Don't Call Me A Hero

[InnocentThorns]

A soft smile touched her lips, "Don't worry about it. I know the kinds of reactions I evoke in people. I'm a terrifying person, and you're trying to deal with so much. A little yelling is expected. One guy actually took a swing at me. To my credit, I just dodged it, I didn't fight him. That's not what we should be doing. Fighting each other? It won't help us out."


Maggie leaned back in her chair, "You'll find your way. I know you will. Once we know who you are, we can kind of help you, whether you just want to live a normal life, or if you want to join up. Again, no pressure. We'll help you, whatever you decide."


She quietly hoped that his background would turn out to be boring and free of loved ones. A long shot, but then he would be able to go on with a new life. He would even probably be spared the all-consuming anger that burned inside her. Maggie would do anything to save other people from that, though she rarely ever explained herself. The one time she did, McInerny promised her that she would never have to talk about it again, unless she chose to, and it seemed every single person in the Coalition knew about that promise. Not one of them had ever asked and demanded an answer. None of them had ever gotten one, either.


That was her burden to carry.


Stretching her arms, she leaned her head on one hand, propped up by the arm of the chair, "There should be a shower in your room, and if you want to borrow a book? Go for it. There's also a TV in there, so you could just catch up on a little bit of life. Someone can bring you clothes, too. That's actually part of the ID process. They figure out your size and someone from the clothing store brings you something. They might be waiting in your temporary room right now, actually."


Sighing softly, Maggie tried to smile, but she was so tired, "Just do me a favor, okay? Don't...think I'm a monster. Not by choice, anyway. It's a long, boring story, but I'm not such a bad person. Not most of the time, anyway."


Getting up, she held a hand out to him, "Come on, I'll make sure you've got everything you need. Want to pick out a book first?"

 

[One of a Kind]

The young man was caught off guard by her request. Unsure how to respond, the two sat in an awkward silence. He wanted to tell her that he didn't think illy towards her, that she wasn't a monster. But after seeing what she'd done, knowing that this wasn't the first time she done it, he just couldn't bring himself to say it.


However, the young man was sure that she wasn't wicked by nature. He had seen her softer side. He would like to believe that that was who she truly saw. But after seeing how satisfied she looked when she was out getting revenge, he wasn't so sure.


He sat up, his gaze unconsciously falling on the small picture, "I'm sure you've been through a lot. I'm sorry. I have no right to judge you."


The young man was aware that he had avoided her request. But this was the best that he could do at the time. He didn't know what to think of her or this organization. Hell, he wasn't sure what to think of the world. According to Maggie, the government was abducting citizens and turning them into weapons. And there's these people who believe that terrorism will solve their plight.


The world just seemed like it was falling apart.


He needed to be alone right now. It felt controversial to want to isolate himself after being in solitude for the last two months. But not to mention, the thought of cloths and a shower also seemed really appealing.


The young man was surprised, Maggie didn't strike him as the type who reads. At her suggestion, he browsed her collection of books, "I wish I had one of these back in the cell. Would have made things a lot more pleasant."


Most of the titles were unknown to him. However, the young man spotted one title which everyone should be familiar with. He pulled out a small book's who cover read Frankenstein.


"Guess I'll borrow this one."

 

[InnocentThorns]

"I like that one," she said softly. "The real monster is Victor Frankenstein. Not his creation. He was just trying to live a life that was thrust upon him. It was Victor that made it seem like a monster. Victor kills the one thing the creature wanted for himself, and then called himself the victim. It always felt kind of appropriate to me. I guess that's why McInerny gave me a copy."


Maggie walked him back to his room and made certain he got inside okay. She bid him a quiet good night, heading back to her own quarters. She locked the door, peeling off her socks and pajama pants before dropping into bed and wrapping herself in the covers. It took very little time before she simply dropped off to sleep, so deeply exhausted that not even the nightmares bothered her that night. When she woke, it was late in the morning the next day, and she felt better, if not a little sad.


