It happened a few times when the sun began to settle and all she could feel was her insides turning to jello. Shaking from the cold wind, and the pinpricks in the inside of her arm. Her nose burned, and she blinked a few times to help her eyes find moisture. Rocking back and forth, she glanced around, waiting for her brother.
Fetch bit down on her lower lip, she didn't know how long she's been sitting beside the theater that was recently painted a pumpkin orange. Its bright pink, purple, and blue lights above was a heat that non-Conduits will never understand. She tasted it on her tongue, the warmth that filled her completely. Except her brother reminded her she wasn't supposed to reveal herself. She tried her hardest not too, but there were moments when she pushed past that boundary and reached for those brilliant lights that glowed in the darkness of her world.
Salvation tasted wonderful.
The glow wafted toward her, smoothly as it thickened, and the sign flickered in and out. It wrapped around her, easing all those distasteful thoughts from her mind. She leaned back against the brick wall, ignoring how cold the fall weather was becoming, and her jacket was no longer encasing her in heat.
The OPEN sign to the theater sometimes helped her. She'd cup her hands out to passing strangers with kids following behind them. She watched them turn their gazes away, minding their own business, ignoring her presence altogether. A useless being, asking for someone else's help, she knows what they know. She sees it in their eyes.
A trap. She was a trap.
Some days were good, the weight was a reassurance that eased her worry and frustration.
A dollar, two dollars, three dollars, four dollars, five dollars.
Each coin passed it in her hand, her heart racing, and the first thought that ran through her mind is which drug was cheaper for her to buy. Or who she can go to so she could chip in with them. Play some of these drug dealers as fools with the money she managed to beg for.
It was humiliating when they called her out. Pathetic little girl searching for scraps like lowly trash. She should go home, but they didn't know the reason why her own parents sold her out. All they cared about was that they were chipping away her self-esteem, and shoving her rage to the depths of her core.
She'd curl her fingers into fists at her sides, looking away, unsure of what she was going to do to them. Her imagination was cruel, torturous, and a beautiful bright pink. Except her brother backed her up, his arm a comfort on her, pulling her away from them and their mocking words that carved into her mind.
No powers.
Sometimes she pretended she could destroy the entire city on her own. Burning it in pink, purple, and blue flames. Crashing down buildings, and scaring off the people who denied her request. A rage that was dormant inside, and she would never dare touch.
She could easily use it to threaten people, to get what she wants. They didn't have to beg if she used her powers, if she crashed through glass and threatened a shopping mall. Stealing food and clothes. A place to sleep that was warmer than a couch in a dingy apartment, owned by another drug addict that took pity on a girl like her.
It was easy to lie through her teeth, to play sympathetic to the music they were attuned too. They were not her friends, and they knew that too well. They always left her, spoke about her behind her back, and sometimes they even tried to attack her whenever she was drugged up, or even when she was sober out in the street.
If only they knew they were threatening a Conduit.
No powers.
His words rang true inside her head, and she let the pain in. Soft punches leading to soft cuts. A smile on her lips when they were bewildered by her lack of reaction to their verbal and physical threats.
What did her in was the emotional abuse.
"Your brother wanted a piece, so I fucked him. He's so damn easy. All for the fucking drugs. Pathetic. Are you the same? Would you do it just to get your fix?" Laughter ringing in her head, heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to rip them apart, and instead of using her abilities. She fought without them. She punched the girl that was talking shit about her and her brother. Breaking her nose, and grasping the back of her bleached blonde hair, and slamming her face into the brick wall of a dark alley.
Blood was not new to her, and she didn't shy away from shedding it from the other girls that opened their mouths, thinking they were better than her.
After that, they had to skip town. Too many people knew them, some were guessing things about Fetch. Why she wasn't harmed by physical violence when she could enact it upon others with more extreme results.
Other times is when the black and yellow trucks appeared, soldiers building roadblocks and scanners. They stalked the streets with their heavy weapons that could take down someone stronger than Fetch. Who was more skilled than she was when she witnessed their downfall, and the red haired woman's lack of emotional response. In her eyes, there was no room for pity.
Fetch would do anything to stay away from her, run for the rest of her life, hide in the darkest places where she yearned for the burning light. It would be painful, but she could endure it all, if she could stay with her brother.
Pain. Of her parents selling her out and shattering her heart. Pain. Because her and her brother had to turn to other means to survive. Pain. She would do anything to stay out of Curdun Cay.
A prison meant for Conduits.
A prison meant for her.
"Fetch." She looked up and her face warmed at the sight of her brother, Brent, walking towards her. He wore the same faded blue jeans with a rip in the knee, sneakers that were worn out, and a simple blue sweater. His hair was spiky and green at the tips of his mohawk. He maintained it by people he met and played around with to get what he wanted.
She got to her feet, "Where were you? I was waiting for almost an hour."
