Writing Challenge: 150 stories. Go.

[Robin Douglas]

148. Style


It was everywhere, all over her clothes, all over her hands. Robin looked down at them now, her hands. They were wet, red, and sticky as she pressed her fingers into her palms and then pulled them away. However it was the smell that made Robin feel like she was going to hurl. It was everywhere, it overwhelmed her. She gagged a little in the back of her throat.

Painting this dining room was turning out to be a pain in the ass.

Robin wasn’t even sure how many coats of paint she was supposed to put on the walls, and whether or not the primer was built in. On the bright side it looked nice and glossy, if not a little rough in places. However she had worked out a cool pattern with tape that she planned on using on the walls. She had painted undercoats and then had used painters tape to mark off a geometric design. Still it was all this red pain that was killing her now. She just wanted it to cover the brown well, and she didn’t feel like it was. This was what happened when one did not ask their local home depot employee and instead ran in and out with cans of paint.

Robin pulled the bandana she had around her neck up over her nose. At least that blocked some of the smell. Still there was no escaping it as she was fairly certain that she had more paint on her than the walls did. She was just trying to make the house look… well, fashionable. Perhaps pottery barn catalogues had given her ideas that were too lofty for her skill set but who would blame her for trying. Robin was a fan of the dramatic, though mainly in reference just to art.

The other problem of this room was function vs effort. She could put as much time and effort as she wanted into making it look chic, but really what would that do? It was a thought that she really hated to admit to herself after all of this. Robin half turned when she heard someone enter the room.

“Robin, what are you doing?” It was accompanied by something that was almost a chuckle. Robin’s brow knitted a little as she turned to face Gideon.

“I’m working on the dining room, it should look really cool when I’m done.” She had her back to the wall that she had been working on now, which made it a little easier to imagine that any of this was going to be successful. She watched Gid appraise the situation and shrug.

“How much do you really think you are going to use this room?” There it was. Robin’s brow went from furrowed to set with determination.

“Every day,” she said firmly. “I swear to god that we will use this room every day, and if you don’t eat in here…” She pointed a finger at him in a way that should have been threatening but frankly, wasn’t. “Then I’ll fine you. I will house fine you.” Finished with her rant she turned back to the wall, filled with new vigor to finish the project. Two seconds later her shoulders slumped a little and Robin let out a breath.

“Or maybe not.” She looked over her shoulder at Giddy. “Want to break for lunch? I think these paint fumes are getting to my head.” So Robin walked away from that project for a while and into the kitchen. She grabbed a sandwich out of the fridge and then walked out, planting herself on the porch. She didn’t even mind that she looked like she had just murdered someone. So much for fashionably suburban.

[Patricia Reed]

90. Scrabble

1982

Patricia sat across from her fiancé of six months. They were sat at a small table only big enough for two, Scrabble set up on it. It was a game they both enjoyed playing, the woman more so. And she suspected that Scott had let her win on more than one occasion, which bothered her more than she was willing to admit. But the way his brow were furrowed as he stared at his tiles told her she was winning all on her own.

As she waited for him to take his turn, Patricia’s hand rubbed across her swollen stomach. It felt as if she’d only just gotten pregnant. But the fact of the matter was that she was now six months along. Which didn’t leave her a lot of time to dole out the decision she’d finally come to. But she needed to be sure. “So how were classes today dear?”

He probably answered her. She didn’t hear him though. She needed to be sure she was making the choice. On the one hand, would being a mother be awful? Patricia didn’t know of a single woman who didn’t want to be a mother, didn’t aspire to be one. And Scott was a nice, handsome, wealthy man. He was everything she’d been taught to search for in a man. And any woman would be lucky to have him. On the other hand, she wasn’t ‘any woman’. Nor did she think she simply wanted the rest of her life to be dedicated to taking care of Scott and his children. But one of the biggest factors was that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Scott could never make her happy.

While he continued to prattle on, Patricia made sure to interject at the appropriate times with an ‘oh’ or ‘ah’ or some variation. It made her sound uncaring, but it wasn’t true. She did care for Scott. She’d known him for many many years and had, at the very least, come to think of him as a very dear friend. But nothing more. Even if they were engaged. Aside from that, he was taking business classes. A subject she found to be particularly boring.

“Scott…” Patricia interrupted him, just as he was taking in more air. Finally looking up from his tiles, he looked at her. “Yes Patti?” But she kept her own eyes on the board. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1985

It was the first time Patricia had been back at her parents’ home since they first cut off communication. The ten months that it had taken for them, not only her parents but siblings too, to start talking to her again had been long and difficult. She had come expect her parents being proud of her and maybe even a little bit favoring towards her. So those ten months had seemed much longer than they had been.

Although, the last two days had seemed particularly long as well. Her mother took every opportunity to tell Patricia that at this very moment, she could’ve been married to a successful businessman and pregnant with her second or even third child. And each time, the middle child informed her mother, in an exasperated voice, that she had done what she thought was best for everybody. And that she was in fact very happy with her life as it was right then.

What her mother didn’t know was that Patricia was still struggling with the fact that she’d given up her baby for adoption. A closed adoption. Of course, she knew she did the right thing. And she doubted she would’ve been the kind of mother a child needs or deserves. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about the baby she’d held for only moments before giving her up to a family that Patricia had been able to pick.

“Adelaide, it’s your turn sweetie.” Her father’s deep and rough voice brought her attention back to the game of Scrabble on the table. “Sorry daddy.” She said with a smile. Glancing at the board and at her tiles, she laid down a few letters, forming the word ‘enzyme’. “Damn. Can’t you let your old man win just once?” Smiling even more, she shook her head. “You never let us win as kids daddy.”

Just then, her mother sat down. “Well if you had kids Patricia, you would be able to let them win on occasion if you wanted. And she already knew where the conversation would be heading from here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1996

Joanne and Patricia had been sitting in silence since their game started. Not many words had been exchanged between them at all since they returned home from New York a few days ago when they had visited Patricia’s parents. “You shouldn’t care what they think of you or us for that matter Addie.” Joanne said as she laid a few Scrabble pieces onto the board.

They’d had a very short conversation about it already. A few actually. And short in the sense that Joanne said the same thing and Patricia said she didn’t want to talk about it and walked away. Looking from the board to her tiles, she lifted her glass of wine and took a long sip before she responded to her girlfriend. “I understand that. But I do care. So please just leave it alone.” Her voice wasn’t angry or annoyed, but there was an air of finality in it that said she didn’t want to discuss it any further. Because she was tired of Joanne trying to talk about it. They’d only been dating about ten months after all. Did that mean Joanne had to know every little thing about her?

When the woman across from her sighed, Patricia looked up from the tiles she was laying onto the board. “What’s the matter?” With all the tiles secured in place, she leaned back in her chair, waiting for Joanne’s answer.

“You care what they think about you Addie. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t. If they can’t accept you- If your own family can’t accept you, then what kind of family are they?” It seemed that Joanne forgot about the game entirely the way she was leaned across the table. And her eyes looked as if they were trying to convince Patricia to understand what she was saying.

Growing more and more tired as the seconds slowly passed, Patricia hoped to change the subject. “It’s your turn Joanne.” But instead of returning to Scrabble, Joanne’s face took on an annoyed, almost angry, expression. So Patricia gave in. “Fine. Lets talk about this.”

“Yes, I care. I care desperately Joanne. Because I think I did this wrong. I should’ve told them I was bringing home a woman on the phone. Let them know ahead of time. At the very least, I could’ve used the money I wasted on plane tickets.” Looking directly at Joanna, Patricia voice stayed calm and even the whole time. If she were going to be forced to be honest about this, she would not be in hysterics about it.

“But more than that, my family is never going to speak to me again Joanne. And if they do, it won’t be for a very very long time. For the time being, I have no family. So yes, I do care. I am a thirty-four year old woman who cares what her parents think and I have no shame in that.”

Raising her glass again, she said, “It’s still your turn.” Then took another sip of wine.

[Feivel Silverstein]

149. Darkness


"Hey...Fives, are you crying?" A blond boy slipped into his twin brother's room. It was the middle of the night, and the blackout meant that no light came in from the streetlamp outside. "Come on, it's just dark. You scared?"

"Shut up, Giddy." Feivel rolled to face the other way, still sniffling. "That's not way. My back hurts."

"The power will come back on soon, and you can have your nightlight back." He poked at his brother's back, and sat down on the edge of the bed when Feivel started to actually cry. "Sorry! Is it really that bad? Want me to get Mom?"

"No....maybe? Giddy, it really hurts. It started after practice today. It feels like my back is going to explode." He sat up and winced, then lay down again.

Gideon gently shook his shoulder, trying to avoid hurting him again. "And the power's gonna come back on soon. It's gonna be okay. I'll go get Mom."

"No! I don't want to stay in the dark."

Sitting down again, Giddy looked over his shoulder at the door. "Look, I'm gonna show you something, but you can't tell Mom and Dad, okay?"

"Why, what is it?"

"It's really cool, look." He held his hand up, over Feivel's face, and concentrated. Slowly, lines of lights started blinking their way from his fingertips to his wrist. "It started yesterday. My sweat glows too."

"How're you doing that?" Fives sat up and grabbed his brother's hand, looking for a wire or something that could be causing it. "Is it a magic trick?"

"Nah, I can just do it. I think I'm one of those metas, Fives. I can glow! Like Jubilee, except I can't shoot it." He held up his other hand and started it glowing too, but he only managed his fingertips. "I can be your nightlight!"

"Can you do any other colors?"

Gideon screwed up his face in concentration for a minute, and the lights in his hands got brighter, but stayed the same shade of electric blue. "Is it different?"

