It didn't take long to get wherever we were going.
The calm suburban neighbourhoods turned into concrete warehouses and factories and dingy apartment blocks began dotting the roads. I spot the warehouse Deathlight and Flash had their confrontation in. It felt like a forever ago. I wondered how Cara had known about it.
"Well, this is our stop." Dee said, parking and turning off the ignition.
"Welcome to The Warehouse," Jinn smiled at me, unbuckling and slipping out of the truck.
I got out slowly, taking everything in. We were parked beside a huge derelict building. The glass windows were opaque with dust and grime, a few of them were even smashed. There was a scattering of cars, but all in all, the building looked completely abandoned. There were even old closure notices still stuck to the large rolling door that marked the entrance.
"You coming?" Dee asks, hefting the bags of soup cans and tilting her head to indicate the rest of the group, who had already set off towards a side door.
"You need help with those?" I ask, following her.
"Nah," She says with a small smile, "Thanks for the offer though."
"So," I begin uncertainly, glancing at the warehouse and then back at Dee, "Uh, what're we doing here?"
"We're helping some people out." Dee says, not looking at me.
"By giving them soup?"
"Yeah, by givin' 'em soup."
"Okay."
We walk in silence towards the door. The others have already gone in, but Layla stands in the threshold, holding it open for us with an excited smile.
I let Dee go first since she's carrying the heavy load, then follow after as Layla shuts the door.
The place is huge, like, bigger than the pipeline, at least in height and width, if not length. There are enormous concrete pillars holding up the rusty metal bars that support the roof. That is, what's left of the roof. Something obviously happened to it, and though the edges of the floor are dry, the centre is strewn with water and wreckage. Most shocking about the space, however, is the groups of kids and teens who seem to have set up camp here.
"Wait. Is this…?" I trail off, wondering why so many homeless kids would end up staying here. There had to be dryer, safer places to hide out, didn't there?
"They come here because it's hard to find anywhere else that's safe." Layla whispers as Dee marches off to find the others.
"There's got to be safer places than here!" I whisper back, confused and distressed by the amount of people just, well, just living here. It was cold, and damp, and there should be better places. There were better places. "Isn't there a teen shelter on 5th and Mayrose?"
"They don't feel safe there." Layla said simply, and then took off after Dee.
And then I saw it.
A boy strode towards the door, disappeared in a burst of white light, and then reappeared next to the door, opening it and leaving.
I hurried to catch up with Layla, hissing, "Wait, so all of them have powers? They're all metas?"
She smiled at me, like she was glad I'd figured it out so quickly. "Not all, but most." She explained, "Some bring their siblings, others have friends who are also on the streets."
The others have stopped at the first 'camp site', where a few girls have rolled out sleeping bags or blankets on top of strips of cardboard.
Oliver was handing the eldest three cans as Jinn chatted with one of the younger girls.
"Here," Dee said, giving a bag to Layla, "we've got this wall covered."
"Come on!" Layla smiles at me, and her golden eyes catch mine. It's like an adventure, like every day with her is full of bravery, daring and surprises. I love it. A few weeks ago, I was worried about how to be brave, but all I really had to do was follow Layla. She made it easy.
We go around the space, stopping often to chat or to give the soup cans out to those who needed it. Layla is mostly the one who talks, and I just watch and listen, holding the bag of cans.
Apparently, most of them left home because their family was afraid of their powers. Or had experienced bad home lives anyway. Or had been already homeless. Most were too nervous about staying at a shelter just in case there was an accident and their powers were revealed. All were too young or with powers too weak to have supervillain ambitions, obviously, otherwise they'd be out taking a better life and I'm not sure I could blame them.
"How's Tommy doing?" Layla asked an older teen at one of the last groups, "Has he got worse?"
"He's sleepin' right now, but he feels real hot," The dirty and dark haired young man replied worriedly. "I dunno what's wrong with him, but when he wakes up, he says he keeps havin' nightmares."
"And his brother's still in juvie?"
