Chapter Two: Enter Rachel (or Nate Takes Charge)
Rather unceremoniously, he declared he was leaving. No one was alarmed until he told Scott not to follow or call. (Totally unnecessary, but he enjoyed the illusion of making the decision.)
With Xavier AWOL and Dr. MacTaggert dead, Nate didn't have a trustworthy expert to turn to in his hour of need. On a bit of a lark, he crashed with his other-dimensional sister, Rachel. She lacked the uber-control-freak-disguised-as-altruism prevalent in so many of his friends. When he set boundaries, he trusted her to respect them.
"Of course you can stay!" She said. "You'll have to take the couch."
"Fine."
"And you'll need a job."
"A what now?"
She smirked. "I know it'll be tough, but I can't pay the bills a sob story."
"I'm sick. I came to you for help!"
"Waaah! Waaah!" She cried obnoxiously like an infant. "That's all I hear."
"I could be dying!"
"Then you'll definitely need a job. List me as your beneficiary so I can give you a decent burial."
"Are you even going to pretend to help me?" He crossed his arms.
"Stop being so melodramatic. Come have a seat and tell big sis all about your problems."
"Could you please not sit on my bed?"
"Jesus!" She rolled her eyes and moved from the couch to the window-sill. The apartment was tiny; one bedroom, a closet bathroom, and no closets. Her "kitchen" doubled as a storage place for her books and shoes. And this was to be his home…
He sighed. "My powers are returning."
"Really? That's fantastic!"
"No one knows and I don't want them to."
"Okay. May I ask why?"
"Because… I've been seeing somethings and I'm not entirely sure they really exist."
She nodded slowly. "Like what?"
"There's… this… girl…" He waited for her to react but she didn't. "I see her at all points in her life. And I'm there – that universe's me is there. And we… love her."
"Can they see you?"
"No," he said. "But she heard me today. Then my nose started bleeding."
Her spine buckled and her eyes filled with sorrow. Good! She was finally taking this seriously!
"I'm sure it's nothing," he said modestly. "The nose bleed, I mean, not her. Can you help me reach her?"
"…That's what you want help with?"
His face burned as he nodded.
"This is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard," she said, "But I'm glad you came to me. We have a lot of enemies. This is probably a trap. Are you okay to do this now?"
"Let's get started."
On a tropical beach, half a dozen school-aged children ran into the surf. The adults set up their towels and umbrellas. Emma and Scott were among them and she shouted: "Stay where I can see you!" to the rowdy kids. Nate sat with his tablet and immediately got to work, seemingly oblivious to the beautiful day around him. But periodically, his eyes strayed to the blond bombshell in a red bikini beside him.
"I can see why you like her," Ray said.
"It's not… not like that…" Nate shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the thin triangles of fabric over her breasts.
When she sat up, he could see the shape of her nipples protruding through, and the top threatened to break as she dug a small hole beneath her towel. She laid her towel over it and then lay so that her breasts fit into the newly-dug spot. With a content sigh, she murmured, "That's better."
"She has Gambit's eyes," she remarked.
"She does?"
"Have your eyes ever gotten higher than this?" she asked, pointing to her chest.
He scowled. "I don't gaze in the eyes of other men, Rachel!"
She closed her eyes and obnoxiously stuck out her jaw. "What color are my eyes, Nathaniel?"
"Ha! Trick question! They change color."
"They're green!" she snarled.
"So they are."
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Men! On the bright side, you're not crazy. This dimension is legit."
"Isn't it beautiful? Don't you wish we could stay?"
"And see Emma every day? No thanks. We have beaches at home, you know."
"None to rival this," he watched her porcelain skin turn pink. Sand dusted her backside and would leave reverse freckles after she burned.
"What's her name?"
"Everyone calls her 'On."
"Like… short for 'Anya'?"
"Maybe."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're in love alright! This isn't lust at all! We have beautiful women back home, too."
"I've got a better chance with this one since she can't hear me."
Her frustration melted to laughter and then reformed as sorrow. "What are you hoping for?"
"Love has no goal. It's merely an impulse we're enslaved to."
That night, they began tethering his mind to hers. Rachel's strength kept him anchored in reality, but it also chafed. Nothing in his life equaled the enjoyment of seeing 'On – a thrill that weakened with a chaperon.
Ray wasn't joking about him getting a job. He tried his hand at dog walking, house-sitting, and as a mail-room clerk, but he wasn't cut out for traditional occupations. On rainy days, he refused to walk dogs, he usually forgot which house he was supposed to be tending, and was terminated from the mailroom for defacing a motivational poster. Honestly, the cheery man's eyes followed Nate everywhere he went. That thing deserved to be destroyed; it was supernatural!
Finally, she pulled some strings and got him a job filing paperwork in a lawyer's office. The last guy must've been thumbless because the files were literally stacked to the ceiling. Well, if the work had waited this long, he figured it could wait a little longer. He hit up the local coffee shop and met some free-spirited college students who invited him to share poetry. Who was he to refuse? It was a lovely experience; he didn't regret going, but his boss was waiting to fire him the second he returned.
He couldn't go home and tell Ray. She'd be so disappointed. He was tired of failing of people. Why couldn't he do something great like all the other superheroes? He'd done the training; he'd suffered his life-altering trauma… When did it finally come together?
At the park, he flipped through a newspaper and saw a missing persons' flyer.
"This is how I'm going to help people!"
