Synesthesia - Chapter Five
Feb. 2nd, 2011 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: New chapter up guys! Go here to start at the beginning. Here we have answers. Wahoo!
Title: Synesthesia
Rating: T (for mild violence and language)
Description: Ethan has lived with his gift -- hearing emotions as music -- his entire life. And he's learned to cope with it. But when a serial killer makes a home in his town, and he's contacted by different groups all wanting to make use of his ability, he finds himself dragged into the thick of things. And all he wants to do is be left alone.
Ethan's mother and stepfather lived on the outskirts of town, the boundaries of civilization right before it became 'country' and saved him an extra twenty minutes on the school bus in the mornings. The neighborhood was filled with old people and families, and as he drove down the darkened street, he felt a curdling of disquiet in his belly. He couldn't even call it a street, as there wasn't one side or the other, but an unmarked stretch of pavement with homes lined in a perfect row on either side. Each decorated in its own fashion, even if they were cut from the same cookie-cutter shape.
It wasn't that Ethan didn't like the house. But this wasn't his childhood house. No, this was Daryl's house, and they'd had to move in with the man when his mother remarried a few years ago. It wasn't that he didn't like Daryl either. Or his mother. Or even his new sister. He just didn't like coming home.
“So... why am I going to regret this?” Jaiden asked, filling the silence of the car. The atmosphere was overly warm, and as a consequence, overly humid. Ethan could feel himself sweating very unattractively, which went perfect with the gnawing clench of his stomach.
His fingers curled around the steering wheel with a creak of leather. “You'll see when you meet my mother.”
Jaiden tipped his head to the side, gaze locked out the window as the scenery passed by at a crawling pace, Ethan preparing to pull into the driveway just behind Jeanine's Jeep Cherokee.
“Is she difficult?”
Ethan scoffed. “No, she's one of the friendliest people I know.”
“Ah, I see why that would be hard on you.”
Ethan blinked, turning his head to glare at his grudgingly accepted guest. “Was that sarcasm? Because if I remember correctly, you're not sleeping on the ground tonight because of my graciousness.”
He thought he might have heard a small harrumph of amusement. “I deeply appreciate it, Ethan. Why do you dislike your mother?”
He growled. “I never said that I dislike her,” Ethan retorted, throwing his Honda into park and switching off the headlights. “You'll see.”
Ethan jerked open his door and stepped out of the car, briefly opening the back door to pull out his two bags. He sighed as he looked at his house, the front door opening in curiosity as his mother stepped onto the porch.
Two stories of Colonial wood greeted his eyes, the wraparound porch on the front decorated by a mildly safe swinging seat and countless hanging baskets of flowers. The house itself was a tasteful white, with painted shutters and a rooster weathervane jutting right next to the brick-laid chimney top. A stone walk led from the driveway to the few steps up to the porch and Ethan wisely stuck to it, stepping from rock to rock as Jaiden trailed along behind him.
“Ethan?” His mother greeted, sounding surprised. “It's late. What are you doing here?”
“Why are you still up?” Ethan questioned, shifting the weight of his bag. Sometimes, his mom was attacked by stretches of insomnia, so this wasn't as unusual as he'd like to believe.
“Re-runs,” Jeanine answered briefly before Ethan was enveloped in a warm, mushy hug, his mom pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. It didn't matter how old he was, she still greeted him like that every time. He'd long learned it was pointless to try and deny her.
He endured the affection, and pulled away, deftly avoiding the second grab for a hug. “MST3K, I assume.”
“Of course.” She grinned, and noticed Jaiden, her eyes flicking past him. “And who's this? Wow, aren't you handsome?”
Ethan felt a headache coming on, and it had nothing to do with the blurred noises of his mother's emotions. She was drunk again, or her version of it anyway. The only good thing that came out of her tipsiness was that it hid her Techno-Dance emotions from his senses. Cascada came to mind, and DHT, on a daily basis.
Jaiden didn't blink at her forwardness, holding out a hand. Little did he know that silly, polite things like handshakes weren't Jeanine's style. In a few seconds, she had enveloped the aerokinetic in a hug just as tight as the one she had given her son.
Well, Ethan had warned him.
“This is a friend of mine, Jaiden,” Ethan explained, knowing far, far better than to tell the complete truth. “And like me, he needs a place to crash tonight.”
Releasing Jaiden from her suffocating embrace, a whiff of wine coolers in her wake, Jeanine breezed back towards Ethan, shooing him into the house. “Why? What's wrong with your apartment?”
“It's behind yellow tape.”
His mother blinked, blue eyes confused. “I... what?”
“Fire,” Jaiden answered succinctly, looking a little perturbed by Jeanine's unwanted affection. “A little smoke damage. Nothing serious.”
“Ethan!” Jeanine practically squealed, her voice loud enough to rattle in the still and silence of the hallway as he obediently shucked his shoes and motioned for Jaiden to do the same. “What happened?”
He shrugged, tugging off his wet jacket and hanging it on the coatrack where it proceeded to drip on the floor. Oh, well. It was close to a vent. It would dry soon enough.
“Nothing serious, mom. The sprinklers put it out before anything got dangerous. But now everything's soaked so I can't stay there.”
Jeanine frowned deeply, looking him over. “You're soaked,” she exclaimed, and dragged his arm, pushing him towards the kitchen. “And dripping everywhere. Go where I can actually use a mop!”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“And don't smartass me child. I birthed you,” she retorted, shooting him a stern look as he stepped into the kitchen with a messy squelch of soaked socks on tile. “You too, Jaiden. Check the fridge while I get some towels.”
“Thank you, Mrs. McCormick.”
She paused in the midst of turning towards the hall, Ethan halting as well as he dropped his bags on the table. A sad smile flittered onto his mother's cheek and she turned back, lifting a hand to gently pat Jaiden's cheek.
“That's sweet, but just call me Jeanine, okay?” she asked with another dazzling smile, breath smelling of green apples.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jeanine rolled her eyes, and then she was gone, off in search of towels and probably dry clothes for the both of them. Ethan still had some of his least-liked clothes up in his untouched room. He doubted his mother would ever do anything with it until she was absolutely certain he wasn't coming back.
