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Well here's Chapter 8:

Max P.O.V:

The apartment was completely dark...and empty. When I'd left Alec's, I was in high spirits. But now, looking at the inky blackness—well, as close to 'inky blackness' as you can get with revved-up-transgenic eyesight, I felt my buoyant mood start to dissipate. At times like these, I missed Original Cindy the most. Heck, I even miss Normal and Sketchy! What I'd give for another crappy day at Jam Pony, endlessly pedaling my bike and putting on a fake-assed smile. I mean, I can't even go out for a walk outside Terminal City's gates anymore. Alec had said something about exposure and White. Right: Ames and His Familiars. That's why. I let out a sigh; I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance.

Terminal City had started out as a safe haven for transgenics. The home we never had. But lately…Lately it's turned into nothing more than a prison.

Instantly, I felt ashamed for having these thoughts.

Terminal City might not exactly be heaven and the pay sucks…But seeing my family together, anomalies and X's, for once in their lives, feeling something other than fear—and I dare hope; happiness, makes it all worthwhile.

For no particular reason, (except for the small issue of having shark DNA) sleep was definitely out of the question…

When in doubt, meditate.

With that in mind, I set out to find obtain the necessary materials; a pillow, a blanket, and a hairpin.

After laying down the blanket and setting the materials aside, I was finally ready.

'Alright, Max, relax.'

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That much was easy.

'What do we need? Let's see; food, medical supplies, a sofa for Ephialtes, cigars for Mole—'

Squeal!

The mice were at it again. With great difficulty, I managed to block out all noise, such as leaking faucets and the occasional squeak of the building.

Hmmm. I wonder what Alec is doing right now…

Snap out of it, soldier! Relax already…

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe iiiiiiiiin. Breeaathe oooooouuuut.

I felt the air, and the normally non-existent breeze, shrouding my body. I felt the hardness of the floorboard under the scratchy blanket. Ignoring the toxins, I managed to smell the crispiness of the night air. I've never felt more rejuvenated in all my life.

And then suddenly, there was…nothing.

I couldn't feel, sense, hear, or even think of anything. In fact, I almost mistook myself as half-asleep at one point.

I don't know how long I sat there. The world seemed to come at a standstill. For the first time, in a long time, I was at peace with myself. No conflicted emotions and no stress. Just nothing.

And then all of a sudden, a cacophony of noise assaulted my eardrums. It was everywhere, overwhelming me. I could hear dogs barking and people snoring, many miles away from Terminal City.

"Vrrooom!" A motorcycle in the distance.

"Honk!" Sounded a horn. Discourteous people. Didn't they know that others might be sleeping? Seriously!

I opened my eyes; an oversight on my part, no pun intended.

A blinding flash of light devastated my eyes!

It was the moon, I soon realized. My other senses were on fire, too! Suddenly, the putrid scent of toxins stung my nose, much stronger this time, making my eyes water. If I'd thought it was bad before, it was unbearable now. I put a hand in front of my eyes to shield it from the excruciating glare.

You can control this, Max!

Finding an improved sense of resolve, I opened my eyes slowly, giving my pupils time to adjust to the light and wishing I'd done this earlier. As for the nose…I painfully suffered the effects of the toxins. It's bound to adjust in time. Ha! Famous last words.

But my ears! The noise was meshing together to create a most unpleasant disharmony.

Focus!

Breathe in, breathe out. I put all effort into breathing, paying heed to the rise and fall of my chest, the thumping of my heart.

There you go! This isn't so bad!

Yeah, sure…and the Roswell Incident was really nothing more than a Weather Balloon with dummies.

After all, it's such a common occurrence for people to wake up one day and think, 'Hey! Let's put a bunch of plastic people on a balloon and see what happens!'

Now, I'm not sure how to explain this next part being that I don't even understand it myself…I kind of willed my ears to shut down—albeit not completely, and ease up on the sensitivity a little. It was surprisingly easy and not to mention effective.

Immediately, the barking dogs and the snoring people seemed to disappear. I let out an appreciative sigh.

My heart beat decreased. It was so unproblematic and outrageously simple to just get up and call it quits. Forget that this ever happened and somehow ignore my hyped-up senses. But I needed to step up to the plate; professing indifference to my powers won't make them go away…or help things get any better. Instead, I picked up the hairpin and placed it on the center of my palm. If I can 'will' my ears to blockade the unnecessary clamor, then it'd be easy as hell to lift a hairpin!

I mentally pictured it levitating in the air before me…to no avail.

I tried again. And again. And again. Aghhh! This is soooo not working! I was getting frustrated. How can it be so hard to do this? I mean, I've had my powers for a couple of days now…I should be able to control it! I felt the feelings of helplessness and bitterness coming over me and, suddenly, I was mad.

