Disclaimer: I do NOT own Teen Titans...but I should...GIVE IT TO ME! Please? Ah, damn it, it was worth a shot.
A/N: I apologize that the chapter is shorter than the others yet took longer to get up, but a three-week trip, combined with other interests and a mild case of writer's block, brought the creativity to a low ebb. I'll try to do better next time.
Mind and Body Chapter 4: Once Upon a Time in New York City
Rachel's face had sunk back into its normal, blank expression in an instant after Anthony had decided it wouldn't be safe for her to stay. Garfield peered at her face as Anthony packed up a good supply of food and one of his old sweatshirts. "It'll be cold at this time of year, so you should have some layers." He said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Rachel snorted and took the backpack brusquely.
"Where's the ferry landing?" she asked, having learned what method she would be using minutes before, "I should get going before anything untoward happens."
You mean we should get going, of course. Garfield reminded her.
She managed a smile and nodded. "You're right; we should get going."
Anthony shuddered at the implication of the one-sided conversation happening in front of him. He would never get used to it. He straightened and spoke again, "It's on the sea front about 15 minutes from here to the north. But I will drive you there, so it wasn't really necessary to know…." He was cut off by a flat look from Rachel. "No," she said, "I do need to know: I don't want you to drive me there. It should only be about an hour by foot and I don't want to be around you more than I have to be."
He was brought up short by that, and subsided. "I get it," he said, "I'll just give you the tickets then and let you go."
Rachel nodded, took the tickets, put them in her pocket and strode out of the door with Garfield, leaving Anthony to wonder if he had done the right thing or the easy thing.
Looking at her face under the hood, Garfield could see and sense the enforced frown holding back her tears.
The day was cloudy, and even though Raven's mind was uncertain, she found herself striding forward with assurance. Garfield trotted at her side until they had gone for a couple blocks and asked May I ride? Rachel stared at him until he explained, I would like to ride in the hood, is that okay?
Rachel hesitated, but realized she was wearing two hooded sweatshirts, so she raised the inner one and let the other hang down. Garfield jumped to a shoulder and curled up in the proffered hood, saying wake me when we get there.
After 60 minutes of walking she turned a corner to arrive at the port. It was a little smaller than she expected, but still large enough to hold fifty small ships, about fifteen larger ones, and the dozen ferries that took passengers no farther than the mainland. She slowly walked over to the ferries—not out of fear, as she was relieved to be leaving Manhattan, but out of a sense that she couldn't quite explain. A weight descended on her shoulders, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was responsibility. She now had responsibility for where her life would lead.
It was a heady feeling.
She walked up to the gate and handed over her ticket to the man blocking her path. He glanced at it, nodded, and told her to go to the third ferry on the right. She lightly stepped on the creaking wood and steadied herself at the slight swaying. She swallowed and started walking a little quicker. The pier's bobbing unnerved her a little, but she made it to the gently rocking boat sitting on the steely gray waters and boarded. Careful, Garfield said in her head, there's a couple people here that would hurt you to get what they want. Rachel nodded, she could sense the sailor that was smoking outside of the door wanted to "put her in her place" for no discernable reason, and the woman who was about to exit the same door had a remarkably well-guarded mind. She said as much to Garfield, adding the simple fact that they were in more control of themselves than Cameron had been, so there was nothing to fear. Well, Garfield chuckled, you certainly didn't need me for that one, did you?
Rachel's mouth twitched and then she remembered the incident that had precipitated her escape from Khale. Garfield? She asked mentally, There is something you could help me with.
What is it? He asked curiously.
I seem to have another ability that I didn't know about before.
Ooh, Garfield said in fascination, What is it?
Well, I don't know what to call it, but I kinda broke Cameron's arm…without touching it. I think Anthony used the word "Telekinesis". Anyway, that power isn't like the thought-sensing I usually do, because I can hurt things and people in the outside world with it. She shuddered at the thought. I need to be able to control it, because if I don't….
You might destroy things you don't want destroyed, Garfield completed, that's a problem, all right.
How do you control your power? She thought to him as she walked to the outer rail, yours is frightening enough, how do you stop it from doing something you don't want?
Well, I mostly focus on preventing it completely and only let it out when I need it. Usually it does what I want.
That won't work for me, Rachel thought, this thing inside me seems to be stronger than that.