Ray pursed her lips. "You got fired again, didn't you?"
"A small, dark office for tedious, repetitious tasks… Come on, that's not me. This! is me. I'm psychic and telepathic. What could go wrong?"
"Okay, but you can't just take people's money and tell them where their loved one's hidden. You have to be licensed by the State."
"Or do I?"
"You do. I won't harbor a tax evader. Mutants face enough prejudice without you giving them ammunition."
"Very well. I'll render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's but what's-her-face needs help now."
She smiled softly. "I like this you. Ambitious. Selfless. You should be this way more often."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but Spider-Man's lectured me about the dangers of incest and I've decided to abstain."
Her face scrunched. "What?! Gross!"
"Calm yourself, I was never attracted to you. Madelyne and I-"
"I don't wanna hear this! Get out of here and call what's-her-face's family, you perv!"
"Brandi was always such a good girl," her mother sobbed. "I don't know who would want to hurt her!"
"Mrs. Cornell," said Nate, "I'm not a cop. I'll find your daughter no matter what kind of girl she was. I'm psychic, remember? You can speak the truth. I won't think any less of your or Brandi."
She swallowed thickly and wiped her tears away. "She had a boyfriend. Who was married. The cops talked to him, searched his house, never found a thing. But I know he's behind it."
"You think he killed her?"
Her chin trembled. "You're the fortune-teller. What do you think?"
"Son, I've got some bad news about Honor," Nate's father said over the phone. His mother rounded the corner, looking concerned. "She's missing. Just walked out in the middle of the night. Her parents asked me to take over the search. I'll give you a call as soon as I know something. She didn't mention anything to you, did she? Something she wanted that her parents disapproved of..?"
Nate rubbed his eyes. "I'll pay him a visit and see what I can find."
Honor. A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. It was sweet torture to be so near, see her so often, and yet remain unseen.
Ray would've lost her shit if she knew he'd slipped her leash. She wanted to chaperon and limit his visits. She was worried he'd lose his bearings if he traversed too often. Determined he knew better, he started sneaking off… Only to realize she was right. He could no longer control when he slipped between dimensions. As scary as it was to lose control, he'd sooner die than admit he'd been wrong.
To master his powers, he first had to master his thoughts... He had to stay focused on this world.
Perhaps Brandi would prove a suitable distraction.
"We already talked to the cops!" The wife of Brandi's ex-boyfriend said. "Why can't you leave us alone?!"
She slammed the door in his face.
He touched the door knob and saw that Brandi had indeed been here… And left alive. No murderous hand had touched this house before him.
"Could I see her things, Mrs. Cornell?"
He touched the corner of her neatly-made bed and saw a heavy man corner Brandi. "You wanna be responsible for their deaths?" He showed her pictures of her mother and boyfriend. "Do this. Or they die. As easy as I took these pictures, I can take their lives."
When he touched her nightstand, he saw that she usually hid her drugs there. They were all gone now, of course. She'd cleaned house before leaving in a panic. For the docks. He wrestled with telling her mother Brandi was alive, and ultimately decided against it. Just because she'd left alive didn't mean she stayed that way.
Honor sat on a bed watching TV. Or more accurately, listening to the TV. Thick bandages covered her eyes and fingers. She turned her head in his direction. "Who's there?" He didn't answer. "Nathan?" she whispered. Her bottom lip trembled and she said, "Are you dead?" He slowly backed out of the room as she curled up and sobbed.
Much later, they were in a different corner of the globe. The air was thick with death. She lay in a hospital bed; him, at her side and holding her arm. They both appeared asleep but he doubted that was the case. Then he saw another Honor standing at the foot of the bed. She turned to him. "You're not my Nate."
"No… You can see me?"
She looked at herself in the bed. "They need to hurry. I don't want to die but I can't wait much longer."
"You're in the hospital a lot."
She laughed. "I hit life full-force."
Deciding to do the same, he tilted his face up and softly kissed her bottom lip. Her eyes widened and he kissed her again, this time more squarely on the mouth. She tentatively kissed him back. Her hands lifted, her fingers flexed, and pulled back as if she was unsure what to do with them. Had she never kissed a man before?
At the docks, a lot of people shouted at him "you're trespassing!" and "you aren't supposed to be here!" but no one bothered to stop him. Brandi had come this way. He could barely see her imprint in the time stream, but he vividly felt her fear. She'd picked up two big suitcases and boarded a cargo vessel illegally. That boat was long gone.
Well, shit.
"Hey buddy! You lost?" someone shouted.
"Agent Chris Carter, DEA," he said with an air of authority. "A cargo ship was here three days ago. What was its destination?"
"I… Couldn't say. We get hundreds of boats. Dispatch might know."
He thanked the man and used his telepathy to convince the dispatcher he had the authority of the law to review the traffic logs. Two vessels were suspect, but one went to Seattle and the other to Mexico. He put his money on the later.
Using the dispatcher's phone, he called his sister and told her that he was following Brandi to Mexico.
"Wait for me," she instructed. "There's safety in numbers."
"The only thing you're gonna knock out is an army of margaritas."
"My couch is nicer than a park bench! I'll be there in fifteen. Wait."
Sisters were so obnoxious.
When she showed up in a bright floral dress and flip-flops that loudly slapped her feet, he wanted to push her into the harbor.
"We're supposed to be DEA agents!"
She looked confused. "Wouldn't we be undercover?"
"That's actually… I hate you. Let's go."
…
To Be Continued…