Writing Challenge: 100 Stories. 1 Month.

[Terrance Asher]

My sucky AU OOC Crackship post of the prompt:

95. Easy

The brunette grinned. The older boy had made sure he planned this all out right, that he had a perfect hand of cards. This game that he was playing put him in a dangerous position where folding was not possible.

After their first meeting a few weeks ago, the two had become neither friends, nor enemies. It was something in between, and for lack of a better word they were frenemies. That still did not mean that neither of them did not want the other out of the picture so they could win this little tiny power game. Quite the contrary both wanted to win very badly, they were just being civil about it. And now, Terrance had decided, was the time for him to play a little dirty.

The older boy had paid close attention to the younger male for the last few weeks. He noted even the tiniest thing that could help him. He had those that had already come over to his side watch and report back to him anything that would help. That was how he had decided on this specific plan.

He was putting himself out on a limb, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Besides, not many could resist his charm; he did after all have both genders bowing down at his feet. He doubted taking on Zachary LaRousse would be any different than the rest, maybe a little bit more of a challenge, but definitely not much different.

Terrance had invited the younger boy of to meet up the club down in the warehouse district knowing full well that the boy would not just meet up with him without looking good. The older boy knew damn well that the LaRousse kid would have to go back to that spare house of his to find something fashionable to wear, to make sure he looked good in public. That would take awhile, making him late to their little meeting. Terr took this as an excuse to go over to the younger boy’s “closet.”

Terrance entered the kitchen to find the younger brunette standing there shirtless in only a pair of sweats, holding the refrigerator door open, and pulling out a bottle of water.

“Weren’t you suppose to be getting dressed,” Terrance commented. “Unless it's fashionable now to go out in public in with only sweat pants on. Which I doubt since I am still wearing clothes.” Yeah, he was being a smart-ass, but that was part of the arrogant charm that was Terrance Aeron Asher.

The shorter boy just sent a cold look Terrance’s way as he opened the bottle of water, taking a small sip. The blue-eyed boy found the appearance of teen in front of him to be quite, for lack of a better word, hot. If he didn't, he wouldn't have been playing this hand. Not that he would admit that to anyone. The only person he would ever admit to liking, that was of the same gender would have to have been Ryne.

Slowly making his ways over, Terrance’s eye's never moved off the younger boy. Step by step he approached. His eyes watched like a hawk that was sizing up its prey. The womanizer circled around the boy once, before he stopped behind him. Their bodies were close, barely a few inches apart. Zac could feel Terrance’s hot breath against his skin, contrasting with the cold air coming out of the still open refrigerator door. Terr’s arm reached up closer to Zac.

“What the hell are you doing?” Zac questioned, his tone was both accusing and somewhat malicious.

The male being spoken to just ignored him. His arm continued to reach up only to pass Zac. Instead, he reached to press the little button that would release ice cubes.

Leaning back against the counter the older male replied, with a casual tone in his voice, “Nothing at all,” before he popped a piece of ice into his mouth.

Zac turned around to face him. “You’re a creeper you know that right?” Terrance just shrugged off the comment taking no offense to it like he normally would, after all, the situation itself was not a normal one.

“If I were a creeper you wouldn’t know what I was doing. I wouldn’t have gotten caught if I was a creeper.” Yeah, he had to prove his point in the most arrogant manner possible. “See if I was a creeper you would not see what would be coming next, like this—“ Terrance's voice cut off sharply.

The taller boy had leaned down and crashed his lips onto Zac's. He tried to resist, but was pinned between Terr and the refrigerator. Lightly Terrance nibbled on younger boy's bottom lip, before sucking on it gently. Surprisingly, it wasn’t long until the younger male kissed back. This kiss was definitely not the worst kiss nor was it the best that Terrance ever had. He had kissed plenty of girls in his lifetime and he had been through them all, from the crappy kissers to the kissers that knew every way to kiss possible. And Zac was…well…he was one of those kissers that turned out to be a little too eager to be kissing someone. He was usually turned off by people who didn't know how to kiss. Especially those that when they kissed were practically eating his face, but something about this was unusual. The fact of the matter was that Terrance was enjoying it more than he should have.

The piece of ice that he had put in his mouth earlier was half melted when the teen licked the younger boy's lips asking for entrance. Zac easily let him in. Terrance let the piece of ice slip into the other’s mouth. He could feel the shorter boy shiver as he took in the piece of frozen liquid. A mischievous grin to shaped on Terrance’s lips as they kissed.

They only occasionally broke the kiss ever once in a while as they moved from the kitchen to the bedroom. Quickly they caught their breaths and resumed their make out session. Their hands roamed each others bodies freely, touching where they pleased.

A couple hours later, he woke up. He placed his hand on the bed, trying to push himself up, only to end up grimacing. His hand had touched something sticky. Looking down, he found that his hand had landed in some chocolate syrup, with hints whipped cream that somehow managed to get onto the bed. There was not a doubt that he probably had those same substances somewhere on his own body. Probably mixed with sweat too. Actually, the older brown-haired boy felt disgusting. He wanted nothing more than to take a nice warm shower, however, he did not want to risk staying here any longer than he needed to. Quickly, he threw on his clothes. ready to be gone from this place. He wanted to get that nice warm shower he needed at his own place.

Before leaving Terrance leaned down and whispered into the other boy's, “And now I have you exactly where I want you, because we all know this would ruin your image if this ever got out. Say goodbye to your throne Prince.” The older boy’s tone was mocking. He had what he needed.

The system had been hacked by one of Terrance’s nerdier minions. All the cameras in the place had been wired to send its live feed to his laptop. A laptop which was recording whatever images it received. It just went to show that being nice, even if one had to fake it, could pay off in the future.

The whole job had been too easy. There was no challenge at all for the older teen. Oh, it was so effortless, like taking candy from a baby. The rest of the game would be just as simple now, with the Prince in his hand, he held a Royal Flush. With one last look at the sleeping form of the younger boy a small smirk formed on Terrance’s lips. Just as quickly as it appeared, he was out the door.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Terrance Asher]

20. Event

That day shouldn’t have been a happy memory. Someone had just recently died after all, and they had just buried him not too long ago. But, in Terrance’s mind it was one of his most cherished memory.

It had only been mere days before his best friend Ryne had told him the news. They had walked home from school together. With Ryne’s house coming up first Terrance waved goodbye to him. He promised that he would come over after dinner so they could watch their favorite movie of the moment together. For the evening the movie was Disney's Brink.

Living four blocks away, it took him at least an additional fifteen minutes to reach his own house. In those fifteen minutes, Terrance always thought that there could have been much better ways he could spend his time. He wished his parents could just move next door to the Caliban's, making the time it would take Terrance to get home, from after Ryne reached his own house, only an additional thirty seconds more. He could have a fifteen minute head start just so he could play video game fifteen minutes earlier. The brown-haired boy also knew that he could stay at Ryne’s house for an extra fifteen minutes every evening to hang out and do whatever they had decided to do that day. Terrance could have had his after school snack fifteen minutes earlier as well.

But, on that day it took less than fifteen minutes from the moment Ryne walked through the door to his house to find out his father had just passed away. Because in the time he it took to walk home from school, Ryne's father had gotten into a fatal car crash. In less than fifteen minutes, Ryne had run to Terrance, disbelief fresh in his mind.

The impact of the shorter boy against Terrance’s back startled him. He didn't know who it was. He was just about ready to turn around and give them a piece of his twelve year old mind. Even at such a young age, Terrance could be intimidating. Before he could, he could feel smaller arms snake their way around his body, squeezing him tightly. At that moment, he knew who it was. Only one person would wrap their arms around him like that, the way that only Ryne would when he was sad or scared. He had heard the boy cry many times before. And just like now, he had even felt his shirt soak up the boy' warm tears.

Terrance turned around pulling the younger boy closer to him. He tried to comfort him, calm him down, before asking what happened. Ryne just kept bawling no matter what the older boy tried. After a few minutes of standing there in the middle of the block, with a hysterical little blond, Terrance literally had to try and carry the crying boy home. He did not know how long they would have ended up standing there if he waited for the younger boy to stop. Ryne might have been skinny, but the smaller boy was a lot heavier then he looked. It took nearly double the time it should have if they had both been walking to reach Ryne's house.

