A/N: This idea was sparked by my good friend MauditCajun on tumblr, who also served as the beta-reader for this piece. Please thank him if you enjoyed this fic!
EDIT: A paragraph was missing for some reason, so I slipped it back in.
EDIT 2: Further editing and reformatting.
It was a routine, now, being shipped off to Whispering Rock for a few weeks of the summer. Elka's prediction had come to fruition, as expected, and she had arrived home as it was occurring. It had been her mother to act upon it, and as gloomy as she could be she was still a beautiful woman. It turned out that the revelation was too much for her, affecting her nerves to such a degree that when the opportunity arose, her frayed mind resisted not when her needy, wanton desires overtook her.
Amazingly, there was no split; instead, it was a begrudging acceptance. Venomous, spat out at random intervals, a fog of tension settling over their home.
To say that it didn't affect her would be a lie, even though she could. She would have preferred it to have been severed in a divorce, like a head to a guillotine, wounded and bloody but effective.
Elka watched the fields of green run-by from the Whispering Rock bus window. The only thing she looked forward to on this exile was Nils; he'd taken the window seat on their return last summer, and she hoped that he would not mind seeing her in-place of nature.
The bus took a left from the highway, turning into a vehicle bay of sorts. Various other buses for other camps were stationed there, children of every shape and size dwarfed by their luggage (save for a few exceptions).
Exactly one of the innumerable children boarded; Vernon Tripe. He surveyed his options, even though it was virtually empty, with herself, Phoebe, Quentin and Benny being the only ones picked up so far. His face lit up upon spotting her and scurried over.
"Hi Elka," He greeted in his droning voice; good to know that hadn't changed. He'd grown a little, still small compared to herself, donning a baseball cap, hair worn in the same way and clothed in a similar fashion, save for a swap of colours. He was predictable like that.
"Hello, Vernon," She eyed him.
"Can I sit here?" He pointed a finger to the empty seat beside her.
"Nils is going to sit there." Elka informed, tilting her head up snootily. Vernon was not intimidated.
"Well, he's not here now." He said, leaning forward slightly and shrugging. "So, can I sit here?" The bus moved on cue, jerking him back, his hand catching the top of the chair, saving himself from an embarrassing fall.
"There's twenty other seats you can sit in, why do you want the one next to me?" His persistence was frustrating.
"I don't know," He shrugged again, "Because you're my friend, I guess."
She didn't expect his response to ease her like it did; she supposed a friend would do, until the upgrade came around, anyway. Rolling her eyes, she patted the spot beside her and he heaved himself forward, plopping down unceremoniously into the seat.
Vernon swung his legs, sandalled feet scraping the back of the chair in front, and her brows rose in intrigue.
"Finally wearing shoes, huh?" She commented, and he hummed absently.
"Oh!" The boy caught on, "Yeah, my mom took me to the doctor and he said that if I didn't start wearing shoes soon that my feet would get all wide and weird and then I'd have to wear the paediatric ones." He stared at his feet. "My parents didn't really want that." He tapped his toes together. She joined him in the observation of his footwear.
"Franke had paediatric shoes a couple of years back." Elka recalled, remembering how Nils made fun of the girl for it online.
"Oh my God!" Vernon's head fell into his hands, "How could I forget?! Urgh, we could have had something to bond over, God!" The slightest level of distress in his voice alerted the other passengers, Benny and Quentin angling their heads in their direction, and Phoebe stiffening.
The blonde became embarrassed by the attention his charade drew to them, even when the others lost interest and resumed whatever it was they were doing. Instead of scolding him, she huffed, only to glance back; the corner of her mouth twinged upward at the admittedly amusing site of a regretful Vernon Tripe.
After a few more moments of sulking, he sat up and sighed defeatedly. "So, how is your life going?" He asked, tone a sliver lower and somewhat absent.
Elka pursed her lips, burying a terrible thought, and remained silent.
A stupid, startle of a noise escaped him.,"Sorry, sorry!" He apologised hurriedly, "Forget it, forget I ever said anything, I'm sorry." His outstretched hand landed on her shoulder for a second before he recoiled. She looked at him, incredulous.
"Since when did you start noticing what's around you?" Bitterness coated her tone. His eyes darted between her gaze and his clasped hands.
"My dad started taking me to a therapist after the teachers at my school said I wasn't making any friends and sometimes distracted the class," He twiddled his thumbs, "She said that I have to start paying attention to other people, that I can't just talk and talk and talk, I have to listen, too."
Elka cocked her head to the side, exposing her neck, "So, you've got one, too, like me." The boy nodded. "That's a surprise." She confessed, and he smiled.
"Speaking of surprises, and my dad," He started, index finger pointed upwards, "He's got precognition powers, but, why don't I? I mean, I'm his son, right?"
It was just too easy. Her mouth opened to spit out a sarcastic retort but he stopped her, "But, I should have the potential for it, so…." Trailing off, he gestured to her.
