TIME WARP: Society is One Big Conspiracy (Sean)

Metahumans. Hammel. Gestalt Pairs.

All of these things had been completely foreign to Cee until his twin siblings had been visited by someone calling himself a “recruiter” after some alarming shows of strength. They mostly were still foreign to him—the Internet, as it turned out, had its limitations, and most of them seemed to revolve around metahumans. Oh, their cases in the civil rights department were well documented, and some of their abilities were as well, but of the Hammel Institute and Gestalt pairs there was despicably little.

Which made Cee suspicious. He told himself that it was perfectly reasonable and rational to keep such an institute hidden and there was no reason to be concerned or worried or in the slightest bit suspicious. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t browse some of the more…illogical conspiracy theory websites. Just in case. It never hurt to be too careful!

His parents asked him to help the twins settle, as they couldn’t afford the trip out, and he’d agreed readily. Spending all of the money from his latest programming deal, he’d bought them an incredible amount of decorations and junk food and helped them move all the stuff—although actually, this involved Cee falling flat on his face and the two twelve-year-olds giggling as they helped him up and helping him fix his glasses. They also kept teasing him about his clothes, which were unusually nice for Cee (AKA: a button down shirt and jeans that were actually in one piece, due to a closet intervention by his girlfriend Anna, who had thrown out everything else) and his pale skin. Once they were all moved in, Clark told him to go away, because Claire had just seen a cute boy and didn’t want her awkward storky brother there to mess things up.

Cee didn’t quite know how to handle the fact that he should be warning twelve-year-old Claire that the boy had better be bisexual and at the least open minded (because he’d gotten that much information out of his parents about some of the…oddities of the power), and so ducked out before that conversation could arise. Later. They’d have that conversation later. Smiling goofily, as he always did after seeing his siblings, he headed to a meeting he’d requested with a Dr. Neville, the psychiatrist there, who had said he’d be able to help the twins adjust.

Keen questions, he told himself. I will ask him keen questions. He wasn’t sure what those would be, but he’d figure it out! It was with that in mind that he—once he’d figured out how not to get lost and about, oh, fifteen minutes late—knocked on Dr. Neville’s door.