Time Warp: Live and Let Die (James Campbell)

[Deleted]

New York City, September 2011

Oriel stretched like a kitten, his arms clear above his head as the morning sun dared to wake him from a dream that wasn't actually too bad. He rested his arms behind his head and fluttered his eyes open, allowing them to adjust a moment in the light, then glanced to the blonde figure beside him. "Oy...you awake?" No response. Whatever.

He sat up with a yawn. His head hurt. Oriel stood and ventured to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. This definitely wasn't the first time he'd woken with a hangover. And the cure for it, at least for him, was water and a cigarette. He returned to the bedroom and opened a window, lighting up as he looked down the metal fire escape that led down into the alleys of the Lower East Side borough Manhattan. He could hear kids at the courts that were just around the corner, living it up on that Saturday morning. Oriel sucked in a drag and let the nicotine go to work.

The figure behind him shuffled on the bed. "Hace frìo, Oriel. Close the window," she mumbled, fluttering her eyes open to gaze sleepily upon her young lover. The girl herself was only barely 18, but she definitely had the 'class' of an older woman, in Oriel's opinion.

He turned back to her, an irritated smile creeping up the side of his face. "And what, Nadia, you want the whole fucking place to smell like smoke when your "popy" get home?" Oriel shook his head, he couldn't believe how stupid she was sometimes.

"Baah, he's not coming home until tonight, baby." Nadia slid herself across the bed, still in her silky nightshirt, still giving him that lazy smile. One of her eyelashes was peeling off.

He chuckled at the sight of his little slut. "You look like shit, woman. 'slike you got a caterpillar comin' outta your eye." Oriel snuffed the cigarette against the side of the building and flicked it to the ground 3 stories below. After closing the window, the 14-year-old boy stalked back to the bed, giving his little ray of sunshine the kiss she was vying for. "I like it," he said with a cocky smile.

"Otra vez, señorito?"

"You wish." Oriel shook his head, his shaggy dark hair fluttering with it. "Nah, I gotta get home, been a couple days. Mr. and Mrs. Stawson might actually start t'miss me." Last time he was gone too long, they'd reported him as missing, though that was probably just because he missed being there for the social worker.

Plus he wanted to go visit the old tattoo guy. Something weird happened last time he went there to help out. Stupid weird. Something about Meta-whatnot, Oriel wasn't really paying attention. But it'd ended in yet another fight with the old guy and Oriel wanted to see if they couldn't patch up. After all, Oriel didn't really hate him.

Fully clothed, Oriel gave his girl another kiss and shot out the door. "¡Hasta, Nadia!"

"¡Hasta luego, peque! She waved at him from the bed and slumped back to sleep.

----------------------

Oriel strode himself down the street, ignoring the cold while only in his white tank and mud-colored windbreaker, dodging the masses of people who thought that what they did and where they were going in such a rush was important. It wasn't that far of a walk to the metro line that took him over the East River and to the good ol' town of Brooklyn, where his current fosters had their home. It wasn't much of one, but at least it was one, a two story town house stuffed in between a row of other two-story townhouses. They were a little run-down, so they had to be cheap, right?

Whatever, Oriel was still convinced that the Stawsons paid for it with the money the state gave 'em.

He stepped up the stoop to the front door, wondering if it'd be locked or not. Oriel didn't have a key. If nobody was home, he'd have to try and break in through the window again, though last time had gotten him reported by the neighbors as a burglar. Oriel tried the knob. Yes! Open!

Also, No! That meant he was in for yet another annoying, endless lecture the moment he stepped inside. He opened the door as slowly and quietly as he could and tiptoed inside and past the family room towards the stairs.

"Oriel?" That tone from that hell-of-a-woman reached his ears and he growled. "Oriel get over here, we need t'talk." He rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trudging his way reluctantly back to the "family" room, a place that held only a couch, the recliner that Mr. Stawson often passed out in with a beer in his hand, and an old boob-tube that didn't even have cable. Oriel glared at the woman, but was surprised to see that the fat-man actually had eyes behind those wrinkled lids of his. Even more surprising, was another man, someone he didn't know, who looked well out of place there in that room.