It stuck with her, how he never mentioned he did not think she was a monster. Then again, she supposed she thought she was anyway. Maggie knew of all the people who had to look at her and see what she did for the Coalition, the person who had the hardest time looking at her was her. The only way to look in the mirror was to imagine she was seeing a stranger's face again, as she had when she first lost all her memories.


Getting up, she took another shower, and braided her hair, wrapping it around her head. Her clothing choice this time was far less street thug meets terrorist, and was actually rather pretty, if she could give herself that much credit. A flowing, lilac colored tunic that fell down to her thighs over pale gray leggings and little ankle boots was far more to her taste than the all dark attire she had sported the previous day, but necessity put more sweatshirts and yoga pants into her closet than she ever really imagined would be there.


Little earrings dangled from her ears, shaped like silver butterflies, and she left her room to see if the new guest was awake, and possibly hungry. She knew that learning the truth had ruined his appetite the previous day. It might help having some time to come to grips with it all. So she rang the door chime on his door, waiting quietly for him. It could have been that he was already gone, and that would have been fine. She would have encouraged it, as long as he was not going to find out his identity only to leave and go find his family or friends.


Then she would just have to break him out of government imprisonment again.

 

[One of a Kind]

The young man pressed on his door panel before waving Maggie goodbye. After giving her a quick good night, he closed the door behind him.


As Maggie had mentioned earlier, someone was already in his room, waiting on him. A young woman, looking to be around her mid to late twenties. Unlike the lively Livia, he had met earlier, this person was dressed in the SFC uniform. Until he had arrived, she had been sitting on one of the room's two dining room chairs, situated by a small, circular table.


Upon his arrival, she stood up before offering her hand out to him, "Hi, I'm Shelly Peterson. I'm here to take your measurements."


The women had this professional atmosphere, contrasting with the other SFC agent he had met earlier. She wasn't exactly mechanical, but she was serious enough to leave an impression. Formal was a good way to describe her.


She had her dirty blonde hair done back in a ponytail. Her hazel eyes were locked onto his own, waiting for a response.


The young man took her hand, "Hey there. I've been waiting to get out of these things for a while now. People today really take underwear for granted."


He immediately chided himself for telling such a vulgar joke to a lady.


Shelly simply smiled at him, even letting out a small chuckle, "Is that so? Well then, let's waste no more time getting started."


She motioned for him to take the seat she had been sitting on. As he sat down, Shelly retrieved a measuring tape from one of her pockets. Wordlessly, she lifted his arms and began to take his measurements.


Trying to fill the silence, the young man attempted to start some small talk, "So are you with the identification team?"


"No, I'm not. At the moment, I have no real position in the SFC. I just go around, helping out where needed."


"Oh really? Is there somewhere you want to be here?"


Finished taking his measurements, she began to jot them down on a clipboard, "I'm actually looking to join the combat division."


"... Combat division, huh?"


Images of Maggie's battle earlier today flashed through his head, leaving an upset feeling in his stomach.


Shelly nodded, "Yeah. I want to be able to help others who are out there, lost and confused."


The young man blinked. Her reasons were vastly different from Maggie's. Although Maggie did care about those who suffered from all this, you could tell just from her voice alone, that she carried this bitter resentment towards the government. There was definitely a vendetta being held. Shelly's honest and selfless motive caught him by surprise.


Shelly clicked on her pen, causing it to retract, "And we're all set. Do you have any preference for clothing."


"I'm fine with whatever as long as I get to wear pants."


She gave another small chuckle, "We can arrange for that. We'll have them delivered to you first thing in the morning. Goodbye."


As she left, the young man gave her a quick wave, "Thanks for everything."


After Shelly had left, a wave of silence fell on the room. He was alone again.


After he had set the book he had borrowed on the table, he hopped onto the room's bed. Dear God did it feel good. He had spent the last two months sleeping on what felt like a stiff board. Although he wasn't that tired when he came in, he was immediately too lazy to do anything. His eyes grew heavy as he drifted off to sleep.


The young man awoke to the sound of the doorbell.


Still out of it, the drowsy eyed man managed to call out, "Just a second!"