Mrs. Caliban opened the door with a sullen look on her face. None of the usual joy it held was there. On most days, when Terrance greeted her she had that motherly, warming smile, but not today. Terrance simply let a near silent greeting escape his lips. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew he couldn't just drop Ryne off and leave. Mrs. Caliban stepped aside, letting Terrance through, giving an apologetic look toward her son's best friend. Terrance noticed, but stayed silent, not feeling like it was his place to ask what was going on yet. He brought the boy, who was still burying himself into Terrance's chest, to his room. Evie ended up using Terrance as a pillow as he slowly cried himself to sleep.

Somehow, the blue-eyed boy managed to find the patience to sit there for an hour. It was pretty easy to watch the blond sleep actually. Bu in all honesty, it was more due to the fact that he had been thinking. Sure, Ryne was a crybaby sometimes, but Terrance accepted that. All of Ryne’s other personality traits trumpeted over that one. And the fact that they liked watching the same shows, play the same games, and other things. Terrance would never trade his best friend for anything in the world.

His eyes gazed over the younger boy as he slept. He noticed how soft his features looked and how much calmer he seemed, as if there wasn’t anything bad in the world. He wondered what he dreamed about. His eyes moved down to the blond’s lips. They looked soft. He wanted to kiss them to know what it would feel like if their lips touched. Kissing was for people who loved each other, and Terrance knew he loved Ryne. They were best friends, they had to love each other. Slowly, Terr closed the distance between both their lips until they met, lingering there for a second before he pulled away. The younger boy's lips really were soft. Terrance's heart stopped for a second. Best friends or not, boys weren’t supposed to like boys like that. Boys were supposed to like girls. Terrance was not a pansy, not at all. But, the kiss felt so right to him. It was nothing at all like the time he kissed Emma whats-her-face behind the school a few weeks ago. It was in that moment he realized he actually might have liked Ryne as more than his best friend, but nobody could know, and he would never tell anyone.

This was going to be a secret that no one would ever find out about, not even Ryne. Terrance decided this adamantly as he went downstairs to talk to Ryne's mom. It was then, only an hour after the fact, that he had found out what had actually happened. Ryne’s father had passed away, he was gone. Terrance himself felt like crying. Mr. Caliban was more of a father than his own father had been. The only thing he could do was offer his condolences before he left, leaving the Caliban's to grieve for themselves.

Thinking about it now, as he played with a piece of the sleeping boy’s blond locks, left Terrance feeling a mixer of sadness, happiness, and guilt. It had been one of the saddest days for Ryne, but for Terrance it had been a day of revelations. He knew on that day that he was in love with his best friend, as much as he wanted to and tried to deny it. Only it took him six years to even attempt to admit it out loud. Still, even now he would not tell Ryne about that memory because that was a secret of the past. It was a secret meant for Terrance to keep.

[Dr. James Campbell]

29. Vote

"So, Chase."

The blond man stiffened slightly as Harri sat down next to him. He'd been dozing off, barely listening to the television, or James arguing with his brother as they did the dishes in the kitchen. (Politics on TV, the Mets' chances in the kitchen. Or maybe it was the other way around.) "Oh. Uh, yeah? What's up?"

"Who are you voting for?" She crossed her arms and smiled at him pleasantly, but that didn't make him feel any more comfortable. He'd thought that James was opinionated when it came to politics, but then he'd met his little sister.

"That's a bit of a personal question, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Harri leaned against him, making herself comfortable and him decidedly un. "I'm just looking out for my brother's best interests."

Chase shook his head. "It's none of your business. Hell, it's none of his business, technically."

"So you're a Republican."

"Yes."

"Jay!" Harri was up like a shot and in the kitchen before Chase really processed what she was doing, but he followed as quickly as he could. "James. You're dating a Republican? What's wrong with you?"

James didn't even turn from his place at the sink, just dried his hands on a towel and carefully pushed on his rolled-up sleeves. "Very funny, Harri. Are you going to help or not?"

Harriet barrelled on, "He just said it. And he's not saying who he's going to vote for. And he's from Arizona."

"I know that, Harri." The recruiter rolled his eyes, still ignoring his sister. "But that doesn't mean he's a Republican, or that he's voting for McCain."

"Jamie?" Suddenly, Chase's throat was dry. "I kinda am."

"You're a Republican?"

"...Yeah."

There was a moment of dead silence, as James turned to look at his partner.

They'd never talked politics. It had been two years of carefully avoiding the subject on Chase's part, since he knew James was opinionated, and he was mostly not political.

And then he started to laugh. "Harri, seriously. We've been together two years. I know this."

"And it doesn't bother you?" Harri said, but she wasn't the only one thinking it.

"He's not a Right-Wing Nutjob, if that's what you're asking." James went back to doing the dishes, and Chase finally breathed again. "I imagine, if you were to ask, he'd tell you that he's against government intervention in a lot of things, and that it isn't the government's place to tell consenting adults who they can marry. Granted, he's wrong about a lot of things--"

"I'm also, ya'know, standing right here, Jamie." He could deal with some light teasing, but it was embarrassing when they weren't alone.

"Sorry, Chase. But it not like it matters who you vote for anyway." James looked back at him and grinned. "I'll cancel it out."

Chase grinned back, and Harri threw her hands up into the air. "My brother is dating a gay Republican."

"Shut up, Harri. Laura married one." Mike finally contributed, going back to drying the dishes.

Unfortunately, that was when Laura came in. "What, exactly, did I marry?"

James smirked, glad to get the conversation off of his partner for now. "A gay Republican."

"Dave isn't..."

Yeah, that kept the conversation off of Chase for a while.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#76 - Rant

“They have no right to keep us here. It’s a violation of our First Amendment rights to peaceably assemble and freedom of speech. And the Sixth Amendment. They didn’t let you call your attorney.”

“You are my attorney.”

“Well, it probably violates the Eighth Amendment too.”

“This isn’t cruel and unusual punishment. It’s a holding cell. This isn’t the first time we’ve been arrested, and they didn’t even fingerprint us this time.”

“…that’s right. Why didn’t they fingerprint us?”

The taller man smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“Then it should make up for them holding us in violation of our rights, now shouldn’t it?”

“Well, someone from our group should be able to get us out.”

“The only other person in our group got arrested and is sitting in her cell as a chicken.”

“...as a chicken?”

“Remember what I said about vetting people you work with? Yes, a chicken. A little black chicken. She finds it comforting.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It isn’t horrible; she enjoys her powers.”

“No. I mean, what if she ended up at a poultry farm? What if she ended up in a meat packing plant? How can we be sure that our food isn’t actually meta-people?”

“Because you aren’t Charlton Heston, and this isn’t the set of Soylent Green.”

“I think I’ll have to consider becoming a vegetarian.”

“Good luck with that.”

“You don’t think I could do it?”

“You’re thinking of eating a pastrami sandwich right now.”

“...I was not.”

“Anyway, since she’s in her cell, and all of your other friends decided to go on that vacation you didn’t want to go on-”

“You didn’t go either.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

“Ben was supposed to invite you.”

“It’s truly moot. My point is that nobody is going to come bail you out, and since Hammel is on recess for two weeks, most of my other friends are scattered to the four corners of the globe.”

“They have to let us out for arraignment.”

“And since it’s Saturday, that’s two days away.”

“You need more friends.”

“What color is the kettle, Josh?”

A pause. “I don’t want to call my mother.”

“The last thing I want to do is cut your mother’s visit with your sister short. We’re not going to call your mother.”

“I don’t think we know anyone else.”

“Then we’ll have to sit tight for two days.”

There was a pause. “What if you made them let us out?”

“I thought that was illegal.”

“I’m worried about Nina. What if they hurt her because she’s obviously meta and is currently a chicken?”

“They’re not going to hurt her. Do you think this is the first time she’s been arrested?”

“It isn’t? Why would she have been arrested before?”

“It’s both a long story and not really any of your business. All I mean is that she can take care of herself, and the police here know to give her a bit of a wide berth.”

“Does she have any friends that might bail us out?”

“Willow is in Japan with Emiko.”

“Doesn’t she have other friends?”

“We’re about it.”

“I’m not willing to give up.”

“We can either wait, or you can ask for permission to call Cobalt and see if he’ll come home early to bail you out of jail.”

“He’d bail both of us out.”

“He’d bail you out. Then you can bail me out. I have the money in my safe deposit box. You know where the key is.”

“Are you still keeping the bail fund?”

“Yes. And since we obviously still need it, I made the right decision.”