After thinking about it for a moment, Garfield started at the sound of the whistle but relaxed as the ferry slipped its hawsers and was on its way to mainland New York. They turned to watch the place of their birth fade into the distance but never quite disappear. Garfield mentally sighed, I don't know how to help you, I'm afraid.
Rachel rubbed the bridge of her nose. At the sound of a woman's voice behind her, saying "Are you alone?" she whipped around, accidentally wrapping a small section of the metal railing in black energy and twisting it away from the rest. Rachel, hoping whoever it was hadn't noticed, looked at the woman and let it drop.
She was slightly less than average height, wearing a brown suit dress and medium-high heels, her chocolate hair was done up in a ponytail and a black shoulder bag was resting against her side as she adjusted slim glasses on her aquiline nose. "Are you alone?" she repeated, and Rachel realized this young woman was the one who guarded her mind as if she was around Rachel's type constantly. Because of this, Rachel believed she would be helpful.
"Yes," she muttered.
The woman nodded absently as if she found nothing wrong with a 6-year-old traveling the ferry alone, and said "Why don't we talk?' Rachel was so startled by this that she followed the woman to a couch inside the ferry's main cabin without complaint. "My name is Amanda Holder, what's yours?" the woman, Amanda, started immediately, Rachel gave her the answer, and Amanda nodded again. "I'm a psychologist, which means I help people who have problems in their minds, and I noticed that you are disturbed," Brushing over Rachel's bemused silence, Amanda continued, "As I am Christian, I believe in good deeds, and I would like to help you."
Rachel stared, and turned her thoughts to Garfield, What do you think?
I don't know, he replied silently, normally I would say it's too good to be true, but she's not lying.
How do you know that? She asked, baffled, her thoughts are too guarded for me to make out any intentions.
He mentally smiled, body language has nothing to do with how guarded the thoughts are, and everything to do with the intentions. Even if her mind guards her secrets, her body screams them to anyone sensitive enough to listen. For now we can trust her, but you should be prepared to change that in the future.
Hearing Amanda talk on the way to New York was not entirely what Rachel would have expected, as she seemed to find pleasure in announcing the mental problems that people around her suffered from. Apparently her job was all about that, so she had simply decided to get paid for her pleasure. She was not a nice person, but she did offer a room in her town house until they could find something else, so Rachel reluctantly accepted the offer.
Upon landing in New York, Amanda immediately took them to a taxi that brought them to a large, square, brown building. The condominium inside was ordinary, but nice, and Rachel prepared to search for a way to leave New York and head west: she didn't want to be anywhere near Manhattan.
The next day, as it was five thirty in the afternoon, Rachel was woken up by two voices, one of which she recognized as Amanda's, talking quietly. Silently slipping from under the quilt she shushed Garfield's sleepy grumble at her back and peered out. The visitor's mind was jumbled up in such a chaotic manner that Rachel could immediately see why Amanda's mind was guarded: even people without her talent would be badly affected by the presence of a mind such as this.
At that point Amanda noticed her in the doorway and smiled quickly before turning back to the man in a beige suit. She asked him what the last thing he said was, and he answered reasonably enough, but Rachel could see the truth: his thoughts never settled for more than half a second before moving on to the next subject, and there was hardly ever any logical progression. The battering of so many random thoughts gave her a headache until she tuned in instead on Garfield's waking dreams. Thinking to see him chasing a mouse, she was surprised to see instead a closed door that was seen from a remarkable angle—near the floor, as if she were lying on the floor and looking nearly straight up. It was bright white and featureless except for a tiny window in the upper quarter. There was also a smell that was vaguely familiar. It was sharp and clean, but had a slight chemical tinge to it. However, despite its familiarity, Rachel was not able to put a name to it.
Rachel shrugged, sat on the bed, and started to scratch Garfield behind the ears. He purred in reaction and thrust his head under her hand. Oh that feels good, he thought, more, give me more. Rachel stopped and went to pull her hand away, but Garfield woke fully and grabbed at her hand with his paws.
At that point Amanda entered the room and—like before—immediately started talking. "I know you may not like this question," she began, "But there must be a reason for your secretiveness. Before I leave for my party, I would like one favor from you."
"What is it?" Rachel asked suspiciously.
"May I see what you look like?"
