Whole or in Pieces [Stewarts]

[Tomer Berelowitz]

If there was a day when no other part of Tomer's body past his feet touched the stairs, it was a red letter day. Literally. He put a big red X on his calendar. So far there was one. And that was because a teacher had caught him the second before his brain matter would've decorated the bannister wall holding the railings.

He'd been having a bad day in general. Waking up barely able to move meant he'd been restless during sleep, and Zeb had had to help him outside to release the stored energy. In his wheelchair. Any day that started with a trip in the chair was automatically rotten. And then he'd spilled his milk at breakfast, all over the math homework he was finishing, and by the time it was mopped up the pencil was so faint Tomer didn't know if the teacher would be able to see it. His shoes came untied. At least three kids told him to 'move it' in the halls during passing, as if he weren't going as fast as he could. They ran out of chocolate pudding cups at lunch just a few kids before his turn. And finally, he missed three words on his spelling test and dropped his pencil twice.

Definitely first world problems, but still things that made him cranky. If Uncle Josh was a Disney Princess, Tomer was the Disney Luckless Male Sidekick. So by the time classes were over, if he stuffed his books into his backpack a little harder than usual he certainly had cause. Tomer was tired, out of sorts, and his arms and middle back ached. He waited in his seat like he usually did for most of the other kids to rush out before he left, and then made his slow way out the door.

Near the stairs he thought he'd forgotten to pick up the make up spelling words and opened his bag to check. He lodged himself against the far wall near one of the staircases and rummaged through his pack, bag slung over his shoulder but on his front as he searched.

A scuffle broke out between a pair of boys in the hallway; Tomer ignored it. But one of the boys was shoved right into him. His crutches clattered to the floor and Tomer slid against the smooth wall and pinched his fingers when he tried to catch the railing. The failed attempted to catch himself just twisted his body into a perfect stage-dive position, books and papers flying.

Seriously, what was his life even.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins were used to seeing the clumsy kid in the braces around a lot. That was no surprise. The twins were stereotypical lurkers. They lingered on the borders of things, never really getting involved, always pondering what would happen without ever having any interest in trying it themselves. As a result, they tended to observe a lot of people. And a lot of nonsense, but they wouldn’t have considered the kid with the braces nonsense. Orion was fairly sure he was related in some way to Dr. Neville, but he’d never been able to prove it to Naomi, so the twins were still in disagreement on that.

They were both leaning against the wall, craving a cigarette and pretty sure they had gone through all the packs they’d hidden on campus, and debating the merits of skipping classes—Orion thought no, as always, and Naomi was doing her best to sway them in the other direction.

However, it was Orion who was winning when both heads went swiveling at the sound of a disturbance. A scuffle. The twins were generally inclined to ignore those unless a security person or a teacher came walking by, in which case they tended to flee because the last thing they needed was to get into more trouble than they tended to be in already.

But this time, Orion noticed when one of the boys knocked away the crutch of the guy with the braces, and for once, the twins moved in sync. Orion caught Tomer before he could hit the ground, while Naomi strode over and pushed the two fighting boys with the firmness of a Gestalt.

”Knock it off,” she told both of them. ”And scram.”

The two did so, and then Naomi helped Orion carefully put the boy on his feet.

”You all right?” Naomi asked. ”That looked—”

”Painful.” Orion finished that as he bent down to pick up the books and the crutches. ”This is a lot of stuff."

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"OOOF." It was more a violent exhalation than an actual word, but the sentiment was the same. With his middle (and most of the rest of him) encased in plastic, most hits to the chest were the same as getting the wind knocked out of him. So when he was caught, as much as he wanted to pour out his gratitude, Tomer first had to breathe. He heard more than saw the boys get the business as he tried to rearrange his limbs into working order, which was occasionally a taller order than was entirely fair.

He had noticed the pair before they met, but didn't know their names, just that they were always together. He thought maybe they were boyfriend/girlfriend, but hadn't wasted too much time on it. Tomer also knew there were gestalts at the school but didn't know too much about it. What were the odds he'd meet any?

Well then.

Pink across his cheeks and at the tips of his ears as they helped get everything untangled and upright (Tomer sometimes felt like an action figure when this happened, even though the braces severely limited exactly how far things twisted or turned or bent), he felt much better once he had his crutches in his hands again. His shirt had ridden up to expose a length of cream-tan-person-colored back brace, and no doubt the older boy had felt them when he'd caught him.