They were interrupted by an officer arriving with a short man. “I’ll take the tall one, Constable.”

Sean smiled, surprised to see him there. He stepped back, while the officer opened the jail cell, letting him out. “What are you still doing here? You’re supposed to be in Boston.”

“Alan said to beware that I’d have to bail you out of jail today, so I came back early.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“What about me?” Josh inquired, still in the jail cell.

Sean looked at the doctor. “I’ll pay you back for both of us.”

Griff nodded. “I’ll take the other one too.”

“What about Nina?”

At that moment, a black chicken flapped through the hall, and the officer went after her, leaving the door open.

“I guess that means we don’t have to check out properly. Let’s go before they change their minds."

[Levi Xu]

69. Small

"Van, can we talk about something?" He'd been weighing this for a while now, but Levi had finally decided to bring it up. It had to be done.

Of course, Evan was unsuspecting. There was no way he knew that Levi knew, unless Sam had been particularly crap at trying to get unrelated information from him. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

The younger boy flopped down on the couch, next to his best friend. "I know your secret," Levi said, seriously. There wasn't any kind of protocol for this, that he knew of, so he decided to jump right in.

Evan's eyes went wide, but that wasn't unusual for him. He was good at looking startled."W-what secret?"

"I know about you.... You know, who you are." Yes, Levi knew Van was Spider-Man.

"I don't know what you're..." Evan protested, of course. That was what Levi expected. Secret identities were supposed to remain a secret, and here he was, talking about it."Crap."

"I figured you should know I know." Levi blushed a little as he rushed through the rest of it. "I think it's kind of cool." He shouldn't have told him. This was just going to make things awkward.

"You do?" God, Evan could be cute sometimes. Particularly when he looked surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, I understand why you want it to be a secret, but..." Levi shrugged a little and smiled at his best friend. He really did care about Evan, and he did want to support him. "It's not like it makes you weird or anything."

"Really? I was worried you wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore. You know, if you knew."

Though Levi managed to conceal his snort at that, he did have to roll his eyes. "That's kind of a stupid thing to worry about. You're my best friend." (And what teenage boy wouldn't want to be best friends with Spider-Man? Seriously.)

Evan gave him a weak smile, and Levi settled back a bit, happy Evan wasn't freaking out that he knew. "Y-yeah. You're my best friend too. That's why I was scared of losing you."

"You won't." The younger boy shifted a bit, and didn't exactly meet his friend's eyes. He really should have done this sooner, if Evan was scared of that. "I've known for a long time."

"You have? How? Is it obvious?" Van's eyes were wide.

Right, it was supposed to be a secret. And that messed with Levi's head a bit, because he just knew things about people. "Well, you know how my power makes me see people a bit differently? There's that. And you kinda were a little obvious with Spider."

"Hey, a lot guys have cats. That doesn't mean anything."

But they didn't name them Spider...whatever. "I already knew then. But that was just a confirmation, you know?"

"...I guess. I just...I just don't want everyone to know."

Levi winced and looked away again. "I promise, I won't tell anyone else. But Sam does know."

The older boy heaved a sigh and muttered."Dammit."

Levi's face fell. Fuck, he really had screwed this up. "I'm sorry! It was that one time he got me to try pot and then we started talking about you and it just came out!" (Choice words, there. He wasn't even sure if Evan knew he'd gotten high with Sam, and he doubted he would approve.)

"Jesus, Lev." The younger boy shrank back into the couch as his friend continued. "You know he's been harassing me about this?"

"I'll tell him to knock it off, and I made him promise not to tell anyone after I said it." Of course, it was Sam. He had good intentions, but he wasn't brilliant and Levi knew that. Yeah, he'd fucked it up. "I'm really sorry, Van."

But Evan shook his head, "No, it's fine. It's not like it's really your fault."

"I'm sorry anyway." He paused for a moment and thought. Levi was sorry, but this was what the conversation was supposed to be about anyway, "I just want you to know you can be yourself around me." They were best friends. This wasn't going to get in the way.

When Van smiled, it was a weight off of Levi's shoulders. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

He grinned back, beaming because that moment of awkward was over. "So, do you want to go down to dinner now? The cafeteria's open."

"Yeah, okay."

"I just need to grab my coat." Levi got up and headed to his room, but he turned back to the older boy. "And, if you want to, I kind of want to know more, if you want to show me." But if Van had been keeping his spider powers a secret for this long, he obviously wanted them to stay that way, so he rushed to add "But only if you want to."

Evan's face went a little funny, and Levi cocked his head to the side, curious. "Fadjaashaaa..." But then the older boy cleared his throat and continued. "I mean, uh. Y-yeah. I think...yeah. If that's what you want."

Levi grinned at him. "Cool," he said, then ran off to get his coat. It was a relief to have it off his shoulders, and now Van was going to show him his spider powers. That had worked out well.

[Evan Brackett]

68. Large

"Van, can we talk about something?"

Evan had been lost in thought and didn't even notice Levi approach him. It took him a moment to zone back into reality, and when he did he looked up quizzically. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

He grew concerned as the other boy flopped down on the couch next to him and took a deep breath. Apparently this was serious, but he was prepared to hear his friend out, whatever it was he had to say. "I know your secret."

Except that.

Evan immediately tensed. "W-what secret?" There was only one thing the other boy could mean, but Van wanted to be sure.

"I know about you....You know, who you are." In other words, Levi knew he was gay.

He knew this day would come eventually, but the phaser still tried to deny it. "I don't know what you're..." Evan trailed off and sighed as he realized there was no point in pretending he didn't know what Levi was talking about. "Crap." He had imagined confronting the other boy about it, not the other way around

"I figured you should know I know." Levi continued in a rush, "I think it's kind of cool."

Well, Van certainly hadn't heard that one before. "You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, I understand why you want it to be a secret," he said with a smile, "But...It's not like it makes you weird or anything."

"Really? I was worried you wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore. You know, if you knew." Yes, he was aware of how irrational that sounded.

So of course Levi rolled his eyes. "That's kind of a stupid thing to worry about. You're my best friend."

A weak smile played across his lips. "Y-yeah. You're my best friend too. That's why I was scared of losing you."

"You won't," the younger boy assured. "I've known for a long time."

Evan was surprised to hear that and asked in rapid succession, "You have? How? Is it obvious?" There was panic in his eyes.

"Well, you know how my power makes me see people a bit differently? There's that. And you kinda were a little obvious with Spider." The power part made sense, but mentioning Spider was uncalled for.

"Hey," he shot back, slightly offended, "A lot of guys have cats. That doesn't mean anything."

"I already knew then. But that was just a confirmation, you know?"

No, he didn't know, but he figured it was better off to just go with it. "...I guess. I just...I just don't want everyone to know."

He didn't understand why Levi would wince and look away, either. It wasn't like he was everyone. "I promise, I won't tell anyone else." Else? "But Sam does know."

Evan sighed and muttered, "Dammit." This was bad. Sammy was high up on his list of people that absolutely should not to know, particularly not after that incident in the cafeteria.

Levi frowned as he apologized, "I'm sorry! It was that one time he got me to try pot and then we started talking about you and it just came out!"

Evan disapproved of the pot smoking for sure, but he was a bit too distracted by the fact that Levi had told Sam to care at the moment. It meant that Sam already knew the answer to his question when he asked Evan if he liked boys, and he had just been toying with him. Bastard. It was the kind of thing Evan wanted to avoid, and exactly why he kept his sexuality a secret. "Jesus, Lev." Evan rubbed his face as he thought about how to handle this. "You know he's been harassing me about this?"

"I'll tell him to knock it off, and I made him promise not to tell anyone after I said it." That wasn't very reassuring. After all, the older boy had already started to tease him about it. "I'm really sorry, Van."

Evan shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's not like it's really your fault." He was placing the blame on Sam. The pyro had been the one to give Levi pot, and he'd been the one to bother Evan about it. Levi was being nice. Levi cared about his feelings.

Fuck Samuel Rixon.

"I'm sorry anyway." The apology still tugged at Evan's heartstrings. He didn't want Levi to be sorry. After a pause, the younger boy made his point, "I just want you to know you can be yourself around me."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me," he said as his face broke into a smile. Despite Sam being an asshole, Levi knowing his secret wasn't as disastrous as he had feared it'd be. It was a good thing.

"So, do you want to go down to dinner now?" Levi asked with a grin. "The cafeteria's open."