"Yeah, Brynn's still out. At least someone's gettin' free meals, though he'd throw a fit if he knew Tommy was sick. Didn't even get to say g'bye before they took 'im away." The man scowls, "Idiot Feds, if they'd just done their homework, they'd have known they wasn't livin' with their parents."
My blood runs cold and I have to remember to take my next breath. It comes in shaky.
Is this my fault? Should I have just done nothing when Brynn came in with a gun? Or should I not have told the CCPD who he was? I wouldn't have known that without my powers, actually, they couldn't even tell from the camera. He was wearing a mask and – I cut myself off.
No. I wasn't going to think about this now. I couldn't think about this right now.
"-said something about nightmares?" Layla was saying, and I zeroed in on it like I'd practiced so many times since I'd learnt to control my powers.
"Yeah, the kid keeps actin' real scared every time he wakes up. He asks for Brynn, but o'course I can't give him Brynn. All the thrashing around in his sleep ain't helpin' either."
"Just a sec," She tells him, and turns to me, speaking in a hushed voice, "Jules, you think you could help Tommy?"
"Uh," I say, surprised and slightly panicked, "I've not really – I mean, I can't – well maybe I could but…" I trail off awkwardly and I take a deep breath. "I've never done something like that before, well, I mean-" I sigh, frustrated.
It would be kind of similar to taking away the illusions of peoples' worst fears, right? And you did that while they were knocked out. But he's only a kid! What if I make it worse?
"Please Jules, look at him!" Layla begs, golden eyes pleading, and she gestures to a sleeping boy who's tossing and turning in a thin blanket. Little Tommy has a frown on his face and every so often he makes small whimpering sounds. I look back into Layla's eyes and her deep concern hits me.
I can't say no.
"Just," I pause, knowing a frown is creasing my forehead not being able to get rid of it, "Just – I'll do my best, but just know that it might go wrong. I might make it worse."
She smiles and I immediately feel better about giving this a try. "I'll be with you the whole time, and I know you're going to do great."
She turns back to the young man looking after Tommy. "My friend here is a telekinetic and thinks she can help with the nightmares. Would you give your permission for her to try?"
I think she's selling me too high, but I say nothing, and the man looks at me closely before nodding assent. I take a deep breath.
"Now?" I ask quietly.
"Uh-huh," She smiles reassuringly.
I walk over to the little kid and crouch down beside him.
Okay Juliet, you can do this. Just take a brick out of the wall and find him.
I close my eyes, slowly letting in the noise.
There's Tommy's guardian, the young man with the dark hair who gave permission. He's hoping I can help. His trust is humbling.
Then there's another person, possibly the guy's friend who was sitting a few meters away. Physically, I feel Layla's hand slip into mine.
That's right. I can do this.
Everyone's voices try to overwhelm me, but I try not to listen. The thing is, when I'm looking for someone, I can't block them out completely, or else I wouldn't be able to find Tommy. The beginnings of a headache begin to form at the back of my head, but I try to ignore it. I haven't used my powers since Deathlight, and the last time before that was that day when I got shot. Maybe you need to exercise my powers, like a muscle?
I need to find Tommy.
Right.
I find him fairly quickly after that – physical proximity seems to help - but his mind feels hot and confused. Like tea set steeping for too long, or a warm soup with some off ingredients. It stirs and swirls and feels restless and…well, sick.
"Tommy," I try projecting calmly, "Tommy, you need to calm down."
"No!" He yells back, and I wince with the surprise and the volume of his thoughts. He is asleep, isn't he? "I feel yuck! Where's Wynnie? I want Wynnie!"
"Shhhh," I whisper, and I don't realise I've said it out loud until I hear Layla say, "You good?"
"Um, yeah, just give me a sec." I think, before I realise, I'm projecting. I hear the young man utter an expletive and I wince again. I refocus my attention on Tommy. I refuse to let any other thoughts stray.
"Wynnie isn't here right now, you know that." I try, "But you could see him in your dreams instead?"
"No, I can't!" The kid exclaims, "All I can see is them-" I experience a forceful image of a woman holding a broken glass bottle and I freeze, "and I can't stop it! Wynnie says to imagine something better when I have nightmares, but Wynnie isn't here and I can't!"
