BBB Fic - All We Are

[lightisbreaking]

The first time the police kick down his door, catch him by the arm and drag him outside, Gerard just goes with it. He lets them shove him in the car and haul him down to the station despite how bewildered he is. When he was growing up, the police were the good guys. He was taught to respect them, to obey the law without question. And so the first time, he goes with them because what could go wrong? No matter what they think he’s done, he knows he’s innocent. All he has to do is go down to the precinct and set the record straight and he’ll be fine. It’s only when one guy shoves a small red pill in his mouth and slaps a pair of rubber cuffs on him that he begins to worry. The drug makes his head spin and his senses distort and now, Gerard really starts to panic. The rubber feels awkward against his skin, and all at once he knows what it is to be truly afraid. Now that he thinks about it, they’re not acting like normal cops. There’s no following protocol, no reading him his rights. Gerard knows he’s in trouble - he just can’t figure out why.

For the entire trip to the station, he sits and contemplates, trying his hardest to think through the fuzz now heavily clouding his mind to think of something illegal he must have done, but he can’t come up with anything. It’s the rubber around his wrists and the buzzing in his head that gives him the most to worry about. He feels trapped inside his head for the first time in his life. Somehow, he knows that it isn’t a coincidence. These aren’t like any handcuffs he’s seen before, and never has his mind felt so contained. But how could they possibly know? Gerard’s not stupid - he knows that what he can do isn’t what’s perceived as normal. It’s hardly something he goes shouting from rooftops. The only people who know are his brother and his best friend. Mikey wouldn’t tell anyone - it would only cause trouble for him as well and besides, Mikey’s his brother. In his heart, he knows that Mikey would never rat him out. Which leaves Bert, whom Gerard had told his biggest secret to just the night before. He had thought it would be okay, but now Gerard thinks back, and he remembers the fear in Bert’s eyes, the tinge of envy and resentment. Perhaps he had been wrong.

Well, he thinks, there’s no sense worrying about that now. It’s then he realises that he hasn’t been brought to the police station after all. They’ve pulled up outside a tall, white building completely devoid of signs indicating its purpose. But he’s heard stories about this place, and none make him keen to stay. And so, he begins to plan. As one of them grabs his arm and pulls him out of the car, Gerard waits until they’re outside before putting all of his strength into elbowing the guy hard in the stomach. His head swims dangerously, but he forces it away with an adrenaline rush. The cop doubles over, winded, and Gerard spins, pulling the gun out of the cop’s holster before he can reach it.

Gerard’s not a violent person by nature, but his father had warned him about this place, these people, and trained him to know how to look after himself and his brother. He’s surprised at how calm and steady his hands are when he lifts the gun and points it at the other cop, who’s just exited the car in a rush.

“Take these off,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. His heart is hammering and his hands are sweating, but he manages to keep the gun pointed at both men until one steps forward and unlocks the cuffs slowly. They fall to the ground and immediately the buzzing disappears. The static gone from his mind, Gerard breathes a sigh of relief. He’s free again.

When Gerard was fifteen, he vowed he would not exercise his power on people without permission. It seems immoral, and he knows that he’d hate it if someone did it to him. Eight years later, he’s gathering his wits and preparing to break his vow for the first time. Taking a deep breath, Gerard lets his mind reach out (for Mikey, he thinks), suddenly elated at the feeling of exercising his power. Gently, he slips into the mind of the first cop and searches for his own face amongst the many files of memory. When he finds it, he suppresses a stab of sadness at the feelings of hatred and fear attached to the memories, and sets about his task. He has to move quickly - the cops are still held immobilised by gunpoint, but he can feel this one growing restless, trying to think of a plan. Gerard quickly tears apart the memories, making sure the cop will remember nothing of him after this meeting before he begins to move again. Realising he must still have absolute control until the last minute, Gerard lets his mind keep a loose hold on the first man as he begins to slide into the second. It’s a strain, but he does the same to his second victim and then hesitates. If he lets them have control of their minds again now, they’ll merely see him staring at them, gun raised, and commit him to memory once more as someone to arrest.