In her absence, Jaiden looked at Ethan questioningly. “Jeanine?”
“She's not a McCormick anymore,” Ethan answered quietly, figuring it was better to answer the aerokinetic rather than let him come to his own conclusions. “She's a Taft now.”
“Ah.” Something in Jaiden's eyes made it seem like he understood. “My mother passed away seven years ago.”
“So did my father.” Ethan frowned, his brow furrowing as he dragged a hand over his soaking hair. “Weird. Coincidence, huh?”
Jaiden shook his head, stepping lightly into the kitchen and idly taking in his surroundings. His mother had a fruit and vegetable theme at the moment, with everything in shades of yellow and green. “Not quite. The parent carrying the mutation seems to always die at the age of forty.”
“Mutation?”
“There's pizza in the freezer,” Jeanine announced as she swept back into the kitchen, an armful of towels and dry clothes tucked under her chin. “I could hear your stomach grumbling from the closet, Ethan.”
He immediately clamped down on the questions he wanted to ask, though the look he tossed Jaiden later promised he'd be demanding answers later. “Thanks, mom,” Ethan replied, moving to take some of her burden out of her hands.
“I don't want you to get sick,” Jeanine retorted and smiled, her gaze dancing between the two boys before she lifted a hand, tapping her chin. “You know, I don't think I've ever heard you mention a Jaiden. Where's Dray?”
“At home. Sleeping off a hangover most likely,” Ethan answered, dropping the cloth onto the table and pulling out a huge beach towel for Jaiden's use. Cheery cartoon characters greeted him, though the aerokinetic didn't seem to mind.
“Did you tell him about the fire?”
“It wasn't my priority, no.”
His mother rolled her eyes, popping open the freezer and pulling out a couple of DiGiornos. “And that's why we keep telling you to get a cell phone.”
“One more expense I don't need, Mom. Have you forgotten that I'm a poor college student?” he countered, rubbing a towel over his head and stripping out of his wet shirt. It dropped to the floor with a soggy squish, prompting a look of disappointment from Jeanine.
The oven opened with a loud rumble as Jeanine checked it for other possible pans and/or recently baked pastries, and shut once more. She twisted the old dial and set it to pre-heat, carefully prepping the two pizzas. Just looking at the topping-laden crusts made Ethan's stomach complain loudly, mouth watering. Damn, but he was hungry.
“I haven't. That's why you should eat dinner here more,” his mother responded with a pointed look at him.
Ethan rolled his eyes as she stalked nearer, and couldn't avoid her hand as it snaked out, pinching at his stomach. “See? That cute little pudge you had here is almost gone.”
“Stop it,” Ethan hissed, stepping out of range and telling himself that he was not running away.
Jeanine just smirked at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Put the pizzas in when the light goes out. They'll be done in ten minutes,” she said, turning on her heels and heading for the den, bare feet slapping lightly against the diamond tile.
“Back to MST3K?” he called after her.
“Of course. They're mocking Godzilla!” she retorted, flicking a hand over her shoulder and snagging her abandoned wine cooler as she stepped down into the den.
Jaiden watched her exit as Ethan pulled on a dry shirt, figuring he could handle his somewhat damp pants for a moment.
“Your mom's nice,” Jaiden commented, almost wistfully as he lowered himself down into one of the stools scattered around the bar. “I don't see what I had to be worried about.”
Ethan scoffed, thinking that Jaiden had no idea. His mother had many faces, including the ones she preferred to show his friends. Cute and sassy was her favorite. It failed to hide the madness that lingered beneath. He loved her dearly, but honestly, his mother was nuts.
“Yeah, try living with her,” he retorted, and shuffled towards the oven as the orange light went out. He stuffed the pizzas onto the racks and flicked on the timer. “All my friends used to say that when I was a kid.”
“Hmmm.” Jaiden hummed noncommittally in his throat, and snagged one of the towels, squeezing water out of his twists.
Ignoring the aerokinetic's usual lack of a proper response, Ethan dug around the fridge, looking for something suitable to drink. Sprite for himself, and it looked like regular Pepsi for Jaiden. In the background, he heard his mother laugh loudly at the antics on the television. At least she wasn't paying them too much attention. And she'd been successfully diverted from asking too many questions. Ethan thanked his usually bad luck that his step-father and his little sister were already asleep.
“So,” Ethan began, dropping back into his chair as he waited for the pizza to finish. “Explain.”
Jaiden didn't seem particularly inclined to do so immediately, slowly stripping out of his soaked hoodie. “It's a long story.”
“I've nothing but time.”
It didn't matter that Ethan was exhausted, aching, and starving. He could see the answers he had sought dangling in front of him like a carrot for a mule. And he'd be damned if he let someone keep leading him astray, offering but not actually letting him eat. He was going to seize that sneaky carrot if it was the last thing he did.
The aerokinetic lifted his shoulders in defeat. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Ethan stared, hoping to unnerve Jaiden into speaking quicker. It was painfully obvious that the other man stalled for time. Why, he didn't know. He just watched as Jaiden prepared his answers, and wished he could sense the aerokinetic's emotions. It would be that much easier to tell if he were lying or not. As it were, he could only hear the faintest edges of his sleeping sister – colorful, bubbly Brittney Spears, pre-Toxic – and his step-father – solid, country twang with an edge, Garth Brooks on crack.
“Forty years ago, a pharmaceutical company called Next Line conducted less than legal experiments on a large group of children, mixed-age. They were students of a small school in the suburbs of Phoenix.”
“Arizona?”
It stunned Ethan that the only thing he could think to ask was to confirm that these experiments took place in Arizona. Perhaps it was the disgust talking.
Jaiden inclined his head. “Yes, Arizona. They were testing the results of a new drug, something to enhance abilities, like a steroid only much, much stronger.”
Ethan worked his jaw, trying to absorb the information. “Gene manipulation?”
The aerokinetic shrugged, scratching a finger over his ear. “I don't know. Maybe. All we're certain of is that the drug produced no visible results in their focus group.”
“Pity,” Ethan drawled, his stomach crawling at the thought.