Blinking a little at how they spoke, Tomer had read enough of the right books that he wasn't fazed and rolled right along with it, though it made the question of who to address a little difficult. The boyfriend/girlfriend assumption was probably wrong, but now he thought they were maybe twins. Connected somehow. The kid knocking into him and the subsequent banging around and catch had filled Tomer up a little further than he was used to being at this point in the day, though it wasn't so bad that he thought he ought to go outside and release. But he could feel the numbness in his legs and middle that meant he was going to have to work harder at moving.

Once he had breath enough to speak, he immediately said, "Thank you! Thank you so much." He made sure to look at both of them, even though he was still embarrassed. The two of them were getting all his stuff off the floor too, he wished he could help, but just standing upright was hard enough right now. "Uh. Yes. Sorry."

Tomer used his bookbag instead of a locker. He wasn't fast enough to get there and back to each class, but it meant by the end of the day he was toting around a lot of stuff. Besides his school stuff there was also a water bottle, a keyring of flash drives, and whatever book he read during lunch. Some of the notebooks had landed open, showing the organized, color-coded notes, and all the papers showed Tomer's tidy handwriting. When his bag was handed to him, he slung it over his shoulder the way it had been, the bag in front rather than behind, and tucked things away. In the front pocket, his cellphone and ipod were safe and his writing utensils rattled.

"Um, thanks again. I really appreciate it. I'm Tomer."

What a time to not have any thank-you-cookies on him.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins were pretty used to having to adjust to moving weirdly. After all, they were gradually becoming two bodies being governed by one mind. Who wouldn’t get used to weird stuff? Besides, powers could do strange things to bodies. They weren’t particularly inclined to judge. Orion’s brows did climb as he noticed the brace, and Naomi spun around to catch a glimpse as well—it was easier to process when they were looking at the same thing, after all. But neither of them commented. After all, they tended off trading places when they spoke. Who were they to judge on what somebody was wearing? It did look painful, though.

But he was blushing, and it reminded the twins of the younger siblings they vaguely remembered having, so both of them said nothing. That might’ve changed had Tomer spoken his theory about the two being boyfriend-girlfriend. Because, um, ew.

”Don’t worry about it,” Orion said with a shrug. There really was a lot of stuff, and he caught the quite query from Naomi wondering if he needed help, but shook his head. The kid didn’t look all that stable, and besides, he could carry it (yet another plus of the whole Gestalt thing). The only problem was figuring how to balance it all. The boy sure seemed to just carry the world around in his backpack, that was for sure. Who carried around multiple flashdrives?

”His handwriting’s neater than ours,” Naomi observed as she carefully brushed him off. He seemed a little stiff, and she figured if she did it without saying anything he wouldn’t object too strenuously. “Jealous. You must’ve had a teacher who knew what they were doing.”

“ Naomi, be good.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but took the bag from Orion and handed it back to Tomer, stepping back. ”I’m Naomi,”” she said.

“I’m Orion,” he said. ”Nice to meet you too. Do you fall a lot?”

Normally, that was a question that should’ve come out of Naomi’s mouth, but it was meant…somewhat politely. They both offered him a smile to indicate that.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Tomer kept blushing as the pair picked up his spilled things. There... were a lot of them. Holy crap. And then the girl was... oh god. And she was using her hand and it was getting all dirty. Oh man.

”His handwriting’s neater than ours. Jealous. You must’ve had a teacher who knew what they were doing.”

"Oh. Uh. No, I... Uh. I'm fine! Please don't, don't, get your hand all... Uh. Sorry." Tomer didn't know what to say and his words were tripping all over everything like the unexpected intruders they were. So he just leaned against the wall and tried to relax a little. Falling was always scary, and the one he would've had if Orion hadn't caught him still filled his head.

"Nice to meet you," he said, meaning it. "Thanks again."

Tomer smiled and snorted a little. "Yes. I fall a lot. This-" he briefly held up his crutches "-is side effect." Then he laughed, a little uncomfortably. "But I was a klutz before I was meta too."

Feeling curious, he asked shyly, "Are... you twins?"

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Naomi paused, realizing how flustered the boy seemed to be getting, and leaned back to give him one of her looks. ”It’s not that big of a deal,” she said.

”We don’t mind a bit of dust, dirt or germs.” Orion shrugged. ”Especially her.”

”Hey!” But she didn’t seem to mind too terribly much, and just shook her head and finished brushing Tomer off before leaning back to examine and admire her work. ”Better. You’re almost kind of cute.”

”Stop that.” The last thing either of them needed was for the boy to get even more flustered, especially with Orion doing his best to get him to relax. Naomi rolled her eyes again, but didn’t say anything as she stepped back by her brother. The two nodded in silent but sympathetic understanding to the gesture with the crutches. They got and empathized with people with bad side effects. No surprise there.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

”He’s the older,” Naomi said.