Very mad.

And, surprise! The hairpin started to float in midair! At first, was just sitting on the middle of my palm, shaking. Then, unbelievably, it started to rise, slowly gaining speed.

Huh.

As my temper started to subside, it dropped back down to my palm.

Problem solved.

I repeated the process several times, recalling the precise moment when Logan had called my family freaks. The anger I'd felt was overpowering. The hairpin lifted up each time, getting higher and higher until it reached the ceiling.

But my powers were solely dependent on my emotions. That could prove to be inconvenient in the future. I had to find a way to control them without meditating for hours on end and infuriating myself.

Taking a calming breath, I concentrated on the black contraception before me.

I imagined billions and billions of atoms coming together to form a whole; different elements exposed to various degrees of temperature and pressure to shape the final product; a tiny, black hairpin.

So much complexity in such a miniscule and simple object, whose only purpose is to hold up, well, hair!

I dedicated myself wholly into raising it up. My breath was coming in short gasps and I could actually picture my face turning purple with concentration…and then bam!

A gust of power burst forth, unrestricted, from me and the hairpin started to soar! It continued to gain speed. Stop! It froze in midair, just a couple of feet from my head.

Now, hold it! Hold it there, Max! That's right, you can do it!

'Great,' I couldn't help thinking, 'I'm the freakin' commander of Terminal City, capable of telekinesis, and I can't even get my own damn cheerleader!

To think that I am capable of telekinetically moving objects! Amazing! I felt unstoppable, unbeatable…

The pin dropped.

Damn it! Oh, well.

I repeated the process again and again for several hours. I got so into it that I didn't even notice the sun rising. When I did--notice I mean, it was already 9:01. Whoops.

I hurriedly showered and got a new change of clothes. I blurred to Ephialte's apartment. I noticed that, contrary to what I'd guessed last night, the smell had not improved.

The good news was that my eyes were now capable of adjusting very well. Curious, I dilated my pupils a bit more…Shit! I fell to my knees, hands covering my eyes, as the I fully experienced the wrath of the unforgiving sun. Me and my feline tendencies.

Properly chastised, I resumed my super-blurring.

Milliseconds later (literally), I arrived at Ephialte's.

Lo and behold, the most beautiful sigh in the world! It was sitting innocently on the counter, surrounded by a beam of light coming froma nearby window. The smell was gloriously delicious. Definitely a welcome change. It wafted up my nostrils, making my stomach growl.

With predatory grace, I approached the counter and swiftly grabbed a Kirspy Kreme, stuffing it whole into my mouth. Mmmm…Muy Delicioso! I groaned in appreciation as the perfect combination of sugary icing and grease-fried, soft dough assaulted my taste buds. Only after my hunger was satiated, did I take a cursory glance around the apartment.

Mole was under the sink, a stream of superfluous curse words shooting from his mouth, and his cigar mysteriously absent. Alec was on the sofa, watching me intently. Our eyes caught and held.

"Apparently, 'eight-ish' was Max-speak for 9 o'clock." Ephialte's voice broke our connection.

"I was held up."

He nodded and said in a voice that led me to believe otherwise, "I believe you."

I scowled at him. And then I heard a strange sound…What was that? It sounded like a dead whale. No, more like a drowned beaver. Oh, I know! It's a beaver-whale hybrid, who drowned and is now, for obvious reasons, dead. I looked towards the direction of the noise…To find myself wronged once again.

There was no beaver/whale hybrid…

No, instead it was Mole… laughing. Simultaneously, we looked from him, to each other, and then back to him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," Alec intercepted smoothly.

Mole just shrugged and ducked his head back down under the sink.

I turned toward Alec. "Why aren't you helping?"

"Clever observation there, Maxie. You see, my job was to hook in the electricity."

"And you're done?"

He looked affronted. "Maxie, you dare doubt my capabilities?"

I rolled my eyes. "Doubt? Of course, not…"

He smirked.

"…just seriously suspect."

He clutched his heart in fake incense. "You cut me deep, Max. Real deep."

"Apparently, not deep enough; you're still talking."

"Ah, well. Maybe next time," Ephialte put in for good measure.

My head whipped around, prepared to thank him for his efforts. But his expression stopped me. He was looking at Alec with something akin to mistrust…and his gaze was calculating, gradually turning satisfied. Like a man who's lost his all his lifesavings only to discover that's he's won the lottery.

His head turned, as if on slow motion, towards me and I recovered enough to give him a convincingly warm smile. He smiled back, all trace of previous emotion gone, to be replaced by a charming grin. I recollected myself; I needed to make sure he hadn't suspected something…if there's anything to suspect. Who knows? It could be Aunt Paranoia paying me another visit.