"....t'fuck is this?" he blurted out. Then it hit him. "This 'bout that rock I threw? I didn't mean it, a'ight? It was a accident! You know I can't pay for that shit!"

"Oh, for goodness---it'snot about that, but we're gonna have a talk about that later, young man," Mrs. Stawson scolded him with a pointed finger, then looked to her husband, then to the unknown man. "This guy, he says he here for you, I don't know why, something about manifesting but...." She held her hand out toward the boy. "He's all yours, maybe you should explain, 'cause I don't get none of this." She started to rub her temples, something she always did when she was over-stressed, Oriel noticed.

Oriel glared at the man. "What?" he urged. What was this all about?

[Dr. James Campbell]

James was seething.

He had been a recruiter for a long time, and had seen a lot of ugly home situations. Homes where parents kicked their kids out at the first sign of meta abilities. Homes where parents tried to beat powers out of their kids. But those ones were a little easier to deal with than neglect because police departments tend to take abuse cases more seriously. When he had to sit in this room, assaulted by the smell of sweat and stale beer, James felt queasy. The foster parents didn't know what had happened to their ward with his power. They didn't even know where the boy was.

The recruiter had exhausted his smalltalk already on the so-called "foster parents" of Vanguard, Oriel, and had given himself ten more minutes before he called the police to report a missing minor. He let the resentment build; there was no way he could give a pass to these people. He was a parent too, both biological and foster. The one time that his and his husband's foster son had been in danger, Chase had led an attack on a terrorist compound to protect him. These neglectful wastes of human consciousness didn't deserve to be called parents of any sort.

In James's defense, as he counted down the minutes before he turned the horrid people in, he was thinking of his own two kids. Ginny, who he had fought desperately to stay in a dysfunctional marriage to stay close to. And Niko, who he and Chase were in the process of adopting. The paperwork would likely come through around the boy's eleventh birthday, and James had already started planning the party for him. 

He was three minutes away from the phone call when the front door opened. The woman called Oriel in, and James's mind went into overdrive as he processed the new information. The boy had obviously been smoking recently, and--to the recruiter's hyper-aware senses--reeked of alcohol and sex. Exactly the kind of things that real parents would have an issue with if they didn't know where their son had been.

Ignoring the poor introduction given, James stood addressed the boy himself. It was best if he could focus on helping him, instead of the shitty situation that was making him so angry. "Oriel, my name is Dr. James Campbell. I am a recruiter for a school in Vermont, and I'd like to talk to you. Tell me, has anything strange happened to you recently? Regarding tattoos?"

He looked over at the disgraceful excuses for human lives who were still in the room and gestured towards the door. "If you don't mind, I'd need to speak to Oriel privately for a while. I will let you know when we're done."

[Deleted]

Clearly there were reasons why Oriel didn't like to stay in that house. Why he roamed the streets, hopping from one group of messed up kids to the next. Why he ran truant from the school on a regular basis. And why if he couldn't find a girl to shack up with, he'd find an abandoned building to squat in. Some of the kids in this street gang he sometimes hung around knew of some real good hideouts. They really helped each other out. Not like the one he used to be involved with. There were a lot of drugs surrounding that one. Too many bad memories there.

The Stawson couple had taken Oriel in a couple of years ago, after his last home was unfortunately destroyed in a fire. It was Ok at first. They did what they had to, put on a show, the smiles, do the picture-fucking-perfect act…until they realized that Oriel was just a big problem. He wasn't succeeding in school, he was argumentative, antagonistic, reckless. At one point they even described him as having "no common sense" and "no sense of self-preservation".

"He doesn't try hard enough." "He never going to amount to anything at this rate." "Why can't he just be a normal kid like everyone else, doesn't he know we're doing him a favor by giving him a place to live? He should be grateful!" "It ain't worth it keeping him here." "But we need the money! It's only a little bit."

Once Oriel was able to see past the lies they vomited all over him, realizing that what they said in private when he wasn't around was completely different than how they pretended to be to his face…he just gave up trying. If they thought he was a problem back then, then he had definitely earned the title now. Smoking, drinking, and sexing while having barely hit puberty.

