"Ugh, I just… I don't know what I should do." The grumblings of her daughter were the first thing Carol heard upon finally stepping back into her home. The day's work had been exhausting thanks to several cases being dropped in her lap after one of her coworker had ended up in the hospital.

Normally, Carol might have felt exasperated to hear her daughter obviously not having the best day herself, but she couldn't help but be bemused more than anything. The troubles of youth and the perils of adulthood weren't so different—it was just a matter of scope at times. Misery loved company, so why not see if her rambunctious child needed another ear to be lent?

"Don't tell me I should be patient!" Victoria gave something akin to a hiss into her phone. "It's been three weeks. Three! I've been waiting too long, if anything."

Carol smiled to herself, finally identifying the person on the other side of the phone as she sat down on the couch, still in hearing distance from her daughter pacing a room over. She let out a small sigh as she loosened the tie around her neck. She normally got a bit too much sitting, but most of the day had been spent running around—inside the firm's office and out—trying to organize all the information left haphazardly by her coworker before she'd gotten herself in a car accident. It felt good to just sit down in a comfy seat sometimes.

"Come on, why won't you help me out?" Victoria gave a whine—or perhaps a beg—now trying to cajole something out of her on-again boyfriend.

'When all else fails, just try to wheedle it out of him,' Carol thought to herself, amusement building further. 'I can remember a few times when I tried the same…'

"That's bullshit!" Victoria swore, causing Carol's smile to widen minutely. Whatever Dean had said, it'd been the wrong thing to say. "You are just… ugh! Fine! See if I ask you for help again!"

Carol could almost hear her daughter restraining herself from chucking her cellphone across the room as she gave a growl, before the sound of stomping grew until the crescendo of the kitchen door being slammed open was hit.

"Mom!" Victoria seemed to find her mother's presence a total shock. "Uh, welcome back? I didn't hear you come in."

"Yes, you did seem rather involved with your conversation." Carol fiddled with her tie, but didn't pull it off. It was more of an act of being involved that allowed her to seem like she didn't see her daughter's blush of embarrassment. Whatever her daughter was, mature wasn't it, but she tried very hard these days not let her emotions get the best of her. She even did quite well at it, which meant whatever she was worrying about was probably important to her.

"Is something bothering you?" Carol finally looked up from her fiddling when she saw her daughter pull herself together from the corner of her eye.

"It's…" Victoria sighed, sitting down next to Carol. "It's Amy."

"What's wrong with Amy?" Carol gave a sigh herself, woefully unsurprised. "I thought you said she was in a good mood lately?"

"She was!" Victoria paused. "Is, even! Kind of."

"How very clear," Carol said with a slight drawl of sarcasm.

"She's just," Victoria started to say, before sighing again. "Sometimes she looks like she's on top of the world, and other times it's like she's trying to shoulder it."

"Vicky." At Carol's raised eyebrow Victoria glanced away.

"I wasn't lying," Victoria said after another long pause. "I just thought I could do something about it."

"And now you don't?" Carol pursed her lips, wondering. She'd seen what Victoria was talking about easily enough herself, but felt it best to leave well enough alone. Her… other daughter was very much an introverted person, and the relationship she'd had with her was far from stable. Why not leave it to Victoria?

"…No." The confession seemed to physically pain Victoria, the grimace working its way across her expression belying the defeat that her voice held. "A month ago I'd have said I could push her out of any kind of funk she worked herself into, but now…? Now I just don't know."

Carol sighed again, but felt another smile working onto her face despite the aura of depression literally radiating from her daughter. She put her arm around Victoria and patted her sympathetically.

"I know how you feel," Carol admitted, drawing a look of surprise from Victoria. "What, did you think I've never run into something like this with your aunt?"

"Well… no, not really." Victoria wrapped a hand around the one Carol had extended, not too tightly, but hard enough to see she definitely wanted that sympathy.

"Sarah and I…" Carol felt her smile grow a bit melancholy. "There are times we don't always see eye to eye. I'll admit I find myself more in… more in Amy's position at times rather yours, but there have been times, Vicky…

"The stories would take too long to tell, honestly, but your aunt can be incredibly stubborn about shouldering something." Carol shook her head, pushing away the nostalgia.

"So what should I do?" Victoria finally worked herself back to the question that was causing her so much distress.

"Sometimes, Vicky, there's nothing you can do." Carol brought her free hand up to shush her daughter as the girl tried to interrupt. "Sometimes there isn't, and you should be aware of that, and some of those times the best thing to do is wait until the person you want to help comes to you.

"But not all the time," Carol said as Victoria's expression and aura grew more and more stormy. "Some of those times, when nothing you do seems to get through, what you need to do is ask for help. I cannot tell you the number of times I've asked Mark or Neil for help and the problem that had been plaguing me for months on end just disappeared the next day."

"So what, I should be going to Crystal or Eric?" Victoria's expression was almost petulant, clearly not happy with her mother's answer.