Evan nodded, glad to be free of the awkward. "Yeah, okay."

"I just need to grab my coat." Levi stood up and headed towards his room, but before he got there he turned around to say, "And, if you want to, I kind of want to know more, if you want to show me." Then he quickly added, "But only if you want to."

Evan's mental capacity quickly crashed and all higher brain function ceased. "Fadjaashaaa..." he slurred, as eloquent as ever. He shook his head a little to clear it and coughed. "I mean, uh. Y-yeah. I think...yeah. If that's what you want." Okay, so maybe he wasn't entirely sure what he just agreed to, just that it involved him and Levi and...

Yeah.

Whatever it was, it seemed to make Levi happy. "Cool."

As he bounded off to grab his coat, Evan sat stupefied on the couch, still failing to properly process thought. After a good minute-long delay, he finally jumped up to get his own things. His mind would be wandering for the rest of the night.

[Chase Campbell]

33. Weather

Vanity really had no place in the middle of a Vermont winter.

For the native Southerner, it had had a place. At least until he hadn't been able to shake a cold. Winter boots were lame, and ugly, and he was not going to subject himself to that all winter long. James had failed to see his points.

"Love, you're going to catch cold if you keep going out there in sneakers. What is so terrible about buying boots?"

"I'm fine," the blond had responded, trying to hide the shivering. "I'm not cold, I don't need goddamn winter boots."

Vanity really, really didn't have a place in the middle of a Vermont winter.

Chase was miserable. The cold had been bad. The chest infection that had followed (because he had insisted that he was fine, it was just a cold, who really needed to see a doctor about a cold?) had been worse. Not that it had stopped him from doing anything other than complaining about the weather, and feeling ill.

That was exactly why James had dragged him to the doctor three hours ago, calling him all kinds of names as he did so. How could his boyfriend be so thick? He hadn't taken care of himself, despite all James' warnings and suggestions.

So, really, it was the blond's own fault that he had pneumonia now. It was his own fault that James had bundled him up in blankets and ordered him to stay in bed. Despite his exasperation at Chase's behavior, he couldn't help but play nurse now. It was natural to him.

"Chase, lie down." He came in bearing water, only to catch his partner sitting up looking bored.

"I can't. I'm not tired anymore. Can't I rest downstairs? Then you won't have to keep coming upstairs to make sure I'm still alive." James rolled his eyes and set the water on the nightstand, pressing his hand against Chase's chest to force him back down.

"No. You are going to stay in bed, like the doctor said. If you're downstairs, you'll be moving around and watching television and not resting." Technically, he had a point. Several points.

"I'm bored. And lonely."

"And sick because you were too stubborn to take care of yourself. I'll bring Milo up for you. Go back to sleep."

"Jaaaaaaaaames."

"Chase, you're an adult. Don't whine." Despite the phrase sounding harsh, James still had an affectionate smile on his face. "Just go back to sleep and get better."

Chase wanted to protest. He wanted to crawl out of bed and sprawl out on the couch downstairs. He wanted to stop feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. But, he listened. He snuggled back under the covers and forced himself to relax. He could have used his ability to make James stop babying him, but he knew his partner was right. The more he rested now, the faster he'd recover.

He didn't even stir when Milo was placed on the bed, the purring kitten snuggling up against him.

"James, where the hell are my sneakers?" Chase had nearly torn apart the front closet. No sneakers. There were, however, a pair of black boots. New black winter boots. He had a sinking feeling he knew what they were for.

"You're not wearing them in the snow, Chase. Wear your boots." James was wearing a smug look on his face.

"You're a real bastard, you know that, James?"

"Yeah. I get that a lot. Wear the boots."

[Terrance Asher]

To keep Jammy happy. Ish done, but not edited for grammar errors. I shall do that laters, so be warned if you reads it right now.

19. Groan

A moan escaped Evie’s lips as Terrance’s body pressed against his. The younger boy’s back was pushed against the shelves holding cleaning supplies in the small janitor closet. Not the best place for a make out session, but it was the only on available to them that gave the two any privacy. The small room smelt of bleach and ammonia but not strongly enough for it to both either of the two males. Even if it had been the two used the closet as their secret meeting spot to steal a few seconds with each other so often that they had become immune to it.
Ry’s hand roamed all over the taller teen’s boy as they deepened the kiss.

The older boy led a trail of kisses down Ryne’s jaw to his collar bone. His lips broke the trail of kisses and moved to pull off the shorter boy’s shirt. Terrance started to trail kisses down the younger boy’s chest. He could feel Ryne shiver as he did so.

Yes, this was just the stress relief the two needed after moaning and groaning about tests all week. This was their first chance to do anything even close to intimate with each other, and not their text books that they had been sleeping with day and night for the past five or so days.

The closet door squeaked open inch by inch. Slowly light seeped into the small dark room. Terr took no notice until he heard Evie groan and stop kissing him back. Terrance sent a glare in the younger brunette’s direction when he realized that it was Zac who had interrupted the two. The kid always found new ways to bug them, Ryne more than himself; new ways that never seem to end.

“What do you want,” Terrance growled at the younger boy.

“Nothing at all,” the youngest one said as he stepped into the cramped space. He had a smug look on his face, so Terrance new the newcomer was up to something. “I just wanted see what all the noise was about.” His feet moved swiftly, allowing him to place himself between the two childhood friends. He gave a sly smirk as he glanced back and forth between the two older boys. “And I also wanted to do this –” Zac’s hand grabbed Evie’s chin pulling the only non arrogant person in the room’s face towards him. He lips crashed down onto the blonde’s stealing a kiss.

Within the second both Ryne and Terrance pushed and pulled, respectively, Zac off of Ryne. Gray eyes glared daggers at the Prince.

“What? Why can’t I join in the fun?” Zac was forging innocents like he had no clue what he had done wrong and had been merely trying to have fun.

Terrance let out a frustrated groan. “No, now get out!” His finger pointed towards the exit that was still left wide open.

“I don’t think you want to be so mean to me or tell me to leave.” The boy pulled out a few pictures from his pocket. Ryne’s eyes widen as he saw that it was pictures of him and Terrance making out, among other things.

The gray eyed boy pulled at the hem of Terrance’s shirt like a child telling and adult to do something about the situation.

An angry sigh left Terrance’s lips. “Fine,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I thought that would change you mind.” Zac let out a mocking laugh as he closed the door once again.

[Dr. James Campbell]

94. Wrong

"So, who are these guys, again?" Cobalt stuck his hands into his pockets as he followed his partner. The late afternoon was nice; August was a good time in Pilot Ridge. "And why are we going to their house?"

"Ben works in the office. He's a psychologist, but sometimes they do mix with the physical therapists." Chase turned and grinned at him. "He lives with his partner--who works at Hammel, by the way--and they invited us over for a barbecue. So be nice to them."

"I am nice."

"Yeah." Chase reached over and pulled the older man's hand out of his pocket, then twined their fingers together. "Whatever you say, Coby."

***

The rain was unexpected--though not really surprising. They were close to Hammel, after all--so it was in the living room of the small house where James and Cobalt were arguing fiercely.

Ben brought Chase another beer and shook his head. "Sorry. I probably should have warned you that James was a recruiter." He opened his own bottle and took a long pull from it, then grinned, "Though I'm not entirely sure what they're fighting about."

"Don't worry. Cobalt just likes to argue about it. He's probably happy that he has someone smart to fight with." Chase raised his bottle in a sarcastic salute, then drank some himself. "Hey, who is the girl in all the pictures?"

"Jamie's daughter, Ginny. She's eighteen now, and was actually pretty okay with her dad having a boyfriend." Ben pointed to one of the many framed photos of her and them. "She's going to college up here next year to be closer to him."

"That should be nice," Chase said. He and Cobalt had discussed kids once, a while ago. They were happy with each other, and kids--if ever--were going to be a while away. Of course, Coby was ten years older than him, and it bothered him a lot more than it bothered Chase. "You two are scary are almost scary domestic."

"Really?"

"House, kid, I bet you do dishes together." Chase grinned. "Not the kind of thing you see a lot where I'm from; it's nice to see."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "That's Arizona, right?"

"Yeah." Chase nodded. "But I've been in Pilot Ridge about half my life now. It's home."

"Yeah--" But Ben's comment was cut off by the light in the living room appearing to go out, and Cobalt shouting.

