ME TK CH2

Calabrese woke up staring at a ceiling, a blanket covering his body, and bars all around him. Shit, am I in jail? No, wait, baby crib. He attempted to lift his head only to find that his neck did not have the strength to do so. A baby... right. Gotta go through the whole no control of my bowels and crying my eyes out every day and night. He really wanted to look around and get some kind of view of the place, though. That's when he remembered his new power. Might as well try this out sooner rather than later. Focusing on his head, he imagined lifting it up slightly. It took a lot of effort even with his tiny baby skull, but he managed to prop himself up slightly.

It was clear he was in an orphanage, judging by the adjacent cribs and simple room decorations. This wasn't the presidium of orphanages, either; the paint was peeling from the top of the walls, the cribs looked pretty beaten down, his blanket was a tanned white, and there were few lights on. Calabrese knew that he was likely in either an orphanage full of people who just run it for the money, or full of people who are desperately trying to make things work for the kids. He hoped it was the latter.

Still, he was well aware that in a lower-income seeming area, there would be a fair share of bullies, punks, gangs, and criminals that he would have to deal with. He needed to make sure he was ready to deal with them. And beyond here, too. A galaxy full of murderers, slavers, and cosmic horrors. And I get to deal with all of them. Yay me. That brought another group to mind, possibly the most dangerous one to him for the coming years.

Cerberus.

A child capable of beding spoons without biotics? It would be the Illusive Man's wet dream. He'd have to hide his ability as much as he could while also powering it up to be the most powerful it could be. Incorporating the two into one. It wouldn't be easy. Not like I don't have time to think about how to accomplish all that.

He let his baby head drop back down on the soft mattress. He tried to lift his head normally again, still failing. Calabrese remembered something about how baby muscles take a while to develop and that early development could harm growth or something like that. He could still work on his other power, though. Might as well start training now. He tried to lift his baby arms this time, finding it slightly easier but still difficult. He would lift them slowly up and down with his telekinesis. He moved on to his legs as well, getting a feel for how they tingled and shook. After only a couple lifts on each limb, the boy felt incredibly tired. He decided to call it a day and fell back into blissful slumber.

He awoke the next morning to the sounds of voices, two women. They seemed to be making quiet chatter. He caught a glimpse of them as they passed by, tending to the other four children in the room. He saw one; a woman with short red hair and a simple white blouse and vest, pause as she stood over his crib.

"Agnes, who's this little cutie?" she asked while staring down at Calabrese with a smile.

The other woman came into view. She had long brown hair and wore a similar garb. "Why, he's our new arrival. We found him last night on the doorstep, poor thing. A simple note with his name pinned on his little blanket." She reached down and caressed his bald head. Calabrese couldn't help but giggle a burbly baby giggle. Both women smiled a little wider.

They both moved on to the other kids of the room, checking for dirty nappies and seeing who was hungry. Calabrese laid there, glad that it seemed he was in the good kind of orphanage.

*** (One Week Later)

Calabrese had settled into a routine. He'd practice his TK lifts whenever he had a spare moment. Between Agnes and the other woman whose name he discovered to be Angela, the kids were well taken care of. He noticed a few things about the women over this past week as well. Firstly, both were surprisingly young to be doing this kind of work. They were about 26 as far as he could tell. He also noted the bags under their eyes, evidence of long hours. He also heard other voices through the walls. Sometimes it was an older man, maybe some loud kids, a few assorted adults that he figured were other orphanage workers, and occasionally a pair of voices that sounded like parents looking to adopt. Personally, Calabrese wasn't looking to get adopted. It would be way too much effort and hassle to try and hide his powers from loving parents. Plus, he felt he didn't need them. He did fine on his own already.

Well, except for the whole getting killed thing, but he let that one slide.

He also took this time to come to grips with the fact that he was going to have to relive growing up from an infant and going through puberty, again. He felt very embarrassed when he had his first "accident" and had to be wiped clean by an adult woman. He was an adult, damn it! Maybe a fresh adult, but he liked to think he was mature for his age. He was able to keep a handle on the crying, luckily.

Also; while he knew he couldn't "develop" his muscles quite yet, he could get a handle on his motor controls. He pacticed grabbing imaginary objects, spun his eyes around to get used to the feeling, straightened and flexed his arms and legs, touched fingers to thumbs. Calabrese didn't want to waste a moment, especially when he knew he had to be prepared. He'd push his little body until it collapsed.

His musing was interrupted when Angela came in for feeding time. She went around to the kids with a spoon and a jar of devil's flesh - sorry, "nutritional baby food". She approached the young Calabrese.

"Come on, Cally, here comes the airplane!" She smiled at him while wiggling the spoon around.

Calabrese wanted nothing more than to slap the stuff away, but he needed the calories and nutrients, so he reluctantly opened his mouth and swallowed the gunk. He swore that when he was an adult, he'd go find the manufacturer of that hellish food and kick the CEO in the testicles.

Unless it was a woman. Then he'd just give her a stern glare.

*** (6 Months Later)

Agnes and Angela were taking the kids out of their cribs more often, letting them sit down and play with toys. Most were just sitting around blowing bubbles with their own spit, making random "Ah!" and "Beh!" sounds as their developing brains tried to figure out how words worked, occasionally giggling at something and making the two caretakers smile. Soon afterwards, however, their attention was turned back to young Calabrese.

Calabrese had been crawling for about a month now, which was a month before any toddler was expected to be moving around on their own like this. Today, though, Angela was holding his hand as he tottered around trying to get used to walking. Calabrese knew all the essentials, but his damned baby legs were having trouble supporting him. He considered using TK to support himself, but he decided it would be better to get his body developing as needed. With each ponderous step, the toddler's grin grew wider.