He sighs, and with regret, he slams his own mind hard against both of theirs, as if delivering a physical blow. Immediately, their minds shut down and retreat in order to prevent further harm, and Gerard quickly withdraws seconds before their now unconscious bodies hit the ground. His task completed, Gerard feels panic threatening to cloud his senses. He just tampered with and assaulted the minds of two police officers. What was he thinking? He tries desperately to calm himself and get a grip. There’ll be time to think about morals and regret later - now, he needs to run. His legs are tired, his body weak (effects of the drug they fed him, he supposes), but he keeps running, stumbling until he gets home. It doesn’t take him long to collect his essential possessions, and then he clicks speed dial and waits for Mikey to pick up the phone.

“Hi,” Gerard says when his brother answers. “We need to go. Now.”

To his credit, Mikey doesn’t ask questions or protest, and an hour later they’re in Gerard’s car and getting out as fast as they can. Gerard curses Bert the entire time he drives.

**

Ryan and Spencer are the kind of friends who can hold entire conversations with a quirk of the lips or a twitch of an eyebrow. It’s been that way since Ryan can remember. When he was six years old, Ryan moved a spoon just by thinking about it. After that, it wasn’t long before his parents dropped him on the doorstep of an orphanage with a hundred dollars and a bag of clothes. Ryan tries not to resent them for it. He doesn’t remember much of his childhood with them anyway, and he knows that having to raise a kid like him can’t be easy.

Four years later, Spencer arrived at the orphanage in a similar fashion, and drawn together like magnets, they gave each other comfort where they could find it nowhere else. Spencer remembers more of his old life than Ryan. Ryan’s not sure whether this is due to the fact that he spent longer with his parents, or the queer ability he has of being oversensitive to emotions. Sometimes, Spencer knows what Ryan’s feeling even before Ryan does. It’s not quite as obvious as what Ryan can do, and Spencer often says he sees Ryan’s as more impressive, but Ryan thinks of how Spencer calms him down whenever he’s angry or upset and enables him to think clearly again, and Ryan can’t discredit it as any less useful.

Despite having Spencer, Ryan hates the orphanage where he’s been forced to grow up. Spending eleven years in and out of the place takes its toll. He’s stayed in a few foster homes, even been on the verge of adoption once, but as soon as he lets his guard down and accidentally reveals his abilities (when he was younger it was due to ignorance rather than recklessness) they send him straight back. He knows the only reason they don’t say anything is because they think no one will believe them. Strangely enough, the same day he and Spencer grab their things and run (like anyone will miss them anyway) is the same day they meet Frank.

Spencer feels his anger before he can see him. At first he thinks it’s Ryan - that maybe he’s still pissed off at the way they almost got caught sneaking out - but it’s not in his shoulders or his expression. With a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to stop him, Spencer pauses.

“Something wrong?” Ryan asks, and Spencer furrows his eyebrows, yes.

“I can feel...” He stops, because the source is moving.

Ryan follows Spencer obediently as he starts to move. If there’s one thing he’s learnt, it’s that Spencer is amazing. He’d never lead them into trouble, and Ryan would trust him with his life and more. They walk in silence until Spencer stops again and flinches.

“Close. Whoever it is, they’re furious,” Spencer murmurs, and Ryan frowns. He knows Spencer can feel everyone who’s not actively trying to keep a sealed lid on their emotions, but usually he tries to block it out. Ryan’s never seen him try and track down the source of one random emotion before.

“Spence, why...?” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence.

Spencer looks at him, face twisted in confusion. “Because he feels like you,” Spencer answers, and Ryan is left clueless. He had no idea that he felt any different to everyone else. “I can feel his power,” Spencer clarifies, and Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Spencer never mentioned that. Ryan’s about to question him further when the flowerbed to the left of them bursts into flame and a guy of around twenty storms down the steps of the house they’ve just ended up outside.

“Shut up! Just let me go or I swear to God...” the boy is yelling, backtracking down the drive and pointing his finger threateningly at whoever is standing in the doorway. Something is shouted back at him, and the guy shrugs his shoulders and stabs a finger at the second flowerbed. The flames spring up in an instant, just like the first, and Ryan stifles a shout of surprise. Spencer flinches as the anger hits him anew.