"It's unconstitutional! It's kidnapping! And another thing..."

"It's in their best interests! Training has a substantial effect, even if their powers aren't dangerous. It'll keep them from...I don't know using their powers as a method of intimidation during an argument."

"Ah," Chase said, putting down his beer. "I think that might be our cue to go." He got up and headed over to where Cobalt sat, looking ready to slug the man in the glasses. "Hey, we should probably be going."

It was obvious that he was just trying to end the argument, but Cobalt stood anyway. "Okay, Chase." (Ben was nice, but James had an irrational loyalty towards their alma mater.) "It was...interesting, meeting you."

"You too." James put out his hand, and they shook, warily. "Come back anytime. I'll convince you yet."

"Don't count on it."

***

That night, as they got into bed, Cobalt was still talking about how wrong James was. "I can't believe a father would ever become a recruiter."

"He thinks it's the right thing." Chase wrapped his arms around his partner, smiling. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah, I guess. Ben's nice."

"So was James."

"Yeah. Sure."

[Jesse Adams]

With many, many thanks to the wonderful Sean, for helping me with his half of the dialogue. Thanks Dad. <3

~

46. Road

Things hadn’t worked out the way Lala and Reese had planned. Kilbourne had been too strong, and he’d brought too many comrades. The fight had been messy, and had ended abruptly. The young memory manipulator had been in the middle of it all, gun in hand. And then, he’d been frozen. Unable to raise his gun. Unable to do anything. With blood and the bodies of those that had failed their final mission all around, he had ended up captured along with Levi and Fiona. ‘Students,’ they had said. ‘They belong at Hammel.’

It had been just over a month since the young blond had been brought back to the Hammel Institute. Under a strict watch by staff, limited to the grounds of the school, and biweekly sessions with Sean, the teenager was miserable. For the first few days, had he had access to his gun, to bullets, he would have put one to his head.

... Funny, Sean hadn’t seemed amused by that notion.

He glanced at the clock, knowing it was almost time for his meeting with the psychiatrist. If he was late, they’d send someone to retrieve him. He’d already experimented with that manoeuvre. It was more painless to just go, and get it over with. It wasn’t like he was making progress, anyway. There were things he would talk about, and things he wouldn’t. He would talk about MSAD, and their goals, their work. But he would draw the line at Gabriel. He still mourned over his mentor, and it wasn’t something he was going to easily let go of.

With a listless sigh, he dragged himself off of his bed and navigated the hallways, down to Sean’s office. He knew the older man was expecting him. This was routine now. He just pushed the door open and curled up on the couch, all without meeting Sean’s eyes. “I’m here.”

The psychiatrist's arm was no longer in a sling, but he still had pain in the shoulder. It was a small price to pay for getting out of that otherwise unscathed. As were the sessions with Jesse; he was determined to help the young man get past this. Despite not being a religious man, he embraced the notion of redemption. "So I see. How were classes?"

Jesse twitched and looked up, but still didn’t make full eye contact. “Fine. I’m getting B’s. And an A in German.” The fact that it had been one the few things Gabriel had taught him that he’d actually liked was something he kept to himself. A tiny look of guilt passed over the teenager’s face as his gaze trailed the psychiatrist. “How’s your shoulder?”

"Healing nicely." That was true, and his last visit with Ethan confirmed that. "I took German when I was a student here. You have a better teacher than I did."

That made Jesse squirm. The thought of teachers, any teachers, bothered him now. He couldn’t help but relate back to his ‘teachers’ at the compound, and his thoughts reflected that. His walls, so strong before, were nearly gone now. He just couldn’t keep up mental shields anymore. “That’s good. About your arm.” Not about the teachers. “Can we not talk about teachers?”

The psychiatrist heard the discomfort in the boy's thoughts, although he didn't need telepathy to see the physical manifestations. He would add that to the list for now. "Very well. How have you been sleeping?"

More questions Jesse didn’t want to answer, but he’d force himself. The less he fought, the less painful the whole ordeal was. He shrugged and picked at a thread on his jeans. “I haven’t been,” he admitted. The dark circles under his eyes attested to that. “I can’t.” If he closed his eyes, the nightmares came. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was his power backfiring, or something else.

Sean had expected that, to a degree. But the telepath didn't like hearing it. The human mind could only take so many days without sleep. "I could write you a prescription." Jesse twitched, glancing away again.

“No. No drugs. I’m fine.” Sean remained unconvinced.

“How many days has it been?”

“Since I slept a whole night?”

"We can start with that. And you can tell me how many hours you average at night, if any." Jesse had to think about that for a moment, averaging it out.

".... Two weeks. But it wasn't so much sleeping as it was passing out. Maybe three a night, if I'm lucky. I'm fine." He was going to keep insisting.

"You can't keep that up. While I understand why you wouldn't want medication, it's in your best interest to consider it." No. Jesse wouldn’t ‘consider’ it. It just wasn’t going to happen, period.

“No. If I sleep, I’ll dream, and if I dream… I can’t handle it. Please don’t make me.” The sincerity of the ‘please’ was tangible. He didn’t want to dream, because he knew what would happen. Memories of him would come back.

"There are medications for that," he said. Although he understood. Trauma made dreams miserable, atop the nature of Jesse's powers. He had never considered that drugs would keep his dreams in check. But he didn't want to back down. Not now. He shook his head.

"No. I don't want to knock myself out, and I don't want to remember." He knew what his dreams would bring him. Memories. Gabriel. Sean was undeterred.

"Eventually, you'll have to sleep, and it will be better for you not to crash." This was grating on Jesse’s nerves. As good as he was trying to be, this was getting them nowhere.

“Shut up. I know.” He couldn’t help the snappy remarks. He was tired of going in circles, and he wanted to be back in his dorm. Alone.

“You don’t have to be hostile,” the psychiatrist reminded the teenager. Jesse just shot him a look.

“Yeah, I do. Do we have to talk about this?”

"Since it's a medical matter and I'm your psychiatrist, yes, but I'm willing to put it off for now if you're willing to discuss something deeper than than the weather." This was what Jesse had been afraid of. Though he’d divulged information about MSAD, there were still things he refused to talk about.

“… Like what?”

"You tell me." Sean's request was open, allowing the young man a bit of leeway. Jesse frowned, not fully trusting him. He pulled his arms across his chest.

“Not him.” The look on his face, and his surface thoughts, made it clear who he meant. “I’ll talk about anything else.” There was a small part of him that wanted to deal with his issues with his dead mentor. But he was stubborn, and he felt like addressing the issues would make him lose Gabriel forever. He wasn’t willing to let that happen.

Sean understood, because he had been quite close to his own trainer, his mentor. Of course, the mere thought of Robert in the same sentence as Gabriel Underwood turned his stomach. But he did understand Jesse's feelings for the dead man. And he was sure he could get at them with a bit of creative prodding, but not at this moment. "What are your long term plans?"

For the first time, Jesse actually thought about his answer. He didn’t toss out defensive sarcasm, because… he couldn’t. So much of his future had rested with MSAD. With Gabe. His bravado faltered as he twisted his hands together. “I… I don’t know.” Even before MSAD, he hadn’t known. With Gabe, he’d had a future. Now, he was just lost. He didn’t know what to do. He lifted his head, letting his gaze finally lock with the psychiatrists. “I don’t know.”

Although the boy had no actual plans, this was progress because they now had an avenue of discussion. "Do you plan to go to college?" Again, Jesse didn’t know. It was like anything he’d ever planned for had been lost after his introduction into MSAD.

“I don’t know. I’m not good at anything.” He had the money to go to university, if he wanted to. He just didn’t know what to do, what to study, if he did. He didn’t know what ‘real’ job he could do. Being a criminal had just been so… easy. Sean wasn’t buying it.

"You're getting an A in German and Bs in your other classes. That's definitely college worthy." On the couch, Jesse shifted in discomfort.

“Maybe. But I don’t know what to study. What I want for a job.” He just knew the things he wanted to avoid. Like being a lawyer.

"That's what college is for. You have the time to figure out what you want to do with your life while going through your studies. Few schools expect you to have that planned out when you first get there." Jesse frowned. That was what college was for?

“Really?”

"Yes. When I was in college, a friend of mine came in as an engineer and decided he wanted to study English. He teaches at Cornell now." Jesse sat up a little, slightly more interested in the conversation now. It was something he’d never really considered. All he’d ever wanted was to be far away from his father, and being part of MSAD had allowed for that. But maybe this could work too.