Elka's brow furrowed. "It doesn't work like that, Vernon." She criticised, tone flattening, "The ability to predict things accurately has been in my family for millennia," Time to break in the new vocabulary, "It's not something you can teach, you either have it or you don't." She turned away to cut him off, but he twisted over the point of her nose to face her.
"That's where you're wrong, Elka." He asserted in his monotonous voice, "We can do that mind-linking thing and—"
"Vernon, that's just a dumb game non-psychics play when they want to pretend that they're something special."
"Not true," He shook his finger at her, "My mom's not psychic, and when she's worried about the future, my dad sits with her, two fingers to his temple," The boy demonstrated, "Two fingers to hers, and she does the same, and it works because she tells me the vision and it comes true!"
Elka gawked; he'd become angry at her. "And my dad didn't tell me secretly, either." He added, seemingly taking her silence as scepticism.
Sitting back in his seat, his upset dissipated into nothing, leaving him neutral once more. Elka continued to stare, not really understanding how he could let his rage go so quickly and easily.
She examined the bus – she didn't know if she was too late to catch them or if it the others never turned to look in the first place. Had he really been droning and monotonous throughout? It didn't feel like it, not with how his nostrils flared and the way his body heated intensely beside her. She was still trapped in a state of bewilderment when he asked her another question.
"So, will you teach me?"
The blonde faced him, head a little woozy. Vernon waited for her patiently.
"Yeah, I guess." She agreed nonchalantly, if only to ensure that he didn't turn to dust as he waited for her to reply.
"Wow, thanks Elka, you're a real pal," He petted her shoulder lightly, "I'll be a good listener, I promise, I'll show up earlier and, oh gosh, wow, I'm so excited!" No one would have been the wiser. He gushed for a short while longer, the halting of the bus ceasing his never-ending spiel of gratitude.
"The bus has stopped." He sat up on his knees to peer over the seats and out the windshield. "I'd better move, it might be Nils." Currently more invested in the arrival of her boyfriend than she was, he hopped off his seat and pivoted to face her.
"Thanks again, Elka." And with that, he moved further down to find a spot.
It wasn't Nils, but Vernon kept his distance, occupying himself with their latest accomplice, Maloof.
The beginning of week two at Camp Whispering Rock rolled by, and Vernon found himself still precognition-less. He sat languidly in the relaxation room of the main lodge, body one with the beanbag chair. He saw how Elka rejoiced when Nils' joined the rest of them on the bus, seeing how they embraced and cuddled together the rest of the way. It gladdened him, it truly did, but now they were inseparable. The blonde was always making out with her blond boyfriend, or vice-versa, and sometimes they hid away for long periods of time. If she was without him, it was because they were playing tag and she had yet to chase him down.
Vernon sighed. At this rate, he would never be able to see the future; all that potential, squandered.
Rolling over onto his hands and knees, he got up and strolled to the window to peer outside. If he was just going to mope, he might as well use his time to look to nature for inspiration; from the comfort and safety of the indoors, of course. A single leaf flitted about, slowly falling, until it landed near the remains of a charred squirrel.
'That'd be a great red herring to have.' He made a mental note of it. 'Now, to think of the story….' His mind wandered to his dog, Lady – no, she wasn't a popular character, no one really understood her struggles. Maybe someone similar? But who...
"Vernon!" No, it couldn't possibly be himself, he grew out of that phase of writing- "I've been looking for you everywhere!" He jumped in surprise, reaction considerably delayed and turned to the source of the noise. Piercing glare locked on widened eyes.
"I should've known you'd be in here," Elka stomped over to him and snatched his wrist, dragging him to the middle of the room. "Do you want to learn precognition or what?"
For once, his body reacted before his mouth, and he nodded enthusiastically.
"Good." She affirmed tersely and sat them down on the floor.
"I thought, since you were spending so much time with Nils, that you forgot or didn't want to teach me anymore." He crossed his legs, feeling the cold buckles of his sandals press into his skin.
"It doesn't work like that, Vernon." Came the familiar response. She mimicked him, taking a moment to fix a sock that rolled down. "You don't force it. You feel it approaching." Elka adjusted his posture.
"Like a spidey-sense?"
Her focused expression deadpanned.
"Are you going to help me out here or what?" She snapped and Vernon realised that she was holding his arms, midway in positioning them for him. He corrected himself, placing two fingers to his right temple, the two on his left pressing against Elka's, her skin cool and clean.
"Also, when I agree to do something, I do it." The boy felt her touch connect to his left; he caught a glimpse of a rare smile from her.
"I guess I should explain this," She said, making eye-contact, "It's not random. If you are…I guess, aware of your mind you can feel it coming, about an hour before it hits you." Elka took in a breath, "I haven't had any until now, so when I felt it, I came looking for you."
Vernon was touched; as soon as she knew it, she remembered.
She tensed suddenly, "Urgh! I can feel your…warm fuzziness, or whatever."
