Disclaimer: I don't own MR.
For Iggy, from the edge.
It feels like home, but at the same time, doesn't.
The sheets that seemed to be white were stained with dirt and blood. But the bed is soft. And the bright light above me reminds me of the desk lamp back at my room, so bright that it makes me want to close my eyes and fall asleep.
Everything else around me is dark. This must be how the animals feel whenever mom is operating on them. A sort of calm, a sort of familiarity; fear that can't be solved without an anesthetic, though I'm not quite sure if they used one on me.
"Just close your eyes Ella. This isn't going to hurt."
Where is my mom, anyway?
A needle pricks my skin. The glint of a scalpel gets dimmer as it gets nearer. They lied; it hurts a lot. But this is something I'm willing to take for her. For him.
"Ella-"
"Ella!"
I sit up, a tangle of clothes and bed sheets. Right, I was packing my stuff before I had fallen asleep.
I rub my eyes and blink a couple of times. Lupo, my roommate, sits on the bed across mine as she ties up the laces on her boots.
"Is it Saturday already?" I ask. While my side of the room is still a complete and utter mess, Lupo's is already cleaned up, with what little of the things she brought already inside her bag. That's something else we don't have in common. I arrived here with the biggest suitcase my mom could find, and Lupo (actually pretty much half the people in this school) only had this huge backpack, which was enough for about a few days worth of clothes plus some travelling essentials, none of which involved toiletries but all of which involved sharp and/or flammable materials.
Lupo stands up and tries to untangle her hair (this was usually the part where I would point to my hair brush, to which she would make a face). "No, silly. It's just ten in the evening. You are going to the start-of-summer party, aren't you?"
I shake my head. "I still have to fix my stuff. Go ahead, I'll try and follow in half an hour."
It's strange that a bunch of mutant teenagers were very interested in partying, especially considering that some of them had only lived for a couple of years. But then again, as Max once told me, people who had been poked at and stuck in cages tended to treat freedom as a luxury and could have every excuse to throw a party for their freedom. A fact that made things weirder, considering I was attending a boarding school with a large portion of mutants.
After the meteor-apocalypse thing, the first things all the adults did were find the survivors and build a community. Of course they had warned all the important people- nice scientists, researchers, humanitarians and everyone else that didn't fit the definition of "slave of consumerism" or get paid for just singing or dancing or playing sports- and so the first couple of weeks were mainly reunions of sorts. Then they built places like this one- a "learning institution" as everyone called it, because any name involving "school" might freak mutants out. This was less of a boarding school and more of a school building with buildings that served as dorms, with everyone free to come and go as they please, provided that they check in next morning for classes. My fellow normal humans were used to it, and a lot of us liked to stay most of the time. Amazingly, the mutants adapted to the concept of not running away too much, and usually only left campus to make quick runs to a store or to just swim and fly around for a couple of hours. If you ignored the wings and scales and the abundance of fur, it was pretty much your average school.
I look out the window and in the distance, see the scattered bonfires. I finish folding up the last of my clothes and look in the mirror. One of the greater benefits of attending a school packed with mutants was that no one cared whether you wore make-up or had a zit; everyone mainly focused on staying clean enough that they wouldn't need more than two showers a day. After wiping the drool of my face and running my brush through a couple of times, I grab my jacket and head out the door.
Suffice to say, a lot of things changed post-apocalypse, and this included the culture of parties. The sex- in- a- dark- room- with- a- stranger- someone- too- drunk- or- overdosed- wild- with- an- intervention- from- the- cops parties disappeared and with that came the huge wake of gatherings that involved bonfires and everyone exchanging horror stories from their days at the school or whatever lab they came from, along with some daily gossip as the side dish.
When this "learning institute" opened, there was a support group advertised for Doomsday Group survivors, aka humans like me who were hypnotized into joining the movement that were pretty much terrorists. The "opening up and sharing" part was sort of hard, considering that most of us were half-in-half-out of it.
The first one who found me was mom. She figuratively slapped me into consciousness and put my head on straight so that we could both escape the clutches of creepy, brainwashing scientists. And while we sort of had the same story, she told me I had to explain things on my own.
The flock was pretty forgiving; even Fang, who didn't even know much about my brainwashing before was okay with it. I was also vaguely aware of me going into hysterics about wanting wings. The adults told me it was normal that I had only remembered the moments with all the intense emotions and feelings- the scalding hot water of a natural spring, the deep cut of a scalpel. But the only things I remembered where how they felt. I never remembered why I was soaked in hot water or was cut in several places.
