AU: My, Sean, you look young

[Dr. James Campbell]

So this was one of those things that only ever happened in Pilot Ridge.

Theoretically, it could happen anywhere, but the Meta-Human capitol of the United States also seemed to be a lighting rod for a weirdness vortex. (And James Campbell knew very well he was mixing weather metaphors, which is something that would have bothered him a lot more if he wasn't sing a therapist regularly and also if he wasn't seeing what he was seeing.)

He'd been called to an emergency recruitment situation, conveniently located in Pilot Ridge itself. It was after school had let out for the day, and James had been on his way home when his work phone rang. He'd made the most careful three-point turn he could before heading back towards town. The boy in question was easy to find, all he had to do was park his car, then head in the opposite direction of everyone else. The other people all looked concerned, and he heard a few murmurs that people had heard things. "Probably a psychic of some kind." James thought.

He approached the tall boy slowly, taking in details much faster than he moved. It was clear that the boy was disoriented, his body language clearly showed how scared he was. It looked like his clothes were hanging off of him, and something was familiar....

James stopped about ten yards away from the boy and tried his best to clear his head, just like Chase (And ironically, Sean) had told him to. He also took a deep breath, counting slowly as he let it out. He blinked deliberately, then again, but the sight in front of him didn't change. He was absolutely looking at his close friend, Sean Neville.

And Sean Neville was absolutely a 12-year-old boy.

The recruiter knew that was the age when Sean had first manifested his power, and that he'd had a difficult time controlling it for a long time following. (He'd have to call Chase as soon as he got Sean somewhere safer than a public sidewalk.) He also knew that had happened before James was born, but that was a freakout that was going to have to wait for a while.

He concentrated on keeping up what weak shields he was able to muster and spoke in as calm a voice as he could, "Sean? Sean Neville? Do you recognize me?"

After all, James was nothing if not genre-savvy. If Sean looked that young and that disoriented, he might not remember his long-time friends.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean kept a list of errands in his wallet. Tasks to complete after he finished his last session but before he returned home from Hammel. As the only driving member of the Neville-Bernstein household, he took the lion’s share of the outside errands during the winter months. Josh took more during summer, when his bicycle became practical rather than absurd, as it was during the worst of the snowfall.

He had finished his trip to the liquor store to buy a couple of replacement bottles of wine. The unintended consequence of their substitution system for beer and hard liquor was that they drank more wine these days. He had been en route to the dry cleaner’s to pick up his and Josh’s suits.

Then it had happened. He felt suddenly different, and he had lost control of the vehicle. It spun out, and only slamming both feet down on the brake had prevented a complete collision. That Pilot Ridge had relatively little traffic prevented greater injuries, although he was sure that he had frightened everyone around him.

His head ached, and he felt disoriented.

He didn’t know where he was, and yet, at the same time, felt certain that this was not where he should be.

Any ability to reflect on the situation disappeared with the sudden onslaught of pain. As though a jackhammer had gone through his skull but from the inside out. Like Athena herself splitting open his head in order to spring forth fully grown.

Then the whispers.

Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them, all at once. In his brain.

They wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t focus. Could barely breathe because they left no room for anything else in his brain. Too loud. Too many. Too quickly. Too close by.

He walked away from them. Tried to walk away from them. People avoided him on the street, but he paid no attention to them. He lacked the capacity to focus on them, although the voices intruded still. What’s wrong with him? What’s going on? Wait...he looks like…

Then, amidst the chaos, a bespectacled man approached him, calling his name. He snapped his head up, fear and confusion clouded his blue eyes, and he brought both hands to his head, as though that might block out the noise.

His brain was a jumble of information, too much to process, and for the longest moment, he simply stared at the bespectacled man, before something deep inside him, or maybe one of the voices, prompted him to say, “You’re James.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

James managed to keep a calm demeanor as he waited for his now-shrunken friend to reply. How many kids had he approached in more or less the same way over the years? Sure, he almost never knew the child ahead of time--the exception being his nephew, Jordan--but that confusion, that fear, was always the same.

It took far too long for Sean to respond, so when the boy finally did manage to say his name, James's face lit up. Okay, so it could be worse. "Good, Sean. I am James. Do you know what happened? You look like you're hurting."