"What I'm saying, Victoria," Carol paused momentarily to shoot a stern look at daughter. "Is that sometimes the best help you can give is to let others know that there's a problem."

Victoria flushed, and Carol didn't pretend not to see it this time. "I'm not trying to embarrass you, or make you feel bad about this, but trying to solve everything yourself isn't always going to work."

"I get it," Victoria mumbled, looking down.

"Good." Carol squeezed her hand, before she started to stand up. "Now, is Amy in her room?"

"Uh," Victoria looked bewildered for a second. "Yeah, but what…?"

"It'd be rather hypocritical of me if I said all that and didn't try to help, wouldn't it?" Carol smiled, feeling a bit chagrined. "And if I can't do anything, maybe we will ask your cousins, and if that doesn't work, we'll bring everybody in on things, okay?"

"Okay," Victoria agreed, smiling back. "I'll be here."

Nodding, Carol actually did pull off her tie, throwing it over one of the living room seats as she walked upstairs and firmly knocked her knuckle against the wood of Amy's closed door. The silly little wooden engraving, with an uneven carving of the name hung on it, as it had for nearly a decade. Victoria had made it soon after Amy had been adopted into the family, largely due to it being a popular arts and crafts project at the time in school, but it had been the start of a, she was told, beautiful sistership. Carol wasn't certain about that, but she did believe it meant a lot to Amy.

"Vicky, I don't want to talk right now." The voice was muffled, but easily discernible. The feeling of gloom in the voice was as well.

"It's not Vicky, Amy." Carol gave a small sigh. "But I want to talk all the same."

There was a long pause, long enough that Carol wondered if she was being ignored, before she heard the squeak of a mattress and timid footsteps work their way closer. There was a small click of the lock being undone, before the door cracked open. Carol almost felt like laughing at how Amy peered out of the small opening, but held back. She looked… vulnerable, and pained.

"U-uh, Carol," Amy stuttered for a second.

"You don't have to call me that, Amy." Carol held back another sigh.

"No, I…" Amy shook her head, only partly seen from outside the door. Whatever she meant to say didn't come out, however, and the silence grew as Amy looked down—away, really, anywhere but at Carol.

"May I come in?" Carol didn't advance, but she felt like that question seemed to intimidate Amy even further, she seemed to slink back, not as an invitation, but as if she was warding off a threat. In the end, however, after a few more silent moments, Amy did pull the door open further, and moved back.

Carol took the opening to slowly move into the room, taking it in as she so rarely had seen it. It was… drab. What few bits of personality to it were things that Victoria had clearly purchased for Amy rather than something she'd gotten for herself—a kitten lamp, from when they were younger, a large pink heart pillow, action figures of Glory Girl and Panacea, among others.

It was a little bit painful to see. But then, Amy rarely spent a lot of time in her own room except to sleep. Whenever she could, she'd rather be with Victoria.

"What..." Amy started to say, but froze when Carol looked at her. It took several more seconds before she finally came back together to finish her sentence. "What do you want?"

The question was almost gruff, but clearly hadn't meant to be given the wince Amy tried to suppress as she asked it. Carol kept a smile off her face from the awkwardness.

"Victoria has been almost tearing her own hair out from worry, you know." It wasn't an answer, but Carol didn't want to really get to that yet.

"She has." There wasn't any question in her tone, and Carol wasn't surprised. Amy had been deliberately pushing Victoria away, after all. Torturing herself, really.

"I guess…" Carol sighed again, trying to think of a better way than this, even knowing there wasn't. "I guess I came to ask what's wrong."

Which was a lie, of course.

"Nothing," Amy's reply was barely audible, but she seemed to shake herself and draw a little bit of strength. The moroseness seemingly disappearing as she finally marshaled herself. "Nothing's wrong, I just… had a bit fight—no, it wasn't really a fight, I was just being stupid and got angry with Vicky.

"It's okay, Carol," Amy gave a tight smile. "I'll get over it, and stop making her worry."

Carol shook her head. "You're an awful liar, you know."

"What?" Amy frowned, barely registering the small rebuke in the face of having her easy excuse being ignored.

"I was fine with letting things go because I thought Victoria would win through in the end, but I guess…" Carol let a smile through. "I guess I'm awful at ignoring the elephant in the room too."

"I don't…" Amy licked her lips. "I don't know—"

"I do," Carol interrupted. "I know what you did, Amy."

"You…?" Amy's expression slowly went from a pained unease, and then a dawning horror. "You know?"

"Amy," Carol shook her head, a chuckle working its way out of her despite the desire to hold it in. "I may be many things, but even I'm not so oblivious as to not realize. You don't just wake up one day a new person."

"Oh," Amy gasped, a sharp inhale as the horror on her face continued to grow. "Oh god…"

It was almost painful to watch as Amy's arms jerked, like she wanted to do something with them, but always stopped halfway. Carol could see tears shimmering in Amy's eyes, and hear sharp gasping breathes as panic began to push its way through the horror.

"It's…" Carol sighed again. "It's okay, Amy."