I join the group Lupo is in: a mix of humans who were either lucky or were children of important people, and mutants. A super genius here (who was actually working as a teacher) a fish-human recombinant life form there, a scattering of teenagers who were given superhuman powers.
For some reason, the small group reminds me of the flock. When I had to explain my side of the story, Max and Iggy were the most understanding. Max because she was my sister, and she was great like that. Iggy, because he was brainwashed like I was. And, as Nudge let slip, because he felt the need to defend me because of his "huge stinkin' crush" on me.
From the safety of my bedroom window I watch the mutants jump, fly, and dive. I can easily pick out the flock; the siblings' halo of blond hair, Nudge's rich mocha skin, Fang and Max flying together side by side, and my own pale knight.
"Ella?" My mom leans at the doorframe. My new room reminds me of the one I had in Arizona. All the furniture are the same size and are placed in the same corners and the creak of the door and the floorboards sound the same.
I smile in response and she clears her throat. "About what happened a while ago…"
Whoops. Although the gesture I pulled with kissing Iggy out of the blue was very spontaneous and romantic, it was also something my mother would not expect from me on a daily basis (see the part about being spontaneous). She had tried to corner me several times earlier, but there was always another batch of meteoroids or another earthquake or news of more survivors, which took more priority than the fact that I kissed Iggy.
I change my need- anything smile to my I- don't- know- what- you're- talking- about- even- though- I- actually- do smile. She replies with a look that tells me I am in so much trouble.
My mom didn't actually ground me or drag me to her work, but instead talked about how while the two of us may be doing puppy eyes at each other, Iggy still had to save the world and I still had to grow. He might've been only a year older than I was, but we were light years apart when it came to maturity. He was used to running around and not trusting people and fighting to death; I was just a thirteen year old girl who had a crush.
When we temporarily went our separate ways, him off to save the world, me off to a "learning institute", there wasn't as much intimacy or romance as one would expect. We hugged, made promises, and Iggy gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Then I got into my mom's car and he spread out his wings, ready for flight. I watched him from the car until he and the flock were just one speck of dust in the early morning sky.
My room feels so different. There is only a light layer of dust, since my mom would sometimes come in and clean when she had nothing else to do. The bed sheets are different- this time a creamy white color- and the bed is much softer than the one back at the dorms. A beam of late afternoon light shines in the otherwise dark room. In a way, it reminds me of the old lab back; I shudder at the vision.
Just as I am about to settle down, my mom enters the doorway. The serious look on her face stops me from making a joke.
"Ella, they're here."
And that was all it took. I get up and leave the room, leave all my things unpacked and for more dust to settle. I head outside, where Jeb and a few others are waiting, their eyes fixed on a point in the sky. And as I squint along, I see it. A speck of dust, now six. And we watch as the specks get larger, until we see the wings and we notice how one is different from the other. The flock is in a V-formation, and it doesn't take a lot to know that Max is front and center.
There are no cheers or shouts whatsoever; just a small crowd watching, waiting. It takes several more minutes until we can identify each bird-kid: Max and Fang up front, then Iggy and the Gasman, with Nudge and Angel following closely. They land several yards in front of us, and my mom is the first one to come running. She hugs everyone, saving Max for the last and longest hug. Jeb follows, though he is still sort of hesitant with the hugging part.
I take my time, walking at my normal pace. I hug Max first, who messes up my hair and then promises to catch up with me later after a nap. Fang is next; he feels so much like the older brother I always wanted. Then I run to Nudge, who is still babbling non-stop about how much fun she had. The Gasman, who imitates a fart, gives a high five and a hug. Angel hugs me too, and whispers, "He couldn't wait to come back. He misses you a lot, too."
I blush and make a silent prayer that Angel won't share that little tidbit with Iggy through her mind-reading powers (she uses those same powers to swear that she didn't). Iggy stands at the side, with a few people asking him questions. He still has that same goofy grin, along with the bird kid package of wings and gangly limbs.
"Hi."
Iggy looks at me and his grin turns wider. "Ella…"
And that's when I see it. His eyes.
They're a different kind of blue now.
A good kind of blue.
So, it's been a while since I posted anything here.
This oneshot's actually been stuck in my drafts folder for more than half a year if I'm not mistaken. But I've only gotten back on the website a couple of weeks ago, now that I'm on vacation again, and I remembered this and thought, "eh, might as well".
Anyway, I know there isn't any actual plot in here, but I guess for some reason Ella had been stuck in my brain and this just sort of came out.
Thank you for reading. Tell me what you think! :)