Vera turned around, and began to walk back to the fairgrounds. She contemplated having one of her ghosts possess Peter to stop him from being able to tell his friends about her, but finally decided against that. She would be gone by the time he thought to return, and she would never have to worry about him again. And it would be cruel to leave someone possessed forever just for her own selfish reasons. Vera didn't consider herself a good person, but she didn't think of herself as a bad person either, and doing something like that would tilt towards the bad side of the fence.

Vera couldn't wait to get back to her trailer, where she could finally take off her sunglasses after a long day without worrying about anyone seeing, or any light giving her migraines. Once she got to the end of the alley, someone jumped out, and pinned her to the wall. It was that same guy from earlier again. She'd known he'd be back, but she'd hoped that he wouldn't be.

The girl rolled her eyes, even though she knew that he wouldn't be able to see that small action. "What's your problem, dude?" She took a deep breath. It would be so easy to have one of her ghosts possess him. Whenever they possessed a person, they had complete control over them, and she had complete control over her ghosts. Possession was how she had saved her mother over a decade ago. And her ghosts were generally invisible to regular humans, so she wouldn't have to worry about him seeing. Most people could only see them when Vera wanted them to be able to see.

But in the end, it came down to the same moral debate that Vera had had with herself many times before. It just seemed so wrong to completely take over a person's entire body, and leave them with no control over what they said and did. Even if said person was trying to get another look at her eyes, like some kind of junkie.

The guy pulled out a knife, and pressed it up against Vera's neck. "Please, just one look. Just one look, and I'll leave you alone, I promise!" Vera knew that it was an empty promise, though. If she gave him that one look, then he would never stop wanting more. Maybe he'd try to cut out her eyes; there had been others in the past who had threatened to do just that. Vera shuddered at the thought.

There was a blur and Vera's hair and dress whipped to the side from the sudden burst of strong wind. Vera repressed the urge to groan. That guy, Peter. He had already been leaving, so what was he doing coming back so soon? Peter zipped back, and shoved the stranger aside, his knife nicking the side of Vera's neck before he fell. Peter grabbed Vera's hand, and pulled her away without any warning.

She had the good sense to tuck her head into Peter's shoulder so she wouldn't get a really bad case of whiplash. He brought her to a cheap motel, and took her into what was probably his room. He sat her down on the bed, then dragged a chair over, and sat across from her. Vera kept one of her hands pressed to the cut on her neck.

Vera rolled her eyes. "Seriously? What's this about?"

Peter sighed. "Well, I had decided to stay in the motel for the night so I would be able to go to the circus tomorrow as soon as it opens. Then it occurred to me that you never actually mentioned how you know my name, so I was going to ask you before you went somewhere I wouldn't know to look, and I happened to save your life."

Vera raised one eyebrow. "Again, I would have been perfectly fine. And like I told you before, it's your fault that he came back. If you had given me a chance to ask him to leave my way, then he would have left for good."

Peter frowned. "Why haven't you taken your hand away from your neck? Did you get whiplash or something?" He grabbed her wrist to tug her hand away, and he saw the blood there. He sighed. "Alright, maybe I shouldn't have pushed him away quite so hard." He stood up. "Wait right here, I'll grab the first aid kit."

Vera rolled her eyes, but she stayed. Mostly because she had no way of outrunning the man, even if she caught him by surprise, and also, she had no idea how to stitch up any wounds, let alone one that was on herself; one that she couldn't even see without a mirror.

Peter returned a moment later, and sat down on the bed next to Vera. "This is going to hurt. A lot," he warned. At least he was honest. He pulled out a needle, a spool of thread, and a bottle of antiseptic. He snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, and poured some of the solution onto a piece of gauze. He pressed it lightly to the wound, and Vera jumped up with a screech. She hadn't even been able to feel the injury before, but she definitely could now. The man sighed. "I did warn you. But I have to do this. Otherwise you'll get infected, or worse, bleed to death. Is that how you want your life to end?"