He chuckled, "I told you it worked. I guess 'cause we're psychic it's like a strong telepathy."
Her brow rose, "You mean empath. Telepaths read minds, empaths can feel what others are feeling."
He shrugged, "I bet we could read each other's minds if we did this for long enough."
She snorted arrogantly, "I don't want you reading my mind." Her teeth bared in a sneer for a second. Vernon shrugged again.
He felt the whispers of her anticipation pulse through her hand and seep into his mind. He'd never done this before, his own telepathic and empathic ('Thanks, Elka.') abilities were weak to non-existent. This was a ritual reserved for his parents, and he hadn't considered it until he was well on his way to the bus pick-up point, supposing the prospect of another year at Whispering Rock brought the idea and the ambition to life.
"I can hear you." Elka's real voice surfaced, her mental one following a second later, and much quieter.
"Wo-o-o-w." Amazed, he attempted to follow-up with a question.
"It's probably because I'm a stronger psychic." She interjected, "Not to brag, but, that's just the truth. Oh, who am I kidding, I'll brag about it, anyway!" Her haughty delight was felt by him, a light pluck at his heart, and he giggled. Suddenly, there was tension.
'It's coming.' Her mental voice came through and he shut his eyes to concentrate. Vernon heard a distant rumbling sound, weighty and dark. It grew closer, the sounds becoming clearer, like wind and water, rolling together. As it gained momentum, it collected thunder and wood, heavy drums and gurgling waves, colliding against each other, against the elements of the mind. Suddenly, it surged forth, lightning striking him in rapid succession, the flashing visible from the back of his eyes, veins decorating his vision.
He saw it unfold before him in painstaking detail. The clash of a drumstick to a cymbal, bright and loud, followed by a heavy bass drum, snares hit rhythmically, evolving into a rhapsody of sound, the faint scratching of vinyl eventually drowned out. A great, red flame erupted, engulfing the drum kit, the crackling fire surrounded by a scream. The scene closed before him, like watching his own eyes shut, ending it with a deafening ring.
It spread across the expanse of his young psyche, world dark and empty. Light pierced through, soft, and as it grew he became aware of his body, delicate and tender. The ringing persisted as he gained consciousness, eyes fluttering open to see a blur of flesh and yellow tones.
Vernon groaned, noise from the outside muffled, until, "Vernon! Oh, my God, Vernon!" He recognised Elka's voice, uncharacteristically distraught. "Oh, oh, thank God, you're alive!" The blonde exclaimed and it pierced through his ear drums, right into his brain.
His eyesight finally adjusted, squinting up at the ceiling. 'Wait a minute, I thought I was….' Flat on his back. He propped himself up, body like jelly, and surveyed his surroundings very slowly.
The boy had been flung back, how far he couldn't really guess now, but far enough that he was no longer in the middle of the room. He faced Elka, who seemed to have suddenly appeared beside him. Startled, he jolted back, but she was too quick and caught him by his shoulders, effectively preventing him from hitting his head on the floor; again.
"Are you alright?" Her concern was almost palpable. Vernon mulled over the question, a vague dissociation making itself apparent.
"I don't know." He said, "I was with you, and…we were doing the mind-linking thing…and then...and then..." The memory hit him like a bus. "I saw the future!" A jovial announcement, practically a shriek of joy, unveiling a nasally, raspy voice beneath the monotony.
She dropped him to shield her ears and he hit the floor with a thud.
Numb to the pain, he perked up, "I saw it! I saw a-a drum set, and fire, and-and-Phoebe!" The boy sat up at the discovery, "It was Phoebe! She-she's going to set her drums on fire, the stage on fire!" A broad, swooping gesture using both arms, encompassing the imaginary flame. "There will be screaming!" He stood up clumsily, his body weakened, and stumbled about, "And fire!" He repeated, spotting his hat near a beanbag, bending over to pick it up, only to fall over onto the seat, belly first.
Elka walked over, collected his hat and placed it on his head. Vernon grinned.
"Do you think I can have visions now, like you?" He asked, feeling the beat of his heart against the fabric of the beanbag.
Elka diverted her gaze in contemplation, "I'm not sure, but-" Conjunctions were always good in situations like these, "You had a vision, and since that was my prediction, it will come true." A quizzical expression crossed her features.
"Meaning your readings are, as it stands now, one hundred percent accurate." She smiled brightly at him, the sort where it was visible in the eyes, the kind where one didn't need to be an empath or a telepath to know the sincerity of it, and she maintained it for what seemed a long while. He appreciated every little bit of it.
"Thank you, Elka." He uttered, "It means a lot to me, that you did that."
She stood up, his eyes following her out the door. Stopping before the exit, she faced him, "You're welcome, Vernon." And with that, she left.
The boy took a deep breath and exhaled, deflating into the peculiar seat.
He remembered something.
"Watch out for Phoebe, Elka! She's going to set the stage on fire, you know!"
A/N: I hope that was enjoyable!