The door slams shut and the stranger storms towards them with a bag slung over his shoulder. Ryan wonders whether the boy doesn’t have the power to put the flames out, or whether he just doesn’t care. Either way, he leaves them burning down to piles of ash while he storms off, and Ryan and Spencer are quick to follow him.

“What do you want?” he snarls, barging past them.

Spencer’s reaction is instantaneous. A hand lands on the stranger’s shoulder, and Ryan feels the calm settling over him and knows it’s Spencer’s doing.

“Hey, come with us for a minute. What’s your name?”

The look Spencer receives is one of bewilderment and annoyance, obviously struggling to fight off the calm Spencer is projecting. “Frank. What do you want?”

“We know what you are,” Ryan blurts out before he can stop himself, and Spencer shoots him a frustrated look. If Ryan lacks anything, it’s subtlety.

Frank narrows his eyes, and for a second, he looks like he’s going to run. Or perhaps send something else up into a ball of fire. All of a sudden, Ryan remembers a conversation he overheard his parents having the first time they saw him do something abnormal. How they spoke of handing him in to the special police. Ryan’s heard of them but never come to see one. He knows what they do - Agents designed to find them, study them, and inevitably, wipe them out. He sees the fear in Frank’s eyes, and he knows he’s heard the stories too, maybe even met them.

“We’re not Agents,” he rushes, and when Frank still looks sceptical, “We’re like you.”

Spencer nudges him, reminding him wordlessly that they’re in public and they’ve already said and revealed too much.

“Come,” Spencer urges. Frank hesitates just a moment longer before he gives a sharp nod and follows.

**

Pete finds it hard not to be at least a little bit envious of Gabe, Bob and Patrick. He’s well aware that it’s that sort of attitude - the resentment, the jealousy - that would see his three best friends killed, but he can’t help it. He loves them with all his heart, but then he watches the way Gabe vents his anger by destroying things with willpower alone, the way Bob knows what he’s thinking before even Pete does, or the way Patrick can heal over all their cuts, grazes, burns, you name it, and he can’t stop the feeling from creeping in. These are usually the times that he disappears for a while and goes to visit Andy and Joe (the only friends he has these days where things are normal) and waits until the jealousy dissipates. It’s not often, once every few months or so, and he knows they understand, but he still feels awful about it.

Pete remembers how hard it was for them to tell him what they can do, how terrified they had been that he would turn them in, and he feels a surge of gratitude at their faith in him. Sometimes it’s hard being the only one with what he defines as a normal brain, but he’s long since learnt that Bob, Gabe and Patrick are worth more than anything that might come between them.

“Gabe’s making ramen, you want some?” Patrick calls from the dining room, and Pete shouts back his thanks. He’s halfway through telling Patrick that he wants it spicy this time (“not that weak shit you eat, pussy”) when there’s a frantic knocking on the front door, and a guy stumbles in, dragging someone else behind him.

“Hide us. Please.”

**

At first, Gerard doesn’t want to agree. But Mikey is pale and shaking, which Gerard has come to associate with Mikey’s true visions. Once, Gerard might have doubted this sort of future-telling, but that was before he learnt he could see into people’s minds. After that, anything seems possible. And so, when Mikey looks at him, eyes still half-glazed and only just becoming aware again and tells Gerard firmly where to go, Gerard says nothing, merely changes their direction.

An hour later, he finds himself knocking on some stranger’s door, chewing his lip nervously. “Hide us. Please,” he says when the door opens, and he drags poor half-conscious Mikey over the threshold as the owner of the house stares in shock.

Later, when Mikey is asleep in one of the bedrooms, Gerard sits at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen and prepares to lie through his teeth. He doesn’t know why Mikey’s brought them here, but he’s not about to give away their secret (and with it, their lives) to a bunch of total strangers. There’s three of them, he discovers. Pete, the one who he first met, Gabe and Patrick. So far, they haven’t asked any questions except for his name, and for that, he’s grateful.