It was never easy to talk to a newly-manifested telepath. He didn't want to overwhelm them with his mind--something that overwhelemed James sometimes and he'd had his perception for over three decades. He approached the boy, mentally taking stock of what he knew of the situation. For Sean to have reached the center of Pilot Ridge this soon after the end of the school day, he must have drove. Where was the car?

James gently put a hand on Sean's shoulder--which was a little bizarre, considering how used he was to Sean being the taller of the two--and gestured with his other hand towards a nearby bench. "How about we go sit down and you can tell me what happened, all right?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean flinched from the touch, instinct rather than knowledge telling him that touch would end in disaster.

How right he was. How he had never wished to be wrong more than his life.

The instant that James touched his shoulder, the boy felt a flash of information, so overwhelming. He knew that James didn’t know what to make of him and had expectations that Sean could not begin to know how to meet. He knew that everything was wrong.

He knew that he had left the car a few blocks away and it wasn’t in the same condition it had been before the crash.

Bad enough that his mind had been flooded with voices and impressions he could barely understand. Now he saw and heard and smelled things far out of his reach, and nothing was the way it should be. Everything was askew. Every little thing.

Although not a violent person, or even a particularly physical person all factors equal, Sean jerked back, pulling free of the bespectacled man’s touch.

Too late. Although the sensory overload faded a bit, he still had the impression of askew burned in his brain. Rapidly, he began to blink, as though that might ward off the impressions.

That failed.

So he began to hyperventilate.

[Dr. James Campbell]

Well shit.

Really, James should have known better than to try physical contact. Not every telepath reacted like that, and he'd never known Sean to, but he'd also never seen his friend in this kind of situation. He'd never seen him without complete control.

That was frightening enough on its own, but he didn't have time to deal with that now. James concentrated on keeping his mind as blank as possible, though he knew it probably wasn't helping the poor kid much. He also backed up a few steps and pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Chase. The trainer wasn't a recruiter and didn't have the training for that, but this was an extenuating circumstance. What Sean needed was someone who could help him control his telepathy.

In the meantime though, James was going to do what he could. In a calm quiet voice, he started talking again, still keeping a distance between them. "Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I didn't mean for that to happen, Sean. I know that frightened you. Everything got louder and more vivid, right? I'm sorry."

Of course, being reassuring could only help so much when the poor kid was hyperventilating. James gestured towards the bench again and tried to guide him there without touching him again. "Okay, now we're going to go sit down on that bench over there. No one's going to touch you. You don't have to talk, just focus on what I'm saying. Breathe in deep through your nose. One... two... three... four... five... Okay, now breathe out through your mouth. Five... four... three... two... one.... Now again, breathe in. One... two... three...."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The biggest ruse of Sean Neville’s life was the fact that unless someone knew him from his six years as a student at Hammel, - and truly, only during the first four – nobody would have indication of how difficult his life had been and how difficult it had been to control his powers as a student. As an adult, he possessed impeccable control: perfect shielding, excellent control over both the telepathy and the memory manipulation, and he could turn it on and off to whatever extent he needed or found useful.

Yet, when he had first manifested, and for the three months afterward, he had thought he was going insane. His parents had thought he was going insane. Nobody had said as much, but a psychiatric facility, known then as a mental hospital, had been in the back of both parents’ minds more often than not, until Hammel had found him.

Life had been agony. He absorbed everything like a sponge, and it weighed him down.

Although the touch hadn’t helped, the guidance in how to control his breathing did, and he nodded to show that he was listening.

As a boy, he had always been good at taking direction.

He breathed through his nose like the bespectacled man told him to, and then he held his breath, counting along to the best of his ability while the voices came at him from every direction. His first exhalation was more akin to a gasp than a breath, but he tried.

And again.

A few rounds of that and he felt...not calmer, but like he could breathe normally. Politeness led him to say, “Thank you,” although he did not come within arm’s reach of James again.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around himself. “Where’s Josh?”

[Dr. James Campbell]

James also had the experience of thinking he was going insane. The way his power had manifested and his lack of training when young had made an impact on his behavior for years. (Okay, the impact was still clearly visible.) But he didn't need that experience or his power to be able to tell that Sean was hurting.