Pushing untested drugs on children? What were those monsters thinking? How to make a quick enough dime? That was deplorable. He hoped he never encountered someone like that. He didn't want to hear the sort of emotions that crawled through that sort of brain.
“It did, however, have some unintentional... benefits, I suppose you could call them,” Jaiden continued, his gaze straying from Ethan to wander over the many items that decorated the kitchen. His mother had quite the eclectic collection. “While the test group displayed nothing spectacular, their children emerged with abilities – Kinetics.”
Ethan frowned. “No visible changes, huh?” he repeated, sick at the thought. “So they just altered them enough that it could be passed into their kids. Like that makes it any better.”
The oven buzzed alarmingly loud, alerting him to the fact that the pizzas were done. Though he would have already known it by the smell of sauce, dough, and processed meats filling the room. He rose to his feet in a sort of daze, deeming the crispy crusts done and pulling out the two pies.
Drug testing and body alterations. No doubt there was a cover-up in there somewhere. Ethan wished he could be more surprised to hear of illegal experiments, but really, they were a common thing in this day and age. It was everywhere in the media. He didn't doubt that it existed in reality as well. Fiction always had some basis in truth, and as everyone knew, truth had the tendency to be even stranger than fiction. That didn't make it any less difficult to swallow.
“It was probably your father,” Jaiden continued, his voice taking on a monotony as he relayed the necessary answers. Fingers smoothed across Ethan's table, across the cool, polished wood. “Forty was a very bad age for their test subjects.”
Ethan remembered, as he shoved the pizzas on the counter and idly rolled the cutter over them, what the doctor had told them. He didn't know why Ethan's father – Lucas – had died. His body had simply given up on him, as if it had succumbed to old age. It wasn't a heart attack, his heart had just stopped beating. His lungs had stopped working. He just... stopped, like a robot that had run out of energy or a wind-up clock that needed another few turns.
No one had an explanation. And a teenage Ethan had been furious. It was worsened by the fact that he had no one to direct his anger at. Just his father, dead in the morgue, and he and his mother left all alone. His misery was worsened by his mother's sorrow, “Last Night on Earth” and Delta Goodrem a constant litany in the back of his mind. He was only spared her grief when she was drunk, and that quickly became a common occurrence.
Ethan spent a lot of time at Dray's house in the year or so following his father's death. Lucas had been the rock of their family, an unbreakable foundation. To learn that some unethical, selfish company had been the cause of Lucas' death made Ethan's juvenile anger return. He had never heard of Next Line Pharmaceuticals, but he was determined to scrape up something.
He set the pizza in front of Jaiden, and if he weren't already so hungry, he would have lost his appetite. As it were, he hadn't eaten anything worthwhile all day and his stomach clamped angrily. He ate only because he needed to, though the pizza tasted like cardboard in his mouth.
“How many?” he asked around a mouthful of sticky cheese and pepperoni.
“Many?”
“Kinetics,” Ethan clarified, his gaze captured by the wall clock with it's swinging cat's tail and eyes bobbing back and forth. “How many are there?”
Jaiden reached for a slice, crunching into it crust first as his pop collected condensation on the sides, untouched. “Hundreds at least, if not more. There were five-hundred students in that academy, from kindergarten to sixth grade, and they scattered all over the globe.”
“So your job is to find them.”
“No, my job is to protect them when they are found,” Jaiden corrected, reaching with one hand to pop the lid on the can with a loud crack. “Ektos offers asylum to any Kinetic, no matter their ability or whether they wish to join the organization. Kryptos is not the only threat.”
Ethan didn't doubt that for a moment. He kept his ability hidden, except for Dray, for his entire life because he knew what the general populace thought of such a talent. Sure there were many who thought them fascinating and cool, like a superpower. That was mostly among the younger generation. They probably would have regarded him as some hero.
The older folk would treat it with suspicion. Some would see it as the powers of the devil, or that he was a monster, a freak. Some would be interested in studying him, taking him apart piece by piece to see how he worked. Still others would want to use him for their purpose, and even more would be all too willing to drive him from town.
Nobody wanted to know that what they believed to be private, wasn't secret so long as someone like Ethan was around. He would always know what they felt, if they told a lie, if they meant what it said. They didn't even know that he liked it even less than they did.
This was real life, not some cartoon show about spandex-wearing mutants. And Ethan preferred his life the way it was, quiet and unobtrusive.
“Humanity itself is the worst threat,” Ethan muttered, and crunched down on a piece of pizza, attempting to enjoy what should have been a delicious meal.
Jaiden didn't respond to his under-breath statement. The silence that fell between them was full of contemplation, Ethan absorbing the new information without an air of skepticism. The proof was in front of him after all. He had to have gotten his ability from somewhere.
He washed down the pizza with a mouthful of Sprite. “What is it? Kryptos, I mean.”
“Kryptos was started by the son of the president of Next Line. In order to cover up his father's testing, he's made it a point to eliminate all traces of the Kinetic existence.”
“By killing them,” Ethan stated flatly, thinking that Taylor had not been there to invite him to tea. There had been nothing but malice in that man's gaze.
Jaiden inclined his head. “By any means necessary, including death. And he doesn't limit his scope to the Kinetics, but to their families as well. Wiping them out completely.”
Frowning, Ethan considered something. “Taylor's a pyrokinetic,” he mused aloud. “Why is he working for Kryptos?”
“Taylor's got more than a few screws loose. Pyros tend to be like that, something about the unpredictability of fire itself,” Jaiden replied with a disgusted note, and Ethan had the impression that Jaiden knew Taylor beforehand. That it wasn't the first time he'd crossed kinetic with Taylor, and perhaps they had even known each other before becoming enemies. “He thinks the world needs to be cleansed of Kinetics.”
“Even himself?”
At Jaiden's nod, Ethan shuddered. It was the zealous types like Taylor that were the worst sort of enemy. Because they couldn't be reasoned with, or countered. They couldn't be distracted. They didn't fear pain or death, because their own lives didn't matter to them. Lacking self-preservation, a driving force in human existence, these zealots were more than self-destructive. They were dangerous.