Oriel glared up at this Dr. Campbell, revealing nothing to him. So he was here about that? Was Oriel in trouble for it? If he was, he wasn't going to say anything. "I don't know what you're talking 'bout," he said firmly, scowl planted on his face. Had the old guy ratted on him?

Mrs. Stawson stood, however. "Now waita minute, tattoos? Oriel you didn't get one'a those stupid things, did you? Now listen, Mr. Campbell or whatever you are. We're his legal guardians, if there's something you have to say to Oriel, I think we should be here." She'd said some of the right words, but the tiredness in her voice seemed to vastly say otherwise. The fact that she said anything at all implied she might not have been listening in the first place. Mr. Stawson still hadn't said a word, but only looked between the three with a heavy brow.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"I think you do, Oriel, and it's okay. You're not in any trouble." After all these years, James was very good at his job. Young metas with crappy home lives didn't just open up to strangers. Not when the last thing they needed was another reason to be abused or neglected. All he wanted to be was reassuring to the boy. No need to scare him.

The Stawsons, on the other hand, where an entirely different matter. James carefully kept his rage in check, and it was almost casually the way that the dismissed Mrs. Stawson's concerns. "First of all, it is Doctor Campbell. Second, you will not be his guardians much longer. As an employee of the Institute I am a mandatory reporter. Even if Oriel doesn't come to Hammel voluntarily with me tonight, it is obvious that you are not suitable guardians for him. Or any child, for that matter. I assure you, you will be reported to CPS as soon as I have finished talking with Oriel. Now, please excuse us."

He hadn't disclosed what his power was, though he had spoken extensively about the level of training all staff members had. James had thought it better to keep the Stawsons guessing about what, exactly, he'd be able to do to them if they were disagreeable.

Of course, that was mostly bluster. He was a mandatory reporter and did plan on tipping off CPS about the conditions Oriel had been living under. But his intimidation came solely from his government ID, his suit, and his height. James looked the part, and so long as the Stawsons did not know that his power did nothing but help him catalog every detail of their unpleasant home for his report, he was going to be intimidating.

[Deleted]

"I think you do, Oriel, and it's okay. You're not in any trouble."

Like shit he wasn't, that's what they all said before they pulled something he didn't like out of their asses. Actually, from the tone in how he said that, Oriel was already starting to see where this was going. A faint seed of panic started to settle in his stomach as he listened to the exchange between his foster mother and the person called Dr. Campbell.

Not his guardians much longer?

Come voluntarily?

Tonight?

And….they were going to get in trouble?

"No!" he shouted out without thinking. He stared between the three of them with wide, panicking eyes.

Oriel was a fuck up all by himself, he didn't need any help to do that. He didn't want anyone to be hurt or punished just because he couldn't keep it together. Because Oriel couldn't be the fucking normal human being like everyone wanted him to be.

And now, again, as a consequence of all that, "You're….taking me away?" There was a shakiness in his voice as that realization became more and more real to him. Oriel had no love for these people and didn't want to be there, but if he was going to leave, he wanted it to be under his own terms and not at the whims of some dude in a suit with a fancy title. It'd happened enough already. Why couldn't he just live on his own? He could do it, he'd been doing it for forever! Why did he have to still be a---

Oriel gave the Stawsons no time to excuse themselves for he was already out the door and running to the tattoo parlor as fast as his legs could carry him.

Mrs. Stawson merely shrugged. "See what I have to deal with? You wanna take him, be my guest." If she was intimidated by the doctor's words, then she didn't show it on her face, though she crossed her arms to keep her hands from trembling.

[Dr. James Campbell]

The "No!" surprised him. But Even if Oriel had been able to explain his protest eloquently, James would not have believed him. Not with having his own kids, his own foster son. Anyone who didn't know where a child in their care was didn't deserve to be a parent of any sort.

Not in his view.

He barely to Mrs. Stawson's weak comment, and instead grabbed his coat. James wasn't in the best of shape, and almost certainly couldn't keep up with a scared teenager. (Then again, if his smoking was a regular habit, perhaps he could. James had smoked exactly once in his life, and unfortunate afternoon had happened years before Oriel was even born.) He did have the advantage of having read the boy's file, and had a location for where he was likely to go: the same tattoo parlor where the boy had manifested.

