough. Healing on the surface, but one step away from control. That power is dangerous. And useful. Too useful to ignore.’

He smiled faintly, voice warm. “You did good, Amy. Peter’s going to be proud.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Really? You think so?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. ‘And if I’m careful, I’ll find out just how far you can take it.’

The rest of the visit was lighter. Paige filled the silence with jokes, Rachel smiled more freely, and Amy glowed with the pride of having helped. For a fleeting hour, it almost felt like they were just kids hanging out after school, none of them having experienced trauma.

But when they left the hospital, the laughter faded into the evening air.

Ethan looked at the sky, hands shoved into his pockets, and let his thoughts sharpen again.

‘Eight days left. Norman. Delilah. Rose. Black Tarantula. Every thread is tightening. And now Amy, with Peter’s mentorship, is coming into powers she doesn’t understand yet. No… I can’t afford to relax. Not yet.’

He walked with them back toward the bus stop, smiling when separated. After leaving them, the smile faded, and Ethan headed to the nearest Pharmacy.