A/N: I found this one video on a site where they were documenting telekinetic humans in the USSR during the Cold War and I thought 'HEEEY' so here we are. Enjoy~!

Ivan had always been a peculiar boy, ever since he was born. Whereas most newborns screamed after birth, he remained silent, his pale face expressionless and his skin cold to the touch. The doctors worried he was dead until the amethyst eyes blinked at them confused, wondering what form of creature they may be. But that was only the beginning. Yekaterina, his mother, loved her dear Ivan with all her heart, but there was no denying his oddity.

"Are you not worried for him?" Natalya asked as they talked in the sitting room over a few drinks of tea. The two sisters had always been close, especially now in this heightened time of the Second World War. Natasha's husband was off on the front, and even though she didn't show it, Katyusha was sure her sister fretted over his well being.

Katyusha sipped her tea in thought, "Over my husband or over Ivan?" The six year old looked up from his toys at his name.

He wasn't interested in his mother's small talk, but he really didn't enjoy it when they spoke of him. The topics ranged from his troubles at school to his inability to get along with anybody and anything. It wasn't his fault if they treated him peculiarly. He even felt bad when his mother would ask 'Why must you be so odd?' but she didn't notice how much it stung the boy.

"Well, both, but I was specifically speaking of your boy." That's right, keep talking over his head like he was invisible. Good gosh woman, he was RIGHT IN THE ROOM!

His mother's eyebrows raised in worry, "Should I be worried?"

"He has no friend Katyusha," Natalya spoke bluntly, "That is not good for a child of his age. He will not be able to cope when he gets older sister. He shies away from others, and that is not good if he is to work in this system. We work with each other, for each other. You cannot get past that. He seems to be against everything we are."

The elder sister quietly sipped her tea as she tossed the words around in her mind. In all honesty, Katyusha had not agreed with the government and wanted to leave, specifically to America. But when the war broke out, everyone was a suspect to Stalin and the government. They would become suspicious if a single woman were to leave the country with naught but her only son. She would leave the house and everything in it to her sister, of course. She didn't have enough money to take all their possessions with them.

"Katerina?"

She was pulled from her thoughts and smiled sadly to herself, "Yes, you're right. He would not fair well as he ages. I wish he was not so strange."

Ivan heard all that was said, though he pretended, as they had, that he was not there. He wished he was there, playing in that room with his hand-made aeroplane. He wished his papa was home from Poland. He wished many things. His aunt and mother continued talking about nothing; the useless things of the sort that only women in the thirties would speak of. Finally it was time for his aunt to leave. He stood by his mother as the women exchanged farewells and then Natalya kneeled down before him and took his hands in both of hers, "Ivan, you'll be a good boy, yes?"

"Yes."

"And no more fits from you, alright?"

"Yes."

"You know we love you so very much," she told him and kissed his forehead. He looked to the floor and nodded bashfully. She smiled and ruffled his pale hair before saying good bye one more time and disappearing.

Ivan knelt before his window as he looked out into the overcast sky. It was September and the winter was already settled comfortably over Russia. He looked up into the sky, willing a star to show itself so he could have an excuse to pray. Even if Stalin insisted the people become atheist, he was not. His father still believed in god, so he did too. Sadly, no stars revealed themselves, so he settled on ducking below the sill to hide his slight frame from view.

'Dear God, it's me again. I'm not sure if you even listen to me anymore, no one else seems to know I exist anymore. No, scratch that, my existence is a burden on everyone. No one really likes me at school, and I don't fit in with their puzzle. I feel like my piece is supposed to go in a different box. Is it wrong? I mean . . . even mama . . . sh-she seems disappointed in me. And I'm only six! What about when I'm sixteen? Or twenty-six? Will she still be disappointed in me?' he prayed, 'God, I wanted to ask you a favor. And you being God, I guess you really don't need to do it, but I would appreciate it . . . like a whole lot. Could I possibly do something . . . anything . . . to not have my mother be so disappointed in me?'

Yekaterina stared at the note she had from the military. Her husband had died in an accident with the Poles, but how could she possibly tell Ivan that? She sighed helplessly and threw the paper into the fire that kept her warm. She would have to leave. They would have to leave. She wanted the best for Ivan, and a war-torn Europe was not what her son needed.

~One week later~

Ivan didn't want to go. He loved his house that his father had built before he was born. And what about his papa? Why wasn't Papa going with them? Mama kept saying it was because he was fighting for the motherland, but Ivan felt that something was off. And being the six-year-old that he was, he was throwing a tantrum; a very discreet, yet violent, tantrum. Yekaterina hated it when her son became this way. He would stomp behind her with his eyes fixed on his shoes, but that wasn't the main reason why.

As they walked with Natalya through the crowds, lights would flare on as Ivan passed near them. Objects moved away from him, and even people looked around as though searching for the one who had so rudely pushed them. Yekaterina could never explain it, but whenever her dear son became angry, she could not reach him. Worse yet, she had the most horrid time scolding the child while being five feet away.

"Are you sure about this Katyusha? I'll keep the house for when, or if, you come back. But are you sure this is what's good for Ivan?"

The elder sister sighed, "I'm not sure about short term, but if England and France respond to Hitler's aggressions, then all of Europe will be at war, and I know I would not want my son in that situation. I'm sure you'd feel the same."

"You're right," Natasha let out a breath as well, "I would not wish for that upon my own son. But remember about your family here."

The two hugged tightly, "Of course."

They took a boat from St. Petersburg and made their way through the Baltic Sea before reaching the North Sea and making a clean break to England before being placed on a much better equipped vessel and were carried across the Atlantic. As the journey continued and Ivan heard languages he did not know, he began to forget about not wanting to leave and focusing more on how lucky he was to be able to experience what many in his country did not.

After the weeks at sea, however, he became more interested in land. And the sight of the Statue of Liberty was one that he could never describe. He was overjoyed and even a little upset. But his mother stood behind him as they saw the statue pass, and their new life would begin.