A/N: Just to let you guys know, Warren was a junior when Will and the gang were freshman and now, he his a senior, as is Michael. Deja is a junior.

Disclaimer: Dreams and wishes don't always come true...

Ch 7: No Longer Coulda Woulda Shoulda But A Real Possibility

Impatiently, Deja sat on her bed, her feet spread and planted on the wood floor, her elbows bent on her knees and her hands holding up her chin.

Muted thumps could be heard from her tapping foot.

She had showered when she had come home, wanting to feel clean and fresh for the night. She wore another pair of black skinny jeans but she had changed her shirt and decided to wear a different hoodie. As an afterthought, Deja reapplied her mascara and eyeliner, simple, nothing fancy dancy.

Michael was taking a shower now. He had more of an excuse than just wanting a shower for the sake of having one though. His Save the Citizen match today had worked him hard and he smelled like smoke from Warren's fire.

Figuring that she wasn't gonna do homework on a Friday, Deja pulled out a book. This time it was the Constant Princess. True, it wasn't seriously philosophical or had some deeper meaning, but the Tudor dynasty in England interested her the most and this book touched on subjects and views not many thought of. Grabbing her headphones and iPod, she allowed it to play random songs as she read.

Even above the music and reading, Deja could still sense Michael's movements after he came out of the bathroom. Just as she passed over the death of _____, Michael called out "Deja..."

She dragged down her one side of her headphones from her ears and said, "Ahuh...?"

"Lista?" (Ready?)

She looked down at herself and sarcastically raised her eyebrows as if to say You joking?

"OK, let's go." He grabbed his keys and they walked out. She put her hood up as they walked.

They were both silent, unusual for the duo when left alone. Usually, Michael would delve into a conversation if Deja hadn't already. Her usual walls were down when she was just with him and she could talk away.

This silence could only mean one thing - They were about to discuss something serious.

"So, how's the new shrink?"

Deja rolled her eyes and responded, "Better than the others. She hasn't gone over the hill and she actually gets it."

He raised his eyebrows, prompting her to continue.

"She's cool. Has a life outside of the school and doesn't grill me. We talk and she is more like a friend than a shrink...She knows what to say and I think its 'cuz she's relatively young."

"Huh...What's her name?"

"She's my Ancient Supers prof, Michelle Gilbert?"

He nodded. "So, its working out?"

Deja shrugged. "It's better."

He was silent but then asked, "I've noticed you haven't been having as many bad nightmares..." she nodded.

By then, they were walking into the Paper Lantern, the bells jingling as the door opened.

After they had been seated by a sweet elder Chinese woman "Its that much better?"

He tallied in his head. "Well, yeah...You're not having as many cold sweats, not as much muttering in your sleep, less tossing and turning, and you're not waking me up..."He then paused to greet Warren who was walking up.

"Hey man, you off now?"

Warren nodded and gestured to the food boxes he had in his hands. "Yeah..." Michael gestured to the seat beside Deja in the booth as Warren continued, "Brought some food too. Figured it'd save us time and money."

"Awesome! What'd you get?" Warren handed over the food to Michael as Deja scooted a little more into the booth. Not much, but enough that she and Warren weren't arm to arm. Which was really hard seeing as that he was wearing his leather jacket and faded gray jeans that covered his body. Deja figured that Warren was no lanky boy and by the size of him, there was physical proof.

As Deja and Michael ate, Michael kept the conversation up. It was consisted of likes and dislikes and other petty stuff. Warren didn't speak much, but apparently Warren too was a hater of pop (thank god!) and if he were to be seen playing any sport, it would probably be basketball. Football was cool too.

Somehow, they got to the subject of Save the Citizen and how Warren and Will had beat Lash and Speed. From there, Warren did ask one question which altered the ease of the conversation. "Where were you during STC today? Michael was going fucking crazy trying to find you and then he dropped it."

Deja shrugged and said, "Somewhere."

Michael interjected and said to Deja, "Maybe you should tell him." Deja gave him a pointed look as if to say, Shut the hell up!

But he continued, trying to show reason, "We are hanging with him and you are getting better, so just tell him."

Deja buried her head in her hands which were raised on her bent elbows.

