FicWad

There was just one problem with apprenticing myself to Joe: he had no fixed address and I didn't speak cactus. Charles and his mom offered to ping him for me since all my concentration was being used towards other things. They finally got a hold of him a few weeks later. He had good news and bad news. The good news was that he was more than willing to take me on as an apprentice, the bad news was that he was all the way out on the other side of 'effing Flagstaff dealing with something that couldn't wait. The natives were restless and when Joe said "natives" he meant spirits, not his own people. Anyhow, due to the metaphysical weirdness he wouldn't be able to start back right away and on horseback it's almost a week long trip back to Fenix. The guys offered to drive up and meet him but he flatly refused, insisting we stay where we were till it was over. It was safer, he said. I wondered what it was he was dealing with that was so dangerous?

We were all a little nervous while we waited for Joe to contact us. It seemed Flagstaff wasn't the only area experiencing unseen angst. The bad guys were giving Fenix a hard time and it seemed like as soon as we beat down one, three more popped up. It was a rough week as far as mask-wearing was concerned and we'd been run ragged indeed by the time Saturday rolled around. However, we had one more Boss battle left to fight.

All three of us were hanging out in Charles and Alex's room again, just sitting around and enjoying the fact that we were NOT out saving the day at the moment. We were all bone tired but more or less unhurt though Charles and I were battling migraines. The last baddie we'd taken on hadn't gone down easily and we were all suffering our own varieties of mental and physical strain. It was only 8PM and so I was surprised when my headache suddenly and viciously got worse. I could already feel myself shaking and I hurried to empty my pockets and hand my glasses to Alex before I lost it.

"Ray?" he asked, accepting them from me.

"You better catch him," Charles warned as I began to tremble and then to list. Alex lunged and grabbed me before I could hit the floor.

"He's early tonight," he remarked as he held me still.

"You know Ray-man, always the over-achiever." Charles' method of dealing with adversity was humor. "...how is he?"

"/Petit mal/, nothing too bad so far. He's just kinda shivering right now. Stand by just in case."

"Gotcha. His nose go yet?"

"Not-never mind. We have gusher." Alex didn't try to save his jersey, only carefully shifted me so I wouldn't choke on my own blood. Trembling in his arms I leaned and retched, ruining yet another undeserving throw rug.

"We're making you clean that up when you wake up, Ray," Charles told me even though he knew I couldn't hear him. I was a thousand, million miles away in another time and place watching one of the strangest scenes I'd seen yet.


A girl with curling, strawberry-red hair lay strapped to a hospital bed by her ankles and wrists. She was clearly under heavy sedation for her crystal blue eyes stared blank and unseeing at the plain white tile ceiling. I shivered unpleasantly as memories of my Grandma floated to the surface. Strangely, I noticed as I crossed the floor toward her that I wasn't just watching this vision, I was IN it.

"Please," she begged upon seeing me, "no more drugs..."

I swallowed hard on the sudden lump that had risen in my throat.

"No, no more drugs," I told her, reaching and taking her hand. She flinched and resisted, trying to pull away but I held her fast.

"Shh... It's okay," I reassured her, giving her hand a light squeeze. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She whined and began to cry, still trying to pull free. I reached and brushed tangerine curls from her face but she whimpered and turned away. I felt so bad for her. She was a pretty little thing, barely as old as I was. As she cried, my heart bled. Poor thing. She was Super too, I realized as I searched her sluggish brain for a coherent thought. Again the image of my Grandma, drugged and abandoned, rose before me. This would not happen again. Not if I could help it.

"It'll be okay," I told her, laying a hand on her head. "I'll help you."

She said nothing, only scrunched her face against my touch. Carefully, gently, I reached and tried to clear the drug stupor from her mind.

"Kalahearn, what the hell are you /doing/?" A man a little older than myself with dark hair and large hands had entered the room. He wore a long white coat. Belatedly, I noticed I was wearing one too.

"She's drugged," I told him.

"Yeah, no kidding. She only murdered three people. Do you know a better way to restrain a telepath?"

"Three people?" I asked blankly.

"Robert and Helen Parr and their youngest Jack-Jack?" he stated as if this ought to have been perfectly obvious to me. "Violet and Dash are orphans now thanks to her."

I could only gawk stupidly as he gently elbowed me aside and placed his own hands on her breast.

"NO!" she screamed, struggling vainly against her restraints. "NO MORE DRUGS!!"

Three people? Helen and Robert Parr? Telepath? What the hell? What was going on here? I stood back and watched as the girl thrashed and screamed. Information began filtering into my head: this was a psych ward for Supers, the man medicating the girl was a doctor here, his name was Eddy and I worked here with him. At last the girl grew quiet and Eddy stepped back. The door opened and a tiny little woman stepped inside. With a distant shock I recognized her as Charles' mom. What was she doing here? Her face was silently grim as she crossed the floor and climbed up onto the bed. As soon as the girl saw her she began to shriek again. Ms. Mode grabbed her hand and immediately she fell silent. A heavy and awful weight settled over the room and I felt myself struggling slightly for breath.