"No, still blue."

"Maybe 'cause I've been eating the blue otter pops."

"Maybe." Fives winced as he shrugged again. That made as much sense as anything else. "You gonna tell Mom and Dad?"

"I dunno, what if they get scared?"

"Sentinels aren't real, Giddy. And they're not going to abandon you or anything." He gasped and pulled off his tee-shirt. "Ow ow ow, did something bite me? It really hurts."

Gideon poked his brother's back, then gasped himself when the wings started uncurling from under his skin. "Whoa..." He ran his hand along the butterfly wings as they began to unfold. "Something blue and shiny is coming out of your back. They look like wings."

Feivel looked over his shoulder at the wings and subconsciously stretched them out. His eyes widened, and the pain faded as they reached their full size and gently flapped. "I've got wings."

"Cool. Can you fly?"

Hammel was alerted about the Silverstein twins after their parents brought them to the hospital. Feivel had a broken wrist and their mother believed Gideon had broken a glowstick and drank the contents.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#140 – Eviscerate

Joshua Bernstein attended many parties, because he was friendly and well-liked by his coworkers. There were often work functions or parties at coworkers’ apartments for the holidays or simply weekend barbecues for those who lived in the boroughs. He enjoyed the parties because he loved to socialize, and he was usually able to eat well, drink well, and meet new people. What wasn’t to like?

But never in a hundred years would Josh have thought that some of his coworkers were mutual friends with Sean’s sister and brother-in-law.

Yet, while he sat chatting with Blake about local politics, he spied the familiar couple making the rounds of introduction. While he’d only met Colin Finnerty a couple of times, the fiery red hair and poise of his wife was unmistakable. Josh had met Kathleen Finnerty (Kathleen Neville the first time he had met her) many, many times.

In his mind, they were friends. Of sorts.

So when Colin disappeared to speak to another man in a suit, Josh flagged down the redheaded woman, offering to get her a drink or to fix her a plate of finger foods.

For reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, she was frosty in her greeting. Still, the attorney got her a glass of the red wine that was floating around (fondness for wine appeared to be a hereditary trait, given Sean’s enjoyment as well), and had invited her to sit. She’d looked around and then seemingly resigned herself to his presence, seating herself and daintily crossing her legs.

Despite the familial resemblance, she was Sean’s polar opposite. Josh had never spent time with her without the tall telepath there to act as a buffer of sorts, and having her alone was far different from what he had imagined it would be.

After all, Sean had never seemed uncomfortable when left alone with Talia or Matt at Bernstein family parties where the telepath had been invited.

Yet Kathleen answered all of his questions with replies of fewer than ten words. Josh knew better than to engage her in a conversation about politics, and he didn’t know much about popular culture. He mentioned a couple of bands he thought they might have in common, but it was like talking to a wall. He tried current events, he tried development in the City, he tried traffic patterns, he tried asking about Colin and her baby, he tried the weather, but nothing stuck.

Ten words or fewer, sometimes as few as one or two.

For someone who wasn’t used to easily making friends and also didn’t suffer from anxiety (although he did his best to mask it), this would not be a cause for concern. Not everyone was a talker. But Josh knew better; he could just tell that something was wrong. And it was hard not to wonder and not to get involved.

He had never been particularly good at keeping his thoughts to himself.

So, after inwardly debating the matter for a few minutes in otherwise oppressive silence from Sean’s sister, he finally asked, “Did I do something to upset you?” Had he missed some etiquette cue? He was fairly sure that Kathleen had gone to finishing school, certainly the way she held herself and everything he knew about Sean’s parents made that a distinct possibility.

Kathleen was quiet for a long moment, although her expression conveyed that, yes, he had. Finally, she turned to look at him with icy green eyes and asked, “Are you really that oblivious? And they let you practice law?”

Josh blinked at her in surprise. “Pardon?”

“You had to ask this question? As if it wasn’t obvious?”

“I, ahhh, I apologize for whatever I did,” Josh offered, hoping that would smooth everything over.

Kathleen narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t have the slightest idea, do you?”

“Well...” No. Josh was distressed to know that it was obvious, particularly since the accusation and question were coupled with insults to his intelligence and his professional reputation.

She stared at him with a hardened gaze, and then she lowered her voice. “You seduced my brother.”

Oh. The attorney lowered his voice, because he didn’t want that broadcast everywhere, not with coworkers present; he doubted that Kathleen wanted anyone else to overhear this conversation either. “That isn’t exactly what happened.”

Kathleen inhaled sharply through her nose, and Josh couldn’t help but notice that she shared that habit with Sean; the telepath did the same thing when he was irritated. “He could have gotten seriously ill because of you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“We’re both clean,” Josh replied, baffled. He and Sean had been monogamous when they had dated, and unlike many of their friends, they’d actively used prophylactics before the advent of AIDS. Besides, he’d given Josh his virginity; he couldn’t have passed on any diseases to the telepath, and he knew that there had been a greater chance of Sean voting Republican than there was of him ever committing an act of infidelity.

Another sharp inhalation through her delicate nose. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Josh blinked at her in surprise. It didn’t mean anything? She was the daughter of a doctor and the sister of another doctor; Josh knew that she knew better than to say that. She was well-educated, and intelligent albeit horribly misguided. Surely she understood the causes of disease.

“You ruined him,” she whispered in accusation. He blinked again, because that made even less sense than her previous remark.

She seemed to realize that he didn’t understand, because she offered an explanation. “Before you came along, he would have gotten married and had a family; he would still have gone to Church and he would have been as normal as he could be with his power. He’d still live in New York and have a real practice instead of working at that awful school. He could have been happy, but you took that away from him. You broke him.”

“I...what?” Josh didn’t understand the point she was trying to make, but despite that lack of understanding, he felt his heart begin to race. He understood that she was insinuating that Sean wasn’t happy accused him of being the cause.

She made a frustrated noise, obviously irritated with him, which only made him more baffled and guilty. “You broke him. You took away his future, and you damned his soul to Hell.”

Indignation on Josh’s part, both for himself and for Sean, caused him to bristle. It managed to wash over him with enough power to beat back the guilt, at least for a moment. “I did no such thing,” he protested. “Sean has a great future ahead of him; he’s well-liked and well-respected at his job, and he has lots of friends.”

Josh saw no reason to mention his opinions about Hammel; while he didn’t agree with their monopoly, he certainly wouldn’t describe Sean’s employer and alma mater as awful. He didn’t want Kathleen to think they agreed on this issue.

“Besides,” he added, ignoring the way that his stomach flipped at the thought, “He’s dated lots of people since me. He’s been happy with them.”

“He’s dated men,” Kathleen said with a frown and a stern glance.

“That’s not true.” Well, not entirely true. Josh had met Orion a few times, and he hadn’t liked the tall Greek accountant one bit. That hadn’t been Orion’s fault – Josh could admit that when he was honest with himself; Orion was likable and generous, and more than anything, he had wanted to be friends with Josh. That had been impossible, because he’d made Sean happy.

That was something else he couldn’t admit to Kathleen, not when trying to defend himself or her brother.

“He’s dated lots of women.” Felicity, the twins, women from the hospital, the chef...the list went on.

“He’s not married,” Kathleen pointed out. Josh had noticed that, but it didn’t invalidate his point. The attorney opened his mouth to say as much, but Kathleen interrupted, “And no self-respecting woman would marry him. He’s a deviant, Mister Bernstein, and you made him that way.”

“I...he...” Anger warred with guilt, insecurity warred with righteous indignation. In the end, Josh mounted a weak defense. “He’s not, and...ahhh...I’m not.”

It was hard to make logical points with the hatred in her eyes focused entirely on him. It would be easier if this was all hypothetical, and he tried very hard to make this only about Sean, his best friend about whom he could rhapsodize for hours if given the opportunity. Not about Sean in relation to him. “You...ahhh...you probably don’t want to hear this, but he was the nicest, most generous, most loyal person I’ve ever dated. He still is, and so the people who haven’t married him are the ones missing out. And if they’re too foolish to see that, then they aren’t good enough for him anyway.”

Josh hoped that Sean’s sister could agree with him on that point; or at least, she would stop staring ice cold daggers at him.

Judging by the irritated flaring of her nostrils, no such luck. “He’s loyal to you, Mister Bernstein. The reason he isn’t married isn’t because no woman is good enough; it’s because a husband is supposed to be a whole person, not leftovers.” She pursed her lips together in thought, before adding, “I’m a lot smarter than anyone gives me credit for.”

Josh was baffled as to where that came from; Sean always spoke highly of his sister’s intelligence, but he lamented her opinions and the fact that she willingly closed herself off to new ideas, not that she was incapable of understanding them. Josh, admittedly, did question her intelligence entirely because of her political opinions, but he hadn’t said that, and he knew that telepathy didn’t run in the Neville family. Sean was the outlier there. “Pardon?”

“I know what you are.”

His blank stare must have prompted explanation, because she continued, “I don’t mean a homosexual or his...his...seducer. You’re a cipher. You’ve been sucking the life out of him since he met you, and that’s why he went back up to that school. It’s fully of broken people, people who have less than he has, so he looks whole by comparison. Everybody down here knows about you because he doesn’t hide it, but there...” She shook her head to herself. “There nobody knows how little he has.”

His blank stare morphed into one of horror. “You think he’s ashamed?”

Her laughter was short and cruel. “I wish he was; the problem is he isn’t, and he never is. He has to spend his life knowing that he wasn’t even good enough for you, so what hope does he have otherwise?”

