Summer had been around Cindy's age when she'd started developing powers.
Marsha (because she was Marsha now, not Dr. Holloway) said that Summer had been a late bloomer. Though it was hard to determine late when you were comparing only ten people, wasn't it? But everyone else agreed. Cindy said she'd been lifting her bed when she'd been four, Tucker had expanded his ass when he'd be three, and Dylan had just simply been disappearing as long as he could remember.
Summer didn't really mind. It gave her two extra years.
Some days she could fool herself and say that if they were willing to give her up based on something stupid like powers then she didn't want to associate with them anyway. Some days she could just ignore the burning scar that would never truly heal.
And then some days she remembered it had been her fault.
Of course, any control she'd had back then had been shit, not to mention she hadn't quite understood what infidelity meant in a marriage. So it hadn't exactly been her fault that she'd held her father's hand and happily informed her mother that he'd been sleeping with that pretty lady from HR.
So when they'd both run off with various new partners and Summer in her cargo pants and silver chain had been dropped off at the police station with papers saying that they "terminated their parental rights", it really hadn't been any surprise. Nope.
Several foster homes later, she was here. In a place that wasn't even a house, yet was the closest thing to a home she had. Three months after they'd saved Jack's brother, it was falling apart.
The team had enough control that they no longer had to sleep here at night and go to school here during the day. Tuck wasn't going to blow up his ass whenever he got called fat. Dylan wasn't going to turn invisible by accident. And while Cin had always had decent enough control on her strength, they were confident that she wasn't going to get angry and throw, say, a car at an old lady walking around with her poodle.
They had homes to go back to. Dylan's parents were dead but his grandparents weren't. Cin's parents loved her despite her strength, unlike Summer's. And Tuck's dad was just as sweet as Tuck was.
They all got to visit their families once a week for two or three hours, and Summer would go to the training room and pretend it didn't bother her.
That's where she was now. The large stage with the long glass viewing dome. No one was in the room above right now. Everyone knew she came here every week, though even Dylan hadn't asked why. Everyone had danced around the topic. But they knew. Someone had even set up a punching bag and put a re-breakable board on the blocks.
Good. Today was one of her angry days.
She didn't even grab the gloves or wrap her hands before she threw the first punch. Smack. The punching bag moved a few inches before returning. Summer was not Cindy. They had to reinforce the chains when it was Cindy doing the punching. She jumped back and forth a few times to quiet the sting.
Without thinking she hit it again.
Smack.
Stupid parents. Smack. Stupid people who always left. Smack. Stupid broken girls who already know how shattered they were. Smack. Smack. Kick.
She punched and kicked so many times she didn't know where the punching bag began and she stopped. The barrage didn't stop. Her emotions didn't quiet.
Living with everyone else's emotions in her head didn't make her any better at working through her own.
It seemed like hours, yet only moments. But her legs couldn't take it anymore. All of a sudden she dropped to the ground, unbidden tears pouring down her cheeks. Fuck this. Fuck this. But she couldn't seem to stop.
Summer didn't break down in public. Summer didn't break down period. Life had taught her to be strong.
But she was losing her family for the second time and she just lost it.
She curled into a ball by the punching bag, letting the tears run in the crack between her legs to the cement floor.
Warmth suddenly blossomed across her chest, in a similar manner to what had defined her normal since she had been small. But unlike the other times, warmth in her stomach responded instantly to the feeling, connecting toward it in a way that filled her torso with something like liquid fire.
It was calming in a way. Soothing.
She didn't even turn. "Where are your grandparents, Dylan?" She'd long ago figured out that different people had different...she supposed the best descriptor was a "tag", something...inside the emotion that revealed it's origin. Once she had figured out that, identifying people without looking had been a snap.
Dylan felt like a campfire- like being part of a family roasting marshmellows, goey goodness melting across her tongue and smoke blowing in her face. He felt like love. He felt like home. But there was also a restrained current to him to- as if one wrong wind change could cause a forest fire.
As he walked closer to her, the feeling grew stronger. She felt his hand wrap around her wrist, the site buzzing as if she was touching live wire. "You're bleeding."
Was she? She hadn't even noticed. But it made sense. She hadn't wrapped her hands. She looked up from her self-pity to find torn skin, tiny drops of blood dripping onto the cement beside her tears. "Where are your grandparents?" she repeated in a monotone.
He shook his head. "In the visiting room. I Saw you and came running."
Mind-sight. She'd almost forgotten. It was both annoying and a wonderful gift in the same hand. "Cin and Tuck?"
"I told them to stay." he said.
She nodded. She would've done the same thing, had the situations been reversed. Though the parents of the team were definitely Marsha and Jack, the two eldest kids were quite protective of their two younger teammates. They got to see their parents so little.
Of course, Dylan didn't get to see his grandparents often, either.
"You should go." She said. "I'm fine."