By the time the recruiter made it outside, Oriel was out of sight. It took James just a minute more to plug the address into his phone, and followed the directions. It would be best if he could convince Oriel to come with him tonight. Then he wouldn't have to return to the Stawsons or go to a shelter. He walked quickly, but didn't bother running. Even if Oriel didn't head straight there, James would be able to find him.

Outside the tattoo parlor, James stopped to take a deep breath. Maybe his approach wasn't working. By trying to intimidate the Stawsons, he might have scared the boy off. Try again, James thought, be an educator, not a cop. Maybe then the boy would listen.

There was a tinkle as he entered the small shop. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Oriel Vanguard. I'm here to talk to him about his education."

[Deleted]

Oriel ran hard and fast, not once looking back to see if anyone was following him. The Stawsons, he knew, wouldn't. The only ones who bothered to chase him were guys who wanted to force things on him. Like cops, and the social workers, though those guys were almost always too out of shape to do so. Either that or they just didn't care. That must be it. They just didn't care. So what did it matter what he did?

He was breathing hard by the time he reached the tattoo shoppe, flying through the front door and racing all the way to the back. "Old guy! Quick, hide me!" He didn't give the old, muscled cuban a chance to respond before pushing aside one of the trays and opening the cabinet it was blocking, climbing inside with his knees to his chest and closing the door behind him.

The old guy, however, was less than amused. "Boy! What are you doing? I'm expecting a customer!"

"I ain't here!" Oriel whispered harshly.

Rudolfo cracked the cabinet open, leering at the cowering boy with a scowl. "What's this all about?" he said exasperated. Oriel didn't answer. "…..there's spiders down there."

"No there ain't. Cleaned 'em out last time."

The cuban snorted. "If you say so. Who're you hiding from?"

"Dr. James Campbell, some guy from Vermont. He gonna take me away, don't let him!"

Rudolfo closed the cabinet with a roll of his eyes and leaned back in his chair, stroking his grey beard with a low growl. He shook his head and started to get ready for his next appointment. A time later, he heard the chime from the door and stood to go greet his guest. The large man crossed his thick arms over his chest and stood solidly in the doorway to the back room. "I don't really have time to be playing the game 'who the fuck are you', but…" he nodded at the doctor with a kind glare. "who the fuck are you?"

Oriel stifled a snicker from inside the cabinet.

[Dr. James Campbell]

When he got inside, the recruiter glanced around. The owner was closer to being intimidating than the Stawsons were, by far. But the thing that actually made him uncomfortable was the needles. He couldn't even see them, but he knew that they had to be around. (James didn't have any issues with tattoos themselves--Chase had multiple--but how they got there just bothered him.) There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, before he composed himself. It was silly to be thinking about needles right now. He had work to do.

Oriel couldn't have known that James could hear his snickering. His heightened perception included incredibly sharp senses. But if the proprietor was going to actually be protective of the boy, the recruiter didn't mind dealing with him first.

"My name is Dr. James Campbell. I'm a recruiter for a private school for young meta-humans. I'm looking for Oriel because I believe he would do well there. You might already know what I'm talking about. There was an incident here a few days ago involving him." James straightened his glasses, and pulled a small book out of the inside pocket of his coat.

"If you could have him come out and speak with me, I think I can clear up any concerns he has." His voice was practiced and confident. This is what he did for a living, and even being in a place close to needles wasn't going to stop him. "I have some literature for him to look at, and I would like to hear what he has to say about what happened to him."

[Deleted]

The shop itself was very small, only enough room to work on one person at a time in the back and a one-manned counter in front that was manned by the same one who stood beside it. Posted on either wall were examples of the man's work, no one else's as he was the only artist on staff here, and more were collected in a binder placed on the counter. Both windows, along with the door, were barred, though the left window had cracks webbing out from a tiny bullet hole that had been taped over with a piece of cardboard. There was a two cushion red bench alongside one of the walls with two metal lawn chairs on the opposite wall.

Rudolfo stood there quietly while the man spoke, neither denying nor confirming the presence of the boy. Oriel listened from the inside of the cabinet, keeping his head down but his ears sharp.