He dropped his second slice back to the plate, half-finished. A passing glance and he noticed that Jaiden had eaten the rest of the first pizza himself. It boggled Ethan's mind, though it did save him from having to save both of the cooked pies. One would have to go into the fridge it seemed. And lucky for Daryl, it would probably be his lunch tomorrow.
Ethan sighed. “Great,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jaiden. “Some guy's trying to kill me just because I exist.” He paused, and considered. “Wait... does that mean my family's in danger?”
“Not yet,” Jaiden answered, shaking his head as he cast an interested eye at the other pizza before shifting it back to his barely touched soda. “They never go after the family until their priority target is taken care of.”
Meaning as long as Ethan was alive, his family would be, too. Small favors he supposed. Not that it made things any less worrisome. What if that freak decided it would be easier to lure Ethan out by killing his family? And here he was, with empathy as his ability. It would have been nice to have something a bit more offensive. He couldn't protect them like this.
A yawn attacked the empath, and Ethan felt the anxiety and stress of the day pulling at his body. His eyes dropped and he rose to his feet, collecting the trash and dumping it into the wastebin.
“I'm racked,” he announced for Jaiden's benefit, even if his actions made that much obvious. “And I've got stuff due Monday I need to finish.”
He grabbed the remaining pizza and shoved it into the fridge, putting it atop an absurdly large box of eggs. His mother didn't even like eggs.
“I can guess you're going to follow me wherever I go?” Ethan asked as Jaiden rose to his feet, crinkling his soda can with a loud noise.
The aerokinetic nodded, dropping it into a blue, recycling box by the fridge. “Even if you don't want it.”
Was that a touch of humor? Well, color him surprised. Ethan cast Jaiden a strange look and shook his head. No, he didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to sleep.
Grabbing his bag, he slung the damp thing over his shoulder and moved to the entryway between den and kitchen. He cleared his throat noisily. “Mom?” He forced himself to raise his voice in order to be heard over Godzilla, snarky comments, and the sound of her snoring.
She startled into alertness, a mother's instincts stronger than her desire to sleep. “... Ethan?” Jeanine rubbed at her eyes, sitting up where she had slumped in the lazy boy. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he assured her, making a patting motion with his hands. “Just wanted to let you know we're going to sleep now.”
“Oh, okay. Goodnight, sweetie.” She tipped her head, gazing past him. “Nice meeting you, Jaiden.”
He lifted a hand in a brief wave. “Likewise, Jea-- Mrs. Taft.”
She didn't bother to correct him, already shifting back into her doze. His mother could sleep in the oddest of places; Ethan never could understand it.
Rolling his eyes, Ethan edged around the furniture in the den and exited out the other side of it. His bedroom was upstairs with the rest of the bedrooms, but he wouldn't be using it. Jaiden was the guest, so Ethan would sleep on the couch in the much smaller living room downstairs.
Climbing the stairs, Jaiden followed him, but no doubt his gaze was focused on the pictures that lined the walls to either side. Jeanine was an amateur photographer, and she loved nothing more than pictures of her family. The ones so prominently displayed here were of Ethan and Christina, wedding pictures featuring Darryl and his mother. Ethan's father wasn't present at all.
A nightlight provided the only illumination for the two boys, and Ethan's room was easily located as the first on the right. His nose twitched as he stepped inside, flicking on the light. It had been at least a month or so since he'd been here, and the still air reflected that. Not to mention it was considerably barren. He'd moved most of the essentials out.
“You can sleep here,” Ethan explained as Jaiden stepped past him and into the room. Ethan dropped his schoolbag on the floor just to the inside of the door. “I'll be downstairs.”
“That's not--”
“You're my guest,” Ethan interrupted before Jaiden could finish. “And my mother would rip me a new one if I even suggested that you take the couch.”
Jaiden lifted one brow, but didn't argue any further. “If you insist,” he said inside, and went silent as he glanced around the room.
He seemed unusually interested in Ethan's existence, as though he measured Ethan by the things around him. It unsettled Ethan just a bit. It felt like he were the bug under the microscope, pinned by a piece of metal jabbed through the abdomen. The absolute silence of Jaiden's emotions didn't help matters. He couldn't tell what the other man thought.
Ethan was used to reading people by their emotions. It was how he knew what they believed, or what their reactions meant. He could pin anyone by their emotional response. He couldn't read Jaiden and therefore, he didn't understand the aerokinetic's drive. What did his quiet platitude mean? Was he really here as a bodyguard?
He never realized how much he had relied on his empathy until that moment.
“The bathroom's down the hall, second door on the left,” Ethan said, frowning to himself. “I'll be downstairs.”
When Jaiden said nothing further, he left the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Jaiden was a grown man. He could find his way around if he needed anything else. Ethan himself just wanted to drop down onto the couch and sleep, for ten hours straight if possible.
He raided the linen closet for a blanket and a pillow and trudged back downstairs, catching sight of the ticking clock as he passed it in the main hallway. Long after midnight, he noticed. And he'd been up since before seven in the morning. No wonder he was so exhausted.
Ethan passed the den and noticed his mother was still sleeping, only this time it was more than a light doze. She was completely out. Shaking his head, he quietly moved into the den. Jeanine didn't stir as he pulled the blanket off the chair and draped it over, cutting off the TV as well. There was no point in waking her to move upstairs.
Asleep, her emotions were much more settled. Less techno-dance and more soft pop, like a ditty from the nineties – Savage Garden or something. She must have been having pleasant dreams. Good. His mother was absolutely crazy, but she still deserved some happiness. Which was why Ethan never protested her second marriage. At least, not outwardly anyways.
Swiping his pillow and blanket from where he'd set them aside, Ethan trudged back to the living room. Moonlight cast silvery streams through the not-quite-closed curtains. But the rain had stopped, leaving the quiet sounds of dripping water from the gutters and the trees.
Ethan dropped down onto the couch, feeling the strain of the day tugging at him. He kicked off his pants, leaving himself clad in boxers and his white t-shirt. It tended to get hot downstairs. Pulling the blanket over him, Ethan stared at the wall, bathed in shadows. On the edges of his senses, multiple emotions hummed and buzzed. The spot of emptiness that was Jaiden seemed even louder for its silence.
He fell asleep to the distant lull of something classical.