Breathe Juliet, just breathe. All you have to do is fix it. You can do that. I feel like sobbing and I don't know why. It's not like it was my nightmare. I was definitely in over my head.
"Let me help you." I respond finally, trying to force a calmness I don't feel, "I'm a telepath-" the word still felt dangerous, "I can help." Not 100% sure that was true, but the kid didn't know that, and half the time, the battle was believing it would work. "What does Wynnie look like?"
A memory rose to the surface. The smiling version of a boy I once knew as the one who "made trouble a lot" in my maths class. The boy I knew had a scowl on his face and made his hands into fists. The boy Tommy knew was smiling, and he meant protection and safety.
I clutched the memories. Now, how to do this?
I take the image from earlier – the one of an angry drunk, maybe his mother? – and imagine creating a connection that seemed to transition fear to joy. Now, whenever Tommy's mind went subconsciously to the fear of the first image, he'd immediately replace it with the happy one of Brynn. Hopefully.
I watch him for a second, seeing how his mind goes directly back to the broken bottle woman, then switches to Brynn, his mind filling in the details of my image with a happier memory. His thoughts stay there, feeling slightly less soupy than before. I release a breath and open my eyes.
"I think I helped?" I say, responding to the inquiring looks the other two sent me.
We all look at Tommy, who had stopped tossing and had settled down to a more peaceful sleep.
"Thank you," The dark-haired guy says, and I get up from my crouch to stand again with Layla. A splitting headache forms behind my eyes and I stagger sideways, trying to balance myself after a feeling of dizziness ripples through me.
Caesar's ghost, you overdid it you idiot. I think to myself as someone reaches out to steady me.
"Well, we'd best get her home," I hear Layla say as someone walks me towards the door. I still don't see who it was, because my eyes are focussing on the concrete floor. By that time, I'm feeling a little better, but my headache is not letting up. It reminds me of the headache I got after the mental blasts at school and S.T.A.R. Labs six months ago.
"Just breathe, kid." Dee's reassuring voice cuts through the pain, but the noise stabs into my brain, and as soon as she stops speaking, the throbbing gets worse. I still haven't put my wall back up, and I can't seem to focus.
Juliet. You can't explode here, these are metas, not people who are just going to go around screaming at their worst fears. And their worst fears are probably much worse than everyone elses'. They've already been through enough, just get a grip!
I try breathing deeply, and when we get to the car, I scramble into the back, closing my eyes and putting the seatbelt on quickly. The sound of the truck's motor is like gravel in my brain, like it's making lacerations on the inside of my brain.
I curl up with my hands over my ears, eyes tightly shut.
"Jules… Jules?" Someone asks, "Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home?"
Yes, yes, I need to go home!
Then I remember the bracelet…which is sitting on my bedside table after the party. I so rarely need it that I forgot to put in my pants pocket like I normally do on school days.
"Uh-huh," I mumble, trying to block everything out and ultimately failing.
When the car is parked, I could cry with relief, but I don't.
"Thanks," I say weakly to my friends, and quickly hop out, squinting in the afternoon sunlight, "See you tomorrow."
The twins let me in, thank goodness, and when Cara asks what's wrong, I mumble something about a migraine and head directly up to my bedroom. I snatch up the bracelet and experience the relief when my brain becomes insulated with titanium. It doesn't stop the headache though, so I fall into bed, fully clothed, and drift off to sleep.
Author's Note:
And here's an extra long chapter for you!
*Desperately hopes no one notices the two week absence*
*You notice*
Ah, well, yes. Like I said two weeks ago, I ran out of buffer and I thought I'd have time to write some more but, well, you can probably guess how that plan went.
As a student, this time of year has been particularly busy, and I don't anticipate it letting up for another couple of months. I'll do my best, but you probably shouldn't expect my usual fairly consistent update schedule for another few months. I'll update when I can for now (i.e. as soon as I've written another chapter), but we should be back to normal in a few months.
Review if you missed me!
Trix