"Okay!?" It was less of a shout, and more of loud whisper, but the harsh laugh that came out of Amy next wasn't as silent. "It is not okay! I… I raped you! I fucking violated your mind just because… just because I…"

"Because you wanted to be loved," Carol finished, a smile coming onto her face again. "I'll admit I wasn't exactly happy when I realized."

Amy seemed to finally pause in her panic attack at that, a touch of confusion in her teary eyes. Carol could so easily see it, now, what type of girl Amy was. She was still a child, in many of the most important ways, but in others she was turning into an adult. She'd done something bad, and now she was tearing herself apart because she wanted to be punished for it.

"Yes, I wasn't happy, but I also wasn't angry either." Carol pursed her lips, pausing thoughtfully now that she saw Amy was paying attention—wasn't going to do something drastic. "It was wrong of you, yes. But it did allow me to be a bit more clearheaded and I think it's safe to say that I can shoulder some of the blame.

"Amy, I know very keenly that I have been an awful mother to you. The fact that you still wanted me to love you at all…" Carol shook her head. "It baffles me a little, but at the same time it feels nice."

"That's because—" Amy stopped as Carol raised a finger.

"Yes, it is. It is because you made me love you, like I never truly had before." Carol paused, mulling a little over the fact that she couldn't even find a shred of resentment at that fact. All that she felt was sadness, a sadness from the fact that she'd pushed her daughter this far. She'd spent the weeks that Amy had avoided her like a plague to alternate between introspection, and avoidance. Sometimes she knew she should be murderous over having her emotions played with, and sometimes she just wanted to not think about it at all. In the end, she couldn't. She couldn't follow along with should bes, and she couldn't run away from it forever.

"You did something you shouldn't have, Amy." Carol repeated, and then smiled. "But I forgive you for it."

"You forgive me?" Amy looked at her dumbly. "You're just… But I… You're just saying that because—"

"I probably am saying that because of what you did, Amy." Carol nodded, ignoring the stricken expression that it caused on Amy's face. "It's a bit insidious like that, love."

"I can…" Amy swallowed. "I can fix, I know I can, just—"

Carol batted at Amy's wavering hand dismissively.

"Amy, if you do so again, I'm going to be very cross with you in a lot of ways." Carol sighed as Amy's expression grew even more pained. "Honestly, I didn't want to have this conversation right now exactly for this reason, but it looks like you're very good at torturing yourself. I'm going to be very clear here: I forgive you, and I want you to forgive yourself."

"How?" Amy shook her head in disbelief. "How can I… you…?"

"Given how low your self-esteem apparently is, I doubt it will be easy, but I think we can start with you finally calling me Mom."

"M-Mom…?" Amy blinked. "No, I mean… how can you not want me to fix it?"

Carol sighed again, glancing around the room as she fought the small twinge in her chest. It wasn't exactly ideal in any fashion. She slowly walked over to the kitten lamp in the room and flicked it on—the daylight from the windows had started to fade a bit.

"That's the funny thing with emotions, with people," Carol finally began. "As I'm sure you're well aware, how can you tell if you're you if you can't tell if what you're feeling is real?"

When Amy didn't say anything, Carol continued. "I've… thought a lot in the past few weeks, Amy. As much as I tried to avoid thinking about it, I couldn't ignore it either. At some points I wanted to come and demand you to change it all back, but at others…"

Carol sighed.

"At others I couldn't help but realize how very tired I am. I never realized it before, but holding onto grudges, and being unpleasant is just very tiring. I…" Carol shook her head and chuckled, finally looking away from the lamp and back at Amy, who looked lost. "I'm actually very happy nowadays. I go to work looking forward to it, and I'm blissful at the thought of coming home to my family. I don't go out heroing much anymore, but I even feel a sense of anticipation to go out when it calls for it."

"But…" Amy opened and closed her mouth a few times, and Carol didn't interrupt her, letting her articulate herself. "But that's not real."

"Who says?" Carol smiled. "When Mark actually takes his medicine, when he actually acts like the Mark I know and love, is that fake, Amy?

"Who can say just what happiness and love are?" Carol shook her head, and sat down on Amy's bed, patting the area next to her. It took several seconds before, timidly, Amy finally sat down next to her.

"We're not okay," Carol said, even as she wrapped an arm around her troubled daughter. "I… haven't been okay for a very long time, and that's not your fault, Amy. Mark's not okay, he hates the fact that he has to depend on drugs to feel much of anything, and that's not your fault either. Vicky, as much as I love her, as much as she tries to rein it in, has a very large problem with her temper."

"I'm not okay either," Amy whispered.

"I know," Carol nodded. "But that's fine. You can't fix everything, and as bad as what you did was, what I have been doing to you is just as bad.

"But, maybe, if we try, we can still be happy, real or fake." Carol squeezed Amy's shoulder, looking at her daughter with a smile. "Okay?"

"Okay." It was soft, barely more than a upturn of the lips, but it was still felt sincere enough for Carol to feel like that there was a promise there.