Aiden walks briskly down across the bridge toward the bunker. He still has not rid himself of the painful stab of guilt. He never thought some stranger would make him regret leaving him so quickly. He promised him he would be back, that was all he could do. However, the memory of seeing his wide, crystal blue eyes with so much anger and confusion and fear…
The Fox shakes his head, pushing the pesky emotions from his mind. He needs to explain things to Clara, and find a way to help that kid, Jay.
He stops at a boxcar, swiping it open and stepping into darkness. A limp mattress lay in the corner with a couple boxes and a broken radio. He walks to the other end, sending a pulse through the ground. There was no other way to signal the movement of the car. You have to be gifted, and although some psychics were enemies, most tend to stick together. There are bigger battles to fight than with one another, but Aiden is sure there are more of them hidden in the highest ranks of city. It is rather obvious to him, actually.
When the man enters the bunker, a sudden and shrill alarm shatters through his thoughts. He claps his hands over his ears, stumbling to lean against the doorframe. The frequency slices pain through every fiber of him. Psychics couldn't stand high frequencies, their acute sense of hearing and concentration made the screaming noise agonizing, like a dog with a dog whistle.
Right as he collapses to his knees, the sound vanishes abruptly. Aiden slowly lets go of his ears, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Wow, you dropped down quick, didn't you?" The voice is muffled and distant, along with another speaking fluent, angry French.
"You have a death wish don't you?" It is Clara, there is a collection of shuffling and curses reverberate that all sound like Aiden's ears are stuffed with cloth.
He feels hands on him, shaking his shoulder gentle as he begins to regain his senses. He finally hears his name being called clearly, looking up at Clara's concerned look, and she sighs, "Aiden…thank God."
"What the fuck was that?" Aiden stutters to his own irritation, grabbing the railing of the balcony and lifting himself up.
"Well…" Clara gives a sheepish look, gesturing to the figure appears beside her.
Damian Brenks stares back at him with a smug grin, hands pulled into his pockets. He was dressed unnaturally nice in chestnut brown vest coat and matching pants. There is what looked like oil splattered on one of the white sleeves.
"Pearce! It's been awhile—"
"What are you doing here?" Aiden demands, looking at Clara, "What is he doing here?"
Damian laughs shortly, "Glad you missed me too, friend."
Clara sighs, "He let himself in."
"And you didn't stop him?"
"Well if he took the time to dress like such a gentleman I thought he could be trusted," Clara mutters sarcastically before crossing her arms, "Do you think I didn't try?"
"You should have tried a bit harder," Aiden hisses dismissively, heading down the stairs. He hears his old friend laugh from the top.
"I see he hasn't changed at all, I bet he still uses the swords I made him too."
"He does, and now he's in a bad mood, again," Clara sighs, hurrying over to Aiden but Damian is faster, stepping in front of him.
"Listen, I know I'm not someone you enjoy seeing—"
"So observant of you," He tries shoving past him but Damian catches his arm.
"But, I feel like that if you look deep in your heart, you can forgive me," He says, patting his own heart with a smirk.
Aiden stares, barely suppressing his bitter laughter, pulling away from him, "The last time we talked, you held up a bank—"
"Now you make it—"
"Stole thousands of dollars along with injuring civilian hostages—"
"—Sound like—"
"And shattered the bones of twenty cops leaving them completely and utterly incapacitated and in pain after you promised you would never use your powers for that—"
"—Like I'm a terrible person."
Aiden stares, growling, "You are a terrible person!"
Damian's smirk twitches a bit, "Oh, like you are much better, Pearce. So I shatter a few bones. At least I down skewer people on the end of swords."
"The swords you made me, right," Aiden smiles coldly, "How's that leg doing by the way?"
The fellow psychic pulls up his pant leg in response, brazen metal crafted expertly into a cybernetic limb, "It's doing great, thanks for asking. I tried not to curse your name to oblivion while I was making it. It took a lot of will power and inner strength, but I made the best of it."
"I didn't have to do that to you if you would have listened to me," Aiden says quietly, pushing the memory of the night from his thoughts as he spoke with strength, "You did that to yourself. You are one of the reasons why the humans fear us."
"Is that such a bad thing? We've already been through this song and dance, Pearce. If we didn't fight back they would have just kept up their prejudice."
"You're right, they still have prejudice, but now it's justified!"