“I’m sorry for throwing us on you like this, it’s just. We have nowhere to go and my brother saw - uh, heard that you could help us.”

If they caught his slip up, they don’t say so. “Oh? You just might need to tell us what’s the matter, first,” Pete says with a smile.

Gerard returns it hesitantly, unsure of where he’s supposed to go from here. Mikey had been adamant that these people could help them. He never discloses the details of his visions unless it’s important, but he had sworn that this was where they had to go. Had it been a less dangerous secret he’s hiding, Gerard might have trusted Mikey’s instincts enough to tell these people everything. But he knows all too well the cost of people finding out about them - it was still just that morning he almost got himself caught out. They’ll have him on file now, thanks to information nobody but Bert could have handed over, and there’s no way he can just start walking the streets again anytime soon. The whole situation leaves him at a bit of a cross road, and he’s terrified that both ways will lead him and his brother to capture.

“How about we start with the other guy? Can you tell me what’s wrong with him?” The second guy, Patrick speaks up.

“He... He’s tired, he... I’m sorry, I can’t...”

They exchange a look, and the one called Gabe cracks a smile like something’s been decided.

“Look, Gerard. Whatever trouble you’re in, we’re not calling the cops on you. And sad as it is, it’s as much for our own benefit as yours. You’re not the only one hiding things, huh?” He winks, and Gerard can’t help but stiffen. For all he knows, he’s stumbled on a house full of wanted criminals. But at the same time, Mikey said they would find help here, that they would be safe. And if these people don’t want to police around either...

“My brother, he... He has dreams,” Gerard starts slowly, waiting to see their reaction. When none of them do anything out of the ordinary, he continues, slowly, cautiously. “Thing is, his dreams. Well, they come true.”

This is where he expects them to either herd him out onto the street or call the police. With a sidelong glance, Gerard can see their refrigerator and there’s no mistaking the red flyer stuck to it. He’s seen them more times than he’d like to count, though he tries not to. They’re the flyers the government released last month declaring it every citizen’s duty to keep an eye out for what they called ‘mutant defects’, people with a ‘disease’ inside their brain which leads them to believe they can do extraordinary things. Gerard’s well aware that the entire campaign is just to make the people think they’re deranged and have them all locked up as soon as possible. In order to keep the peace, the flyer dictates calmly that people will be cared for and treated where they can no longer harm society. And yeah, Gerard supposes, if you count killing someone as treating them.

He sees the familiar red piece of paper tacked up on the fridge, and all of a sudden he’s convinced he’s doing the wrong thing. Obviously, they support the campaign. They’re probably acting nice to him now just so that they can haul him off when he’s not expecting it. Maybe they even already have the cops on their way.

“I should go,” he says in a rush, and he grabs his jacket and has almost reached the door to Mikey’s room before a hand grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“Don’t go. I promise you, you’re safe here,” Pete swears, and Gerard searches his eyes for any signs of insincerity. He finds none, but the flyer is still hanging there clear as day, and it sends his mind into a frenzy. It would be easy, he knows, to slip into one of their minds and find out their real intentions. After all, he’s already done it once today; he might as well break his promise in a big way. Still, something prevents him from going through with it, and instead he tugs his arm out of Pete’s grip.

“We can’t stay here. Mikey!”

“Gerard, listen to me!” For the first time, Pete’s voice is sharp and urgent, and Gerard turns his head back in shock to stare at him. “We can help you.” He glances back at Patrick and Gabe, and when Gabe gives a slight nod, Pete smiles. “Gabe and Patrick? They’re like your brother. I swear to you we’re not going to tell anyone.”

Gerard waits a minute, trying to sort this new information out in his head and make sense of it all. It would explain why they don’t want police here. But he’s grown up thinking he can’t trust anyone but his brother, and this was proved only that morning when Bert sold him out.

“And you’re not?” he asks, not knowing whether he’s trying to stall for time or just find out all the facts. Pete shakes his head, and Gerard frowns. Strange, for someone like Pete to be living with the others when he knows what they are. “And you don’t care?” he continues, resisting the urge to find out himself.