* * * a/n: So... how unbelievable is it? Do the explanations make sense at least? Also, apologies to anyone who actually lives in Phoenix. Do they have suburbs?
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Previous Chapter II Next Chapter
Title: Synesthesia
Rating: T (for mild violence and language)
Description: Ethan has lived with his gift -- hearing emotions as music -- his entire life. And he's learned to cope with it. But when a serial killer makes a home in his town, and he's contacted by different groups all wanting to make use of his ability, he finds himself dragged into the thick of things. And all he wants to do is be left alone.
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Five
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Ethan's mother and stepfather lived on the outskirts of town, the boundaries of civilization right before it became 'country' and saved him an extra twenty minutes on the school bus in the mornings. The neighborhood was filled with old people and families, and as he drove down the darkened street, he felt a curdling of disquiet in his belly. He couldn't even call it a street, as there wasn't one side or the other, but an unmarked stretch of pavement with homes lined in a perfect row on either side. Each decorated in its own fashion, even if they were cut from the same cookie-cutter shape.
It wasn't that Ethan didn't like the house. But this wasn't his childhood house. No, this was Daryl's house, and they'd had to move in with the man when his mother remarried a few years ago. It wasn't that he didn't like Daryl either. Or his mother. Or even his new sister. He just didn't like coming home.
“So... why am I going to regret this?” Jaiden asked, filling the silence of the car. The atmosphere was overly warm, and as a consequence, overly humid. Ethan could feel himself sweating very unattractively, which went perfect with the gnawing clench of his stomach.
His fingers curled around the steering wheel with a creak of leather. “You'll see when you meet my mother.”
Jaiden tipped his head to the side, gaze locked out the window as the scenery passed by at a crawling pace, Ethan preparing to pull into the driveway just behind Jeanine's Jeep Cherokee.
“Is she difficult?”
Ethan scoffed. “No, she's one of the friendliest people I know.”
“Ah, I see why that would be hard on you.”
Ethan blinked, turning his head to glare at his grudgingly accepted guest. “Was that sarcasm? Because if I remember correctly, you're not sleeping on the ground tonight because of my graciousness.”
He thought he might have heard a small harrumph of amusement. “I deeply appreciate it, Ethan. Why do you dislike your mother?”
He growled. “I never said that I dislike her,” Ethan retorted, throwing his Honda into park and switching off the headlights. “You'll see.”
Ethan jerked open his door and stepped out of the car, briefly opening the back door to pull out his two bags. He sighed as he looked at his house, the front door opening in curiosity as his mother stepped onto the porch.
Two stories of Colonial wood greeted his eyes, the wraparound porch on the front decorated by a mildly safe swinging seat and countless hanging baskets of flowers. The house itself was a tasteful white, with painted shutters and a rooster weathervane jutting right next to the brick-laid chimney top. A stone walk led from the driveway to the few steps up to the porch and Ethan wisely stuck to it, stepping from rock to rock as Jaiden trailed along behind him.
“Ethan?” His mother greeted, sounding surprised. “It's late. What are you doing here?”
“Why are you still up?” Ethan questioned, shifting the weight of his bag. Sometimes, his mom was attacked by stretches of insomnia, so this wasn't as unusual as he'd like to believe.
“Re-runs,” Jeanine answered briefly before Ethan was enveloped in a warm, mushy hug, his mom pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. It didn't matter how old he was, she still greeted him like that every time. He'd long learned it was pointless to try and deny her.
He endured the affection, and pulled away, deftly avoiding the second grab for a hug. “MST3K, I assume.”
“Of course.” She grinned, and noticed Jaiden, her eyes flicking past him. “And who's this? Wow, aren't you handsome?”
Ethan felt a headache coming on, and it had nothing to do with the blurred noises of his mother's emotions. She was drunk again, or her version of it anyway. The only good thing that came out of her tipsiness was that it hid her Techno-Dance emotions from his senses. Cascada came to mind, and DHT, on a daily basis.
Jaiden didn't blink at her forwardness, holding out a hand. Little did he know that silly, polite things like handshakes weren't Jeanine's style. In a few seconds, she had enveloped the aerokinetic in a hug just as tight as the one she had given her son.
Well, Ethan had warned him.
“This is a friend of mine, Jaiden,” Ethan explained, knowing far, far better than to tell the complete truth. “And like me, he needs a place to crash tonight.”
Releasing Jaiden from her suffocating embrace, a whiff of wine coolers in her wake, Jeanine breezed back towards Ethan, shooing him into the house. “Why? What's wrong with your apartment?”
“It's behind yellow tape.”
His mother blinked, blue eyes confused. “I... what?”
“Fire,” Jaiden answered succinctly, looking a little perturbed by Jeanine's unwanted affection. “A little smoke damage. Nothing serious.”
“Ethan!” Jeanine practically squealed, her voice loud enough to rattle in the still and silence of the hallway as he obediently shucked his shoes and motioned for Jaiden to do the same. “What happened?”
He shrugged, tugging off his wet jacket and hanging it on the coatrack where it proceeded to drip on the floor. Oh, well. It was close to a vent. It would dry soon enough.
“Nothing serious, mom. The sprinklers put it out before anything got dangerous. But now everything's soaked so I can't stay there.”
Jeanine frowned deeply, looking him over. “You're soaked,” she exclaimed, and dragged his arm, pushing him towards the kitchen. “And dripping everywhere. Go where I can actually use a mop!”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“And don't smartass me child. I birthed you,” she retorted, shooting him a stern look as he stepped into the kitchen with a messy squelch of soaked socks on tile. “You too, Jaiden. Check the fridge while I get some towels.”
“Thank you, Mrs. McCormick.”
She paused in the midst of turning towards the hall, Ethan halting as well as he dropped his bags on the table. A sad smile flittered onto his mother's cheek and she turned back, lifting a hand to gently pat Jaiden's cheek.
“That's sweet, but just call me Jeanine, okay?” she asked with another dazzling smile, breath smelling of green apples.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jeanine rolled her eyes, and then she was gone, off in search of towels and probably dry clothes for the both of them. Ethan still had some of his least-liked clothes up in his untouched room. He doubted his mother would ever do anything with it until she was absolutely certain he wasn't coming back.