He left the comforts of his bed to find a basket placed at his door. It was filled with a variety of clothing, ranging from sweats to cargo shorts. Not really caring, he threw his gown to the side before hastily pulling a pair of navy jeans and a plain grey t-shirt.


Now looking somewhat presentable, the young man answered the door.

 

[InnocentThorns]

The door opened, and Maggie smiled up at him, seeing that he had gotten some clothing. She was glad to see that he was still there, and considered the fact that he was a good sign. Nobody would have stopped him if he had tried to leave. He would have just been able to walk out and go about his business. But she knew at least now he would find out who he had been, what his name was. That was an important part to the healing process.


"Good morning," she said. "I'm glad to see you've got some clothes. Looks good."


Maggie crossed her arms over her stomach, "I thought maybe you'd be hungry. You didn't eat much yesterday, and I know it's because you were upset. That's okay, there's nothing about your life right now that isn't upsetting. We can go get a bite to eat, then down to ID, see if they've found anything on your life. I'm sure they have by now. Unless you're some kind of super secret CIA agent who actually volunteered for all this."


She was actually teasing him gently, "Think about it. Any knowledge of how to kill someone with a q-tip and chewing gum? That'd be a big indicator."


Laughing a little, she waved for him to come with her. Walking down the halls to the elevator, she pressed the button to go to the next floor, "Did you sleep at all? You don't look like you stayed up all night. I slept like a rock, but always do after I'm out in the field."


The elevator pinged open and she got in, heading to the right floor with him. The commissary was open, as usual considering it was always open, and walked in with him, picking up a tray and heading to the breakfast themed buffet going on. Maggie heaped part of her plate with French toast sticks, they were her favorite, and another part with bacon. She did take a small bowl of fruit, but most of it was just the food she liked to indulge in.


Coffee was brewing while they were getting food, so she just picked up a carafe and took it with them to their table. Nobody minded, or looked like they did, anyway. Other tables had carafes on them as well. Sitting down, she poured herself a cup, and then offered him some.


"I have to admit, breakfast is my favorite meal."

 

[One of a Kind]

The half asleep man was greeted by Maggie when he opened the door. At first, he didn't recognize her. Instead of wearing her blood stained sweats, she was dressed in a pleasant tunic accompanied by some nice, little boots. It was weird how much clothes could effect your image. He wondered how he looked after losing that pathetic medical gown. However, his attire was rather plain in comparison to Maggie's.


The young man yawned, "Morning. What time is it?"


He glanced at the door panel, which read in green colors, 9:42.


"Oh wow it's late. Sure, let's get something to eat before we check with the ID team."


Truth be told, now that he's had time to think, he was actually pretty hesitant to learn his identity. He wasn't sure what to expect.


He nervously chuckled at Maggie's joke as he stepped into the elevator, "No, nothing like that."


He watvhed as she pressed a button.


"At first, I wasn't all that tired. But you know, I don't think most people realize how much mattresses matter."


The young man followed her into the canteen, grabbing a tray before heading to the buffet. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sweets, helping himself to primarily protein. He scooped a hefty amount of scrambled eggs onto his plate before getting a fair amount of bacon and sausage on the side. He finished off by quickly nabbing a biscut.


After filling the tray up, he sat himself across from Maggie. After she had poured herself some, the young man poured some into his own cup. He took a sip just to be overcome with its flavor.


He proceeded to drain the rest of the cup, "Out of everything, I think I missed coffee the most."

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie refilled his cup for him, "I missed being able to eat whatever I wanted."


It occurred to her that she had shared something about herself effortlessly, but she just let it pass, looking down at her plate. Instead of excusing herself, she just went ahead and had some more of the French toast sticks with the thick syrup before she came back to the world. For a moment, her mind had been swamped with memories that she worked very hard to ignore. To forget. She wanted nothing more than to focus on the present.


"You're right though. The mattresses are awesome. When McInerny was putting this place together, he had psychologists design the living quarters. He wanted people to feel safe here, not like they had traded one institution for another. And if you stay, you get to decorate your room, like I did. I know it's not very creative, but I just picked things that appealed to me."