Josh opened his mouth again to respond but he was cut off. “He’s turned into the girl we were all warned about at school, the one who puts out to try to make friends but it never works. And he’s damned for it.”

It was easy for Josh to dismiss the notion of Sean being damned for this, since there was nothing morally wrong with his behavior; the telepath was a good person, and Josh didn’t subscribe to Christian beliefs about Hell anyway. He also knew that Sean wasn’t promiscuous. What he couldn’t dismiss, however, was the notion that Sean might think he wasn’t good enough for anyone, let alone Josh.

“And despite the fact that you ensured that he will be alone forever, he still talks about you like hung the moon. Do you have any idea-”

Her question was interrupted by the arrival of her husband with the man in a suit with whom he’d been conversing. He ignored Josh and said, “This is my wife, Kathleen.”

The woman’s expression changed immediately, becoming pleasant and she offered her hand to the man in the suit. “Are you Alex Moreau? My husband has told me so much about you.”

With that, she rose from her seat to follow her husband, leaving Josh alone with his thoughts.

[Samuel Rixon]

96. Enchanting

As much as he could try to say otherwise, Jake Lawrence was completely and utterly wrapped around his daughter’s finger.

On her sixth birthday, she had asked her parents for a puppy. Jake had complied, and gotten her a pretty Rottweiler puppy, promptly called Princess.

When she was eight, she’d come home from school bawling over animals that didn’t have homes. Jake had promptly taken her by the hand, and had adopted two bunnies for her.

At twelve, she had become enamoured with the idea of ponies, and had begged her parents for one. For days, she’d littered the living room with print outs of beautiful, sleek Arabians, athletic Warmbloods, and fuzzy ponies. For days, Jake had remained tight lipped on the subject, and having lengthy conversations with Morgan about it. Yes, their daughter was spoiled. Yes, they had the space for such a large pet.

Lily came home from school one day with a surprise waiting for her in the field attached to the house. A large, furry palomino pony stood with a massive pink bow on his halter.

It was easy to see that for her, all she had to was ask, and she would receive. She had a way of enchanting not only her fathers, but most of the people around her, as well.

~

Morgan got out of the car, not quite believing his eyes. There had been no discussion about this whatsoever, and when Jake got home, there would be a good long talk about doing things behind his back. Yes, Lily was getting a little too tall to ride Kalen anymore, but he honestly hadn’t thought that Jake would just go out and buy another horse.

But there was the proof, right there in the field. A second palomino, a very tall, sleek, pretty thing. It was nose to nose with Kalen, as if they were having a conversation. At least until it caught sight of Morgan.

With a surprising grace, the animal ran across the field, tossing its’ head and whinnying in what looked like either excitement, or panic. Cautiously, Morgan approached the horse and reached up to pat its’ cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. Where did you come from?” In answer, the horse issues a series of noises that sounded less random, and more like it was actually trying to speak to him. “Shh, it’s okay. We’ll find where you belong.”

He stepped away to make a phone call, relieved when Jake answered. “Jake. When did you get another horse for Lily, and why didn’t we talk about it?”

“What? Morgan, I didn’t. She’s still happy with Kalen. Wait. Why?”

“There’s a horse in the yard.”

“And it’s not Kalen?”

“No, Kalen’s there too. It’s another one.”

“What’s it look like?”

“I don’t know, a horse. Taller than Kalen, prettier too.”

“Okay. Just check the fence, make sure it’s not broken anywhere. Maybe it jumped in. I’ll look when I get home. It probably belongs to a neighbour.” And with that, Jake hung up, and Morgan was left watching the newcomer dance at the fence line.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find where you belong.”

Things got weirder after that. Lily was expected to be home from school long before her fathers. But as soon as Morgan was in the house, he noticed that while her shoes and backpack were by the door, Lily was nowhere in sight. There was no note, either.

Great. He now had an extra horse, and a missing daughter.

“Lily?”

No answer, just a loud whinny from outside. He tried again. “Lily!” Nothing, just the same answering call from the pasture.

He did not want to tell Jake that he’d lost their daughter.

Thankfully, Jake came home in between Morgan’s pacing, and unproductive calls to Lily’s cell phone. He had his hands in his pockets as he came in, shrugging. “I don’t recognize her, and I can’t see any ID. She’s got to belong to someone, though.” He smiled and rubbed his neck. “Lily hasn’t seen her yet, has she? She’ll want to keep her.” Morgan looked up, though not quite able to meet Jake’s gaze, and shook his head.

“No, she hasn’t. She’s –”

“DADDIES!” Running footsteps came from the entryway. Lily was standing there, dressed in the ratty clothes she normally kept in the small stable for doing Kalen’s chores. She didn’t look scared, much to Morgan’s relief. She looked.... exhilarated. “Did you SEE?”

“See what, Princess?” Jake turned and grinned, scooping her up into a hug.

“I was a HORSE!”

Jake blinked.

Morgan’s jaw dropped.

At least they both knew a good school.

[Chase Campbell]

32. Carrot

The look his step-daughter was giving Chase was making him want to squirm. It was one of those looks that made it seem that someone was looking right through you. In the most pitiful defense he could muster, the trainer pulled one of the throw pillows from the couch and hugged it to his chest.

Didn’t work. Ginny kept watching him. The tiniest hint of a smirk was present now.

She’d been helping James make dinner. For all he knew, that look indicated it was poisoned in some way.

“What, Gin?”

“Nothing!” She smiled innocently and held her hands up, then walked away to set the table before her father asked her to. Niko bounded up from his spot on the couch to help her, leaving Chase to wonder what the teenager was up to.

He had his answer when they sat down to dinner. It was, as usual when James was in charge of it, incredible. Nothing seemed out of place. Not until Ginny very deliberately came around and scooped a few baby carrots onto her step-father’s plate.

“I think that the no dessert rule should apply to adults too,” she announced as she took her seat beside Niko. She flashed Chase an innocent, but triumphant grin. “Unless they eat aaalll their veggies.”

James snickered into his napkin, impressed with Ginny’s approach. Chase just looked at her, then down at the plate.

“They won’t kill you,” she teased as she proved her point, popping one in her mouth.

“I know,” Chase muttered. Without batting an eye, he speared one and ate it. Ginny arched an eyebrow.

“I thought you were like... racist against veggies.” Chase smirked.

“Not all of them.” James could have told her that, too, had she asked. The teenager looked somewhat annoyed that her perfect plan had been foiled.

Truth be told, his mother had had a hand in teaching him just a little bit of respect for them.

“Chase, I’m serious. You’re not going to football practice until you finish.”

“But MOM!”

“I mean it. And don’t even think about giving it to the dogs. Come on. It won’t kill you.”

“That’s not FAIR.”

“Life’s not fair. Eat your dinner.”

But only a little.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

I’m still undecided about whether I want this to count as Babyverse canon, so for now, it isn’t Babyverse canon. But there is nothing horribly AU about this story.

#119 - Egg

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Kathleen Finnerty?”

“This is she.”

“It’s Joshua Bernstein. I know that the last time we spoke, it didn’t end on the best of notes, but I wanted to tell you something about Sean.”

“Is he in the hospital again?”

“No. Well, not exactly...no.”

A pause. “Is he in some form of occupational therapy?”

“No, he’s healthy. I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to have a baby.”

“My brother’s choices to adopt are none of my business, Mister Bernstein. Now, is that all?”

“Wait! I mean, he and I are going to have a baby. Together. He’s...ahhhh...he’s pregnant.”

“...”

“I know it’s a shock, but the baby is due in six months and-”

Click.

“Hello? Hello? Kathleen?”

*******************************************

The phone call went about as well as Sean had expected, although Josh had professed a sincere hope that she would be more supportive. The telepath had given up trying to explain the situation with his sister long ago, when the other man had proven that he was incapable of truly understanding; Sean couldn’t even fault him that, since it was merely indicative of the strong, healthy familial bonds that the Bernstein clan shared amongst themselves.

Ryan, at least, had been more enthusiastic about the notion; his nephew had excellent coping skills. Although he didn’t have any of Sean’s genes in the direct lineal sense, the psychiatrist knew they had gotten those skills from the same ancestor.

“Are you going to keep it?”

Not “How is that possible?” or “Is this a joke?” or “But I thought you were a man?”; not even any thoughts about what sexual act could have resulted in such an occurrence. But simply an inquiry into his plans, as though cisgendered male pregnancy was a common phenomenon, no different from if one of Ryan’s college friends or cousins on his father’s side had announced her pregnancy.

“Of course I am.”

Then a wide smile had lit up Ryan’s features. “Boy or girl?”

“I don’t know,” Sean had confessed with a slight shrug. “I want to be surprised.”

That situation hadn’t lasted. While the psychiatrist sincerely wanted to find out after birth, as he had no intention of treating a son differently from a daughter, there were two unplanned for problems with that goal: 1) Josh didn’t want to be surprised, and 2) the telepathy made it impossible for Josh to know something that Sean didn’t.

They were going to have a daughter.

Josh’s mother, after recovering from the shock and the period of anxiety-inducing silence (as far as Josh was concerned), had bought a bunch of dresses for ages zero-to-six months. Some of them were pink.

Josh had thanked her properly, and then complained about pink frilly dresses as soon as he and Sean were safely alone at their house. The telepath had listened for a few moments – since he did agree with some aspects of the tirade, although for vastly different reasons – and then he’d excused himself to nap.

Napping was fast becoming Sean’s favorite hobby.

In a stunning turn of events, cuddling was fast becoming Josh’s favorite hobby; at least, his most often-initiated one. Sober, gentle cuddling. On the bed, on the sofa, in the hot tub, which was a favorite place now more than ever, as the water, heat, and sensation of weightlessness eased the ever-present pain in Sean’s back and feet.