Warren had expected a quick answer, but this was drama and he was not all for the angst and all. Yet, this girl stoked curiosity and Michael's encouragement of sorts to reveal whatever secret also intrigued him.

Being a good guy though, he told Deja, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to..."

She raised her head and answered, "Nahh, its ok. You are hanging with Michael more and I should give you reason for this emo-type behavior of mine..." Michael nodded for her to continue.

"I control illusions. I can make anything appear, depending on its strength, it can even be solid. The illusion I sent to Michael of me wasn't solid because I didn't want to use up that much of my strength but I can make ones that look so real its almost impossible for me to remember that they don't actually exist."

She paused and Warren, who saw nothing wrong or weird about this, asked, "That's it?"

She shook her head no. "A side effect of this power is that my illusions cause me to go slightly insane at night. I don't dream like normal people do. I dream of everyone and everything that I come upon. Because my powers enact an over-imaginative mind, it comes up with all of these possibilities and these possibilities come into my dreams. That's what dreams are, Your mind thinking things through from your day and mind does exactly, just a little over zealously."

He nodded for her to continue, "So...I distance myself from everyone so my mind doesn't have to have an overly active imagination. If I don't see someone enough to remember them, I won't have a dream about, therefore, saving me from possible crazy nightmares." She paused but continued,

"Yes, I know. Nightmares, get over them, but because my mind works the way it does and because I can create illusions and make them real, sometimes it doesn't register that they are fake. Because of that, there's that possibility of me going insane..."

Deja let it drift from there. But Michael, wanting to let Warren in on the seriousness of the situation so that he wouldn't take it like a joke as many might have, he said aloud, "And by the time she was fourteen we had tried talking her out of suicide or cutting plenty of times because we didn't want to have to take her there for the umpteenth time for medical attention."

"Michael!" Warren didn't have to know that but as she said this, Warren was gently taking hold of her arm and pulling up the sleeve of her hoodie.

There, he could see semi-dark marks against her brown-gold skin. His thumb skimmed over them slightly as he thought, "And this is just one arm."

Seconds later, he pulled up the sleeve of his left arm to show flame tattoos. She traced them for a second and noticed that the design was a scorching hot. Then, as she looked closer, she saw one single cut on his arm. Deja looked at him and then at the wrist. "Why?" She breathed out.

"My little sister was killed by a hero turned villain trying to avenge what my father had done to his family. Thought it was my fault until my mom convinced me otherwise."

Their table was silent for a while until Michael piped up and said, "Now that we've come out of an ex-cutter meeting, should we just get the hell out of here and go see that movie or something less dramatic..."

Deja then snatched her arm away and slid the hoodie sleeve back down as Warren slid out of the booth.

As they walked out, Deja said out of the blue, "Damn, those flames tattoos are hot!"

Warren laughed a little, saying "I'll make sure to get some more to attract the ladies."

"No no no, I mean they were actually hot, as in temperature" she pointed out.

Warren looked down at his wrists and shrugged. Michael asked, "Does it come with your power?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh."

To keep the conversation going, Warren asked, "So, when'd you guys meet?"

Deja shrugged but Michael responded "I was thirteen, right?" She nodded.

"Yeah, I was twelve when I got my powers and my parents were civilians so they didn't know what to do. They took me to the hospital 'cuz hey though I was high on drugs or insane. Instead, one doctor took me to his mom as a therapist."

"So, my mom started having appointments with her and eventually, Deja's parents couldn't take Deja's illusions and night escapades anymore, handed her over to us and that's the last we've seen of them."

Deja nodded her confirmation and said, "It was that or run away, so I went to his family. Before, I just met his mom at her office but when I started living with them I got to know these guy," she jerked her thumb at Michael, "and since then..."

"Since then it has been my right to call her little sister, midget and such and now, to be the overprotective brother, as Lash knows."

Warren raised his eyebrows, "You acted more than just an older brother the other week..."

"Puh-lease!" Deja interjected. "As if we were ever together."

"Well..." MIchael snuck in, "There was that kiss about a year after you moved in..." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, shut up." Deja pushed Michael into the street. "You and I both literally washed out our mouths with soap out afterwards and had the taste of some soft soap lavender for a week afterwards."