The curiosity was not surprising, but Rachel still wasn't prepared for it. After a moment's hesitation, she lowered her hood. Amanda's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "My my," she murmured, "I see why you kept your hood up. Well, this makes it a little easier to explain: I occasionally get a sense from people that they can do things that are…special. I don't understand the feeling myself, but I got it from you in greater amounts than ever before." She shook her head slowly in thought. "In other words, I know that you have a surprising ability, and my curiosity will not allow me to leave the exact nature of it a mystery. I'm afraid I must take a liberty with you: please tell me…what can you do?"
Rachel froze.
There was no way she could tell her…not only would that be directly against her survival, but she would never believe the truth. So should she lie? Or not say anything? Desperately she tried to pull herself together after this fright, but her vision was blurred; she couldn't make out anything outside of her head clearly, let alone analyze her own thoughts.
Then, in the midst of her unthinking desperation, Garfield slipped from her side to her lap and gently rested his head against her leg. This simple act of reassurance was enough to calm her down slightly, but she was still confused.
What should I do? She asked Garfield silently.
I don't know, he said quietly, but I'll tell you what we don't do: we don't tell her the truth.
You're right: I'll lie first because she won't take silence for an answer—
Wait a second! Garfield said urgently in her head, How do we know she really has that kind of power? The kind of power that lets her know who else has talents?
What do you mean?
I think you should ask her what makes her think you have a power.
Isn't what we're doing now a power?
But does she know what we're doing?
Realizing that truth, Rachel finally looked directly at Amanda and could feel, just for an instant, her thoughts. It was surprise: obviously the color of Rachel's eyes had unnerved Amanda far more than Rachel's hair. That glimpse into Amanda's mind was enough: in this house, Rachel was nothing more than a scientific curiosity. Amanda had not become aware of Garfield, as her fascination with Rachel had blinded her to other oddities, but the glimpse wasn't enough to confirm whether or not she had her supposed power. Of course, if Amanda didn't have any real awareness of her own power, then Rachel would not be able to discover it anyway.
She took a breath that she attempted to conceal, and murmured, "What are you talking about? Why would you think I can do something…special?"
Amanda clapped her hands impatiently. "Come, come, there's no use in lying: even if I didn't have those flashes of insight, it is painfully obvious now that you are unique and have unique abilities. You have confirmed it yourself."
"What?" Rachel said in honest alarm, and she blurted out, "How did you know?"
Amanda looked at her with a smile that seemed more practiced than anything. "My dear, translating body language is my job."
Garfield jerked at that and Rachel gaped. "As you now know," Amanda continued, "I will not accept a false answer, and I am afraid I cannot allow an unknown power to bunk in my guest bedroom."
"Is this an eviction notice then?" Rachel said.
"If I don't know what you can do, then yes." Amanda revealed an iron-hard will with that single sentence.
Rachel sighed. "I can…protect myself. I can stop things that are about to hurt me."
Excellent, Garfield thought, mix a little truth into it.
"Hmm," Amanda murmured to herself, "A force field…. Liar."
Rachel drew herself up at that. "What can you really do?" Amanda asked piercingly. Rachel sighed in defeat. "I can see people's thoughts; I can read minds. Or I can when it's unguarded: I can't read your mind, because it's protected, and I can't read the mind of something that doesn't have one, like the insane or a plant. I can't control it: the information comes to me freely. I can't stop it."
In silence, Amanda stared at her. She rose, the pink cocktail dress rustling about her knees, and took out a small cosmetics unit. She dusted her cheeks as she mulled the startling truth over in her mind. However, even now Rachel could not pierce Amanda's defenses, and she couldn't help but think that the ability many would kill for had no advantages, and far too many weaknesses.
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A/N: Oh, and you know that "other interest" I was talking about? Well, its name is "Hunter X Hunter", and if any show is as good or, dare I say it, better than Teen Titans (El Gasp!) then it is that one. So adios, amigo, and I hope you have fun reading. Seriously though, if there's anyone out there who is tired of watching shows that are widely known and wants to see a hidden gem, then do yourself a MAJOR favor and check out "Hunter X Hunter".
Its low-profile reception is strange, too, because it comes from the author of Yu Yu Hakusho.
Anyway, I'll stop advertising and leave you to your entertainment.