During tea time with Estelle, the mellow teenage girl had remarked, “At least you aren’t Ocampa.”

When it became apparent that the reference was lost on the psychiatrist, she had offered an apologetic smile and looked down at her teacup. “There’s an alien species from Star Trek,” she explained. “They give birth from their backs.”

Sean admitted that sounded unpleasant; he would have to sleep on his stomach, which was a trait that he’d never developed. Although he didn’t envy women the experience of “natural” birth either.

Not that a C-section was the most ideal situation, but he’d made the arrangements as soon as he’d been diagnosed as pregnant and the date of conception had been identified. All of their friends were likewise require C-sections, although some of the men seemed to drag their feet regarding the arrangements.

While Sean understood the feelings of dread surrounding uncomfortable medical procedures in the abstract, he was simply too cautious and practical to ever find merit in delaying the necessary. He was probably the only man in the state, if not the country (or any country practicing Western medicine), who hadn’t made complaints about scheduling his first colonoscopy when turning fifty.

In fact, that hadn’t even been the most unpleasant aspect of turning fifty.

His age did concern him; however, he was cautious about the notion of birth defects. Aside from the fact that no cisgendered man had ever been pregnant before (and his due date was the first of the men in Pilot Ridge – lucky him), he was also older than all of the other expectant fathers. He would be seventy-three when Eleanor graduated high school and seventy-seven by the time of her college commencement. Eighty or older, if she was to pursue professional degrees.

The telepath reflected on that often; he was glad that longevity was in Josh’s genes, so there was a high probability of him being around for many years after Sean died, assuming that they both engaged in lifestyle changes. Sean wanted both of them to cut back on the drinking, and he wanted Josh to give up smoking altogether.

That would be a long-term project.

At least Josh was trying for the duration of the pregnancy, and that was a start. It helped, because Sean found that his sense of smell was keener these past months; or, at least, he was more sensitive to odors than he had been, and the cigarette smell made him sick and gave him a headache. However, the reduction in the odor of cigarettes allowed for Sean to actually smell and appreciate the scent of avocado left over from Josh’s soap, which was far more preferable.

Plus, the bathing together was nice.

The expectancy period provided for lots of bonding time, for which Sean was grateful. While he took the pregnancy, the physical and emotional changes, and the future planning in stride, there was certainly comfort to be found in having his partner with him throughout the experience.

Even when it was apparent that the younger man was embarrassed. Even when Sean wasn’t.

“I need new pants,” the telepath had said, when he had barely been able to fasten his pants around his ever-expanding stomach.

“We can go to the Men’s Big and Tall,” Josh suggested.

Sean shook his head. “I need something more comfortable.” He began to chuckle, because these were words he’d never believed he would say. “I need maternity clothes.”

“Paternity clothes,” Josh corrected automatically. He had made it his mission to erase gendered language as applied to the pregnant men, although he didn’t think his efforts were appreciated. Although, the Lamaze instructor was good about saying “mothers and fathers” or “ladies and gentlemen.”

“If I say paternity clothes at the store, they’ll inform me there isn’t a dress code for that.”

“If you say maternity clothes, they might stare.”

“And?”

Josh hadn’t had a good retort.

Always a large man, there had been only a few downsides during Sean’s life. The most notable of which was that he had to duck when in certain rooms and he most certainly couldn’t fit in small spaces. He was also used to not being able to buy off the rack, although he usually was able to find something.

Nothing at the store had fit. While the waists were fine, the legs were far, far too short. The clerk had been helpful and had offered to special order several pairs, after taking Sean’s measurements.

His regular pants would last another week or so, he hoped. Long enough to wait on the new ones.

Admittedly, he enjoyed being home because he didn’t have to wear pants, and thus there was less constraint around his stomach.

He was always so careful with his stomach now. Josh equally so; gone were the playful grabs for his love handles, replaced with only the gentlest of touches.

“Can you feel her?” Sean asked, as they lay together on the bed. Josh had one hand splayed tenderly over the telepath’s stomach.

“I think so,” the attorney said. He smiled after a moment. “I think I felt her moving. Is she moving?”

Sean covered Josh’s hand on his stomach. “Yes. She’s full of life.”

[Midori Hawkins]

63. Secret

For someone bringing home their girlfriend for the first time, Tory was surprisingly calm. It was Kaley that was fretting beside him. She’d already asked if his parents would like her, what might happen if they didn’t, and was generally a little insecure about the whole thing. Tory had tried to assure her that things would be fine, but apparently she hadn’t been listening all that closely.

“I promise you, it’s going to be fine. They’ll like you.” They’d only been dating a few weeks, after meeting in the drama program at the University of Vermont. Both Midori and Eli had heard a lot about her already, which was exactly why he was calm. “Just, um...” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to work out how to word what he wanted to convey.

“Just what?” Kaley looked concerned. Tory smiled and took one hand off the wheel to pat her leg.

“My dad can be a little intimidating sometimes. And he’ll probably use a lot of big words. Sometimes he talks a little like a robot, but it’s just him.” Kaley had a hard time stifling a giggle at that, though she paused a moment later.

“I thought you said your mom and dad didn’t live together.”

“Mn, not exactly. My mom and father don’t live together. But my mom and dad do.” He didn’t have to look at her to know she was confused. “Eli’s like my dad. He helped raise me. I jokingly started calling him Dad when I was a kid, and... he never told me to stop, so I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I never see my father anyway, so I don’t think it’s hurting anyone.”

“What does he do, then? If you never see him.” Tory gave a tiny eye roll at that. It was funny, how an interest in drama seemed somewhat hereditary.

“He’s an actor. Darryl Bond? That’s him.” Kaley’s eyes widened slightly, and she squeaked.

“Seriously, Tor? He’s your father? How cool is that?!” Used to this (and one of the reasons he rarely told anyone), Tory just allowed himself to smile.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

~

After another birthday come and gone without seeing his father, seven year old Tory disappeared to his room when he was told it was bedtime. Darryl had sent him a card, and some really neat things from his latest movie set, and a soccer ball, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him. Tory was starting to forget what his dad was really like. Sure, he ‘saw’ him in movie trailers, but he was really starting to forget what he was like as a person.

That was scary.

When he was sure that his mom and Eli were settled watching something on TV, he got out of bed and crossed over to his window, staring up at the skies.

“Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.” He was careful to keep his voice down, because this was the craziest thing he might have done in his whole life.

“I wish Eli was my Dad.”

As if he was summoned, moments later Eli stood in the doorway. Tory turned from the window, unable to tell if Eli had heard him or not.

“I thought you might want to read some more of The Hobbit tonight,” the tall man offered. Nodding, Tory crossed back over to his bed and settled in as Eli got the book from the shelf.

Maybe he’d get the guts to ask him one day if he’d heard him wishing. For now, it was going to be his secret.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#50 – Orlando

The telepath came home every night exhausted for months; it was impossible for Josh not to take notice. Baking delicious treats was no longer sufficient, and Josh set his mind to the task of thinking of a better solution. He owed Sean for his birthday last year, and he wanted to do something special. By combining last year’s lapsed birthday with this year’s birthday and vacation time (before they left with Greg for Europe) provided him with an idea.

He’d double-checked the school break dates and the dates for their trip with Greg, and then he had made all of the arrangements. He’d even helped to pack their bags.

It had led to them being here, in sunny Florida. It had led to them buying Thing One and Thing Two shirts at the hotel because they were undeniably amusing. It had led to them slathering on sunscreen and wearing shorts and comfortable shoes along with those shirts; Sean had sunglasses on, and Josh had the clip-on lenses for his usual glasses.

There were so many families all around and so many children running about so enthralled with the location that it was impossible not to smile. The entire location was filled with cheer, even if there was also a feeling of artificialness and consumerism.

The giant white ball in the background served as a means of navigation. If they got separated somehow, or they decided they wanted to leave early, they need only walk in the direction of the giant ball. But neither Sean nor Josh thought that would be necessary.

Not with what was on the agenda for this afternoon.

“Are you ready?” Josh asked, as they passed a crowd and crossed the bridge into the first designated area.

“I am,” the telepath said, glancing down at the fake passport in his hand. He patted his pocket with his other hand, making sure that he had his wallet with him. He did, and in his wallet was the room key card that also served as a credit/debit card. They were covered. “Are you?”

“Yes.” Josh had his passport ready, and he moved closer to the telepath, wrapping an arm around the taller man’s waist and nudging him. “It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Sean grinned and leaned into the other man’s touch.

They approached the area that was designated as Mexico and walked over to the nearest food dispensary they could find. It was close to the entrance, and it sported a sign advertising the sale of margaritas. Josh grinned as well, and they stepped up, ordered two with sugar around the rim, and paid using the credit card.

Three minutes later, their passports were stamped and they were settled at an outdoor table under an umbrella. They clinked their glasses together and then began to drink.

“We should get some nachos,” Josh suggested after his glass was half-finished.

“I thought we were doing the smorgasbord in Norway.”

“I thought that was filled with princesses and small children.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a chocolate fountain, and you know I like small children.” The telepath shrugged and then took another sip from his glass. “I also heard good things about the Hibachi restaurant in Japan.”

“Then I guess we can wait on the nachos.”

A few minutes later, they’d finished their drinks and rose from the table.

“Onward?” Josh asked, smiling at his partner.

“Of course, we still have ten countries to go.”

[Mia Keystone]

14. Cathartic

The window slid up quietly, and Reeve didn't so much as turn around as two skinny and rather short legs swung over the sill.

"Hey Mia," he said, still concentrating on Brains Comrade.