He ignored her and moved closer, moving his arm around her shoulders. Unconsciously, she leaned in closer, and then cursed herself.
"You've been pulling away from us." he said. "Tuck's worried and Cin's been practically in tears with how you've been snapping at her all week. I'm pretty sure Marsha's about to drag you to her office and tie you down until you spill. What's up with you?"
She looked like stone. She certainly felt like it. "Nothing. Go back to your family."
Concern. Sensing that from a person always sucked. Everyone was always so concerned. "I don't have to be an empath to see that it's not nothing."
"You have a week before you go home. Don't you want to see them one last time?" Again her words were blunt and clipped.
A lightbulb shattered in her chest and something snapped. The same something sparked in Dylan's eyes. "Is that what this is about? Us leaving?"
"It's about nothing." She rolled away in anger, showing him her back as she stood up again.
He grabbed her shoulder. "Summer, stop. Please, stop. Look at me."
This time she did listen to him. She turned around, responding to something like a beg coming from out of his mouth.
He shook his head. "You told me two months ago that you didn't want to talk about forever, so I won't." Two months. Three months since they had met. It seemed like an extraordinarily short amount of time for what they had.
But then, they had created a family in about a week and a half. Summer wouldn't have ever believed it, had she not lived it.
He pulled his communicator, newly issued, out of his pocket; he held the one she had attached to her belt loop with his other hand. "But these? These are promises. No matter where we go, what we do, where we end up, we're a team. No, we're a family. That doesn't change even if we're not sleeping in the center together anymore. Cin, Tuck, me...we'll still be around. We still have training. Even if we didn't, you're still ours. Without you, someone's missing. We're not going to disappear."
He dropped her communicator, moving his hand to the pendant around her neck. "And this promise is from me and me alone. You're my best friend, my fiercest rival and the strongest girl I've ever known. And yes; that includes Princess." Summer had to crack a smile at that one. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. So I won't. I'm not leaving anytime soon."
Something inside of her broke, and those damn tears started up in her eyes again. "Dylan..."
"No. Stop. Don't let your mind go there. If that ever happens, I want you to call me immediately on the communicator, and we'll laugh and talk and you'll remember that this isn't the end of this...any of it."
"It's only supposed to be used for official communications." She pointed out.
"This is an official communication. An important one, in my opinion." He kissed her on the top of her head. "You'll see, Wonder. It's all going to be fine."
She sighed. "I don't believe in fairy tale endings."
"Just because this is real life doesn't mean everything comes with a price." He wrapped his arms around hers, and after a moment she relaxed into his embrace. The matter was not settled, not resolved- but tabled. She didn't sense any duplicity from him.
'Faith', however, was not a concept she believed in, either.
He moved out of the hug and grabbed her hand in his own. "My grandparents want to meet you."
That stunned her, and she almost pulled away. "What?" Her face was ashen.
It was only then that he seemed to realize what she would've thought. "They're curious, that's all. And they don't care about your powers. Trust me. They'll think you're great."
She didn't believe him. Her lips curled inwards.
He sighed. "My grandmother brought this." He pulled it out of his pocket, a small object in his palm. A black box. He pressed it gently into Summer's hand.
"Trust me. They already love you."
Her focus turned to the box. A moment later, the lid shuddered open. And inside was a bracelet. A silver bracelet studded with white stones, the intitles "SJ" written in dark blue stones.
Her heart clenched. Being near it, she could feel the emotions that had sunk into the metal. The care that had gone into picking out just the right bracelet, the multiple questions about Summer's favorite stones, last name. The thought, standing out above the din, that they had done the same thing for Dylan's mother, all those years ago.
"I can't accept this." It was far too expensive a gift, especially for a girl they could potentially not like.
He smiled. "It's family tradition." he said, a flush appearing up his neck, confirming her perception. "Look, you don't have to meet them if you're uncomfortable. But...you're important to me. They'll think you're wonderful. I swear." He leaned in closer. "And if they don't, which isn't going to happen, it's not going to change a thing. I'm still not going anywhere."
She stopped a moment. Curled her lips. Felt how important this was to him; his hope, his excitement.
"Ok."
Author's Note:
So thanks for reading the first chapter of NYAF! Please let me know what you think down in the little review box- or if you have any suggestions of things you want to see, ideas, thoughts- I may not include the suggestions, but I treasure reviews...as well all do on this here site.
As a quick notice on timeline, this fanfiction:
- Completely ignores the last montage of the movie (anything after three months later, ignore)
- Assumes that the movie occurs thirteen years after the destruction of the original team, which occurred when Jack was seventeen. So, Jack is thirty, Connor is technically thirty-three (in a seventeen year old body) and Marsha is twenty-five. The kids are all still the same age as they were in the film itself.
- Assumes established pairings of Jack/Marsha and Dylan/Summer (obviously...).
All mistakes are my own. Thank you all!