In her absence, Jaiden looked at Ethan questioningly. “Jeanine?”
“She's not a McCormick anymore,” Ethan answered quietly, figuring it was better to answer the aerokinetic rather than let him come to his own conclusions. “She's a Taft now.”
“Ah.” Something in Jaiden's eyes made it seem like he understood. “My mother passed away seven years ago.”
“So did my father.” Ethan frowned, his brow furrowing as he dragged a hand over his soaking hair. “Weird. Coincidence, huh?”
Jaiden shook his head, stepping lightly into the kitchen and idly taking in his surroundings. His mother had a fruit and vegetable theme at the moment, with everything in shades of yellow and green. “Not quite. The parent carrying the mutation seems to always die at the age of forty.”
“Mutation?”
“There's pizza in the freezer,” Jeanine announced as she swept back into the kitchen, an armful of towels and dry clothes tucked under her chin. “I could hear your stomach grumbling from the closet, Ethan.”
He immediately clamped down on the questions he wanted to ask, though the look he tossed Jaiden later promised he'd be demanding answers later. “Thanks, mom,” Ethan replied, moving to take some of her burden out of her hands.
“I don't want you to get sick,” Jeanine retorted and smiled, her gaze dancing between the two boys before she lifted a hand, tapping her chin. “You know, I don't think I've ever heard you mention a Jaiden. Where's Dray?”
“At home. Sleeping off a hangover most likely,” Ethan answered, dropping the cloth onto the table and pulling out a huge beach towel for Jaiden's use. Cheery cartoon characters greeted him, though the aerokinetic didn't seem to mind.
“Did you tell him about the fire?”
“It wasn't my priority, no.”
His mother rolled her eyes, popping open the freezer and pulling out a couple of DiGiornos. “And that's why we keep telling you to get a cell phone.”
“One more expense I don't need, Mom. Have you forgotten that I'm a poor college student?” he countered, rubbing a towel over his head and stripping out of his wet shirt. It dropped to the floor with a soggy squish, prompting a look of disappointment from Jeanine.
The oven opened with a loud rumble as Jeanine checked it for other possible pans and/or recently baked pastries, and shut once more. She twisted the old dial and set it to pre-heat, carefully prepping the two pizzas. Just looking at the topping-laden crusts made Ethan's stomach complain loudly, mouth watering. Damn, but he was hungry.
“I haven't. That's why you should eat dinner here more,” his mother responded with a pointed look at him.
Ethan rolled his eyes as she stalked nearer, and couldn't avoid her hand as it snaked out, pinching at his stomach. “See? That cute little pudge you had here is almost gone.”
“Stop it,” Ethan hissed, stepping out of range and telling himself that he was not running away.
Jeanine just smirked at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Put the pizzas in when the light goes out. They'll be done in ten minutes,” she said, turning on her heels and heading for the den, bare feet slapping lightly against the diamond tile.
“Back to MST3K?” he called after her.
“Of course. They're mocking Godzilla!” she retorted, flicking a hand over her shoulder and snagging her abandoned wine cooler as she stepped down into the den.
Jaiden watched her exit as Ethan pulled on a dry shirt, figuring he could handle his somewhat damp pants for a moment.
“Your mom's nice,” Jaiden commented, almost wistfully as he lowered himself down into one of the stools scattered around the bar. “I don't see what I had to be worried about.”
Ethan scoffed, thinking that Jaiden had no idea. His mother had many faces, including the ones she preferred to show his friends. Cute and sassy was her favorite. It failed to hide the madness that lingered beneath. He loved her dearly, but honestly, his mother was nuts.
“Yeah, try living with her,” he retorted, and shuffled towards the oven as the orange light went out. He stuffed the pizzas onto the racks and flicked on the timer. “All my friends used to say that when I was a kid.”
“Hmmm.” Jaiden hummed noncommittally in his throat, and snagged one of the towels, squeezing water out of his twists.
Ignoring the aerokinetic's usual lack of a proper response, Ethan dug around the fridge, looking for something suitable to drink. Sprite for himself, and it looked like regular Pepsi for Jaiden. In the background, he heard his mother laugh loudly at the antics on the television. At least she wasn't paying them too much attention. And she'd been successfully diverted from asking too many questions. Ethan thanked his usually bad luck that his step-father and his little sister were already asleep.
“So,” Ethan began, dropping back into his chair as he waited for the pizza to finish. “Explain.”
Jaiden didn't seem particularly inclined to do so immediately, slowly stripping out of his soaked hoodie. “It's a long story.”
“I've nothing but time.”
It didn't matter that Ethan was exhausted, aching, and starving. He could see the answers he had sought dangling in front of him like a carrot for a mule. And he'd be damned if he let someone keep leading him astray, offering but not actually letting him eat. He was going to seize that sneaky carrot if it was the last thing he did.
The aerokinetic lifted his shoulders in defeat. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Ethan stared, hoping to unnerve Jaiden into speaking quicker. It was painfully obvious that the other man stalled for time. Why, he didn't know. He just watched as Jaiden prepared his answers, and wished he could sense the aerokinetic's emotions. It would be that much easier to tell if he were lying or not. As it were, he could only hear the faintest edges of his sleeping sister – colorful, bubbly Brittney Spears, pre-Toxic – and his step-father – solid, country twang with an edge, Garth Brooks on crack.
“Forty years ago, a pharmaceutical company called Next Line conducted less than legal experiments on a large group of children, mixed-age. They were students of a small school in the suburbs of Phoenix.”
“Arizona?”
It stunned Ethan that the only thing he could think to ask was to confirm that these experiments took place in Arizona. Perhaps it was the disgust talking.
Jaiden inclined his head. “Yes, Arizona. They were testing the results of a new drug, something to enhance abilities, like a steroid only much, much stronger.”
Ethan worked his jaw, trying to absorb the information. “Gene manipulation?”
The aerokinetic shrugged, scratching a finger over his ear. “I don't know. Maybe. All we're certain of is that the drug produced no visible results in their focus group.”
“Pity,” Ethan drawled, his stomach crawling at the thought.