She couldn't feel what was going on, her powers still pulled tight under her skin, but the screen was comforting. She missed those. She missed the hum and tingle and binary whispers more.

Mia was a small person, but people forgot that because what ever it was that made her her, energy or electronics or some unmeasurable thing had always filled her until it was bursting out of her seems, filling up space and making her big.

It wasn't now. Her eyes and ears had been loped off when she needed them most and organics, no, people, were becoming stranger and stranger.

Reeve wasn't people.

"Busy?" she asked, and sighed when he shook his head.

"You wanna play Gears of War?" he asked, and she winced and shook her head.

"Can't play properly," she muttered and waggled her useless fingers. "Still cut off."

Her fellow technopath nodded, and almost in sympathy (but not that. Reeve didn't get that. It was why she was here) the monitor dimmed and he spun around with one eyebrow raised. "So, what then?" he asked, and there was what might have been his version of confusion in his voice.

Mia shrugged then got up and walked over, and without wasting more time she bent down (not far) and kissed him on the mouth. She registered his slight shock, but then he managed to get up without detaching and put his hands on her narrow hips.

Kissing was formulaic. You waited x seconds before opening, then y before using tongue which would be moving in accordance to z. Logical. Perfectly so. The rest progressed in accordance to the laws of physical arousal. Touch here, then press there, then find the bed.

It was perfectly formulaic. That was good. Mia understood formulas. So did Reeve.

After, she got up and began dressing again. There was no sense of urgency, or of any need to linger. It was just time to go.

"Ah," Reeve propped himself up on his elbows and looked confused, "later, then?"

Mia combed her fingers through her hair and pulled open the window. "Sure," she said before sliding out and closing it behind her.

It had been 5 weeks and 1 day since she'd heard from Jonah, 1 week and 5 days since her powers were suppressed and her electronics had been confiscated.

She was back the next night.

[Reeve Rzeznik]

#131: Emotional[/b]

Breathe in, breathe out. Eat at least twice a day. Manage at least four hours of sleep.

Everything had a formula, even living one's life. And if Reeve understood anything, it was a formula.

He sat at Brains, Comrade quietly, letting the neo-classical stylings of David Garrett wash over him. Reeve had always been a fan of music, but lately, he had depended on it. The more Reeve used his powers, the more he felt his humanity slipping away, as his connection to the world relied more upon the mechanical and the electronic than the natural or emotional. He could still fake it with the best of them, but as the days wore on, the simple task of keeping up a facade was beginning to become more of a chore than it was worth. Instead, Reeve had been spending the last few days on his latest project.

The Hammel Institute was, obviously, full of students. Furthermore, a great deal of those students listened to music, and with students that listen to music, you tend to have an excess amount of speakers. The garbage bin behind the complex could be counted on to have at least one new speaker set each week, usually due to a blown speaker or bad wiring. Most teens lacked the technological know-how to deal with something of that nature, and so opted simply to replace the entire set.

This left a veritable treasure trove for the young tech-meta's enjoyment.

Speakers were an easy thing to fix, and simpler still to enhance, with a little help from the vast expanses of the internet and a few online tutorials. Reeve had been taking extra speakers out of the dumpster for a while, and in the past few days, he'd practically locked himself in his room, alone with nothing but the music and his thoughts to guide him.

His thoughts, lately, seemed to center upon only one event.

It had been no small secret that Reeve had been interested in Mia. A like-minded individual, she did not suffer from Reeve's exact situation, but her similar metahuman ability meant that she, too, tended to prefer the company of machines to man. However, his inability to understand this interest led to an inability to articulate it, and so he was forced to admit, when he withdrew and she stopped hanging out with him, that he had lost his opportunity to explore it.

Was he upset? Not really. As mentioned, emotion was still foreign to him, even negative ones. Logically speaking, he understood exactly how everything had happened. He had become intrigued by her, but failed to understand this intrigue as attraction. This attraction, this human emotion that he had finally reached without any forcing or faking on his part, was not acted upon. Every opportunity comes with a time frame, and Reeve understood that he had not explored this further when he had the chance. It was just a complete failure on his part, one that he did not fully comprehend until it was too late.

And then, one day, she showed up in his room and planted her lips on his.

Kissing was, indeed, formulaic, as are the steps often following. Mia took the lead, and Reeve played along. After she left, Reeve was not content to let this new opportunity go unexplored. When she returned the next night, he felt that, perhaps, this time he could figure it out, and defeat his inability to feel once and for all.

Unfortunately for Reeve, emotion was a two-way street, and the more Mia came over, the more he knew that it wasn't going to be that way, here. He understood her plight, of course. Being cut off from your power would be uncomfortable for any meta, but for someone like Reeve or Mia, whose ability meant they were practically living simultaneously in the physical and the virtual worlds, it would be like being only half a person. He understood that she was simply looking to feel something, as well. Even so, this wasn't what Reeve had wanted. This wasn't emotion, this was... false. It had no bearing, no meaning save for the act. It was like a single chord. Played by itself, it means nothing, only when coupled with other progressing chords can it become true music. Reeve didn't feel bad, since he didn't feel anything, but still, something told him that whatever this was, it was supposed to be considered wrong.

All the same, each night that Mia came over, he was there to greet her. It was better in his mind to play a single chord over and over, than to play nothing at all.

Now, with his project nearly completed, he sat back and admired his handiwork. Speakers, subs, tweeters, every corner of his room had some kind of audio projecting device. This was as true of a surround-sound experience as could be achieved, and Reeve couldn't have finished it faster. The sounds of Pachelbel's "Canon in D" mixed flawlessly with a classical rendition of U2's "With or Without You" as Reeve closed his eyes, allowing the music to enter him, to touch him somewhere he didn't understand and draw out the emotions he knew he was feeling, but still couldn't quite comprehend. Music poured from every inch of the room, a practically bass-free song such as this still nearly shaking the walls.

As the music cross-faded into something a little more bass-heavy, the rattling of the window caused Reeve's gaze to travel to it, spinning around in his chair slowly and opening his eyes. He frowned, as a little sigh escaped his lips, glancing at the nearest digital display of time in his room (he had several.)

It had been 5 days and 1 hour since the last time he'd seen Mia crawl through that window. Reeve had attempted to make music, and only managed a single chord. Now that it, too, had gone sour, he had submitted himself to simply listening.

[Lani Hunter]

132. Spiritual

This was certainly different. Lani wasn’t completely sure if he liked it or not. The accident was so fast he hadn’t even had time to prepare himself. One moment he was sitting in the driver’s seat and the next he was floating above the wreck.

Tragic.

Lani figured there must be something wrong with him because he couldn’t bring himself to mourn for his lost body.

Either way that was long gone. Time passed strangely in this state. One moment he was dead and the next moment he was standing in his parent’s living room. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten there. Caroline looked older. It was frustrating not to remember. He held a hand out to Caroline as she passed… well rather she walked right through him.

For a disorienting moment Lani wasn’t sure if he was Lani or if he was Caroline but then the moment passed and he was himself again. He slouched and kicked his feet into the air and followed her. He passed a mirror and a chill ran through his ghostly form as he didn’t appear inside it.

She opened the door and a young man entered. Lani’s eyes narrowed. He looked sleazy, black hair that was spiked a little and a leather jacket covered his shoulders. Their parents were home, Caroline should know better than to have someone around.

Time became fuzzy again and Lani was sitting cross legged in the air rolling his eyes and refusing to look down at the make-out session going on beneath him. This time thing was really getting annoying. He didn’t even know how long he’d been dead. The calendar said years but it had felt like hours or maybe even minutes. He’d have to go haunt Odion until he figured it out.

A noise of anger rose to his ears and he dared a glance down. The man was over top of his sister and she didn’t like it. He covered her mouth with his hand and started pawing around.

Lani’s rage boiled over. No one was going to hurt his sister! What could he do? He struck the man but his hands went straight through. Lani grabbed the couch and shook it. It moved. Lani grinned, well if he was in fact simply a mind or spirit then it did hold that his power still worked. His hands might pass through it but his power didn’t.

A smirk played on Lani’s lips and he grabbed coasters and pictures and sent them flying. The couch bucked like a stallion and both teenagers were dumped off. The man went running for the door and Lani opened it for him.

He slowly placed everything back to where it was supposed to be and turned to Caroline. She looked terrified. The phone rang making both of them jump. Caroline rushed to it. “Mom? You’ll never believe what happened…”

To say Lani wasn’t doing it for fun would be a lie. He rearranged things in the night driving his father insane and having his mother thinking she was just being more forgetful that usual. He would drift in and out in the strange time lapse he was in.

It was one night when a would be arson crept into the house intent with starting fires all over the city that Lani went too far. His mind was far from restful and if anything the time was detaching him. He knew he wanted to protect but beyond that he couldn’t remember what else defined him. It was almost as if he were dying all over again, but one piece at a time.

The man started to pour out the liquid and Lani diverted it and it spilled on the man’s legs. The man cursed softly and stopped pouring but he was threatening Lani’s family and he wasn’t about to let him get away with it that easily.

Rage built in Lani’s nonphysical heart and he wanted to make that man pay. This was his family he was not going to hurt them!

Lani jerked the container out of his hands and floated it through the air. Lani grabbed the man’s matches and watched as the man’s eyes widened in horror. Lani struck it and hung the match in front of him for a while before dropping it.

The man let out a shriek awakening the household. The flames caught the liquid on his pants and it sprung to life. Perhaps if Lani could still feel and touch he might have had a feeling of remorse but the time had done strange things to him.