He kept counting up and down until Sean was able to speak again. At least he wasn't hyperventilating anymore, which was a small victory. "You're welcome, Sean."

The boy's question threw him a little, and he checked his watch. It wasn't too late after the school day ended; presumably Josh would still be at work at the law firm. "I don't know where Josh is, exactly. He's probably still at work, right? We could call him and have him meet us. Or we could pick him up on our way back to Hammel."

James quickly scrolled through his contacts and found Josh's cell phone number. The lawyer didn't pick up, so he left a short message, hopefully one that wouldn't alarm the man too much. "Hello, Josh, it's James Campbell. Listen, Sean is not injured, but something happened and I need to talk to you right away. This is an emergency."

He hung up, then looked at the boy again. "Okay, before we go anywhere else, can you tell me what happened, Sean?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean nodded eagerly in agreement. The prospect of calling Josh was the first pleasant notion to occur since shortly before he had crashed his car. He stood there quietly, waiting while James placed the call, and then frowned when he heard the bespectacled man leave a message. That meant that Josh hadn’t picked up, and which also meant that they had no idea where he was or what he was doing. With luck, Josh would call them back soon. Being able to talk to him would help, he thought. He didn’t know why he thought that, but he felt it deep within his heart, with the same surety he knew that gravity kept him firmly planted on the ground.

His frown turned from mild disappointment to frustration at James’s question. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought as he struggled to find words to describe what had happened.

Best to start with the basics.

“It’s loud,” he said quietly.

Far too loud, and he found it difficult to concentrate as a result.

“And I crashed the car.”

He did not quite recall exactly where he had managed to do that, but he remembered swerved off the road and slamming down on the brake with all his might. He remembered getting out unscathed and how everyone avoided him as he walked down the street searching for silence. Then he had run into James, and here they were together now.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. He wasn't cold, but he wanted to be sure that Sean knew he was not going to touch him again and put him through dealing with his own messed up mind. The poor kid took a while to respond, which wasn't all that surprising, considering what had happened.

(Not that James actually knew what had happened. He'd never heard of someone regressing like this before. No control over his powers, being turned into a 12-year-old, but still remembering his friends and his partner. James figured it could be worse, though he didn't want to think about how.)

"Well, I think it's loud because you don't have control over your power right now." James glanced down at his phone again, trying to mentally urge either Josh or Chase to get back to him. Hopefully, that would happen soon.

And as for the car, that might just have to wait. It couldn't be a priority right now. "You don't look like you're physically hurt from the crash, Sean, is that true? Was anyone else hurt?"

The recruiter really wanted to get Sean somewhere safe, hopefully as far away from crowds as he could manage. "Do you want me to drive you back to your house? Or Hammel? Or we could go to my house; Chase will come and meet us whereever to help you with your power."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean didn’t notice that James put his hands in his pockets, although he had an idea in his head that the bespectacled man was trying, and, for that, the boy felt gratitude.

Sean then shook his head. “I’m not hurt.” He had managed to walk off without a scratch, which he considered lucky. Or which he would consider lucky if his head hurt less and if he had the slightest ability to tune out the far too many voices clambering for attention in his brain. “I don’t think anyone else got hurt either.” He didn’t remember anyone else being involved in the crash. He’d gone off the road into an unpopulated area and hit a sign, not a person.

He was trying to be helpful. He knew – the voices told him – that he was not as helpful as James wanted, but this was the best that he could do.

His eyes lit up at the option of going back to his house. “I’d like to go home,” he whispered with a nod. Going home would be nice. Being able to be in his own bedroom might give him a sense of peace, and he had an impression that he couldn’t shake that the voices would leave him alone back at his house. He had no reason to think that, but he felt it deep within himself.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James nodded and looked the boy (or man in a boy's body, as was becoming more and more clear) over. He didn't look injured, just shaken and distraught. Yes, getting him somewhere safe was the first step. The recruiter tapped on the message app on his phone, but looked back up before he started typing. "I could get someone from Hammel to handle your car. No offense, Sean, but you are in no condition to try to drive right now. Are you okay with me letting someone know to do that?"