School? Private school? Didn't this guy know anything? Oriel didn't do school, he was always skipping out and when he went he spectacularly achieved straight Ds and Fs and managed to piss off his teachers to the point where they didn't expect him to try anymore. Why would he do any better at a private school? And what was this meta-stuff about anyway?

Oriel did remember the old guy saying something about it when that thing happened the other day. He thought he was joking or something. Trying to get rid of him by telling Oriel there was something wrong with him. Oriel cradled his knees in closer.

The cuban sniffed as he looked at the book that Dr. Campbell produced and he held out his hand. "Can I see that?"

Oriel had no idea what was going on between the two but he was surprised that the old guy hadn't screamed the guy out of his shop already. He wasn't going to turn him in right? Oriel didn't want to go anywhere, he wanted to stay here with the old guy and his friends. He didn't need anybody to take care of him and he didn't need schooling.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James handed over the book to the other man. It was glossy, flashy in the same way college advertisements were. And though it mentioned the nice campus and nicer-than-most-colleges dorms, the focus was on what the school was. A haven for young Meta-Humans. (However, it didn't mention where the school was or how it was funded. If the book got into the wrong hands, it wouldn't be that useful.)

The recruiter was calm and focused. Maybe this man would be able to help him, maybe not. But if Oriel could hear him, hopefully he would come out soon. "We think Oriel has a power that manifested a few days ago, in this shop. Were you here? Can you tell me what happened?"

Of course, he knew that the other man was not at all likely to trust him. James was a stranger, and one intent on taking the teenager away with him. Naturally, he came across as suspicious. "We want to talk to him, and get him to come to Hammel for training. In addition to being an excellent school, it's the only place in the country where Oriel can get help. He can learn how to control his power and use it, but only when he wants to do it."

Hopefully, that would be enough to get the man on his side. When the options were letting someone struggle on their own or sending them to school, a lot of concerned guardians relented to the schooling.

[Deleted]

Still crouching down in a cabinet in a small room that shared an open ceiling with the front, Oriel could definitely hear what Dr. Campbell was saying, what he was asking, how he was trying to sneakily convince the old guy to be on his side, and all Oriel could do was hope and pray to whatever entity that controlled the universe that Rudolfo wouldn't fall for it. Nope, he wouldn't right? The old guy was smart, he wasn't going to fall for these tricks....right?

Rudolfo was silent as he took the book from the recruiter and started flipping through it. The crease between his thick eyebrows remained, however, as his coal eyes scanned the information and his ears caught the words of Dr. Campbell. "The knife," he started in a thick bass voice, "was destroyed." The man had confiscated it right away and done so at the chagrin of the boy Oriel. He motioned vaguely towards the wall which showcased his artwork. "It came from one of those."

He missed not a beat before his next statement. "There's no tuition fees on this." The old man flipped the book over in his hands, searching. That didn't stop him from posing yet another question. "He would live on campus?"

Oriel, however, did not like the direction this conversation seemed to be heading. He shifted nervously, burying his head even further into his knees.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James glanced up at the wall when the other man gestured. Their information had been good, Oriel was an Ink Manifestor. While not nearly as common as say, telekinesis, there had been others who had gone through Hammel in the recruiter's time. "He touched the image and made it solid? Ink Manifestation. There's another boy with the same ability who is about to graduate, actually."

Of course, the recruiter was able to keep up with the questions. He knew that entire book cover-to-cover, as it was part of his job. "Yes, there is dorm housing available for all students. It's mandatory for students who are under 18 and whose families don't live in the area. The school is funded similarly to private schools, and all students receive a full scholarship that covers tuition, housing, and meals. Students in the foster system get a stipend for living necessities."

"There are also a few families in Pilot Ridge who specifically foster meta kids, though most of the students in the system just live at the school full time." James hoped that would be reassuring. Kids in bad foster situations were too frequently victims of a system that shuffled them from one poor fit to another. Stability and not having to deal with ill-suited foster parents was a check in the pro column, usually. (Other cases, like his own son Niko, were tougher. Niko hadn't wanted to leave his foster home originally.)