He felt a strong sense to protect and anger at the man. As the man screamed his father and mother came racing down the steps his mother running right through him. His cold eyes fell upon the man and he was sure the man could see him.

He turned away in disgust, not for what he had done, but for the man who had tried to hurt his family.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them sunlight was streaming in and a woman was being greeted and welcomed into the home. “I can certainly feel the presence of a strong spirit in here.”

Lani huffed and looked at his mother surprised to see that they both had wrinkles and graying hair. Caroline looked older than when he had last seen her. How long had it been?

The woman lit a candle and had them sit in a half circle. Lani raised his brow and his protective instincts were struck up. But he wasn’t sure why, so he remained still.

“I call upon the spirit in this household…” The woman said closing her eyes. Lani chuckled, he had been a meta and as far as he knew no meta had been psychic like this woman was pretending to be.

His laugh turned into a yelp as his floating form was grabbed and he plunged earthward. He hit the floor his feet landing without sound and a frown setting his face. He looked around and noted the surprise on the woman’s face. Apparently she also thought she was just a crackpot.

His sister, father and mother noted the reaction on the woman’s face but didn’t seem to see him. The woman coughed and regained her composure. “I see a young man, 18?”

“20,” Lani corrected.

“20,” she said, “With blond hair.”

“Lani?” Caroline asked sitting up a little straighter.

“Don’t be silly…” his father said giving his sister a stern look.

“Tell her it’s me.” Lani said.

“He’s trying to say something but I can’t make it out.” The woman have him a harsh glare.

Lani growled and rocked the picture frame of himself and Caroline when they had both had shaved heads. He looked down at the mortals sitting at his feet and he found himself unmoved by their fright.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, “He’s gone. I’m going to ask you to leave and maybe I can summon him and the less commotion around I’ll be able to hear him better.”

Caroline huffed and his parents helped her up and they went into the next room.

“Well that was quite a charming display,” the woman said rolling up her sleeves and getting to her feet.

“Why didn’t you tell them who I was?” Lani demanded.

She sat down on the couch and motioned for him to sit next to her. “Listen to me, you’re dead. You need to move on. You’re already just a shadow of who you were.”

“How do you know who I was?” Lani snarled preferring to remain standing. “I have to protect her!”

The woman nodded. “By lighting people on fire? As far as I know that’s not how the old Lani would have done things.”

Lani gaped at her and shook his head. She patted the seat next to herself and Lani reluctantly went and sat next to her. She reached out her hand and placed it on his cheek. He jerked back surprised that the hand didn’t pass through him. He touched his cheek and frowned. It was so unfamiliar, so strange. She touched him! He hadn’t felt anything in such a long time.

“You don’t remember me do you?” She asked her warm brown eyes familiar.

Lani drew back. “How did you…”

“I can borrow powers, remember?” She said with a smile.

Lani shook his head and gaped at her. “Get out. I need to protect them.”

“No,” she crossed her arms. “You get out.”

“What? Don’t tell me to leave my own house.”

“You don’t belong here. Get out.”

Lani lifted the couch and dropped it. She covered her head with her arms and looked at him with fear in her eyes. His cold eyes narrowed as he was unmoved by her fear. He didn’t even remember a time when at that look he would have rushed to her side to comfort her.

“You know,” she said. “When you died, I kept wishing there was a way for you to come back. Now I see my wish was answered. But you’re no longer Lani.”

“I am so,” he protested.

“Are you? Think about it. Do you remember being alive? Do you remember this?” She leaned forward and planted her lips against his. A rush of dead emotions surged through him and he pushed her away moving to the opposite side of the room without even thinking about it.

“Leave me and my family alone!” He roared.

She tapped her chin with her finger. “You know I see it now. You’re not even really Lani. If you were you’d never be so cold, so calculating. So void of emotion. Did you make a promise to someone?”

“Caroline, I promised to protect her.” Lani answered without pause.

“Do you see me as a threat?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “So when I leave this house you’ll forget about me and you’ll disappear for a while, years maybe. Until Caroline needs protection again. Then you’ll be here like the hero you were. Do you remember what happened when you died?”

“Not really,” Lani admitted, “It’s all fuzzy, everything is fuzzy.”

“You were on your way home because someone was bothering Caroline. You were going to teach them a lesson. You told me you were going to scare them away but you promised not to hurt them.” She said, “It was raining and the car hit you so fast that your power didn’t even react.”

Memories rushed back and Lani felt the anger, the desire… no, the need to protect his sister. He had failed back when she got sick and he would never fail again.

“Well,” she continued, “You did your job. Now it’s time to leave.”

“But…”

“She can stand on her own two feet now. She doesn’t need you anymore.” She paused, “I don’t need you anymore.”

Lani’s vision swirled and the woman’s face shifted and melted with Caroline’s. A mind pounding double vision assaulted him as he saw two faces in one. He looked around and realized that his family was still sitting in the room and this was reality.

They were afraid of him, his delusion of grandeur and desire to protect his family had driven him to lose all he had loved. He panted realizing he was terrified. What did they think of him? He had really hurt someone. The emotions that came over him were so familiar that for a moment in the mirror he saw two of himself.

The one had dark eyes and a hateful hard exterior, the other had a warm open expression. He and the other Lani merged and he felt full again. He felt all of the love and all of the memories raced back into him.

Caroline rose from her spot next to the woman and reached out to him. Her eyes were open and full of love. “Oh brother, who would have thought that I would have a chance to save you?”

A tear fell from his eye and he took her hand surprised that it didn’t pass through. “I…I’m sorry… can… I…” It was becoming hard to speak.

“I know.” She looked into his eyes. “You are forgiven.” With that she pressed her lips against his forehead like he used to do so long ago. Warmth filled him and he felt as if he were floating, flying. He spread his wings and he flew.

[Jonah King]

#26 – New

The first time Jonah King kissed a girl, he was thirteen.

It was before the telepathy, before Hammel, before anything – back when he was just a normal kid with a crush on the girl who he played soccer with at their youth group on Saturdays. Neither of them had really known what they were supposed to do, but they’d found themselves alone in the sunshine one afternoon and it had sort of just…happened. He was nervous and clumsy and she was eager and they both moved in too fast: his mouth had felt a little bruised for the rest of the day, but he hadn’t stopped smiling for weeks.

Every holiday, when he had to be at home instead of at Hammel, he would go to a deaf youth club. He’d spent summers and winters there, seen Christmases pass with people who’d almost become a surrogate family. Jonah told them stories of the Secret Missions, kept them entertained with tales of all the strange goings-on at a school for meta-humans. He was the joker, the story-teller, the articulate one. He was popular.

He missed Mia, though. She was the only thing the holidays didn’t have.

The second time he kissed a girl, he was sixteen and at home for Easter. The evenings were chilly, but they all – there were about ten of them, teenagers with nothing else do to – spent their evenings outside, on the town square steps or under the roof of the parking lot.

Jonah had never met Ellie before, but he noticed her at once: a petite brunette with dark blue eyes. She smiled at him in a way that made him think she wouldn’t mind if he kissed her, so when her thoughts were slow and muffled from alcohol and he was feeling relaxed and confident, he let her wrap herself around him.

He’d known for a long time that physical contact made blocking impossible, but in some small, abstract corner of his mind Jonah had always assumed that kissing would be exempt. It couldn’t be denied him, could it? Not something like that?

It was like being thrown against a wall.

When she’d stepped away, her face was a mask of hurt and confusion. [What’s wrong?] Did he look as stricken as he felt? [Are you OK?]

[I’m fine.] He waved her off. [Sorry. Just …] Everyone knew what he was, but they didn’t ever mention it. That was the unspoken rule. Jonah was red from shame and frustration, he shook his head and started to walk backwards, signing quickly before he turned and broke into a run: [Just…me. Sorry.]

He’d run for hours, trying to make the silence come back. In the morning, nobody at the breakfast table commented on the shadows under his eyes.

Seventeen, and he tried again. It was New Years Eve and the music was so loud he could feel it. Everyone else was drunk, apart from Cara (milky-coffee skin, grey eyes, and did he pick her because she didn’t look anything like her?) – they were the only sober ones in the room, and they found each other during the countdown with awkward smiles.

Maybe he was better at this than he thought he was, or maybe she just didn’t notice. But when she pulled away she was still smiling, and when she nodded towards the exit Jonah followed her out into the frosty air. It was cold, but she was warm, and the skin of her back was almost unbearably soft as he slid his hands under her top, her thoughts ringing in his ears and buzzing through his mind. And it felt good, everything felt good, but the noise wouldn’t stop and Jonah was losing his hold on himself, losing his footing and drowning and struggling to breathe…

The worst thing had been the way she looked at him before she went back inside.

For a year and a half, he’d been too scared to try again. To try anything again. He’d ignored girls, ignored anyone who could interest him in that way. He didn’t want to make that mistake again, so he’d played it safe – or what he thought was safe. Teachers had started to worry about him, started to mention that maybe he didn’t have to spend all his time with one person. But no matter how often they floated words like ‘co-dependent’ and ‘unhealthy’, Jonah had never been able to tear his eyes away from her.

Because, when he was nineteen, it was Mia.

And sometimes, when it was dark and quiet and he was sure she couldn’t hear what he was thinking, Jonah let himself wonder:

Maybe it always had been.

[Brendan James]

89. Invitation

Little by little, Brendan had been building a stage in the apartment. Not an actual grand stage mind you. But something small that could hold up no more than a few people at a time and would be easy enough to get rid of once they had no more use for it. It was pushed up against one of the smaller walls in the living room, because Brendan had a picture in mind for how exactly he wanted this to look and he’d be damned if it wasn’t going to be perfect.