“… They’d take a screw up like me?” Sean actually cracked a little smile.

"You have time to turn your life around. If you didn't, I would encourage you to go to class. And then it's a matter of schools. Some even encourage free spirits." Now Jesse was thinking about it. He could go to school. Get a job. Do something.

In the back of his mind, he registered that Gabriel would be disappointed in him if he went down that road.

And now he didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll… think about it.”

"Good." The telepath's smile was genuine at that. Jesse had the potential to go far in life if he was willing to work at it. Jesse himself wasn’t so sure about that. He had a lot of things at war in his mind now. Past promises to dead mentors, and new possibilities.

It was giving him a headache. “Are we done for today?” God, he hoped so. The psychiatrist glanced at his watch. They still had a few minutes left, but considering the progress Jesse had made, he was willing end early. "Yes, we are. I'll see you in three days."

The teenager pulled himself off the couch, pausing by the door for a moment. He mulled over a few things to say, but none of them seemed right. Thanks, he thought briefly, before slamming the door behind him.

He had a reputation to maintain.

[Cobalt Weaver]

45. Highlight

Cobalt shuffled home with a tired sigh. Work. Sucked. He was usually okay with his job—working as a legal associate was pretty okay—but having a boss sucked and will probably continue to suck forevermore. Fighting with coworkers was also not enjoyable. But probably his fault. This time.

He looked up the driveway at the little yellow house, and a crooked, tired smile grew across his lips. It was a cute house, a little uncharacteristic of him, but it was so very Elaine that they really couldn’t resist. It even had a picket fence. And a garden that Cobalt was unfortunately very terrible at maintaining. He nearly tripped on the red tricycle that was hidden half in the dark. He sighed again, rubbing his sore knee. At least he hadn’t fallen over. The day had been terrible enough without physical injury on top of it.

When he pushed open the door, he was instantly washed over with warmth and the smell of what seemed to be lasagna for dinner. Cobalt had only just managed to kick off his shoes with a sigh when he heard the sound of frantically running footsteps.

“DAD!!” Morgan grinned broadly, taking the opportunity to run straight into Cobalt’s side, wrapping his nine year old arms around the older man, nearly knocking him over.

“Whoop!” Cobalt stumbled, but caught himself, briefly lifting Morgan up to spin him around before setting him down and giving him a hug. “Hey, bud. How was school?”

“Good!” Morgan chirped, hanging off of Cobalt’s side, “I learned how to times-tables, and long division and learned some stuff about Vermont and… and I found a frog during lunchtime and Momma still won’t let me get a puppy can we please get a puppy pleeeaaassee?” Morgan fixed his wide, imploring eyes at Cobalt, and the older man was stumbling for a way to say “no”.

“Morgy…” Elaine’s amused voice came to Cobalt’s rescue. She was smiling lightly, backlit by the light of the living room. Their six-month-old daughter was dozing in Elaine’s arms. “What did I say? Don’t pester your father about puppies. The answer is no for now. Now go put the forks on the table.”

When Morgan skipped away, Elaine shot Cobalt an exasperated grin before walking over and kissing him on the cheek. Cobalt wrapped his arms around her, careful not to jostle the baby in her arms. “You’re such a pushover.” She teased.

Cobalt grinned, “I’m only a pushover for three people in the world.” Gingerly, he plucked their daughter from Elaine’s arms and kissed her forehead. “Hey, Lily.” Cobalt smiled at the dozing baby. She opened her little blue eyes drowsily, and waved a chubby hand in her father’s direction. Elaine grinned, “She’s missed her daddy all day. She has your petulance.”

Cobalt snorted, “Thank god she got everything else from her momma.”

Elaine laughed, “So how was work?” She walked into the dining room where Morgan was setting down silverware.

Cobalt sighed, smiling lightly and shifting Lily’s weight in his arms. “Honestly? This is the highlight of my day.”

[Ann Hudgins]

100. Insult

Cramp.

One of those hot cramps that bend you forward and sideways. It'd came out of nowhere, while she was walking to her training session. Alex was still talking about the fight Kali had to break up in the middle of her bar last night that he had been unlucky enough to witness. Ann had been interested in it, because according to Alex, these boys knew how to fight. Now that Ann was able to actually touch people, starting up at a martial arts studio would be....awesome.

Then the cramp attacked and she had doubled over, Alex hadn't seen and kept walking, though now he paused and looked over his shoulder. A question was half formed when he saw her pained expression. "Is everything OK? Is it your power," he asked. Ann let out a slow breath to hopefully ease the pain because it really hurt, but it didn't really help. She groaned a little.

"Bathroom. Need the bathroom," she managed to hiss out while she shuffled towards the bathroom in the hallway (thank god it was close by), and stumbled into the bathroom.

Yep. She thought so.

....Well shit. She didn't carry products with her, because her usual constant stress levels kept her monthly meeting a bay, she hadn't had one....since like July of last year. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked around the bathroom stall. She could run to her dorm, steal one from her roommate or run to the clinic. Each was about the same distance from here. Only.... bzzzzzzzz. bzzzzzzz. She scrabbled for her phone out of her pocket to see it was an incoming call. From Alex.

"Ann?" He sounded so worried.

"I'm fine," she snapped before she realized the anger in her voice, "I...I'm just cramping. From...well..." She probably couldn't be more red if she was sunburned.

"Oh...uhm.....oh! Do...do you need anything?"

"No!" She couldn't help but snap, out of sheer embarrassment. But who was she kidding. She couldn't run with her thighs squeezed together all the way across the campus--and she didn't have any spare underwear or money to get replacements, should a pair be ruined. She did need help. "I...could you get....a teacher....a lady teacher?"

"Yeah, no problem." Call ended, Ann hit her head on the stall wall next to her and groaned. What a way to start the day.

------

Jean was out with friends, Reeve was wherever he went when he left his room. It was Ann and Alex watching TV. Thanks to the PMS pills that had been graciously donated to Ann's predicament, she wasn't in as much pain as she had been in a few hours ago. She sighed a little as her lower tummy squirmed. She hated this. She didn't miss it one bit.

"Everything...okay?" Alex asked, noticing she shifted her position, again. She glared at him for a moment. He was so lucky. So damn lucky he didn't have to feel this.

"No. It's not okay! This really freakin' hurts," she groaned and curled her feet up tighter beneath her and pulled the pillow on her stomach a little tighter. She wasn't allowed to take any more of the pills for another six hours, but they were already wearing off.

"I..urm...sorry. Wouldn't you be used to it, by now though?" He was blushing, and Ann could feel that he was just trying to help. But no she wasn't used to it!

"I can see how you'd think that," sarcasm dripped like venom, she leaned out of the warmth of his side to look at him, a slight glare about her face, 'The only good thing my power actually did for me these past three years was keep me so fucking stressed I didn't have a period! And now that I have control, my body thinks it has to throw all the pain I missed out on into this fucking one! So no I am not 'used to it by now!" So mean, and totally not fair to Alex. Ann knew (deep down) that she was being mean, but her hormones were like a dragon that just wanted to breathe fire.

"Oh...Uhm...Do you want me to...go?" Alex turned sideways, the awkwardness level leaking out of him started to dampen her misguided hatred of her power.

"Probably a good idea." She bit her lips because of how that sounded. She didn't want him to go, because she enjoyed hanging with him, but she also really didn't want him to see her like this. She was being really stupid, but she couldn't help it! It was like in her mind she knew she was being unreasonable, but she still couldn't help the words coming out of her mouth. She grabbed his arm as he started to lift up.

"Sorry! I'm sorry." She tugged him back to sit down, and nudged her regret towards him, just so he could feel it. His eyes widened faintly. He still wasn't really used to her using her powers so easily, but all her training really was paying off, and it wasn't hard at all for her to do. He rubbed the side of his face. He felt sorry and wanted to help her, but didn't know how. Ann leaned back into him, and winced when another cramp started to wreak havoc.

"Fuuh-ck," she whined. Alex took her hand hesitantly and looked sadly at her. She felt bad. "I'll be quite. It just sucks. It hurts. Like my stomach is on fire and a bunch of nails are jumping around, stabbing things." She tried to get what it felt like into words, but she didn't feel like she quite got it.