"Charlotte Pine," Ms. Mode began, her quiet words slicing the silence like a hot blade, "by the decision of the United Council of Supers and the authorization of the National Super Association I have been appointed to deliver the decision of your fate to you. You have been found guilty of the murder of Robert Parr, Helen Parr, Jack Parr, and fifteen other Supers as well as the associated deaths of 1,200 civilians. For your actions..." here she paused and took a breath, seeming to brace herself for what she was about to say.

"For your actions," she swallowed, "your powers will be revoked. You will no longer live as a Super, but you will live."

Charlotte Pine? Powers revoked? WTF? Then it hit me. The wavy red hair, the blue eyes and freckles, the telepathic powers... That girl was Charles done over female. I stood rooted to the spot, too stunned to move or even speak. I watched dumbly as Eddy undid Charlotte's wrist straps. She struggled drunkenly but Eddy held her still as Ms. Mode reached and gathered her close. Charlotte cried and screamed but in the end tired and laid her red-gold head on Ms. Mode's tiny shoulder. She sobbed softly, seeming to sense what was coming while Ms. Mode stroked her amber curls. Carefully, she drew her hand across the nape of Charlotte's neck and then, pinching her fingers closed, pulled sharply as if snapping a thread. I realized that was exactly what she had just done. Charlotte arched her back and howled and I jerked myself as her astral line was severed. Dear God... So that was the punishment reserved for corrupted Supers, so secret and so terrible that it was never spoken of. I shuddered and fought the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake me as Eddy wrestled Charlotte onto her back once more. He didn't fight with her long. Soon her strength was spent and she lay exhausted on the bed.

"You know what happens to those with a full set, don't you Edward?" Ms. Mode asked, not taking her eyes off Charlotte. Full set? She had to mean the possible four out of four set of genes that made one Super. Most Supers only had half a set but a handful possessed all four. Those were always the most powerful and because of that, also the most dangerous. With a vague shock I noticed she was crying. Eddy nodded grimly.

"They die."

It occurred to me that this was not a simple dream, no mere warning or cautionary tale. Somewhere, some time, this was happening. My best friend was a murderer and had been executed for it.

Charles...

I broke down and cried.


"Holy shit..."

Back in the waking world my friends were busy with their own angst. My tremors had gotten worse and the vessel in my nose had not just broken but burst, sending a crimson flood cascading down my face. Alex's jersey was already soaked and his hands and arms were slick and sticky from the flow. Again he turned me in his arms so I wouldn't choke and I heaved more blood onto the already saturated throw rug.

"Jesus..." Alex muttered, gently patting my back while I continued to gag.

"C'mon Ray-Ray," Charles sing-songed. He knew I hated that nick-name but good-natured teasing wasn't going to be enough to bring me out of this one. Once done vomiting blood I began to jerk wildly. Alex hurried to secure me once again, immobilizing me in a careful headlock. Charles leaned over the edge of the bed to examine the spreading puddle I'd left on the floor. He grimaced and turned away almost at once. Unhealthy amounts of blood continued to pour from my face as I bucked violently in Alex's arms.

"Alex?"

"He's having a /grand mal/," Alex reported, no small amount of concern in his voice. My tremors hadn't stopped but my strength was fading. My overworked gag reflex decided the hell with it and I began to drown in my own blood. It pooled in my open mouth and began running down my chin.

"I hope he wasn't attached to that shirt..." Charles gagged.

"He's not breathing, Charles."

"Right." Charles shook himself and reached for my tangled thoughts. "Shutting down in one, two, three..." He snapped his fingers and I abruptly fell limp. Blood trickled from my nose and mouth as I hung lifeless in Alex's arms.

"Still nothing," Alex warned.

"Rebooting in one, two, three..." His fingers snapped and I felt myself yanked back into the waking world. I tried to pull in breath but my lungs were too full of fluid. Breaking free of Alex I lay on my stomach and heaved, choking and gagging until at last I drew in air. Breathing again, if raggedly, I gladly submitted as Alex gathered me up and cradled me close, petting my hair.

"You okay, Ray?" he asked. My mind still filled with images of Charlotte's last moments, I dissolved into tears.

"Ray?" Charles asked, his own voice grown soft and sad.

"She's gone," I bawled, not yet fully aware of my surroundings.

"Who's gone? What happened?"

"What did you see?"