Sean was his friend, despite looking like Niko's younger brother. James could keep his parental instincts in check as Sean was still capable of making adult judgments.

He could easily help with getting Sean somewhere less crowded, and so James turned and headed off down the street. "I'm parked right down this way. I'll bring you home and tell Chase to meet us there. We can also call Josh again. Do you have your phone with you?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean agreed that he was in no condition to drive right now. He had crashed his car, which should serve as evidence enough. He also had such difficulty focusing, and, at the moment, did not think he remembered how to drive a stick shift. “That’s fine. Just call Robert; he has my spare set of keys.”

He had no interest in arguing, and he had already been promised a ride home. As a result, when James turned and began walking, he put up no resistance.

Sean followed behind James as he had been bidden, keeping up fairly well with him. Although at twelve, he had yet to reach his full height, he was already tall and gangly, within a few inches of six feet and to continue growing like a weed for the next few years. This had failed to surprise anyone in his family; his father had stood 6’ 7” in life.

“I don’t know,” he said, and his voice cracked in the middle of the admission. He had taken nothing from the car after crashing. He had simply pushed himself out the door and started walking. But, he followed suit as James had earlier and began patting his pockets, searching for something that could be a telephone. He found a wallet and a set of keys and something wrapped in plastic and foil in a square shape.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"Oh. Okay." James nodded and pursed his lips. Robert? Robert Hopkins had been dead for a decade. There wasn't anyone else James could think of by that name who Sean would trust so instinctively, so he just sent a text to Vincent on the security team for Hammel. He could handle the car for now, and he wasn't the kind of guy who asked a lot of questions. James could work out exactly what to tell him later.

The recruiter glanced behind him and saw what Sean pulled from his pocket--not at all surprised to see him carrying a condom--including the lack of phone. It was probably still in the car then, and he wasn't about to turn them around to find it. He sent a text to that phone as well. If someone other than Vincent finds this phone, the driver of the car is okay. Please call this number.

There, that was another problem successfully stalled.

James didn't even try to keep the concern out of his voice as he led the boy to his car, unlocking it with the button on his keys. "Okay, let's get you home. It's okay that you don't have your phone, I'll make sure Josh knows to call mine instead."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Dead for a decade… The voice whispered that unbidden, and Sean snapped his head up, staring at James for a long moment, as though trying to work through a problem, but his focus slipped away as the other voices drowned out the train of thought and drained his mental energy.

Since nothing that he had found met with the bespectacled man’s approval, or seemed to interest him in the slightest, Sean shoved them back into his pockets. He might need them later, or else he could put them away at home.

The thought of home provided a beacon of peace, a gentle buoy amidst the mental chaos, and he clung to that with all the had had within him.

“Thank you,” he replied politely, climbing into the passenger seat of the car as soon as the doors unlocked. Once in his seat, he carefully fastened his seatbelt; he did that reflexively. Without knowing when he had started (the moment the first car he rode in offered seatbelts, in fact. He had always been so careful), he knew that it was important for his safety.

“I’m sorry for losing it.” That seemed like something that warranted an apology, since James had asked about it several times.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James looked over at the boy in the passenger seat and studied him for a moment. Just minutes ago it had seemed like Sean was...well, himself. Now he seemed to be acting every inch of the child his body was.

"You're welcome, Sean. I'm glad I can help you." Once Sean had buckled in--without the patronizing reminder James so frequently gave his own children--James put on his own seatbelt, started the car, and headed toward Sean and Josh's house.

Really, James wasn't too worried about the phone. If emergency services got to the car before Vincent and found it, hopefully they would see the text from him. "It's okay about the phone. I sent a text to let whoever finds it know that you're all right. Vincent from Security is going to help out with the car itself. Now, just give me a second."

Then James pulled his phone own phone from his pocket again. He spoke clearly and deliberately, "Mrs. Landingham?"

The phone beeped and the screen turned blue.

"Text Chase Campbell on mobile."

The phone beeped again, and then replied in a robotic woman's voice, "What's the message?"

"Change of plans. Period. Meet us at Sean's house. Period. Let me know when you get this. Period."

There, that should do it.