"I know what that feels like," he replied softly. Normally, Ann would look at him and wonder what made him say that, but at the moment, she irrationally felt he was just saying that to agree with her to make the situation better, which just flared her temper.

"Bull shit! You're a boy! All you have to put up with is a bit of a warbly voice for a week until your balls drop, then you get old like a fucking cake walk!" Her frustration was once again misdirected, and she should probably duct tape her mouth shut. "It's not fair! It's not fair!"

Ann actually felt his temper flare. She wouldn't have noticed, if she wasn't an empath because his expression or posture didn't change. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ann. Maybe take a bath, or something to calm down." He practically ran out the door.

"Owhhoowww," She slide sideways on the couch until she face planted. This really sucked now.

[Ryne Caliban]

83. Car

"...ran a red light, hitting your husband's car from the driver side."

Mason Caliban looked at his car. It was old, used, and beat up. The white paint was chipped in various places, and rust started to form near the bumpers. But it ran, and that was all he needed. He needed something to get him to and from work everyday, after all, he had a wife, a young daughter, and an almost preteen son to look after. Sighing, he opened the heavy metal door, got inside and slammed it shut. Lunch break could not have come sooner. It was only noon and the day was already long. He was hungry, and fast food seemed to be the only option at this point. It was cheap and it was quick.

The seats were uncomfortable, but again, it was a small price to pay. With the key in hand, Mason placed it in the ignition slot. With a turn of the wrist, the car stuttered and stalled. It wasn't uncommon for the old car to do such a thing. He just had to let it sit for a minute or so, then try again. It always tended to work after that. Mason looked at the broken radio of his car. It was missing the knob that adjusted the volume, and the knob that tuned it was split straight down the middle. Small price to pay. Sighing again, the older man turned the key in the ignition. Lo and behold, the car started to Mason's lack of amazement.

Mason was always a safe driver, never got a ticket in his life. He always put the safety brake on when he parked. He always wore his seat belt. He always checked his rear view mirror before backing out. He always came to a complete stop when required. He was always cautious. He never did anything that he wasn't supposed to do. He never went over the assigned speed limit, much to the dismay of those behind him. Nor did he ever pull any illegal U-turns. He couldn't afford getting a ticket. Insurance was expensive enough, without adding more to it. Plus the fine for whatever illegal action it was would have been overkill. But even as cautious as Mason Caliban was, he couldn't control the other drivers.

Red light means stop, green light means go. It was simple. Mason's gray-eyes glanced left and right checking for oncoming cars. It was clear. With the green light telling it was okay to proceed, he accelerated, slowly pushing his foot on the gas.

"The car behind his was not able to stop in time."

Everything was surreal for a moment. How could something be so fast, yet so slow at the same time? The impact shattered all the windows, each shard glimmering in the sunlight like it were snow. Mason could only watch as each piece drifted through the air. The airbags didn't even deploy. If the man had the time, he would have probably laughed and said. "Doesn't surprise me." But he didn't. Another impact came from behind him, sending his body forward with a jerk. Before he could hit the windshield, the seat belt held him back securely. He couldn't feel any pain. He just felt empty. Time was slow. In a matter of milliseconds, Mason Caliban was able to comprehend that he was going to die. There was no way around it. Perhaps if his car started the first time, or maybe if it stalled again he could have avoided this fate. But as luck would have it, he wasn't so lucky.

One last final thought of his family passed through the man's mind. Before everything faded to nothing, he let out a silent goodbye.

"We can only hope that his death was instant, and there was as little pain as possible." Ryne wanted to cry more, but his tears had all but dried out. He knew his father was gone, but finding out how he died...that was just as, if not even more so painful. From that moment on, Ryne hated cars.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

occ: This is NOT canon, this is VERY AU, and I have taken liberties with Team Good Guys. The actions and behaviours expressed by characters in this story in no way reflect my own etc etc.
apologises to Tony, Mads, Jammers, Feddy, Pryyce, Sean... ah, everyone? Also Nu

80. Final

It had started as self defense.

Anastasia looked away as Ivan yanked the butterfly knife up and out, the tiles turning slippery and steaming. The body melted, broad shoulders narrowing, spine shrinking and short dark hair growing long and sleek as Ivan’s doppleganger morphed back to a petite asian woman, blood slicking her lips.

”Hammel,” Ivan spat, wiping his blade on the still breathing intruder, then looked up at Eva. ”Are you alright?”

Anastasia wiped her hand over her face, trying to get rid of any compromising evidence. ”She looked just like you,” the heiress muttered under her breath, ”felt different though. I’m fine.” With a somewhat shaky smile she stepped daintily over the now still body and grasped his hand, ignoring the blood. <reassure/safe/shakenbutsafe>

He pulled her close and she folded, shaking her head. ”She attacked us. In our house. In our home.” The fear she’d felt when what she thought was Ivan had stumbled bloody and broken into the living room and grasped at her ankles was washing away in a flood of fury. Ivan was tense with it, eyes still wary. Anastasia shook her head; it was just them. For now. Once they found out about this, though... they would send more. They’d be caught. Ivan would be taken back to Russia to the monsters with needles and knives...

”Eva?” Ivan asked, <concern> and Anastasia realised she’d started shivering.

”They’ll be back,” she said simply. They had two options; fight or flight. With cold eyes Anastasia studied the body on the floor; no trace of Ivan left in it. When she’d seen him die (that bitch had made her live him dying) she had wanted to destroy. Looking up, the small woman felt steel <determination/keephersafe/fury> and nodded. ”They attacked us. That will not happen again.”

It took planning, of course. They’d be demolished if they tried to take out the entire staff body in one swoop... but individually....

***

There was a team of staff who made up the school’s vigilante fighting force. They got the names; not every Hammel teacher was loyal to the institution, which Anastasia had found out.

”This had better work,” the blind woman muttered as she handed Anastasia a bundle of files. Schedules, local haunts, everything needed to start picking off targets. ”If you fuck up, I am not going down with you.”

Anastasia sniffed and tucked the papers away. ”We didn’t except you to, Honor.” Money exchanged hands quickly and the two women parted.

***

Campbell was easy. No fighting experience. Impossible to sneak up on but it was so easy to keep any panic from him until the last moment. The street he lived of was quiet, Chase was out with their brat, and Anastasia slipped inside behind him, her hand on his wrist. ”Hello, James,” Eva said softly, <calm/quiet/listen>. ”I’ve been dying to have a chat with you.”

So much self doubt and weakness there already; too easy to let it grow, eat up any sense of worth. Too easy to suggest how to make it stop. He had cried, had fought, but she had pushed, twisted, held on tight as she cried with him and stroked his hair as his defenses folded. Psychic shields meant nothing to her; Anastasia had little interest in people’s minds.

She waited patiently outside the bathroom until the thrashing stopped, looked in at the hanging man (so familiar, just like before,) then she closed the door with a snap.

Ivan was waiting outside, spinning matching knives as he paced the deck. In the living room they waited as Eva grasped his hand and let his <resolve> wash away the <hopelessness/sadness/despair> she was still cultivating.

Eva held off the numbing pills she would need once the backlash hit her; she would need to be able to utilize every single dip and rise soon enough.

***

”Nikki, we wipe our feet when we go into the hou-” Chase’s mild scolding cut off mid word as he pushed open the door. He yanked Nikki back towards him by the back of his jacket, ignore the child’s protests.

Eva didn’t bother getting up from the couchbut she did smile at Nikki, <open/trust/nicelady>, and was given a shy smile in return. Ivan stared blankly from his position against the wall, expression unreadable. ”Hello Kilbourne,” she said pleasantly, drawing away enough of his panic that the mind dominator wasn’t prompted to do anything rash. ”You’re home early.”

”Where’s James,” the blonde man snapped, and his <fear/anger> made the heiress tense her shoulders. Slowly, one hand rising to her temple for a moment as she stood, Anastasia smiled with her teeth. ”You’ll see him soon enough.”

Chase scowled and narrowed his eyes and Anastasia felt her muscles freeze even as she felt him concentrate. Still, she didn’t need to move to sense him, and to let her built up onslaught hit. Both mental metas were silent as she pushed the <anguish> she’d felt as she’d pushed the will to live from Kilbourne’s husband and let it unfurl and burrow into his mind. But it was not enough...

It did not have to be. Silently, even as Nikki screamed, Ivan yanked Chase’s head back and slit his throat. Anastasia winced as blood sprayed her, and shot an annoyed look at the now crying Nikki. Her head was throbbing, felt like it would split and spray raw emotion to mingle with the red life force soaking into the carpet.