"She's dead," I sobbed, "they killed her..." I huddled into Alex's chest and cried while he and Charles exchanged confused glances. Alex stroked my hair and held me close, doing his best to soothe me. We didn't notice right away that Charles had fainted. When he lifted his head again I could tell that something wasn't right. A plane had shifted somewhere and I knew before he even spoke that this wasn't Charles. His eyes, while always sharp and observant, had become cruel and cold; Charles' likeable, lopsided grin replaced by a leering smirk.

"What the hell?" I rasped around the blood still caught in my throat. He smiled and I felt my insides grow cold.

"Ray," his tone was condescending, mocking. "You're the one they called 'Ruby', aren't you? You're still just as cute, just as short. I had to kill her though. We ripped her in two." He smiled and I shuddered as images from another time and place rose in my mind's eye. I shivered and pinched my own knees together at the memory. He was a bully and he'd beat her where it hurt worst before tearing her in half up the middle.

"That wasn't the worst part," I whispered, swallowing hard on the sudden urge to be sick. Alex's arms tightened protectively around me, weak and defenseless as I was. The cold blue eyes turned to him.

"Sapphire," he sneered, "they called her 'Phire' for short, almost invulnerable. We had to crush her."

I felt Alex swallow hard.

"Took almost fourteen tons of pressure to do it, the hazards of being virtually indestructible."

"Good to know my limits," Alex wise-cracked.

"Wanna know what I did to Jade?" He had to mean Charles' female alter-ego.

"Is there any way we can avoid it?" Alex asked, his annoyance clearly evident. The imposter went on as if he hadn't heard.

"I picked her apart piece by piece, bit by bit, till I'd broken her, till she submitted, till she begged for mercy."

His smile was icily satisfied and my heart chilled within me as some distant part of me recognized it and shuddered.

"Holy shit," I whispered, choking slightly on my still dripping blood as I put two and two together. This was Charlotte, or rather, a version of her.

"Yeah, you saw her die but they couldn't kill me," he went on. "Charlotte was only one version in a thousand, in a million. You won't ever beat me, but I've beaten you. I killed the girls there and I'll kill you here."

"Yippee-skippy," Alex remarked dryly and I couldn't help snerking a little. The pretender seemed surprised.

"Yeah sure, go ahead and laugh. I'll crush you just like I did the girl."

"Whatever, man," Alex rolled his eyes. "Do it and get it over with so we don't have to listen to your lame speeches."

He scowled and retorted but I wasn't listening. Alex was right. If he had wanted us dead he would have done so already. So what hadn't he zapped us both to kingdom come? I could only think of two reasons: either Charles body lacked the power and energy necessary for such a feat, or...he didn't want to. And just that easily I could see that he didn't. Oh sure he thought he wanted to. He had himself convinced he wanted to do this the way I'd once convinced myself I wasn't Super. He was lying to himself now just as much as had been then. I might remember dying at his hands but apparently some part of him remembered video game parties, 2AM Denny's runs, do gooding, karaoke night, and a zillion other stupid, wonderful experiences we'd all shared together. He wasn't just monologging, he was /stalling/. The more he talked, the more he revealed, the less time he had to spend actually fighting with us. He was still laying on his stomach diagonally across the bed, propped up on his elbows, matching Alex's glare with a mocking smirk.

"So what are you waiting for?" I rasped. He turned and looked down at me as if noticing me for the first time. Evidently he'd forgotten I was there while arguing with Alex. He smiled again, a snake's smile, but now I saw the fear behind it. And because he was afraid, I suddenly found that I wasn't.

"Oh I'm not looking for a fight, Ray," he smirked.

"Oh really? Then why did you come here? You really that desperate for an audience?" I struggled for balance, determined to face him on even ground. He wasn't going to take me at a disadvantage and so I tried to stand. I managed to make it to my hands and knees but had to stop and choke more blood.

"Yeah," Alex chimed in as he leaned to help me. "What are you gonna do? Bore us to death?"

The imposter scowled as I struggled to my feet. Alex put an arm around me and took my weight, allowing me to stand. My knees shook dangerously and my entire body trembled with the effort. Alex held tight to keep me from falling. Wiping my face with one hand before replying I noticed that while the bleeding had slowed, it hadn't stopped.

"I told you, I'm not looking for a fight today."

"No better time," I choked while Alex held me up. "We're one man down and I'm hardly fit to stand up let alone throw a punch. Why not kick us while we're down?"

He was eyeing me now and as pathetic a figure as I must have made, a breath away from falling over and soaked in my own blood, I could see the worry multiplying in those cold eyes. As weak as I was, I knew I could take him, and he knew it too.

"You really so eager to throw your life away? Have a little patience. Don't worry, I'll kill you just like I killed them. You can't beat me."

"And yet there you lay, bitching about Supers and how they all need to die." Alex replied with snark of his own. I couldn't help chuckling at that but ended up snorting blood. Wiping my face with one hand I shakily pushed away from Alex and struggled to find my balance in order to stand on my own.