Pushing untested drugs on children? What were those monsters thinking? How to make a quick enough dime? That was deplorable. He hoped he never encountered someone like that. He didn't want to hear the sort of emotions that crawled through that sort of brain.
“It did, however, have some unintentional... benefits, I suppose you could call them,” Jaiden continued, his gaze straying from Ethan to wander over the many items that decorated the kitchen. His mother had quite the eclectic collection. “While the test group displayed nothing spectacular, their children emerged with abilities – Kinetics.”
Ethan frowned. “No visible changes, huh?” he repeated, sick at the thought. “So they just altered them enough that it could be passed into their kids. Like that makes it any better.”
The oven buzzed alarmingly loud, alerting him to the fact that the pizzas were done. Though he would have already known it by the smell of sauce, dough, and processed meats filling the room. He rose to his feet in a sort of daze, deeming the crispy crusts done and pulling out the two pies.
Drug testing and body alterations. No doubt there was a cover-up in there somewhere. Ethan wished he could be more surprised to hear of illegal experiments, but really, they were a common thing in this day and age. It was everywhere in the media. He didn't doubt that it existed in reality as well. Fiction always had some basis in truth, and as everyone knew, truth had the tendency to be even stranger than fiction. That didn't make it any less difficult to swallow.
“It was probably your father,” Jaiden continued, his voice taking on a monotony as he relayed the necessary answers. Fingers smoothed across Ethan's table, across the cool, polished wood. “Forty was a very bad age for their test subjects.”
Ethan remembered, as he shoved the pizzas on the counter and idly rolled the cutter over them, what the doctor had told them. He didn't know why Ethan's father – Lucas – had died. His body had simply given up on him, as if it had succumbed to old age. It wasn't a heart attack, his heart had just stopped beating. His lungs had stopped working. He just... stopped, like a robot that had run out of energy or a wind-up clock that needed another few turns.
No one had an explanation. And a teenage Ethan had been furious. It was worsened by the fact that he had no one to direct his anger at. Just his father, dead in the morgue, and he and his mother left all alone. His misery was worsened by his mother's sorrow, “Last Night on Earth” and Delta Goodrem a constant litany in the back of his mind. He was only spared her grief when she was drunk, and that quickly became a common occurrence.
Ethan spent a lot of time at Dray's house in the year or so following his father's death. Lucas had been the rock of their family, an unbreakable foundation. To learn that some unethical, selfish company had been the cause of Lucas' death made Ethan's juvenile anger return. He had never heard of Next Line Pharmaceuticals, but he was determined to scrape up something.
He set the pizza in front of Jaiden, and if he weren't already so hungry, he would have lost his appetite. As it were, he hadn't eaten anything worthwhile all day and his stomach clamped angrily. He ate only because he needed to, though the pizza tasted like cardboard in his mouth.
“How many?” he asked around a mouthful of sticky cheese and pepperoni.
“Many?”
“Kinetics,” Ethan clarified, his gaze captured by the wall clock with it's swinging cat's tail and eyes bobbing back and forth. “How many are there?”
Jaiden reached for a slice, crunching into it crust first as his pop collected condensation on the sides, untouched. “Hundreds at least, if not more. There were five-hundred students in that academy, from kindergarten to sixth grade, and they scattered all over the globe.”
“So your job is to find them.”
“No, my job is to protect them when they are found,” Jaiden corrected, reaching with one hand to pop the lid on the can with a loud crack. “Ektos offers asylum to any Kinetic, no matter their ability or whether they wish to join the organization. Kryptos is not the only threat.”
Ethan didn't doubt that for a moment. He kept his ability hidden, except for Dray, for his entire life because he knew what the general populace thought of such a talent. Sure there were many who thought them fascinating and cool, like a superpower. That was mostly among the younger generation. They probably would have regarded him as some hero.
The older folk would treat it with suspicion. Some would see it as the powers of the devil, or that he was a monster, a freak. Some would be interested in studying him, taking him apart piece by piece to see how he worked. Still others would want to use him for their purpose, and even more would be all too willing to drive him from town.
Nobody wanted to know that what they believed to be private, wasn't secret so long as someone like Ethan was around. He would always know what they felt, if they told a lie, if they meant what it said. They didn't even know that he liked it even less than they did.
This was real life, not some cartoon show about spandex-wearing mutants. And Ethan preferred his life the way it was, quiet and unobtrusive.
“Humanity itself is the worst threat,” Ethan muttered, and crunched down on a piece of pizza, attempting to enjoy what should have been a delicious meal.
Jaiden didn't respond to his under-breath statement. The silence that fell between them was full of contemplation, Ethan absorbing the new information without an air of skepticism. The proof was in front of him after all. He had to have gotten his ability from somewhere.
He washed down the pizza with a mouthful of Sprite. “What is it? Kryptos, I mean.”
“Kryptos was started by the son of the president of Next Line. In order to cover up his father's testing, he's made it a point to eliminate all traces of the Kinetic existence.”
“By killing them,” Ethan stated flatly, thinking that Taylor had not been there to invite him to tea. There had been nothing but malice in that man's gaze.
Jaiden inclined his head. “By any means necessary, including death. And he doesn't limit his scope to the Kinetics, but to their families as well. Wiping them out completely.”
Frowning, Ethan considered something. “Taylor's a pyrokinetic,” he mused aloud. “Why is he working for Kryptos?”
“Taylor's got more than a few screws loose. Pyros tend to be like that, something about the unpredictability of fire itself,” Jaiden replied with a disgusted note, and Ethan had the impression that Jaiden knew Taylor beforehand. That it wasn't the first time he'd crossed kinetic with Taylor, and perhaps they had even known each other before becoming enemies. “He thinks the world needs to be cleansed of Kinetics.”
“Even himself?”
At Jaiden's nod, Ethan shuddered. It was the zealous types like Taylor that were the worst sort of enemy. Because they couldn't be reasoned with, or countered. They couldn't be distracted. They didn't fear pain or death, because their own lives didn't matter to them. Lacking self-preservation, a driving force in human existence, these zealots were more than self-destructive. They were dangerous.