She finished her meal and sat back, sipping her cup of coffee. It was more to relax her than anything else. While she had no idea if she liked coffee before, it was a favorite now, and she enjoyed it every time she could. Her companion was looking as if he were settling in more. She definitely liked seeing him in clothes, though she promised herself she would take him shopping if he decided to stay for a little while.


"Don't worry about finding out about your past," she said, wanting to reassure some fears she knew others had before. "Chances are, you were a great person who was just robbed of everything good in your life. I don't think you need to worry about being a serial killer. Lack of tattoos that look like barbed wire help me deduce that you probably weren't a douchebag. And you said it yourself, no knowledge of how to kill people using unusual objects, so no worries there either."


When they finished eating, she got up and walked him back to the identification area, and she smiled, standing at the door, but not going in quite yet. It was personal, finding out who you used to be, who you forgot to be. Maggie did her best to respect that moment for every superhuman she came across.


"I'll wait outside unless you want me to come in with you."

 

[One of a Kind]

The young man took a moment, considering whether or not he wanted her there for moral support. After debating with himself, he decided that this was something he had to face alone. After all, what if there was something he wanted to keep secret? He wasn't sure if his background was something he was willing to share.


He gave Maggie a look of apology, "Sorry, but can you wait outside? I won't be in there for long."


After giving Maggie a quick wave goodbye, he entered the ID lab, unsure of what to expect.


There was only one other person present in the room. A rather thin man with a pair of cheap earbuds and wire frame glasses sat in front of one of the room's many computers. The man was deathly pale, making it clear that he didn't get out much. His hair was unusually long for a man and was jet black in color. He was dressed lazily, wearing an untucked, white button up over a pair of jeans. The stranger glanced up from his computer, noticing the newcomer. He quickly minimized his work before getting up to meet with the young man.


"Hey, you must be the new guy Maggie brought in yesterday." He stuck his hand out, "I'm Calvin Lai. I'm in charge of gathering intel and iding people."


The young man took Calvin's outstretched hand, "Nice to meet you."


"It's funny, cause most people usually introduce themselves before shaking hands. But today, I'll be introducing you to you. Weird, right?"


"Yeah..."


Calvin turned around to grab a large file from the desk behind him, "Alright. You ready?"


"Ready as I'll ever be."


Calvin handed the young man the file, "Nice to meet you, Paul Hayes."


The young man looked down, taking a look at the file. The front of it was labeled in bright red letters, Paul Hayes.


He blinked, even though it was only his name, he felt like he was registering a considerable amount of information.


In hushed voice, he said it out loud as if he were trying it out, "Paul... Hayes."


Immediately, an unpleasant feeling traveled down his spine. The name felt foreign to him. His own name felt foreign to him. It was as if his own skin had become uncomfortable to him.


"Now here's the weird part. Officially, you went missing three years ago. But the faculty we found you in is known for the "awakening" process. Basically, that's when they go and give you your fancy powers. Do you have any idea how long you were there?"


Paul, who was too busy looking through the file didn't bother to look up before replying, "I don't know, maybe a month or two."


"See, now that makes sense. Usually they wait a month or two after awakening you to make sure you don't blow up or whatnot. But that means they preformed the awakening two or so months ago. Just what have they been doing with you for the past three years?"


Paul had completely zoned him out at this point. His nose was practically buried in the file. Looks like he had no criminal history, a standard high school diploma, and uneventful medical record. He frantically flipped through the documents, skimming over all the trivial information.


His hand stopped dead on a light blue document. It read in large, bold letters, Birth Certificate. The date on it read June 28, 1991, from a hospital in LA. This meant that he should be around twenty-four years old.


His heart stopped as he reached the next line. On the line for mother laid the name, Elizabeth Hayes. Just like his own name, this one didn't ring any bells. But this didn't disturb him as much as the fact that the line for father was blank.