Brent nodded, frowning. "I'm sorry. Some of John's friends wanted something done. All the idiot asked for was his Co2 Cartridge back from Mona."
Fetch rolled her eyes. "And he couldn't get it back himself?"
He avoided her eyes when he said, "he was a little tweaked out...paranoid, speaking in word salads. Trevor had to come with us to deal with it in case Mona tried to get her cousins after us again."
"Fucking bitch," Fetch muttered, shaking her head. There was always something about people who locked themselves in rooms, hiding beneath blankets while their minds frayed at the edges of a mind fuck. She sat with them once, rocking back and forth, watching fairies burst into flames or even sparkles before their remains turned to incandescent rainbows.
John was connected to several people who supplied him, and Mona was one of his usual clients. She was one of those druggies who couldn't handle a hit. Too broken to speak, and too blacked out to know who was friend or foe.
Fetch would never want to experience that.
Brent was her ally, and everyone else was her foe. Friends was a luxury, and too many people wanted too many things from a girl who had no home.
Brent took her hand and lead her into the theater.
She pulled back before they crossed the threshold, lowering her voice. "We don't have a ticket...we don't even have money. I lucked out again."
Brent shrugged, giving her a half smile. "It's fine. Just stay right behind me."
She trusted her brother out of anyone, and followed him like a shadow. Funny, when all she ever was inside was a glowing colorful sign bursting through the darkness that engulfed her. Hot pink, purple, blue, yellow, and green burned the crevices of every place that darkness tried to hide.
At least that was who she was inside.
On the outside, she was a lonely girl with shaky hands, and cold sweat covering her forehead. Her mouth was dry when they walked by the cashiers and the strong smell of popcorn, and the sight of empty cups that if they had money, could be filled with soda.
Brent was calm, he was always calm in dire situations. He knew how to handle himself, while Fetch, struggled with her own emotions to stay in control.
Brent led her toward a heavy grey door and he pulled it open, dragging her inside. They weren't sure what the movie was, but Fetch figured it was one of those Marvel flicks that were coming out every few years. She was never able to stay up to date, but as she and Brent sat in the back of the theater, pressed in the dark, and lowered in their seats.
They watched.
In the middle of the movie, Fetch squirmed, her jacket felt tighter, her clothes sinking in her skin. She shuddered, letting out a soft agonized moan as a headache began to throb on the sides of her head. She lulled to the side, and felt a hand on her arm, bringing her closer to the warmth of her brother's arms that wrapped around her shoulder.
"I need…" she whispered, breathing in and out, trying to grasp air through her clenched teeth.
"I know," Brent said, his own hands shaking as he held her.
She dug in the soft sleeve where her nails met the hard bone of his wrist. She closed her eyes, fighting to stop herself from rocking back and forth. Her veins burned, and all the coldness sticking to her clothes had seeped inside of her, and she craved those lights outside, that spread throughout the city of Seattle.
Salvation in a sickened darkness where she lived since she ran from her parents home.
"Everything will be okay," he whispered into her hair, "everything will be okay. Say it, Fetch, everything will be okay, everything will be okay, everything will be okay…"
She closed her eyes, and a tear managed to trickle down the side of her cheek, taking a deep inhale, and trying to calm her nerves. She held her brother, and vowed not to leave his side. He was all she got, all she had to hold onto.
She whispered, "Everything will be okay."
"Fetch?"
She opened her eyes and was standing in front of two men staring at her peculiarly. It was warm outside, a soft summer breeze against her dyed pink hair. Her heart raced, but she noted her hands weren't shaking, and she was strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. She was shoved from a frail body into one that could run and jump into the sky and taste freedom.
Fetch tilted her chin and stared at the sign that didn't glow those bright colors that called to her that cold autumn evening. The theater was the same, except the orange began to chip on the sides of the wall. And the place where she sat alone those empty days was more like a dream, an imprint of another life.
No powers.
A chaotic form of her body had tore itself apart when she lost him to betrayal. And spent her days in a place she wanted to forget where all it did was remind her that she was weak. Vengeance slid between her fingertips when she took hold of it.
I'm sorry, Brent. It's who I am, I'm a Conduit, and I'm finally in control.
Fetch smiled at Delsin and Eugene, two people she helped save the Conduits surrounded by concrete walls, and lies told to the world they were monsters. No. Once, she was okay with that title, she would've breathed it in her bones, and embraced it. Now, she was more than a monster, and she was happy.
After all those years.
She was happy.
Fetch smiled, and said, "Who's buying the popcorn?"
Notes: I was asked to write another inFAMOUS: Second Son or First Light fanfiction. I watched videos on Fetch on yt since she's one of my favorite characters, and the first video gave me an idea. A sad one though from the content I wrote up. :/
I hope you enjoyed.
Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please.