Both women were quietly amazed by the boy's progress, but they were happy none the less. It did their hearts good to know that if this boy could learn so quickly, he'd have a good shot later in life at succeeding, maybe making something of himself.

A man poked his head in the door of the children's room. With just a dash of grey in his hair and a disheveled beard, the man stood at 5'9 with a smart suit and tie. This was Gerald, the owner of the orphanage.

"Hello everyone!" He greeted warmly before speaking to Agnes. "Agnes, I need you for a moment. Seems Billy knocked over one of the younger kids again and made him scrape his knee, you know how he is..."

Agnes merely sighed. She did know. "Alright, I'll go deal with him." She certainly hoped he would grow out of his behavior. "Angela, do you mind keeping an eye on everyone?"

Angela shook her head. "Not at all, I've got this covered." She pecked Agnes on the cheek, who then blushed furiously. "Go do your thing."

Once the two left the room, Angela let her smile drop a little. "Sorry Calabrese, I have to watch everyone now. I know you'll get it, though."

Calabrese looked up at her and smiled. He knew she thought he couldn't understand her, but he did and sympathized. He couldn't hog her attention with a room of toddlers, now could he? Agnela swiftly spun around as she spotted a young girl on the other side of the room, moving towards her. "No, Emily, you don't put that in your mouth!..." Case in point, he thought to himself.

Calabrese crawled over to the wall, using it to support him as he continued practicing walking back and forth. He was sure he'd be able to get it down by the end of the week, intermixed with his usual motor skill practicing with the toys. He certainly was glad there was no surveillance in the room, and he'd checked extensively. The caretakers usually followed a routine, and between visits this allowed Calabrese to practice his TK, fine motor skills, and speaking. It was all a matter of repetition; honing his former skills until the body accepted the mind.

*** (Later that night)

It was getting late, but not too late that all the toddlers had fallen asleep. Calabrese was sitting upright and floating about two feet above the crib as he opened the lid of the toybox by the door and levitated them around. This was part of his training; learning to multitask and split his attention. On a battlefield, you couldn't get blindsided or you were dead. But he felt that he was having no trouble with his work today, it seemed a tad easy. He decided to lift the crib underneath him as well, which took quite a bit more effort. He was feeling the mental strain after a minute or so, so he gently set himself and the other toys back down.

He sat there, resting so he could go again. He let his mind wander back to his formor life...

*** (Flashback, Calabrese as a teenager in his old world)

Calabrese sat in the back of the classroom, idly doodling on a piece of paper. He was in english, and he hated english. Not that he had anything against the teacher, but it was just so boring. He knew the language already, damn it! He wasn't looking to become a book critic or a poet, what the hell was the freaking point of the class?

"..ese. Mr. Calabrese?" a voice spoke, breaking him out of his mental rant. Calabrese looked up to see the expectant face of Mr. Damien, his teacher, and several of his classmates.

"Er... yes sir?" He asked back.

"Is it an alliteration or a cacophony?" Mr. Damien asked patiently.

"Ummm..." Calabrese glanced down at his book, trying to remember where they were. "Alliteration?"

"Very good. As you can see with the rapid number of E's in this sentence..." Calabrese tuned him back out and continued his drawings.

It wasn't long until the final bell rang and our hero packed up his belongings and stepped out the back door. He lived close enough to the school that he often walked. Not that he had much choice since he didn't have a car. It was a nice day out, too; slight breeze in the autumn air with leaves falling onto the sidewalk that crunched underneath his sneakers.

Stepping through the front door, Calabrese was assaulted in his shins as his fatihful companion Scrabble greeted him. Scrabble was a black labrador that he got from his friend and neighbor Max, a black lab breeder. Scrabble nuzzled against Calabrese's hand as he knelt to pet him.

"Heya big guy," Calabrese said as he ruffled his dog. Scrabble panted and barked happily before bounding back to his dog bed and lying down. Calabrese remembered to grab his mail and set about sorting through them. The usual bills marking the beginning of the month were the only ones there. Calabrese groaned a bit. He had the day off from his job at Gamestop, but he still felt a bit concerned over his financial status. The house mortgage, electricity, gas, and air conditioning were all just part of his routine now, but it wasn't easy juggling working to have enough money and having enough free time that he didn't chew the walls apart. He set them down and went to the fridge, grabbing a juice box and reading his note on the fridge, reminding himself he had a meeting with his parole officer of sorts.

The parole officer of sorts was his solution to not be shunted into foster care. Calabrese was sixteen when his mother passed, and he had no intention of getting shuffled along into foster care for a mere two years before being sent back into the world. To that end, he spoke with a judge and proved that he was a working man with knowledge of how to take care of himself. After much debate, the judge agreed to let him continue living in his so long as he kept up with a youth officer and informed them of how he was doing. Calabrese was happy to take the deal.

As the years passed, what few friends he had in high school stopped answering the phone and Calabrese was left to his own devices; working long hours trying to save money for college, going for bike rides into town, sleeping away the hours, and playing his Xbox 360 with a large library of games thanks to his employee discount at Gamestop.

It was through this that he was introduced to Mass Effect, a scifi action adventure series that filled him with equal parts glee and rage. One due to the amazing universe, loveable characters, and great combat. The other due to his refusal to play anything other than insane difficulty even on his first playthrough. Yes, it was a bright time for him.

*** (Back to the orphanage and 6 month old Calabrese)

Calabrese's infantile body shook slightly as his eyes filled with tears. He mourned for his loss of the life he left behind. He was in a universe that was filled with very evil people that weren't just pictures on a screen. They were real. Calabrese felt the weight of his new existence settle on his soul, and he cried until his body gave out in exhaustion.