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A/N This one is basically a flash back, the ones italicized is the flashback, just thought you should know cause it may be a little confusing.. Basically this one offers a little background information on the new character who's fundamentally the starting point of the story and the very core of the story itself.
So anyway, without further ado, here we go people, Chapter 3…
Normal's The Watchword. Or Is It?
Brooklyn sat at the edge of one of the tables, leaning back, her cuffed hands lay on the table and she had her feet stretched out under the table. She glowered at the two way mirror for a moment, knowing she was probably watched. She wondered if NYPD was going overboard here, so she happened to be driving a car that was reported stolen, by her grandparents she was sure, Caitlyn would never do something this drastic, but to hold an 18 year old in an interrogation room for 2 hours, sure they had better things to do with their time and energy.
The door opened and in strolled a female, late twenties, early thirties looking, blonde hair secured nicely in a pony tail. A police officer she presumed, maybe detective? There was badge on her hip next to the holster and the standard police issue gun, she walked in with a swagger, a cup of coffee in one hand and a file in another, her file, Brooke was sure.
"Thought you might be thirsty," she offered, placing the cup on the table in front of her.
"Okay, good cop," Brooke muttered as she leaned forward, taking the cup of coffee in her hands.
"Excuse me?" blondie officer said.
After taking a sip of the coffee, she settled the cup down, "Where's the bad cop?" she asked.
"Oh, he's behind the mirror," she replied, composed and not unnerved by Brooklyn's calm mockery.
"And you're holding me here why, officer?"
"Detective, actually, Detective Ellison," she corrected Brooklyn, "And we found you in a stolen vehicle, Brooklyn,"
"Reportedly stolen," she corrected the detective this time, "It's my car,"
"Not according to.. a Alice and Mike Cooper though, they were your legal guardians for a while weren't they?" the detective asked, "You see, I know all about you, Brooke, 18 years old, second year in NYU, med student, your parent's died when you were 6, you were forced here to live with your father's parents, and then a year and a half ago, one Caitlyn Hills waltzes back and claims custody of you, feel free to jump in anytime you want," she read of the file, stopping to look up at her.
After a moment's silence, she went on, "Shy? No problem, I'll just keep going, you'd be what most people classify as a juvenile delinquent, busted twice for shop lifting, once for destruction of public property with one John Allerdyce, your file is thicker than any average 18 year old you seem to have a knack for trouble, mostly related to Allerdyce including one suspected arson, you've had numerous minor offenses but you've always been a straight A student, 2 years ahead in high school, got a full ride at NYU, you seemed to have cleaned up your act just before you graduated form high school though, after the disappearance of your friend, Allerdyce, but now this Brooklyn? Don't think the school would like that very much," she went on.
"Tthe car's mine, okay? I needed some time off, so I took a little road trip, I guess my mum panicked and called my grandparents and they did this,"
"Road trip huh? How's that going so far?" she asked.
"Not bad, I got arrested driving up a freeway for allegedly stealing and driving my own car, and now I'm handcuffed and held in NYPD's interrogation room, just awesome!" Brooklyn replied matching the detective's sarcasm.
"This is not a game, Brooklyn," Detective Ellison said raising her voice for the first time.
"Really? Wow.. Though I can see how I misunderstood you with the handcuffs and all," she said and the female detective nearly scoffed, shaking her hear and leaving the room.
A tall male stood behind the mirror, fidgeting with a Mont Blanc black pen in his fingers, observing the cuffed girl sitting in the other room separated by a sheet of glass, deep in thought, taking in all of her appearance, from the purple streak in her straight blonde hair, to her purple eyes, to her movement, her actions, her speech.
"Won't be getting anything other than wise-crack out of her," said his blonde partner as she entered the viewing room standing next to her partner looking into the room as 2 police officers escorted Brooklyn to another room.
"Remind me again why a domestic squabble between a teen and her guardians are the top of the list for 2 NYPD homicide detectives?" she asked, complaining to her partner as his eyes trailed the girl being led out of the room still in cuffs by two uniformed officers. He merely shrugged and grunted a 'Dunno,' before they both exited the observation room.
"Miss Cooper?" the man with raven brown hair and a musty grey suit walked into the room.
"Yeah?" she replied automatically, looking away from the small window in the dingy room, turning to look at the source of the voice.
"I'm Jonathan Black, with the public defenders office," he stated as he closed the door behind him and went over to sit down by the table, placing his briefcase on the table, with one swift movement and opening it. 'How very movie like,' she thought as the district attorney took out a file, a notepad and a pen.
"Oh thank god, I am truly saved," she quipped sardonically turning back to look out the window again, surveying the surrounding, studying every detail, committing them to memory as her eyes swept over the surrounding environment.