"Ray, don't..." Alex whispered, reaching for me, but I waved him off.

It wasn't much but I had the vague yet certain feeling that if only I could latch my arms around him I might be able to drive him away and bring Charles back. Some distant part of my mind politely pointed out that that would most likely be suicide. I didn't care. Getting rid of this character was more important.

"You know something Alex," I rasped, "clearly this guy didn't get enough love as a kid...I think he needs a hug."

The only problem with fighting a telepath is that they can anticipate your movements. Granted my statement had pretty well given away my strategy but I think he'd guessed before I even opened my mouth. I'd never seen anyone move so fast. I barely had time to let gravity take hold, pulling me down toward him before he was up and out of the way, his back pressed against the far wall. I hit the mattress and bounced, falling to my knees on the floor. Alex hurried to retrieve me. Unable to muster the energy to get up again, I remained sitting on the floor.

"Oh very clever. Cute, real cute, but let me tell you something; you kill me, you kill your friend."

"So would you," I gasped, the light-headed feeling triggered by excessive blood loss finally kicking in. Alex knelt behind me offering back support, his huge hands resting on my bony shoulders.

"I'm not your friend," he scoffed. "I work alone."

"I'd be dead if I tried to do that," I wheezed, ducking my head between my knees in order to keep from passing out. "Without Charles and Alex I'd be toast."

He laughed but the sound was forced.

"You're toast anyway."

"I go down, you're going down with me." It wasn't a warning, it was a promise. There was no way in hell I was going to let this jerk screw with my friends.

"We'll see about that. For now, think about your friend."

That quickly, he was gone, the cold light in Charles' eyes vanishing as he collapsed.

"Catch him!" I shouted. Alex immediately leaped and caught him before he could hit the floor, carefully laying him back down on their bed. Almost at once I began to shiver again. Poor Alex looked at Charles, at me, and back again, torn.

"Guys, only one pair of arms," he pleaded.

"See to him," I stuttered, forcing myself to speak. Alex looked doubtful but turned his attention back to Charles. It didn't take Alex long to restart him and get him breathing again. Charles let out a weary groan and put a hand to his head. I imagine having someone elbow their way into your brain space like that has got to hurt. Charles might have been in pain, but Alex and I smiled. He'd be all right. The same could not be said for me, however. While Alex took a well-deserved moment to fuss over Charles, I felt myself beginning to slip. I was exhausted and my head hurt. My nose had finally dried but the tremors were starting again. Charles actually noticed first, looking over Alex's shoulder in a weary embrace.

"Ray...?" he asked, his voice hollow and shaky as my body.

"Aw shit..." Alex muttered, releasing Charles and attempting to scrape me off the floor.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, feeling myself fade. There was no way I would survive this.

"I'm sorry..."

"Charles?" Alex asked, his voice tinged in fear. Charles stared blankly and shook his head.

"I...I can't... I don't have enough left!"

"Ray don't fight it, just pass out!" Alex begged, brushing my bangs out of my face. Charles just stared, for once silenced by the seriousness of the situation.

"RAY!"

The door banged open and Charles' mom burst into the room followed closely by Mr. Dicker, our NSA rep.

"Ray!" she shouted again, striking her hands together once. Abruptly I fell limp in Alex's arms. She'd flipped my "off" switch the same way Charles usually did. Charles breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Mom..." He looked as if he could melt on the spot.

"Just a minute, Dear," she told him, crouching over me. She clapped her hands twice to reboot me and I drew a weak and ragged breath.

Ms. Mode gave a sigh of relief and sank to her knees.

"Karl?"

Dr. Straussen had entered with a small medical team in tow. They set to work cleaning me up and transferring me onto a stretcher.

"Will he be okay?" Alex asked. Dr. Straussen was still going over me and did not look up.

"He's lost a great deal of blood..." was his vague and uncomforting response.

"It certainly looks like it," Ms. Mode commented, eyeing the floor. The throw rug had been reduced to a saturated mass of reddened fabric, the unfortunate carpet around it so soaked in fluid that it was pooling between the fibers and squished if trod upon. It did look as if someone had been done to death.

"I want you boys to come along," Ms. Mode instructed to Charles and Alex as Dr. Straussen and his guys got me packed up and into a waiting ambulance. "I think we could all use the nap."

No one bothered to argue.

I'm told I was out for the better part of two weeks, hovering in and out of tremors and finally stabilizing on the eleventh day. I just flat out slept the next two and finally woke up around 10AM on day fourteen. Charles and Alex were both there waiting to greet me and I was glad to see them. They weren't the only ones there to see me. Joe had arrived and was waiting to take me out to the desert to begin my training. I'd put it off long enough.