Warren smirked at that. Deja continued. "Yeah, other than that, all of our history has consisted of friends for years. Him being my main man. I was his right hand in his schemes."

"Yeah, she was good at creating illusions at parks scaring old people and kids."

"Now I have reformed and believe myself to be under your influence at the time."

"Ahuh...whatever you say." Then he turned to Warren who was having a hard time containing his laughter. "Like I said before, she has a mouth and punch on her. Do not underestimate her. I swear, it'll cost you."

By now, Deja was in her comfort zone, adding Warren to be one of the few on her comfortable list.

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"So, what movie?" Michael asked as they came in front of the ticket booths.

Warren shrugged but then out of curiosity, asked Deja, "You're not gonna ask to see a chick flick, are you?"

"Nope" She responded, popping her 'p' as she had the first they had met. "Michael has trained me to dislike them until they come out on DVD when I can then watch them on my own with only slight mocking from him."

Warren shook his head with a slight smirk.

"So...anything?" Michael asked again.

"What about 300?" Deja asked.

"Sure, s'bout the only good looking movie out right now. Has enough gore and stuff..."

After Deja got her coca cola slushie and both the boys got large popcorns, they walked into the dark theatre. Deja sat in the middle, Warren and Michael on either side of her.

In Deja's mind, she remarked on Gerard Butler's abs, as well as her quick and silent mourning for the blonde guy. She didn't remember their names, but the fact that he was killed in front of his dad, in battle, and just because she was a girl therefore, his abs and biceps did not leave her mind untainted, she then gasped when he was beheaded.

Warren had turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. In turn, Deja had not noticed and her eyes stayed onto the screen as her hand slid to get some popcorn from Warren. She had been intermittently switching between the two to get popcorn since her slushie had finished.

About mid-point, Michael had gone to get himself some more popcorn and a hotdog. Cochino! (Pig) Deja thought.

During that time though, she and Warren were left alone. Deja winced a couple of times during some more gore. One of her legs clad in her shin length grunge boots was bent under her, her arms resting on the arm rests.

Warren began to become really aware of how close they were. With Michael there, it hadn't been so much of an issue, but now, it was eerily present.

He felt this impulse to touch her and somehow, without obeying his mind, his hand began to creep so that it could take hold of Deja's which had ben circled around her slushie despite it being empty.

She jolted slightly and he wasn't sure if it was because Gerard butler's wife had just agreed to sell her body in exchange for some help or because of his hand. Seconds later, when that scene had left, Deja looked to him and then to his hand which had taken hers away from the cup to rest on the arm rest in his grasp.

She gave a small smile and turned back to the movie.

Ever so slowly, both began to shift. First it was just her head on his shoulder. Then his hand went from around hers to lay on her shoulder. From this she nestled her head into the crook of his neck more comfortably. Somehow, the armrest had come up at some point and her hands had come rest on her lap, her arm slightly touching his torso.

Sure, these Spartan guys were built with better than just six packs, but Warren was practically cradling her and his scent of Chinese food, leather and just something distinctly Warren wafted about her. Screw Gerard Butler, Warren Peace was right here.

Michael still hadn't returned but Deja didn't mind. That just meant she could enjoy how Warren's fingers were playing with her hair, or how every time she winced when another character died he would squeeze her slightly.

When Deja sensed someone coming down the aisle, she began to shift from her comfortable position. She was then relieved she had done so as she saw Michael coming.

Warren also took back his arm, somewhat reluctantly. But for the rest of the movie, their knees touched and Deja may not have been aware of it, but she had grabbed Warren's hand as the millions of arrows had flown upon the remaining Spartans.

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The weekend passed by with no problemo but Michael sensed that something had happened in the theatre when he had been gone. True, he had been absent for longer that usual, but some pretty cashier was just begging for some flirting.

He had asked Deja in a subtle way but she had shrugged it off.

Deja on the other hand knew that when Ms. Gilbert presented a picture of her Brit hero boyfriend to her that she could also have a say. She had acted on all those coulda woulda shoulda's. Maybe Ms. Gilbert was right about having a relationship.