Vera glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears in her eyes. "Yes, if the only alternative is letting a complete stranger patch me up." She glanced down and saw the blood dripping all over her dress, and she scrunched up her nose. "Shit," she whispered to herself. She looked ready to cry.

Peter stood up. "Listen, I know that it hurts, but there's nothing I can do to help with that." He was used to working with people who got injured on a daily basis, and were able to handle their pain. Not a child who had probably never gotten worse than a scraped knee.

Vera sniffled, and sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Fine, but do it fast."

Peter wasn't exactly trained in speed sewing, and he didn't want to make things worse by rushing and messing up. But he nodded, and sat back down as well. Vera couldn't hold back her loud sobs when Peter pressed the gauze back to the torn skin, but she managed to keep still, or as still as possible in this situation.

When it came to the stitching her shut part, she was straight up crying and screaming. Peter hoped that no one tried to check in to see what was going on. It sounded like Peter was murdering her, even though it was quite the opposite. When he was finally done, he cut the string, and rubbed more antiseptic over the stitches. Then he taped one of those white bandage squares over the wound, and stepped back.

The girl was clenching her hands into fists so hard that little droplets of blood were beading from her palms. She sniffled, and tried to scrub away her tears without shifting her sunglasses. Peter felt bad even though he'd just saved her life. "Uh, why don't you take a shower to get clean?"

Vera nodded, but didn't say anything. Peter grabbed his small overnight bag, and pulled out an extra tee shirt. She took it, and went into the bathroom. He heard the shower running a moment later. Peter kept out another bandage, since he would have to replace the one that was getting soaked right now, but packed up the rest of the first aid kit.

There was a knock at his door, and Peter peered through the peephole, sincerely hoping that it wasn't the police. He saw a familiar head of red, and opened the door to let in his twin. She heard the shower immediately, and narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Is this really the best time to be having your one night stands? You scared us all half to death."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "You should have just had Charles locate me."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "He wasn't sensing anything, Peter! We thought that you had died! I only found you here because I know you so well. We need to get out of here, now."

Peter shook his head. "You don't understand. She's one of us."

Wanda tilted her head. "What's her mutation? Does it have anything to do with the fact that Charles couldn't find you?"

Peter shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not sure. I barely know anything about her at all."

The shower stopped, and the bathroom door opened a moment later. Vera stepped out, wearing just Peter's shirt, which was way too big on her, and had her wet hair hanging down her back. For some reason, she was still wearing those unnecessarily large sunglasses. She raised one eyebrow, though the twins couldn't see it. "Who's this, Peter?"

Peter sighed. "Uh, Vera, this is my sister Wanda. Wanda, this is Vera."

Wanda made an exaggerated gagging noise. "Isn't she a little… I don't know… young for you?"

Vera laughed. "Are you kidding me? I would never hook up with someone so old. I'm only here because your brother felt obligated to help me after I was injured because of him." She drew back her hair, so that Wanda could see the stitches.

Vera disappeared into the bathroom again, to re-emerge with her blood soiled dress. Wanda gasped. "What happened?"

Vera rolled her eyes. It seemed pretty obvious to her what had happened. Maybe these two were just a little slow. "I was attacked. Your brother thought he was doing me a favor by coming to my rescue. He insists that I'm a mutant freak like you, even though I'm not. So if we're done here, I'd really like to go home now, before my family gets worried and calls the police."

Wanda sighed, not looking as offended as she had the right to. "Alright, where do you live? I'll drive you."

Vera scoffed at the offer. She was in pain, and angry, which meant her control over her abilities would be a little off her game. Being trapped in a car with her would certainly end with one or both of them dead. "No thanks, I think that between the two of you, you've already done enough." She sighed, and held up the crumpled cloth in her hands. "This was my favorite dress." Then she turned and slipped her shoes on, and left the motel room. She could only hope that she'd be leaving those two freaks far enough behind so that she'd never have to see them again. She was content with her life, and didn't want anyone trying to interfere.