“No, Gerard. They’re my best friends, okay? Friends don’t do that kind of shit to each other.”

Gerard thinks of Bert, and scowls. “Some,” he mutters, but nobody hears him. And then Mikey chooses that moment to wander out of the bedroom, hair mussed and looking like he still has no idea what’s going on.

“Gerard? You okay?” he asks, and the concern in his eyes throws Gerard off balance.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Look, why don’t you go back to sleep? Everything’s... Everything’s fine, Mikes, we’re okay.” He says this last looking straight at Pete, and receives a warm smile in return.

“Were you arguing? I told you they were safe.” Mikey rolls his eyes as if Gerard should know better than to second guess.

“Mikey, is it? Come here for a second,” Patrick says before Gerard can reply, and Mikey walks towards him with trust in his eyes. Gerard sort of envies the way he can put all of his faith into something and know for certain that it’s not going to turn on him. He looks at Patrick now as if he’s finally safe, tucked away in this house where nobody can find them. And maybe for a while, Gerard can believe in that too. But he knows they can’t stay here forever.

“Still tired?” Patrick asks, drawing a hand up to rest on Mikey’s forehead.

“A bit, yeah. Sort of draining, you know?” Mikey shrugs his shoulders. To him, it’s just something that comes with the job, a side effect of his power that he has to deal with. So what if he gets headaches every now and then, at least he can get them somewhere he knows is okay.

“Let me help.” Patrick closes his eyes for a moment with his hand still touching Mikey’s skin. When he pulls away and opens his eyes half a minute later, Mikey is looking lively and healthy for the first time since he had his vision.

“Wow, that’s. Okay, yeah, that’s awesome,” he says with a grin, turning to Gerard to prove that he was right.

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” he mutters, and Pete shoves his shoulder playfully.

“See? We’re the good guys.”

Gerard is sitting alone at the coffee table, contemplating whether or not they really did the right thing. On the one hand, Mikey keeps swearing that these guys are okay, and if they really are just like he and Mikey, then he might be right. But then, that also ups the risk factor of them being here in the first place. If these guys ever get found out, they’ll drag Gerard and Mikey straight down with them, and Gerard has fought his entire life to stop that from happening to both him and his brother.

He’s spent so long trying to make sure that his and Mikey’s powers were hidden, that the idea of throwing everything they’ve worked for to chance is a lot to ask. Pete is showing Mikey around the house while Patrick and Gabe discuss something in the kitchen. They moved Gerard into the living room earlier, armed with a mug of coffee and free reign of the TV, but so far he hasn’t even turned it on. He can’t get his brain to shut up, for one, and he doesn’t think he could concentrate on what he was watching even if he tried.

It’s then that the door slams open, thrown off its hinges in a way that makes Gerard’s bones jump out of his skin, and his first instinct is fight. Which, again, is odd, considering he’s never been pro-violence, but ever since he and Mikey were thrown so outrageously out of their comfort zone, he feels wired and jittery and he’s itching to let his energy out somehow. Fighting for his life seems a good way to do so, really, so when the door opens that hard and fast, Gerard has two thoughts: cops, and fuck. He spins on his heel in an instant, totally forgetting about the mug of coffee as it falls from his hands and crashes into the carpet, spilling everywhere. He draws back his arm to get in his first swing, and without even thinking, slams his fist into the stranger’s nose.

The stranger shouts in surprise and stumbles back, clutching at his nose and dropping what he’d been holding, blood running between the cracks in his fingers.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” the guy yells, and he looks at Gerard with such shock and confusion and pain that Gerard is forced to hesitate before kicking him in the stomach.

There’s the sound of footsteps, and suddenly Gabe and Patrick are there, Gabe’s hand on Gerard’s shoulder. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up; Gerard’s body is full of adrenaline and he’s not thinking straight. When he does, however, his eyes widen and he slaps a hand against his mouth.

The things the guy had dropped are shopping bags. He’s not holding a weapon of any kind, not wearing a badge or a police uniform, and Patrick steps forward to inspect the guy’s nose like he knows him. To his right, Gabe is shaking with laughter, and Gerard’s stomach is flooded with guilt at the realisation that this guy is definitely a friend to them.