Unfortunately, building it there in the apartment had left the room quite the disaster area. Which made him just a tad uncomfortable. A little clutter was fine. But this? Ugh… The furniture had to be moved around and pushed aside while he worked on it and pieces of wood and nails and tools had been lying around. In his opinion though, it was definitely worth it. Because even though Vin had dropped out of high school and therefore wasn’t actually graduating, there were few greater experiences in life than a graduation. And he didn’t want his boyfriend to miss out on that.

But the stage was done now. And he’d cleaned up all the tools and nails and wood that had been lying around too. So it wasn’t nearly the disaster is had been. The only things that needed to be done now was to get the living room furniture out of the apartment and picking up about twenty folding chairs. Oh! And he most certainly couldn’t forget the podium either. Thankfully, Eugene had chairs and a podium at the theater that he was willing to let Bren borrow.

When Fifi had emerged from her room, Brendan and Sam 2.0 were sitting at the breakfast table, talking about the things that still needed to be done. On top of the other things, everybody still needed to shower and get dressed, because Bren was insisting that they all dress nicely as if it were a real graduation. It was still early though. So the ex-art teacher was confident it would all get done.

“Is the stage finished? Are you sure it’ll hold Vin and I? I’ll be pissed if it’s shitty craftsmanship Bren.” As she walked towards the kitchen, she was eyeing the stage. “Yeeees Fifi. I’ve been doing this for years, ok? Just relax.” Brendan assured her for what must have been the millionth time.

The eleven year old was smiling at Fifi as she joined them at the table. “I’m gonna go with Bren and help him get the chairs and stand from the theater.” Smiling at the boy, he liked that he wanted so badly to go with him to where he worked. And one day he would, but not today unfortunately. “Sorry Sam 2.0. You gotta stay here. You have the most important job today. You have to keep Vin in his room and busy so he doesn’t come out to see anything. I want you to tackle him even if he gets close to his door! Think you can do that?”

He looked slightly bummed at not going to the theater, but spending the entire day in Vin’s room, horsing around and playing video games was enough to cheer him up. “Got it!” After taking a sip of his orange juice, he turned to Fifi. “Have you written your speech?” Waiting until after she finished chewing her food, she nodded as she spoke. “Yeah, it’s good to go.” He eyed her suspiciously for a moment. “Fifi… I want this to be perfect for him. Just like a real graduation. So please, nothing about his conquests or lewdness.” With a heavy sigh, the younger girl rolled her eyes. “I knooooow.”

With a smile, he thanked her again for taking on the task. He gave her a few other details about the day. Like, that his father would be coming to take away the furniture and stash it at their home. Which had been difficult to arrange. He’d told his father that an ex student had dropped out of school and that they were doing this for him. But he’d neglected still to tell his dad what exactly their relationship was. Though, he thought his father probably knew or at least suspected. What kind of person did this for a kid who used to be only a student? His dad wasn’t stupid.

After he finished his breakfast, Brendan stood up clearing his place. “So who all is coming to this thing?” Fifi asked. Placing his dishes in the sink, he said, “Lets see… Dr. Neville, James and Chase Campbell, Morgan Tonaya, Eli Morrison, Midori Hawkins, Josh Bernstein, Janice Adams, Sam, his girl Spencer, Robbie, Dani, Evan, and Levi. And the three of us of course. Did I show the invites? They’re pretty badass if you ask me.” He said as he handed her an extra invite he had laying around.

“Who knew so many people wanted to see Vin out of Hammel?” She said as she looked at the invite in her hands. Chuckling, Brendan nodded. “Yeah… That’s why I went with the Chiller font. They’re probably all afraid it’s gonna turn out to be a nightmare where he comes back.” After a few more chuckles at the expense of Vin, Bren headed out on his way. Not until after he sent Sam 2.0 into Vin’s room to dive onto and bounce on the bed, waking Vincent up. And just as Bren was closing the door to leave the apartment, he could hear his boyfriend swearing. At Brendan of course, because there was no doubt in his mind that the kid had ratted him out saying he’d been the one to send him in there.


By the time early afternoon rolled around, Brendan was only just getting back from picking up the things needed from the theater, some flowers, and a special surprise for Vin. Yes, even though Vincent wasn’t a girl, he was still getting flowers. Everybody got flowers on their graduation day. It was like… A law or something.

What he hadn’t been counting on was that his dad would still be at the apartment. He’d been hoping to avoid him, just for today, positive that his dad was sure to know what exactly was going on. Though, Brendan supposed it was time his father knew. So grabbing only the flowers from the car, the ex-teacher made his way to the building. But his dad was slowly and carefully making his way down the stairs with an armchair that had already been stripped of its cushions.

When Bren offered his help, Tim gave a simple and gruff, “I don’t need it.” Yep, he knew all right. Which made the younger man feel awful, his dad knew he’d lied to him. But at the same time, even though his dad knew, he was still helping. Which made him think things would eventually be ok. “Look dad, I’m sorry.”

After setting the chair on the ground, Tim looked exasperated at his son. “Don’t give me that shit. You lied to me. You lied to my face. You said a student had nothing to do with why you aren’t a teacher anymore.” Brendan’s eyes immediately fell to the ground. “Well… Actually… I told you a female student had nothing to do with it.” He knew that wouldn’t give do anything but anger his father even more. But it’s Brendan; everybody knows he has no self-control.

Tim angrily grabbed the chair and hauled it over to the truck, Bren following him like a sad puppy whose owner was angry at it for having made a mess on the carpet. They stood in the parking lot, talking about what exactly was going for another thirty minutes. It mostly consisted of Tim telling Bren that he was upset that he’d been lied to, not that he was upset about that fact that Vin was a guy. And upset that he was a student (or used to be), but at least he’d been of age.

When his father left, Brendan felt suddenly tired. But there were still things to be done! So up the stairs with the flowers he went. Bursting through the door, he hollered “Fifi! I need your help! Come on!” He laid the flowers in the kitchen sink for the time being. And with the girl’s help, all of the chairs and podium were brought in. Along with Vin’s special surprise that was contained in a garment bag long enough for a dress. And he wouldn’t tell Fifi open it either. “Come on. I’m gonna see it soon enough anyway.” But Brendan wanted Vin to be the first to see it, so shaking his head he told her ‘No’ once again.

He took a few minutes to set up the chairs, five rows of four, with a bit of space up the middle to navigate. With Fifi’s help he also set a large white sheet over the stage he’d built. He would’ve liked to have it painted, but time didn’t allow him. But tucking the sheet tight around and under managed to make it look a little nicer. Then they set the podium in the front middle of the elevated ground. And it looked complete. Brendan couldn’t possibly have been more satisfied with how things looked. “I also stopped and got a few streamers. Or do you think that’d be took much?” Looking at the older man, Fifi simply said, “I think the stage and the chairs and podium are too much. Streamers are the only acceptable part of this.” With a smile, Brendan dug through his briefcase, that he used like women use a purse, and pulled out a few rolls of streamers, and tossed one to Fifi while placing the rest on the kitchen counter. “Well then, lets finish this!”

While the apartment was being transformed, Vin and Sam 2.0 were still in his room. Having been awakened in a less than pleasant way, yes an eleven-year-old DIVING head first into your stomach was less than pleasant, Vincent had been a little grumpy. Had though. Fifi had brought him some food in an attempt to keep him out of the living room. And the rest of the day had been spent goofing off with the little boy. Playing videos games, using the things in his room to build a little pillow fort, and using fake swords to have a very intense fight to the death over who would be able to claim the fort as their own. And since Vin lacked the knowledge that allowing a child to win a battle like that was good for their self-esteem and ego, the fort was now Vin’s. But he was getting restless and whining. “I WANNA SEEEE!” He said as he flailed his body on the bed. “Brendan made me promise to tackle you if you even got too close to the door.” Sitting up quickly, Vincent frowned. “Tha bastard!” After having made the young boy giggle, Vin moved on to bribing. “’ome on!… ‘ll give ya’ choclate! Lots a it!”

Before Sam 2.0 could answer, Brendan hollered from the living room. “Oooooh Viiiiin! Come out come out wherever you are!” And Sam quickly added, “Deal!” with a smile on his face. Jumping off of the bed and lunging out the door, Vin laughed at the boy’s humor. “Too late! Ya’ stalled!”

Stepping into the living room, Vin’s eyed bugged from his head. The furniture was gone. Even the tv and the stand it’d been on. In it’s place was the small stage he’d seen his boyfriend working on. And chairs, quite a few folding chairs. And as if that weren’t enough, red and black streamers were all over the place. “Holy shit!” He called around, with a big smile on his face. “Holy fuckin’ shit!” He said with a giggle. “Vin. Come on now.” Brendan chastised him, while he eyed the young boy in the room. “Ain’t nothin’ he ain’t heard ‘fore.” With a smile, Brendan let it go. He was too excited to be watching Vin’s reaction.

“Oh wait! There’s one more thing!” Ducking into Fifi’s room for a minute, he came back out, holding the garment bag. “Here.” Brendan said with a smile as he handed it to Vin. “Ya’ got me a dress? Babe, I ain’t you, I don’ do drag.” Rolling his eyes, Bren shook his head. “Just open it.” Vin unzipped the bag while he held it up. Pulling it out, he looked at it perplexed. “It is a dress! Wha’ da hell?” Yes, Bren facepalmed at his boyfriend. “It’s a cap and gown you dingus. You get to wear it during the ceremony. Like everybody else wears during their graduation.”