”By what, two seconds? Whatever. We’re Gestalts.”

”Two bodies, one mind, generally creepy.”

”What’s your power anyways?”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Returning Naomi's look with a slightly confused and timid one of his own, it took apologetic tones to it before Tomer dropped his eyes. Even when they said they didn't mind dirt Tomer felt bad and wondered if he shouldn't offer one of the Handi-Wipes he kept in his bag. He fell enough that he kept a travel pack around to clean himself off with, along with a little packet of Band-Aids. But he was nervous, so he decided not to.

His face reddened again when Naomi said he was cute. Almost kind of, but still. Naomi was pretty, but Tomer wasn't going to say so. When Orion told her to knock it off, Tomer's face was thankful, but he still didn't say anything.

But then they said they were gestalts and then... what that was. "It doesn't sound creepy. It sounds hard," he said. At least as hard as what he had to put up with. "Is there... a benefit to it?"

"I 'store and redirect kinetic energy'," he said, quoting from his file. "It... comes out like... a big... push."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Being dirty really didn’t bother the twins, and they wouldn’t have accepted a Handi-Wipe even if it had been offered to them because it seemed silly. They could just head to the bathroom and wash their hands if they had to. No big deal. They both privately believed that the overclean thing was just making more of a problem with immune systems—or a lack thereof.

The twins weren’t the most expressive of people, but it was hard to miss the way they brightened when he said it wasn’t creepy. They were used to being creepy—so used to it that they’d accepted it as a name for themselves and as their own. ”Superstrength,”” Orion said.

”Superintelligence. It works.” They shrugged in unison. “It’s hard.”

And a lot of people didn’t recognize that either. So far, the twins were impressed with the boy, but they weren’t going to say that yet. They didn’t offer trust easily.

”So…you can kind of..”

”Blast people or something?” Naomi’s eyes swept him up and down.

”Must have some fun side effects.”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Well, in Tomer's mind, since he couldn't offer thank you cookies, a Handi-Wipe was just polite. He didn't use them often, but when he had to he was glad he had them. Like after a full body spill outside, into the grass and dirt. Tomer had never noticed how many places a person might trip, and was convinced he'd only found a tiny fraction of them so far. He had the same opinion about germs and immune systems, but there was acceptable levels of everyday dirt and wear and there was having grass stains on your face.

Their reaction to not being creepy startled him. Maybe it was Tomer measuring other powers against his own and being more sympathetic because of his own tribulations, but creepy was not an adjective that had come to mind when they'd said what 'Gestalt' was. Unusual, complicated, frustrating, challenging, and problematic, but not creepy. So far Tomer had yet to run into a power he'd categorize that way, and was glad. If he had to think up a power that was... maybe taking out your own eyeballs. Depending.

But it sounded like there was a definite good side to it. Still, Tomer couldn't imagine having to coordinate two bodies with one mind. He could barely coordinate one.

His eyes widened and he blushed again when they mentioned blasting. "No! Oh god. I'd never use it on a person. They'd get hurt."

Considering the strength of his release, Tomer never aimed at things either, unless it was during training. So far the only safe bet was the sky.

”Must have some fun side effects.”

"Past this?" He held up a crutch. "Um. No."

That was a lie, but things like his aches, the paralysis, and the occasional need for extra protein weren't really for casual conversation. He didn't want them to feel sorry for him... any more than they might be.

His things were all picked up, but Tomer still felt unsettled from the almost-fall and didn't want to move from where he leaned against the wall till he was more sure of himself. The twins didn't seem like they were going anywhere, so... conversation. Right. The hall was empty now, and Naomi and Orion had been very nice to him, but Tomer could feel his stomach twisting in the old familiar way it did when his Anxiety Disorder acted up. Maybe because there were two of them, looking at him, maybe because he felt a little trapped. Looking at the floor helped, even if it was just with his eyes, though it meant the twins could see his cheeks redden further. The stress of the day was catching up to him, but he made himself think of Santa Claus. And then Bee. Naomi and Orion had saved him from at the very least a concussion, if not a busted nose and a skull fracture. The least he could do was be civil.

"I... I think I... I better... go do my homework." His voice was softer, and though the words sounded okay he felt like he'd had to shove each one out with a mental bulldozer. He tried to look up at them and couldn't. "Thank you again for helping me. It's... it was really nice."

And then, feeling like the biggest dork (not to mention sort of ungracious and mean), Tomer slowly crutched off, hoping they weren't too offended. Or mad. Or... yeah.

[END]