"Well, the police haven't heard from your grandparents yet, so that's good, but there's always a chance that they will be filing charges, they did report it in stolen, and your record isn't exactly squeaky, so.."
"What'd they do with my car?" she asked cutting him off
"Do you understand how serious these charges are?" he asked, wondering if she was joking. Brooklyn merely chuckled.
"I'm handcuffed and there are 2 homicide detectives working on my case which strangely does Not include any homicides so yeah, I think I get it, just humor me," she replied before tossing her hair out of her eyes again.
"Well, you they haven't had it sent to the impound yet, so it should still be down at the police lot, now, can we discuss your ca-"
"Can I borrow a pin?" she asked cutting him off, again, tossing her head to the right a slight bit getting the fringe out of her eyes.
"Miss Cooper, I think your not understanding the weight of the situation you're in, you could go to jail," he explained trying not to lose his patience.
"Do you have a pin or not?" she asked again.
"Do I look like a 10 year old girl?" he asked, getting impatient with the girl in front of him.
"Oh, I must have misunderstood or something, I mean really, big man in a suit, briefcase, talking like a lawyer," she cleverly remarked, mocking the him before explaining, "You've got a pink ribbon sticking out of your back pocket, so I figured you either like to play dress up or you've got a little girl at home, and since you don't look like the kind who'd tie ribbons in your hair, it's the latter,"
He seemed genuinely surprised with her powers of observation and deduction.
"So you've got a pin in your pocket of ribbons to borrow me or not?" she asked yet again.
He stood up and dug around before retracting his hand from his back pocket, "You're in luck," he said, passing over a tiny pin to her and she pushed her hair back, pinning it down.
"Okay, let's start with.." he began sitting down but got cut off as the door opened and an officer poked his head into the room.
"Matlock, you're needed with your junkie in cell 5, something bout her paper work,"
"Excuse me," Michael the lawyer said and he left the room curtly, shutting the door behind him.
Brooklyn's eyes shifted from the pen on the table to the bars on the window as she plucked the pin out of her hair in her cuffed together hands.
"What do you think happened with her?" said a soft voice and Brooklyn swam towards the voice, hoping for the fog and the fuzz in her mind to go away. Her body felt sore and there was a pressure on her head that wouldn't go away. But not.. It was not a pressure. It was a pair of hands placed against her temple. She heard another voice coming in, but the voice seemed to falter a little before growing loud, fazing in and out.
"I can't tell, Moira says she's exhausted, and dehydrated," said the other voice.
"Can read her mind? Tap into her memories?"
"No, the blocks she has surrounding her mind is amazing,"
"Blocks?" the female voice questioned, seemingly confused.
"Yes,"
"So she's telepathic?" the lady voice questioned again, but in Brooklyn's hazed mind, the voice was but a little louder than a whisper.
"It would take a grand amount of telepathy to block me out, and if that's true then.."
"She's a class 5,"
Brooklyn could hear the voices and her head was swimming in them, and more. The voices were barely registering. They weren't making much sense to her. She could tell that a man and a woman were speaking, but the voice of the male echoed in her mind and occasionally she felt the white waves wash up in her mind like the waves she had linked to fatigue and dehydration. She tried to form words with her lips, trying to say something, anything, but only managing a faint, "Mmmmph…"
"She's stirring," said the female voice, and then Brooke felt a soft nick on elbow before she fell back into a deep sleep, losing the disembodied conversation along with her consciousness.
As Storm withdrew the needle from the unconscious girl's arm, Charles Xavier retracted his from her head.
"Nothing?" she asked as she placed down the syringe.
"Nothing," the professor replied.
"Bobby said she.. levitated a ball," she stated.
"Well, multiple abilities are not uncommon, but I can't tell for sure what she can do, the blocks she has set up seem to contain every part of her mind, blocking in her thoughts, her recollections, and her powers,"
"Can you tell where her mutation is rooted? If she really is a class5 mutant and if her powers are located in her subconscious, then she could be unstable," Storm asked, concern in her voice, not an unbiased concern of course, if Brooklyn too was a class 5 mutant, she could be just as unstable as Jean, if not worse. Like with Logan, the professor had shared everything about Jean's condition with Storm, he felt that he owed it to her if he was to trust her and have her succeed him.
"No," he said with a sigh, worried, "The barriers she has are strong that I don't think I can break through them without doing any damage to her mind,"
"Then I guess we'll have to wait and see," Storm said trying to comfort the worried professor.
"We should still get the DNA imagery done,"
"I'll draw a sample then," Storm responded, moving to pick up a sterile syringe from a tray not far away.
A/N Oop, abrupt random ending, I know, sorry bout that, will work on in improving my chapter endings.. Anyway, Review please, thanks you!