Vincent smiled at the older man and threw his arms around him, one hand still holding onto the bag. “Ya’ de mos’ awesome person eva!” And that was exactly why Brendan had done all of this for his boyfriend. Brendan had wanted to make him happy. And didn’t want him to miss out on anything. “I’m glad you like it darling.” Bren said with a small smile forming on his lips and hugging his boyfriend close. “Imma go put ‘t on now!” He said, dropping his arms from the one who’d put the event together, with A LOT of help from others, and ran back to the bedroom.

Laughing, Bren called after him. “Shower first! And get dressed! We need you to be ready by the time everybody gets here!”


Brendan was looking in the mirror in the bedroom as he straightened his tie, giggling quietly at the reflection of Vincent struggling to tame his own tie. “If you keep that up, you’re going to strangle yourself and then all of this will have been nothing.”

Throwing his hands down to his sides, Vin pouted. “I GIVE UP!” The whine in his voice only made his boyfriend giggle more. “Why I gotta wear a ‘is an’way? Imma be wearin’ de dress, ain’t nobody gonna seeeeee.” After he finished straightening his own tie, Bren turned towards Vin, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning the boy to face him. “Because, afterwards, we’re going out to have a nice dinner. And besides, this is what people wear to graduations. I’ve already made sure the others will be dressed accordingly too.” His hands took ahold of the younger man’s tie and began working on it. “Poor thing… You almost destroyed it.” A smirk sat on Vin’s lips. “Yeah, ‘eerbody else migh’ dress like dis, but I woulda been naked if only ya’ let me.”

Shaking his head, Bren couldn’t help but smile. “Vin. James Bond wore a suit. Everywhere. All right? So just relax.” With a heavy sigh, Vincent stood still as his boyfriend tied the tie he’d been so helplessly struggling with. “Plus… Look at yourself… You look hot in a suit.” As he said that, Brendan turned the boy again so he could face himself in front of the mirror. “See? You put James Bond to shame.” Smiling at his reflection, which wasn’t unusual at all, Vin gave himself a once over. “Bitch… I put you ta shame!” Laughing, Brendan nodded in agreement. “That’s a fair assessment.”


Finally, everybody was there. The first to have arrived was Vin’s best friend Sam along with his girlfriend, Spencer. Both had dressed to Brendan’s request, nicely. As had everybody else. And while everybody mingled in the living room, Vincent stayed in his room, putting on the cap and gown he’d received earlier. He would’ve come out of the room earlier, but he became slightly distracted by the tassel on his cap, batting it back and forth like a cat might.

When he finally did emerge, making a fashionably late entrance, everybody looked to the person they’d all gathered to celebrate… Well leaving Hammel. Since he wasn’t actually graduating, that’s all it could be described as. It wasn’t too much of a wonder why multiple staff members had come to celebrate the occasion too.

After exchanging hellos and thank you-s for coming, everybody took their seats, except for Fifi, who hesitantly stepped onto the stage and up to the podium.

Sitting next to each other in the front row, Brendan and Vincent both wondered if Fifi was nervous. Sure, when it was just the three of them at the apartment, the young girl quite often had their undivided attention while their antics took place. But when the three were out in public… Well the behavior of the two ‘men’ often became like a competition of who could get the most attention that nobody ever actually won. So it was tad unusual to see the girl with everybody’s eyes on her.

“Thank you all for coming today. We’re here to honor a man that we all care for, Vincent Verax. There are many things that can be said about him. Not all of which are appropriate to be said in present company seeing as many of you are teachers and one of you very young.” She said with a smile as she eyed Sam 2.0 “That considered, I’ll move on to the more appropriate and kind words.”

“I’ve known Vincent for several years. He might not be the most responsible person and we all know his personality is what we would describe as obnoxious or loud or ridiculous for others, but that’s just Vincent’s general behavior. Despite all that, we’re all still here today. Why would we gather here to celebrate somebody like that?” At that moment, everybody was wondering why’d she’d been chosen to speak. Except for Vin, who was sitting in the very front row of seats, smiling at her like a fool.

After a short pause, she continued. “Because Vin is fierce. He’s a force to be reckoned with. Even on the worst of days, a little dose of this man will bring the brightest of smiles to your face. Anybody would be lucky to be able to call him a friend. And those he calls friend, are guaranteed a loyal companion for life, somebody who would never turn their back on you.”

“Author Charles Alexander Eastman said ‘Friendship is held to be the severest test of character.’ It’s that reason that people are drawn to Vincent. His friends will never know a loyalty greater than his. No matter what could possibly be going wrong in your life, he’ll be there, as quickly as he can, offering a shoulder to cry on and a good time to be had.”

“And while some of things he does might be seen as foolish, reckless, and often dangerous, I think it speaks more to his bravery. He’s unafraid of getting hurt, for good reason.” She added with a smile. “And to the fact that the opinions of others don’t matter to him.” Taking a moment to look at Vin, she smiled. “We should all be so lucky to be as brave as he is.”

“Or to be as confident as he is.” With a little chuckle, she shook her head. “Never before have I met somebody so sure of his own good looks that he constantly informs people of them.”

Looking to the others of the audience, Fifi smiled. “I think we can all agree, that our lives are better for having known Vincent. If nothing else, he’s taught us, and teaches us again everyday, patience.”

“I think we can all be in agreement that these traits are enough reason to honor Vin today, with a ceremony that often signifies the first step into adulthood. So, with that said… Vincent Verax, will you please step forward and accept your diploma.”

Smiling more than he had all day, Vin jumped up from his seat and onto the stage. His dear friend held out a rolled up piece of paper that was tied with a red bow. Instead of taking it from her though, he flung his arms around the girl and hugged her close. Her words meant more to him than he would ever be able to say. And while emotions were never really his strong suit, he knew that Fifi would always have a part of his heart.

After hugging the girl closer for a moment, he let her go, took a hold of his ‘diploma’, and looked out at everybody with a big smile.

[Kane Woonren]

37. Injury[/b]

This incident is canon.

The sun was just beginning to set over the city, just enough to flood the small apartment with light. It was a Saturday, and he'd barely moved since that morning. He'd ignored every hunger pain, crack of his legs or every itch of his wings. The only times he had actually managed to get himself to stand up was when he had to go to the bathroom. No matter what kind of a mood he was in, he wouldn't just wet the bed or something like that. There'd been one call that day, he'd let the machine get it and listened to the message, just a telemarketer asking him to get back to her.

For now, Kane was sitting in his bed, running one of his fingers delicately over his arm and chest, feeling the bumps that were his numerous scars. Most of them were from when he was a kid, getting used to his "claws." But "slightly elongated and sharpened bones" didn't exactly roll off the tongue. A part of him wished he had something else to call them. Claws just made him sound... like some kind of monster or something. He was used to that kind of thing though. If he thought of all the names he'd been called over the years... well, there were a lot of them. Dragon, Demon, Monster, Mutant, Freak, Abomination, Criminal, Murderer... the list could go on for quite a while. The light in the room was beginning to fade as the sun started to dip down below the horizon.

He remembered he'd been in a restaurant once... he was fairly sure he'd been interviewing for a job he hadn't gotten at the time, and they'd had one of those shows on like Dr. Phil or something like like that. They'd said, "Not every injury is one you could see." He was a bit of a testament to that. For every scar that cluttered his arms and torso, there was another across his psyche. One for every terrified face. One for every shout of terror. One for every look of disgust. He shut his eyes, images flashing through his brain. A little girl looking at his wings with terror before she ran back to her mother. A man pushing his children back into his house as he shouted at him, calling him a freak and a monster.

More flashed through his face, going faster as it went through them. Most of them terrified people as he gripped his pillow, folding it around his ears. It didn't stop anything though. The images and the faces flashed through his head, and he was so focused on trying to block them out that he didn't notice, or maybe he just didn't care, the ripping sounds that his pillow was making. After a while he stopped fighting, letting the images and feelings that he'd been fighting against all day finally overwhelm him. The 7'4" man curled up into a tight ball, his wings wrapping around him and his tail doing the same.

He was 14 again, running down the hallway of the school. His back was screaming with pain and the other students were looking at him strange as he collapsed. They looked at him, some with fear others with worry, some of which turned to revulsion as his wings painfully tore from his back. His wings tingled with unnoticed pain as his 14 year old self screamed, his eyes begging for someone to help him, help that didn't manage to arrive until after he had passed out and was dragged down to the infirmary with the tattered remains of his shirt.

Time lurched forward, he was back in New York, one of the few times he'd let his wings out. They were wrapped around him like a protective blanket, and his tail twitched behind him, having been too uncomfortable when combined with the freezing cold as he made his way back to his apartment from work. He stopped for a moment, fighting against the wind, not noticing as a priest stepped out from the church nearby. He shouted something Kane couldn't hear over the roar of the wind, which forced his wings open, then he noticed him. The look of concern that had been on his face now replaced with one of terror. He held up his cross and shouted the words "Away Demon" over and over again....

Now he was sitting in some room... he couldn't make out where... if it was even real... a crime show about John was flashing on a screen in front of him, and people appeared around him, sitting like they were seated at tables. They whispered loud enough for him to hear them. "Murderer," some whispered.

"Pedophile."

"Nightmare."

"Demon."

"Monster."

He clutched his head, not wanting to think about it. He didn't want to listen anymore, they weren't true... but maybe they were....

He woke up, the sun having long since gone down, his alarm clock blinking at 1:37 am. Blood rolled down his arms as he clenched his fist too tightly, tears following a similar path down his face. He stayed there for a time, breathing slowly before he got up and went to the kitchen, starting to cover the wounds and taking steps to avoid more scars. After he was done, he pulled a pair of bottles of beer out of the fridge and went back to his bed.