[Deleted]

Ink Manifestation? Oriel peeked up and rolled his eyes. Big whoop-dee-doo! So he had some sort of superpower, that wasn't all that special. Yeah, right…. Actually it did sound a little cool. Did that mean that he could do the kind of shit that happened the other day all the time?

Must be a trick…that kind of stuff didn't happen in real life, just in stories. Meta-humans or whatever were just a…just a….

They were just things that happened to people who weren't him. There was nothing special about Oriel, so why was this guy trying to say otherwise?

Though it did sound nice to have a constant place to live, not have to worry about meals, and even get to see the money that the state owed him. Oriel didn't need no education though, he'd been doing just fine so far without it. And he didn't want to be taken care of by nobody, especially people who didn't give two shits about him. Though it sounded like he wouldn't have to live with more strangers that just wanted to force their rules and values on him.

Still….Oriel didn't want to go. He didn't. He had…people here he wanted to….like the old guy.

Rudolfo handed the booklet back to Dr. Campbell. "The boy will go," he decided, saying nothing further. That was all he needed to say.

Oriel was already clambering out of the cabinet as fast as he could and he ran out into the front room with yet another "Noo!" his adolescent voice cracking on that extended vowel. He rushed the old man from behind, beating fruitlessly on his back and on his arm with his own tiny fists and thin, malnourished arms. "Traitor!" he accused the old guy like a five year old child. Rudolfo merely stood there like a stone statue as the boy beat on him and, yes, even tried to gnaw on his arm, looking down at the boy with naught but a curiously raised eyebrow. Oriel frenzied for a few moments longer before giving the large cuban one last, ineffectual shove with both arms and snagging onto Rudolfo's shirt to bury his face in it. "I don't wanna go nowhere!" he screamed. Oriel peeked an eye out at the reciter, glaring at him with an eye that clearly wanted to direct his next attack on the doctor himself. "Go 'way! I ain't going!" Oriel declared.

[Dr. James Campbell]

Apparently, appealing to the tattoo artist was the right call. It was obvious the man cared about Oriel. He took the booklet back and went to pull out his card. James assumed the boy wouldn't have a cell phone of his own, not coming from that home. But even if it was from New York, having a support system would be best for the boy.

He didn't get a chance to do so, however, before the boy came careening from the back room to start beating on the tattoo artist. The other man barely reacted, and so James just let the boy's tantrum run its course. His own kids had long since outgrown that kind of outburst, but they'd had more stable homes throughout their lives.

After Oriel's outburst, James waited a moment before continuing. "You have a power that you can't control. Hammel will teach you how to use it. Everyone I've known who went there was better for it, including me. It's hard to adjust at first, but the benefit of knowing how to control your ability is worth so much."

He gestured at the designs on the wall. They were impressive, if you liked that kind of thing, and made this the perfect setting to pitch the school. "You can turn images into real objects. Has it happened since that first day? Don't you want to be able to control that? And it's going to have side effects. What are yours? Muscle fatigue? Nosebleeds? Hands going numb or stiff? With practice, you can learn to control those too."

[Deleted]

Stupid old man! Old man traitor! Oriel wasn't never gonna forgive him! That's what he thought as Oriel beat down on the giant man like a savage child, one desperate swing after the other, like if he hit long enough, hard enough, and screamed loud enough, then the world would take pity on him make this all go away. Once finished with that Oriel practically curled up in the large man's girth, grabbing hold like it was the only thing that would keep him from being stolen away by this stupid, ugly stranger!

He wasn't going to cry though. No matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much his eyes burned and a few sparkles of wet collected, he wasn't. Crying never did anything, he learned that a long time ago. Just made people call him a kid, made them think he was an even bigger problem.

He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to go.

"I don't care, it's dumb, I don't want it!" he lied with explosive insistence. It was pretty cool. He could think of a whole bunch of things he could do with that kind of power. Though, no, he hadn't bothered to try since that one time. And it was scary how this guy listed off the things that happened right after. Oriel peeked out a glare from behind the big guy Rudolfo. "Yeah, that shit happened." There was a clear air of disdain in his voice. "What're you, psychic or something?" He'd heard rumors that there were people like that in this so-called "meta" population.