"SHUT UP!" Clara shouts, both men are suddenly flung to either side of the room. Aiden slams into a wardrobe while Damian almost collapses on a table of metals. Clara stands where they were, a vivid frustration in her bright eyes, "You two are going to drive me crazy. Damian, what you did was wrong, but Aiden, you can't change it! Now stop fighting like a couple of toddlers and make up before I kill both of you slowly and painfully."
Both men pull themselves up, Damian dusts himself off, his hands already slipping back in his pockets, "Mom's right, we need to kiss and make up."
Aiden walks back, rolling his shoulders, forcing his rage back into himself, "Just tell me what that noise was, and why you're here."
"Well, the noise was that pile of parts over there," Damian says, pointing over to a small clump of shattered metal, "Clara didn't like me testing it out on you."
"How did you two not hear it?"
Clara looks at him, "Ah…ear plugs—I had to put them on! I wasn't going to hear that shit. I broke it though, if it makes you feel better."
Aiden sighs very slowly, looking back at Damien, "Why do you have that?"
"I created it. And, instead of selling it to one of your many, many enemies, I decided to stop by here. That's how nice I am, I'm a changed man!"
"The transformation is astounding, really," Aiden says with sarcasm dripping from every pore, "What's the catch?"
"Catch?"
"I'm not stupid. You want something."
"Well you know me way too well," Damien smiles, "I just need a place for my workshop, alright? No tricks, no set up. I just don't exactly trust the city. Took me forever to even find this place in the first place."
"That's it? You want to stay here?" Clara repeats slowly.
"Yep, that's it."
"That's not going to happen." Aiden speaks bluntly, "There is no way I can trust you."
"Well, if I'm not staying here I could always go find work with the Club. I'm sure they would appreciate a way to bring you to your knees," Damien shines a particularly familiar evil smile.
Aiden narrows his eyes, two swords fly from his coat, retracting and honing in on the psychic, "It doesn't work like that, Damien."
Surprisingly, Damien keeps his smile, touching one of the blades, "You've been keeping these pristine, I'm impressed. But listen, I know you won't kill me. I can help you too much. And I'm willing to cooperate, even with this rich-kid problem you've been having."
Aiden scowls, the swords inching closer to his former friend, "How do you know about that?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Not good enough."
"Ok, so I heard it around that some kid was creating a big fuss with his shiny aura. It's everywhere."
Aiden thinks about this, how could everyone know? Jay seems a bit new to be known across Chicago. He puts the thought aside, looking back at Damien, "How am I supposed to trust you?"
"We've been through this. I can help you," Damien reasons, "And I know you, Aiden. You know it's true."
Aiden looks away, his eyes landing on Clara, who looks back with an unsure look. Aiden slowly turns back, his swords vanishing and returning to him. He musters all of his will power, "Fine. You can stay here."
"Wonderful!" Damien claps his hands together, grinning.
"But if you so much as think of turning on us I will slice off your head and throw it in the river," Aiden threatens with deadly calm.
"I get it, really."
"Now," Aiden says, stepping closer, "Where did you hear about J—the kid?"
Damien puts his arms behind his head, "Some Australian bastard. Sly kid, saw him walking out of a jewelry store with a bunch of sleeping customers. I think we had a lot in common."
This sets Aiden off, "Did you get a name?"
"Nope, But his hair was purple. He said he met the kid in Dot ConneXion. And I know you aren't very social so—"
"I know it's a club, Damien." Aiden sighs, moves away from them. He hears both Damian and Clara speaking as he enters his bedroom, shutting the door.
I've got to get that kid tonight he thinks I don't have much time till others want to meet him.
~WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW~
Jay opens his eyes, yawning. He has little to do in his prison cell of a room, so in his boredom he had decided to take a nap. He uncurls from the cramped ball he usually sleeps in, sitting up. His parents only showed their face to him twice after what happened, both times it was his mother giving him his things to put away. The boxes lay currently unopened at the corner of his room, victims of his rebellion.
However, his mother had attempted to comfort him, saying that she'll try and speak to his father about his imprisonment. The more she spoke, the more sympathy had laid blatant in her eyes. Jay had actually smiled at her, even if it was small. After so many years, he was beginning to feel his mother finally trying to understand him.