Noticing where he had stopped, Calvin said, "You were raised by a single mother. We don't know who your father was, but your mother did a fine job of raising you alone."


"How is she now? Is she doing alright?"


Calvin couldn't look him in the eye, motioning with his hand to turn to the next document.


Paul turned past the birth certificate to find a document similar to it. He could feel the blood drain from his face. This was a death certificate. However, this wasn't for him.


It was for his mother.


Awkwardly, Calvin placed an arm on his shoulder, "Paul, I'm sorry. Your mother passed away in a car accident five years ago."


Paul refused to look up from the paper, "What about my other family? And what about my friends, how are they doing?"


Calvin, unsure how to act, looked up at the ceiling, "You didn't have any close relative other than your mom. And after your mom passed away, you dropped out of college and cut off contact from your friends, spending most of your time working."


Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was even worse than anything he could have ever imagined. The government hadn't ripped him away from his family and friends. He never had any to begin with. The government didn't steal jack shit from him.


Calvin squeezed his shoulder, trying to reassure him, "It's okay. If you want to talk about it, we have a therapist here who can help you. And of course, you can always talk to me or Maggie about it."


Paul opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He wasn't feeling angry or sorrowful. Instead, a feeling of pure emptiness sat inside of him.


After standing in silence for a while, Paul was finally able to compose himself. Forcing himself to act normal, he managed to say, "Alright, thanks for all your help, Calvin."


"Sure thing." Calvin looked him dead in the eye, "Don't forget about my offer, okay?"


"Yeah..."


Devoid of all spirit, he left the room. Once in the hallway, Maggie, who had been waiting on him, walked over to him.


Although he wasn't up for it, Paul felt like he had to say something. Trying to sound normal, he gave Maggie a weak smile, "So, apparently my name's Paul Hayes."

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie did not take it personally. It was a private thing, finding out about a life that was supposed to be yours. She let him go in alone with a gentle smile, and sat down on the floor in the hallway, making a ball out of plasma and tossing it against the wall like it was a tennis ball or something far less innocuous. It made the guards down the hall a little nervous, but she was used to making people nervous. The plasma would never get close to them. She had honed her skills long ago with the violent energy, and now it flowed through her like water.


When her guest came out, she could see the stark emptiness in his eyes. The trauma. Everyone experienced their discoveries in a different way. She hoped that he was not upset over the person that he used to be.


"It's nice to meet you Paul," she said quietly, getting up.


Maggie moved to his side, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Come on."


She did not ask him, though, what was wrong. As much as she might have wanted to, Maggie was going to keep her own rules that she made other people follow around her. So she just guided him away from the identification center, and took him back to the rooms, but not his room. The room he was borrowing did not have any feelings of life or home about it. She took him to her room, and guided him to the couch.


Silently, she went to her little kitchen and made a pot of tea, bringing it over with some cups, a dish of milk and sugar respectively, and sat down next to him, pouring a cup of the tea. It was a fruit tea, so it was almost a magenta purple, and had a bright, fruity flavor.


"It's never easy," she said softly. "Finding all that out. Whether you miss it or not. Whether you liked who you were or not. Because it was something that should have been yours."


Dumping a couple of sugars into her tea, she stirred it silently, "If you want to talk about it, okay. If not, let's just sit here and have a cup of tea."

 

[One of a Kind]

Without really thinking, Paul trailed behind Maggie in silence. To his surprise, instead of stopping at his room, Maggie lead him back into her room for the second time. Wordlessly, he sat down on her couch before allowing himself to detach from reality.


He could only think about the fact that he had absolutely zero loved ones. When he disappeared, everyone probably carried on with their lives without even noticing that something was missing. Did anyone even care enough to look for him when he disappeared?


He felt so alone.


Maggie returned, bringing a small tea set. She sat adjacent to him before pouring the tea into two cups.


Not really in the mood to talk, Paul gave a brief thanks before taking one of the two cups.


Seeing how he had a limited knowledge of the types of tea, he assumed that he wasn't much of a tea person. Despite this fact, he found the drink to be quite plesant. The flavor wasn't as overwhelming as that of coffee, yet at the same time, it had a strong presence.


