[b][i]Empire City, New York, 1976[/b]

Useless.[/i]

Rachel stared at the walls of the apartment she had moved into the day before. Her knuckles still throbbed unpleasantly, though it had been several hours since... since...

Part of her felt she should use her power. Smooth things over, send the more troublesome emotions to the background. Then she could think clearly about this. 

She was [i]done[/i] with pretending. 

Rachel shoved a fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. She'd been so stupid, so afraid of acting; she could have stopped it years ago if she'd just ripped every memory out of his head the first time he fucked her–

She didn't want to think about it. [i]Garrett[/i] didn't have to anymore. She wanted to [i]forget[/i]—

Rachel blinked. It felt like she'd woken from a dream, the details rapidly fading. Garrett– her stepfather. Something about her stepfather. She was upset. 

Using her power was second nature to her by now. Of course she was upset, she thought as her mind cleared. He'd been forcibly committed after entering a fugue state, and she had moved out. It was only natural. She must have dozed off, too tired from unpacking. 

It didn't matter. She could always finish it tomorrow. 

-----

[b][i]Present day[/b][/i]

Rachel hid inside the warehouse and waited. 

Six months earlier she'd interrupted a mugging in progress, paralysing the thug with a taser shock in the back. The couple hadn't seemed too familiar with her name; then again, all her previous fights had been with petty thieves and burglars. Not what she'd imagined when she first resolved to become a vigilante, but at least it was something. 

Then he'd broken down, saying that he'd only wanted money for drugs. Luckily, the taser meant he couldn't move while she kept her hands on him and waited for his memories to open up to her. He hadn't been lying, so she'd only broken his right arm and removed the previous three weeks from his memory. 

It would be a long time before she felt ready to take down one of the crime families. But she could at least take out one of their sources of money. 

According to her sources, this was one of the major coordinating sites for the Gambettis' drug trafficking activities. Taking out the people here would cripple their operation considerably. 

Around her, stacks of every drug she could think of, and the means of taking them. Syringes, needles, pipes...

She grabbed several syringes and began filling them with cocaine. It was only fitting that the dealers got a taste of their own medicine.