The clock above him read 3:32pm. The young man groans, getting up, beginning to pace. He couldn't stand being in a still room for so long, he is becoming restless, "Please…there has to be a way out of here."
He thought of the Fox. I know what you are, Jay. I'll be back.
He couldn't stop reveling in every bit of speech, every scent and feeling. The soft, gruff voice and fresh outside smell, the warm breath against his ear.
Jay whines, kicking a box down, some of his clothes spilling out. He wants it back, all of it, and soon.
He looks back toward the door then at his hands, mumbling, "Maybe…" He steps toward the door, trying to think of the lock. Beyond it he hears his parents arguing with someone. Jay knew his parents always had people over, and arguing about business was common for him to hear. They were in the living room…he could possibly sneak through the kitchen and get out. If he could just unlock the door…
"It can't be that hard…" Jay mutters, closing eyes as he did at the club, trying to imagine the unlocked knob.
He hears a scream, snapping from his concentration with a gasp, the knob suddenly cracking and breaking right off the door. He hears a couple of bumps, a sudden concern washing over him. He pushes open the broken door, moving swift and quiet across the hall.
He inches toward the living room, the screams have silenced. He still hears footsteps, his heart beating faster as he pushes himself against the wall, peeking into the room.
A figure stands just above the bodies of his parents. He sucks in a breath unintentionally, "Aiden…?
The figure turns, pulling his hood down, Jay saw the bright, purple hair before anything else.
"Aiden?" Wick says curiously, "Who is that?"
Jay moves out of the corner, staring at the scene in front of him, almost forgetting to lie, "Ah, Aiden he's…my cousin. He's supposed to come for a visit—what did you do to them exactly?"
Wick smirks, "They're just sleeping, although they were a bit harder than the DJ."
The younger psychic pokes at his father's sleeping body, then up at Wick, "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
Are you working for the Fox? Is what he wanted to ask, but he couldn't get himself too. There is always the chance he wasn't, and that would probably not be good. He doesn't want to reveal the man if he wasn't completely sure.
"I came to rescue the banished prince," Wick jokes, "I saw you run off randomly at ConneXion, I was trying to get to you but, well I'm not good with the police."
Jay frowns, "You're not?"
"This hair isn't exactly the most inconspicuous, and they don't like psychics," Wick moves back toward door, "you coming?"
"Um…where are we going?"
Wick smiles, "It's a surprise."
Whatever the surprise was, it had to be better than the state he is in now. Wick had saved him, but he couldn't help but think of Aiden. He looks at Wick sheepishly, "Maybe I should stay here…they can't be asleep for that long."
"Seriously? After I put that DJ to sleep for hours and you don't trust my skills?" Wick chuckles, "Listen, I'm just going to bring you around town, just for a couple hours, we'll be back here before your parents wake up."
Jay looks at her parents, then at Wick. There cannot be that much harm in a couple hours, and he trusted Wick, despite not knowing if he worked for Aiden. He is a psychic like him, and introduced him to the ConneXion.
The young man smiles, nodding, "Alright. Let's get out of here."
~WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW~
Aiden enters the Greenhill apartments at 3:42pm, moving with purpose up the stairs. His ultimate wish is the parents will not be present, but he had to be realistic. He had decided earlier to knock them out but he has the nagging desire to stab them both through their chests.
He had listened to their argument with Jay, he wanted to barge in and knock them down, to tell the kid he'd keep him safe, that what he did he had to do. But he couldn't get himself to do it, not now.
He goes to the door, touching to wood. There is an odd silence. It isn't late enough for them to be sleeping. He could only sense one life source, at this point he wondered if what he wished actually happened. Quietly, he opens the door, stepping inside.
"Oh shit," Aiden speaks under his breath, striding over to the two bodies of Jay's parents. He crouches down, checking the father's pulse. He is alive.
What happened here? Aiden mumbles as he moves over to check the mother's pulse, just to be sure. He could only guess that Jay did this himself, however, Jay clearly had no control over his powers, especially not enough to put two people to sleep…
Aiden freezes, looking down at the mother. She was pale, her skin cold. Her pulse is nonexistent.
The Fox stands, striding down the hall, seeing a knob broken to a bedroom, a box of clothes kicked over.
"Dammit!" Aiden curses, backing away with fuels concentration, sensing two auras still fresh in the area, "I'm not to late…I'll find you."
His adrenaline sparking, the Fox bolts out of the room.