After finishing his first cup, Paul had to admit, he felt a tiny bit better. Not to mention, even if they wern't really talking, Maggie's company did a lot to combat his feelings of loneliness.


The young man glanced over at the girl on his right. It seemed odd that she was going around, taking care of him. After all, she was a soldier, right? Couldn't she just dump this responsibility off on someone else? The more Paul began to think, the more he started ro believe that Maggie was actually a good person.


Not only her, but everyone else he had met here. They were all working hard to help people in need. For the first time, Paul began to see this "terrorist group" in a new light.


Without meaning to do so, Paul said out loud, "I think I might actually want to join the SFC."

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie drank her tea slowly, liking the flavor. Too much coffee made her jittery, and she had experience with use of her powers while she was jittery. While she did not expect to need to use them down in the bunker, she was always quietly ready to defend these people and her home from the government. These people who had given her a choice in her life were far more important to her than the faceless men who hunted her.


When Paul spoke, she looked up at him, putting her cup down gently without a sound, "Paul...you need to think about that carefully."


She leaned forward a bit, "Joining us, of course you're welcome to, but really think about it. You've seen what I do. What we do. The SFC are terrorists in the eyes of the law. If you're caught, there won't be any science lab cell. It'll be a prison cell, if it's not outright an execution as soon as you're captured. If I'm ever caught, I'll probably have a good old fashioned public execution, except I won't be hanged or beheaded, just injected while the people who created all this watch."


Her voice was gentle, "I'm only saying this because I want you to be truly informed. I want you to know what all your options are. If you choose to join us, I'll never say another word about it. In fact, I'll be happy to help you choose a position. It's just important to me that you have the choice."


There was that word again. Choice. Maggie knew some people took it for granted. Mostly because they had never had it taken away from them. They would never have their lives mapped out for them in a way that made it work best for everyone else. She bitterly knew how it felt, even though she was glad to be part of the SFC. But really, she could not have gone on to live a normal life, even if she wanted to.


"Would you like more?" she asked, moving away from the subject to pour herself another cup of tea.

 

[One of a Kind]

Paul held his cup out towards her, "Sure."


He mentally scolded himself. Maggie was right, this wasn't a decision he could take so lightly. This single choice would impact the rest of his life.


"You're right, though. This is something which I need to put more thought into."


But in all honestly, Paul was pretty serious about what he had said. Even if they were killers, they were only doing what they thought was right.


Plus, even if he didn't realize it, in a sense, he really needed this. Paul needed something, anything, to keep him from facing the cold reality of just how messed up his life was. Joining a band of superhuman terrorists happened to fit the bill quite nicely.


After finishing his second cup, Paul set it on the table, "Thanks for the tea."

 

[InnocentThorns]

"You're welcome," she replied with a slight smile.


"So what are you going to do now? Go back to your own room? Or do you want to go somewhere that you can work with your abilities?"


It sounded so trite to her to say practice, as if he were learning the guitar or something else innocuous and simple. He was honing his control over an ability that nobody else had, something that he could not give away or ever get rid of. It was like saying you were going to stop breathing, trying to get rid of your powers. Besides, the term practice had never been used by anyone who was forcing her to work, so she never used it either.


"There are places here to work, places that are safe and can take the shock of the abilities. I usually go outside to work, I don't trust the facilities here if only because I know how destructive I can be. But you should be safe, at least at first, to work inside."


Finishing her tea, she took the tray back to her small kitchen and washed the cups and pot carefully. They were china, going into the small dishwasher was not going to keep them looking as pristine as they were now. Sometimes, she loathed her appreciation for nice things. It only brought back horrid memories. But today, the memories were far away in her concern for Paul and how he was trying to find his path.

 

[One of a Kind]

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to head back to my room for a bit."


Paul had to admit, Maggie's offer to play around with his powers was very tempting. But right now, the confused, young man just needed some time alone to think. After excusing himself, Paul retreated back to his temporary room.