"There's no wrong in hoping," I offered.

Mole grunted. "Here, here."

"Hey! Now the whole gang's turned on me!"

I looked at Alec disbelievingly. "And you notice that now?"

He stuck out a tongue.

"Nice. Real mature, Alec."

I strolled over and nimbly sat atop the counter, which coincidentally placed me nearer to the donuts and, in turn, closer to Mole. A sacrifice I was willing to make.

"So, you guys need help in anything?"

Mole peeked out from under the counter. "Well, if you'd said that 2 hours ago, we might have had gone with a 'yes'…"

I kicked the space an inch from his head, putting a crack in the wood. Whoops. Forgot my own strength for a second there.

Mole looked at me strangely.

"What? I'm transgenic, so sue me."

I turned to Ephialte. "So, what'd you specialize in, anyway?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alec sit up in interest.

"Yeah, I don't recall seeing you before," Alec put in.

I gave him a sharp look and he shrugged.

Ephialte hesitated. "I was the Field Medic."

I nodded, impressed.

"Good. You can work with Saundra over at the Infirmary."

"You lucky bastard," Alec chimed in from his perch at the other end of the room, "Saundra's a hot one. Compliant, too." I shot him glare and he smirked. "Jealous, Max?"

"You wish."

"Well, like you said, there's no wrong in hoping." There was something about the way he said it that made me look him full in the eyes. His golden flecks were twinkling and I let out a relieved sigh.

But my heart was feeling…strange.

I ignored it and focused on Ephialte instead; he was starting to look a little crestfallen.

I gave him concerned glance. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head.

I just kept looking at him.

Finally, he relented. "It's just that I'm not good working with other transgenics…especially with women." He said the last part with embarrassment and, this time, I was almost positive that it had only been Aunt Paranoia visiting.

Alec snorted and I shot him my most piercing glare. He sobered.

I gazed at Ephialte tenderly, "I understand. I'll talk to Saundra...You can both work at different times. It'll definitely ease the load. Besides," I added at his skeptical look, "we need more people on recon and on lookout duty, anyway."

His face lightened up.

I jumped down from the counter. "Well, I'll be heading out."

"Where you going?" Alec asked a little too curiously.

"None of your business." My tone must have been sharp because he looked hurt.

"But I'll tell you anyway. I need to check with Dix about some stuff, talk to the inhabitants and find out what we need, track Ames, and talk to Saundra, among other things." I counted off each one.

Alec was looking at me weird. "Need a hand?"

I shook my head, secretly pleased that he asked. "Not really."

He sighed disappointedly and I felt unusually giddy.

"I guess I can see Saundra some other time."

My hopes came crashing down. Inside my chest, my heart lurched painfully. Comically, all I could think of was, 'Thank God, I started to meditate or else my hopes wouldn't be the only ones crashing right about now.'

This shocked me, more than anything. What hopes? We're not like that. At least, he's not like that.

Inside I was a mess, but I exhibited no outward signs of being affected.

Trying to act as normal as possible, I just rolled my eyes and blurred out the door.

White's P.O.V:

"What do you mean there's a delay in plans?" I shouted over the receiver. It was the scumbag.

"She hasn't shown interest in taking the cure, sir. Therefore, it has caused a minor change in protocol. Sir."

The voice was somewhat controlled yet in it lay an unmistakable current of frustration. I stored it in the back of my mind. So, the boy was a loaded gun. Seems to thinks he's superior to everyone, too. Hmmmm. That information could come in handy.

"Then make her take the cure! You were top of your class, for crying out loud! Use manipulation, anything! Just get her to take it! And make sure she doesn't suspect a thing!" I barked in annoyance.

"Yes, sir. Also, the male, 494, has shown an unusual interest in her and has led me to believe that he might view her in a more…romantic sense, sir."

Was it just me of did I sense some regret?

So, 452 has gotten herself a little admirer. That's certainly…interesting.

"And does she return the notion?"

Pause. "It's hard to tell. They do bicker a lot…But I can ascertain she views him as nothing more than a friend, sir."

I nodded, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see me. I let out a chuckle.

Oh, the complicated life of a transgenic.

"Humph. Well, report back as soon as you find out anything else. Also, I'll need you to get a hold of the area's layout. This time, contact Ulf, not me. It's too risky."

"Sir, yessir."

With that, I hung up the phone.

A/N: So, what do you guys think? Want to let me know? I got an idea! Put it in a review! Please! At least you'll sleep better at night knowing that you've made someone's life worth living…a bit dramatic? Well answer me this: is it working? R&R:)