"Mother!" Warren stormed into his home, looking angrily for his mother. She emerged from the kitchen, wearing jeans and a loose fitting black knit sweater. She was wiping her hand son a dish towel and her hair was tied back into a tight bun. She looked confused.
"What is it, Warren? Is something wrong?" She really lived up to her maiden name of Peace. She had no temper to speak of and was always calm and serene.
"What is your power? I have never seen you use it, and I got dads. So what the hell is yours?" Warren, on the other hand, had a quick temper and took after his father in personality and temper. His hands started to smoke and his mother handed him an ice block to cool them off. When he got incredibly angry or confused, he sometimes lost control.
"Why do you ask? It's never been important before."
"Well, I'd never been healed from gaping wound to no wound in less then 10 seconds!" He was practically screaming, and she just stood there. When she was sure he was done yelling, she pulled him over to their couch and sat him down.
"What you have obviously assumed is correct. My power is to heal myself. Occasionally, in very extreme cases, I am able to heal others. But I only can in life or death situations. You have been able to heal yourself your whole life. You just have never noticed. Why do you think you never had a broken bone or cut? You did, but they all healed before you noticed that they were even there." She looked at him. Warren's jaw had dropped and he was looking at her with an odd expression, one of almost disbelief.
"I can't get hurt? What about aging? Why do I keep getting older? And why do I have this scar?" Warren showed her the scar across his stomach. He had gotten it before Shy High. The kids at his middle school and eve some kids in high school had considered him "weird" and had mocked him and made fun of him mercilessly. One day in eighth grade after school, he had attacked one only to receive a slash from a knife across the chest. He had come home bleeding and angry, and had almost burnt their apartment building down. That was the day he discovered the roof of the Paper Lantern.
"I don't know why that one never healed. It was probably because of the anger and hatred left in your system and the emotions that had caused you to start the fight. Just a little reminder to not start fights." She gave him a pointed look, which he ignored. He was too busy realizing something.
"Last year, when Will Stronghold threw me through the walls...I wasn't hurt. I never thought about it before, but no I understand."
"Warren, you mustn't tell anyone about your new power. People with two powers are rare, and it will put you in great danger. Your father's enemies and allies will come looking for you toe either stop you from a future that they think will be evil, or to force you into a future of evil."
He understood what she meant. He didn't particularly feel like being captured, harassed, or killed because of his dad's reputation.
A few weeks later, Warren had learned how to control his newfound power. He could slow down the healing, or stop it all together. He could speed it up, too. He was proud, though he would never admit it to anyone, even himself.
He really got to practice with it when he fell off the roof of the school while getting a soccer ball Will had kicked "lightly". He fell hard on the ground and slowed down his healing so his friends wouldn't see his new skin covering the bloody flesh.
"Oh my god! War, are you ok?" Layla had panic in her voice. He knew what thoughts were racing through her mind. Was he ok? Where was the nearest adult? Where were the medical supplies? He calmed her and his other friends down my getting up and walking over to his bike and pulling out some bandages from the pack he always carried in the storage compartment and cleaning his wound then wrapping it. He didn't know how he would explain how it had healed the next day, but that thought was saved for later.