He dropped his second slice back to the plate, half-finished. A passing glance and he noticed that Jaiden had eaten the rest of the first pizza himself. It boggled Ethan's mind, though it did save him from having to save both of the cooked pies. One would have to go into the fridge it seemed. And lucky for Daryl, it would probably be his lunch tomorrow.
Ethan sighed. “Great,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jaiden. “Some guy's trying to kill me just because I exist.” He paused, and considered. “Wait... does that mean my family's in danger?”
“Not yet,” Jaiden answered, shaking his head as he cast an interested eye at the other pizza before shifting it back to his barely touched soda. “They never go after the family until their priority target is taken care of.”
Meaning as long as Ethan was alive, his family would be, too. Small favors he supposed. Not that it made things any less worrisome. What if that freak decided it would be easier to lure Ethan out by killing his family? And here he was, with empathy as his ability. It would have been nice to have something a bit more offensive. He couldn't protect them like this.
A yawn attacked the empath, and Ethan felt the anxiety and stress of the day pulling at his body. His eyes dropped and he rose to his feet, collecting the trash and dumping it into the wastebin.
“I'm racked,” he announced for Jaiden's benefit, even if his actions made that much obvious. “And I've got stuff due Monday I need to finish.”
He grabbed the remaining pizza and shoved it into the fridge, putting it atop an absurdly large box of eggs. His mother didn't even like eggs.
“I can guess you're going to follow me wherever I go?” Ethan asked as Jaiden rose to his feet, crinkling his soda can with a loud noise.
The aerokinetic nodded, dropping it into a blue, recycling box by the fridge. “Even if you don't want it.”
Was that a touch of humor? Well, color him surprised. Ethan cast Jaiden a strange look and shook his head. No, he didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to sleep.
Grabbing his bag, he slung the damp thing over his shoulder and moved to the entryway between den and kitchen. He cleared his throat noisily. “Mom?” He forced himself to raise his voice in order to be heard over Godzilla, snarky comments, and the sound of her snoring.
She startled into alertness, a mother's instincts stronger than her desire to sleep. “... Ethan?” Jeanine rubbed at her eyes, sitting up where she had slumped in the lazy boy. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he assured her, making a patting motion with his hands. “Just wanted to let you know we're going to sleep now.”
“Oh, okay. Goodnight, sweetie.” She tipped her head, gazing past him. “Nice meeting you, Jaiden.”
He lifted a hand in a brief wave. “Likewise, Jea-- Mrs. Taft.”
She didn't bother to correct him, already shifting back into her doze. His mother could sleep in the oddest of places; Ethan never could understand it.
Rolling his eyes, Ethan edged around the furniture in the den and exited out the other side of it. His bedroom was upstairs with the rest of the bedrooms, but he wouldn't be using it. Jaiden was the guest, so Ethan would sleep on the couch in the much smaller living room downstairs.
Climbing the stairs, Jaiden followed him, but no doubt his gaze was focused on the pictures that lined the walls to either side. Jeanine was an amateur photographer, and she loved nothing more than pictures of her family. The ones so prominently displayed here were of Ethan and Christina, wedding pictures featuring Darryl and his mother. Ethan's father wasn't present at all.
A nightlight provided the only illumination for the two boys, and Ethan's room was easily located as the first on the right. His nose twitched as he stepped inside, flicking on the light. It had been at least a month or so since he'd been here, and the still air reflected that. Not to mention it was considerably barren. He'd moved most of the essentials out.
“You can sleep here,” Ethan explained as Jaiden stepped past him and into the room. Ethan dropped his schoolbag on the floor just to the inside of the door. “I'll be downstairs.”
“That's not--”
“You're my guest,” Ethan interrupted before Jaiden could finish. “And my mother would rip me a new one if I even suggested that you take the couch.”
Jaiden lifted one brow, but didn't argue any further. “If you insist,” he said inside, and went silent as he glanced around the room.
He seemed unusually interested in Ethan's existence, as though he measured Ethan by the things around him. It unsettled Ethan just a bit. It felt like he were the bug under the microscope, pinned by a piece of metal jabbed through the abdomen. The absolute silence of Jaiden's emotions didn't help matters. He couldn't tell what the other man thought.
Ethan was used to reading people by their emotions. It was how he knew what they believed, or what their reactions meant. He could pin anyone by their emotional response. He couldn't read Jaiden and therefore, he didn't understand the aerokinetic's drive. What did his quiet platitude mean? Was he really here as a bodyguard?
He never realized how much he had relied on his empathy until that moment.
“The bathroom's down the hall, second door on the left,” Ethan said, frowning to himself. “I'll be downstairs.”
When Jaiden said nothing further, he left the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Jaiden was a grown man. He could find his way around if he needed anything else. Ethan himself just wanted to drop down onto the couch and sleep, for ten hours straight if possible.
He raided the linen closet for a blanket and a pillow and trudged back downstairs, catching sight of the ticking clock as he passed it in the main hallway. Long after midnight, he noticed. And he'd been up since before seven in the morning. No wonder he was so exhausted.
Ethan passed the den and noticed his mother was still sleeping, only this time it was more than a light doze. She was completely out. Shaking his head, he quietly moved into the den. Jeanine didn't stir as he pulled the blanket off the chair and draped it over, cutting off the TV as well. There was no point in waking her to move upstairs.
Asleep, her emotions were much more settled. Less techno-dance and more soft pop, like a ditty from the nineties – Savage Garden or something. She must have been having pleasant dreams. Good. His mother was absolutely crazy, but she still deserved some happiness. Which was why Ethan never protested her second marriage. At least, not outwardly anyways.
Swiping his pillow and blanket from where he'd set them aside, Ethan trudged back to the living room. Moonlight cast silvery streams through the not-quite-closed curtains. But the rain had stopped, leaving the quiet sounds of dripping water from the gutters and the trees.
Ethan dropped down onto the couch, feeling the strain of the day tugging at him. He kicked off his pants, leaving himself clad in boxers and his white t-shirt. It tended to get hot downstairs. Pulling the blanket over him, Ethan stared at the wall, bathed in shadows. On the edges of his senses, multiple emotions hummed and buzzed. The spot of emptiness that was Jaiden seemed even louder for its silence.
He fell asleep to the distant lull of something classical.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
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