Chapter Two
It had been a long day.
Warren sat on the floor, Amelia stood by the door, and Filedus occupied the only chair in the hospital room where Norah lay, too drugged to be awake if she even wanted to be. The door opened, and Amelia stood up straight and uncrossed her arms, looking at the tired doctor in front of her. The doctor gave a half smile.
"She acquired her powers, Mrs. Battle, that's all. The only reason she exploded is because like all Pyrokinetics, her emotions can control her abilities. She'll have to learn to con—"
"You're telling a Battle to learn to control her powers? My dear boy," Filedus said from his seat, "You really think that's necessary? We have some of the best superheroes in our name. All of them Pyrokinetics, and all of them execute perfect control."
"Except your son, Barron Battle," the doctor said. Filedus narrowed his eyes and stood, disregarding his walking cane.
"You will never say his name in that tone of voice you insolent bastard! You are so blinded by your country's hero that you cannot see when that hero betrays you!" He slammed a fist into the wall a few inches from the doctor's head, sprinkling concrete and plaster onto the man's shoulder. Amelia jumped up, and Warren stood up, ready to fight by Filedus. But the old man walked away, and stood over Norah, softly brushing a tendril of dark hair out of her face. The doctor said a few more words to Amelia, and left. As he did, the door revealed another man, who entered.
"Judge Hesston," Amelia said curtly. Her curtness was marred by her tired and sad voice. Filedus turned, only to stare hard at the man, before returning his eyes to his granddaughter. Warren curled his hands into fists at his sides, struggling to control his emotions—his anger.
"Your daughter's display in the courtroom this morning could have cost people their lives, Mrs. Battle," he said, sounding a little smug.
"Your verdict cost my children their father," Amelia retorted, weariness gone from her voice, and replaced by anger.
"I see. Your view on this is skewed, Mrs. Battle. You'll see it will all be for the best. A dangerous man is now locked away."
"For the best?" Warren sneered. "You really think so? Gee, I can see how not seeing my dad for extended periods of time can be for the best. I can see how the man who killed those kids still being loose is for the best!" His voice quivered, it was so filled with anger. The judge looked down his nose at the boy with short, messy hair, his eyes flicking to the girl, shoulder length hair sprawled over the hospital pillow. He knew, without having to look, that both had eyes just like their father. Hesston could almost see the flames dancing in them.
"Mmm. Mrs. Battle, I came to tell you the rest of your...bad news. Your daughter's unruly display proved that she needed discipline, and so the Bureau and all decided that she should be sent off to Rawlings Military Academy."
"What!" Amelia whispered dangerously. Warren saw Filedus turn to face the judge, one arm already on fire. His rumpled suit singed and burned, revealing the trademark tattoos of intricate flames that Warren had gotten, and now, Norah.
"I'm very sorry and all that, but really. You should blame yourself, not teaching those children the proper code of conduct." He was eyeing Filedus warily, gaze flicking to Amelia and Warren as well.
"Get out of here before I fry you!" Filidus roared, and the judge Hesston fled. The small, broken family was alone, and quiet for a long while.
"Mom, Rawlings isn't even for super-powered kids," Warren said slowly, realizing this for the first time.
"I know," she responded sadly.
"Then how can they send her there?" Warren had never been separated from his sister before. They were close at home, and school, at play. He began to panic. "They can't take her away. They have to take me too, I don't care how good she is at sparring and at shooting, she's my little sister, there'll be no one to look after her! I have to go with her!"
His mother held him, soothing him softly, and looking over at Filedus with worried eyes. The old man smiled sadly, and tapped his cane against the floor.
"Warren."
"Yes, sir?"
"Your sister will be wearing a power-neutralizer. It's what they make us wear when they don't want to deal with it, when they want everything to go their way," he said, and swore in German. Amelia looked at him reproachfully. He apologized. He muttered something about getting some coffee, and left. Amelia looked at Warren's tousled head as she held him. Were they going to take everyone away from her?