Paul immediately fell into his bed. For a couple of minutes, he just laid there in silence. Honestly, none of this felt real to him. How the hell did he get wrapped up in all this madness?


Paul shot a weary glance at the loaded file he had tossed onto his dresser. He had already scanned through most of its contents, more or less, finding nothing to brighten the situation. The cold reality was that he was completely alone.


He turned over, disturbed by this thought. In an attempt to distract himself, Paul grabbed a remote for the room's TV before turning it on. He started browsing channels, finding nothing interesting. After a minute of whimsical button mashing, Paul's hand froze.


Superhuman Terrorist Attack on Medical Facility





These words ran across the bottom of his screen in bold letters as footage of all the destruction was played. Pictures of Maggie were displayed as a reporter warned viewers that she was a superhuman terrorist and to contact the authority if they see her.


But what really disturbed Paul was the fact that there was zero mention of him whatsoever. On his way out of that place, he had to have walked past at least a dozen set of security cameras. Was it possible that the government was keeping quiet about his existence?


Deciding that he'd had enough, Paul turned off the TV and hopped out of bed. It was about time for a shower.


After a minute in the shower, Paul already felt much better about everything. God knows when was the last time he's had a proper shower. Long after he had finished cleaning himself, he continued to show no signs of leaving.


Paul cupped his hands together, allowing water to gather in between his closed palms. Seeing how he was surrounded in this stuff, the infant superhuman could hardly resist the temptation to mess with his power. He began by closing his eyes and willing the water in his hands to form a sphere.


But of course, things didn't go smoothly. The shower head shot off and collided with the wall, causing a loud noise.

 

[InnocentThorns]

There was no protest from Maggie, she knew things had to be hard for him right now. She walked Paul to the door and let him out, smiling a bit. She was well aware that it probably was not all that reassuring.


"I'm right here if you need me."


Letting him go then, she went back into her own room, settling in for a quiet day. It was the kind of day she cherished more than anything, a day where she would not have to be anyone but Maggie. They were the best days in her opinion.


Part of her wanted to go console Paul, to tell him her own story. But the parts of her that still hurt demanded she keep it to herself. Maggie wondered idly if she would ever stop hurting. Then again, three years of constant, invisible pain was probably what gave her the stupid courage to do what she did. Secretly, she always hoped that her next mission would be her last. That she would go down in a hail of gunfire and lose consciousness looking at the sky one last time.


A beep pulled her out of her thoughts, and she picked up her phone. MacInerny wanted to see her. She left her quarters and headed down to his office, his secretary showing her in immediately. Maggie had a small smile for him as he came out from behind his desk and gently kissed her forehead.


"How are you, darlin'? Really?"


Maggie shrugged a bit, "Paul wanted to join up. I tried to talk him out of it."


"Good girl," the older man replied promptly.


"We can always use help, but a regular life is usually better for most people."


"He's not like me," she said softly. "He was upset at how I worked. I don't want him to get used to it."


"You're upset at how you work, too. But that's why you're a good person, Magnolia. You still feel things, darlin'."


She quietly wished she could stop.


Nodding a bit, Maggie leaned to the side of her chair to rest on the arm, "But I don't have anything left to preserve. He could still keep his soul together."


MacInerny sat back down at his desk, "It'll be his decision. But I have a new rescue for you in the meantime."


Having something to focus on helped, and Maggie nodded. He pushed a tablet toward her and she picked it up, scanning the information. Another missing person reported dead, actually just triggered and kept from the world. She instantly wanted to do this.


"I'll get Malcolm and get ready to go."


"Be careful. You were all over the news. They'll be watching for you."


"Then I better give them a good show."


Getting up, Maggie left MacInerny's office and walked back to her room. Hesitating for a moment, she stopped in front of Paul's door, hearing a sudden loud clang as she stood there. Frowning, she rang his bell, hoping he was okay. If he did not respond, she would push her way inside.


Chances were, he would say no and she would be fine with that. But Maggie would make the offer. If he wanted, he could come with her on a rescue mission.