”We’re done here,” she said softly, then held out her arms and let Ivan lift her up. ”I’m tired.” Neither spared so much as a glance at the child shaking the still warm body, screaming for him to wake up.

Effortlessly, Ivan swept Anastasia up as she brought her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, swallowing two little white pills to let her sleep.

There was still work to be done.

***

Anastasia was left to rage and sob in their room while Ivan continued. Her system purged itself of the poison that had seeped through her when she’d let it flood the systems of Campbell and Kilbourne. When he returned, hands red, Eva had been herself again and moaned about the loss of another Amani shirt as she tutted over gashes on his shoulder and asked how on earth human hair had managed to inflict that.

Ivan had only shrugged as he’d wiped his knives clean, muttering something about not expecting to need to cut so much hair to reach a throat.

Anastasia just smirked and found a new, darker shirt. She’d never liked science classes anyway.

***

Romanov and Thornton proved to be a little more... defiant. Ivan had tackled Romanov; Thornton was no less physically durable but he had no military training, and a very young child at his home...

Their first mistake was thinking it would only take one of them. Anastasia had bolted from the car when she felt the <concentration/empty/hate> that filled Ivan when he was fighting spike into something more. Romanov was panting, but unmarked. Ivan was crouched, mouth bloody as he scowled darkly. He <felt> Anastasia creep in, and lunged at the head of hammel security again, without moving him so much as an inch. Still, it was distraction enough as Anastasia took <protect/righteousness/somethingdarkandjaggared> and warped it, pulled it, <stop/giveup/hopeless>. He fought it off, as any military man is taught to, but it left him open. Ivan had his hands around his throat in an instant, squeezing with slow, even pressure.

Anastasia waited until Romanov’s eyes were glassy and his tongue swollen and black before she let herself dig her nails into his face. He could bleed. Ivan grasped her wrist and shook his head, then sighed with resignation as she started wiping the blood off his face with her handkerchief.

The duo learnt from their mistakes; when John arrived home was greeted by Anastasia reading a story to Addie. She’d looked up and smiled, smoothing her hair behind her ear then combing her fingers through the young girl’s curls. ”You’re new, aren’t you?” she said, not without sympathy. ”I recommend you close your eyes, and think of England.”

He was a man not used to fear, Anastasia could tell. She was happy to change that for him. His daughter was calm enough, though she cried quietly when Ivan began dragging John towards the kitchen. The englishman could take a hit, and knives would bend against him like tinfoil but he wasn’t a fighter himself.

Ivan drowned him in the sink. It took longer then expected.

***

Yulia was too dangerous to engage in direct combat; Ivan refused to let Anastasia near her. They picked her off as she left the house. The first shot clipped her shoulder, the second sunk into her chest. She didn’t explode. It was mildly anticlimactic.

Ivan let Anastasia shoot Clarisse, his hands guiding hers as he showed her how to aim with the scope lens. She lent against him as he braced them both for the recoil, one arm around her waist. His hand had crept under her blouse, warm against her stomach. Closing one eye and peering through the crosshairs, Anastasia lent forward and pressed her finger against the trigger.

It was very, very satisfying.

What was even more satisfying was the look on Dalton’s face when he found the body. They didn’t shoot him; the pair had had a brief disagreement about just who would be the one to dispatch the hydrokenetic.

”Jake,” Anastasia purred, even as Ivan took his time with his knives. ”you never met Ivan, did you? I’m sorry I took so long to introduce you,”. Ivan broke another finger and the English professor cried out. Anastasia eased away from the <rage/jealousy/hate> that had been building inside Ivan since his return as the large man could finally work out his frustrations. Manipulating water took concentration, and between the pair of them, the Russians made sure Dalton’s full attention was on them.

The floor was slick by the time Ivan finished, and the heiress muttered something about loosing another pair of jimmy choos. Her partner had just shrugged, smiling slightly, and kissing her possessively as the sound of dripping continued persistently.

***

”You made a mistake,” the blonde woman said with obvious disapproval as she sat, long legs crossed, in Sean Neville’s living room. The telepath was still woozy from the blow to the head Ivan had doled out as soon as the psychiatrist had opened his front door. His own abilities had sensed someone inside, but Anastasia had kept him calm enough to enter without sounding an alarm.

Shadow-dark hands had him pinned to his chair, but even semi conscience his mind pressed against Anastasia’s with considerable force.

”You should have left us alone,” the woman went on, eyes flashing. ”We were done with you. We weren’t interested. It could have ended,” she sneered, her beautiful face warping with disgust. ”I had expected better; one of you had the stones to kill Underwood but after that, you let them go. We don’t make mistakes like that.”

Rising to her feet, she strode forward and bent at the waist, her face proud and cold as Ivan came to stand behind her. ”You attacked me, in my home, without warning. This is your consequence.” Straightening, she felt the heavy comfort of a large hand on her narrow shoulder and covered it with one of her own. ”I remember you from when I was at Hammel,” the empath went on softly. ”You didn’t like me. I could tell. You never knew why though. Intuition, I suppose.”

For a moment Anastasia stilled, closing her eyes. Ivan was there against her, warm on her back as she reached forward and grasped Sean’s hand. ”You always wanted to know what was going on in people’s heads. Here,” she lowered her barriers and thrust her power out at him. ”Take mine.”

<dark/empty/ALONE/anger/frustration/alonesoalone/cold/RAGE/anguish/AGONY/sorrow/hate/EMPTY> without end, consuming.

The doctor’s pupils dilated, his mouth slackened.

Ivan caught Anastasia as she collapsed, checking her pulse even as her eyes opened slightly.

”Eva?” He asked, accent harsh as he pushed her hair out of her face.

”We’re done,” she murmured softly, then closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. ”They can’t hurt us. We’re safe now.”

Finally.

[Spencer Ellis]

... I am so sorry.

65. Bold


It had taken three days of hard work for Vincent to assemble all the parts of his master plan. One old boombox? Check. One Divinyls album? Check. A pair of tear away pants? Check. One wicked awesome dance routine? Check.

It was time to get this show on the road.

Striding confidently down the hall without a shirt on, the boombox hanging from his hand, Vincent knew he was about to take his level of badass-ery to the max. Boldly bursting through the door of Eli Morrison’s office, he swept a few books off his desk and leapt up on it. Of course, Eli tried to protest, but Vincent wasn’t having any of it. He held up one finger and shushed Eli preemptively. The librarian didn’t even get a word out.

And then Vincent pushed the play button.

The first few notes of the song were enough to make Eli cringe, but before he could move out of his chair, Vincent was singing.

“I love myself, I want you to love me
When I’m feelin’ down, I want you above me
I search myself, I want you to find me
I forget myself, I want you to remind me!”

The singing alone might have been remotely bearable, but Vincent was not there just to serenade his favorite Hammel staff member. He was there to dance, as well. And dance he did, though most of his movements were over exaggerated pelvic thrusts.

”I don’t want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
Oooh I don’t want anybody else! Oh no! Oh no!”

Eli was frozen to his seat, his face set in a horrified expression. As much as he wanted to stop this horrible thing from happening, all he could do was stare. Vincent was… doing exactly as the song said and he was smirking like the awful little devil that he was.

”You’re the one who makes me come running
You’re the sun who makes me shine
When you’re around, I’m always laughin’
I wanna make you mine!”

Eli could see the door behind Vincent, who was now spanking himself to the rhythm of the song. He knew escape was only a couple feet away, but--

”I close my eyes and see you before me
Think I would die if you were to ignore me
A fool could see just how much I adore you
I’d get down on my knees, I’d do anything for you!”

Vincent was down on his knees alright. On all fours on his desk and gyrating in a way that suggested he’d seen one too many strippers in his lifetime. (In Eli’s opinion, one was too many.) Dear god, was this ever going to end?

“I don’t want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
Ohhh I don’t want anybody else
Oh no! Oh no! Oh nooo!”

And with that, Vin was back on his feet, grabbing handfuls of his pants and gave one hearty tug. The velcro that kept the legs shut came undone and Vincent was proudly standing bare-ass naked on his desk, hands on his hips.

---

It was then that Eli bolted upright, covered in a thin sheet of sweat, and safe in the comfort of his own bedroom. Vincent was nowhere to be seen.

Thank god it was only a nightmare.