The plush office, with its beiges and browns, did nothing to calm her. Amelia glared at the man in front of her. "You have no right. No right to tell me where and where I cannot enroll my son! I've already told you I will comply with your rules for my daughter, but now, when I try to keep my family together, you tell me it isn't possible?"
"Mrs. Peace—"
"Battle."
"Right. Mrs. Battle, I understand what you're saying, but I tell you, one dangerous super is bad enough. I can't have two pyrokinetics running around my school. In case you hadn't noticed, this is a normal school, not one for you mutants."
"You say mutants with such distaste that one would never say we mutants have saved the world on countless occasions. Please, Mr. Green, I'm begging here. I know you're a father—imagine being separated from your children at a time like this, and more importantly, separating them!"
Principal Green looked at her, and she saw his look soften. She bit her lip.
"If I may come in, Mr. Green, Mrs ...Battle," a cold voice spoke from behind her. She turned to the doorway, to see Agent Foley, one of the bureau's men, walk in. He had been present at her Barron's hearing—she had met him then. She inclined her head slightly, and he sat in the seat next to her.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Foley?" Green asked.
"I simply came to make sure Amelia here was playing by the rules," he retorted, glancing at her. She kept her eyes straight ahead, and smiled stiffly.
"Of course I am."
"I heard what you're requesting of the Principal, and I'm here to tell you it's absolutely out of the question."
"Why?" she kept her voice level, but her heart sank with every moment.
"Because I have orders to keep your twins far apart."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Not my problem. My problem is to follow orders, and if you get in my way, I swear, I will neutralize the threat."
Amelia didn't doubt him. "Visits?"
"Are permitted. Warren will continue at the school he is at, then, when of age, go to a high school of the bureau's choice. Norah will go to Rawlings Middle School, and eventually, closer to you, Rawlings High. Understood?"
"What other alternative do I have?"
"You can hand them over to the bureau where they'll be sent to respective schools while you and your husband rot in prison. For some reason or another."
Amelia was silent. She closed her eyes, opened them, looked at the silent principal, stood, nodded to both men, and walked out. She didn't look back as she left the building.
When she finally got into her car, her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't get the key in the ignition. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes again, and screamed wordlessly, pounding the steering wheel in frustration.
Was everything they'd worked towards—being heroes, and honourable, and respectable—going down the drain like this? She hadn't seen this coming. None of her readings had ever revealed this pain, this anguish, that they were now going through. It was ridiculous. How could they? Warren and Norah were just children—like the ones the Commander had killed!
Amelia tried to calm her breathing and her thoughts. It might have been an accident, what the Commander had done. It might have been—probably had been. But the fact that he and his wife lied and accused someone innocent—that, that was what she had a problem with. Amelia and Barron had worked with the Commander and Jetstream before, but not often. The two were the all-American-heroes, while the Battles worked worldwide.
"Oh, gods," Amelia groaned, tears finally spilling.
That last night with Barron was all the memory of him she would ever have. What if something happened to him in the months before they were allowed to see him? What if the bureau revoked their right to visit?
"Please no," she moaned, sobs wracking her body. "Please, please, I just want him back. Oh gods…"
Warren and Norah were curled up together on the couch in the living room, fast asleep, TV dinners untouched beside them. Shauna looked at the kids worriedly, before picking up their trays, and heading back into the kitchen. Amelia hadn't gotten back from whatever appointment she'd had at eleven the morning and it was almost twelve hours later. The kids had tried so hard to stay up, but eventually….
Shauna sighed as the tidied the kitchen, packing away and doing last minute things. She'd been surprised when Amelia had sat her down, and explained everything to her. Shauna respected the woman's guts—she needed someone to be with the kids, she could have told Shauna anything—but instead told her the truth.
Shauna didn't believe Barron was guilty. Seven years of working with the Battles might have made her seem biased in some opinions, but she saw it as being knowledgeable. Firebird was a fierce hero—but he reflected his alter-ego, Barron—his courage was tempered by humanness, his sternness by trustworthiness, and besides, the man was smart. He would have assessed all risks, and probably had, but the Commander and Jetstream had flown right over the building…
Shauna sighed, and sat down to wait until Mrs. Battle came home.