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck,” the stranger says, looking at Gerard, though his voice comes out sounding strange and Gerard thinks he may have broken his nose.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I thought. I-“ he looks at Gabe frantically, eyes wide, and Gabe just laughs harder.

Apparently the only person still with their mind in the right state, Patrick moves the stranger’s hand away from his nose and touches it lightly with his finger and Gerard stares in horror as he watches the bone heal and look normal again. There’s still blood everywhere, but the look of pain is gone from the stranger’s eyes, and he looks at Patrick with gratitude.

“Thanks, man. Who is this guy?” He gestures to Gerard a little wildly, and Gerard kind of wishes he could run and hide.

All the noise draws Pete and Mikey from wherever they had been earlier, and Pete looks between the three of them in confusion. “Bob, what the hell? Why’s your face all fucked?”

Bob scrunches his nose up, moving it around to ensure that it’s back to normal and without pain anywhere before he answers. “This fucker punched me in the fucking face.”

Gerard supposes Bob has a right to be angry, and he immediately wishes that he was back to his old self. Usually, Gerard would have paused, hesitated, evaluated the situation and then acted, but apparently all of that instinct has vanished over the past twenty-four or so hours. Gerard’s never been great at first impressions, but he thinks that he’s kind of on a roll today. Breaking and entering with a half-conscious brother on his arm earlier that day had been bad enough, and now upon meeting the apparent fourth resident of the house, he breaks the guy’s face. He probably needs to work on his tact.

Pete looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and so Patrick cuts across before he can say anything. “Gerard, this is Bob. He lives here. Bob, this is Gerard and his brother Mikey, they got here this morning.” He gives Bob a meaningful look as to say he’ll explain the finer details later.

Gerard scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and grimaces. “Um, hi?” he offers.

To his surprise, Bob laughs. “Must’ve surprised you, huh?”

Gerard gets the feeling that this isn’t the first time Bob has walked in on strangers in his house. Come to think of it, all four of them are taking Mikey and Gerard’s sudden invasion pretty well, and Gerard wonders how many other people like them have come here. Maybe there are other people out there with Mikey’s kind of power, and somehow, they’re all led to this house. It’s odd to think about, and he wonders why none of them stayed.

“Nice punch though, Gerard, seriously. Where’s your defense, Bryar?” Gabe knocks Gerard’s shoulder happily, and Gerard has never felt more awkward in his life.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t know-“ Gerard tries, but nobody wants to hear it.

“It’s fine, really, Bob’s like a man of steel. He can take it,” Pete assures him, and Gerard wants to point out that if Bob was made of steel, his face wouldn’t be covered in his own blood, but he refrains.

“Listen, I’m going to go and wash this off,” Bob gestures offhandedly to his face, “And you fuckers can unpack those,” he finishes, pointing at the groceries that are now all on the floor.

He disappears in search of a bathroom, and Gerard is the first to pick up the groceries. It’s the least he can do.

**

Ryan knows better than to ask Spencer where they’re going. His face is screwed up in concentration and he’s walking with a purpose. Beside Ryan, Frank looks like he’s in a permanent state of confusion.

Having been hiding out with Ryan and Spencer for three days, Frank feels kind of like he belongs somewhere for the first time. It took a while before he could trust them, and maybe he still doesn’t entirely, but they’ve shown him what they can do, how they’re like him, and for now, that’s enough to make Frank go with them. It’s unlikely they’re going to turn him over if it means risking themselves.

Now though, Frank is lost. That morning, Spencer had gotten this weird look on his face and told them to be quiet, and then they’d started walking. That was at least two hours ago, and they still haven’t stopped. Spencer’s barely said a word - just enough that they know not to interrupt whatever he’s doing, and that this will be good for them in the long run. Spencer can feel something, Frank’s gathered that much. He doesn’t entirely understand the way Spencer’s power works. It’s not like his at all. Frank just sends things up in flames by thinking about it. His only problem is that he hasn’t yet worked out how to put the flames out, because water appears to be a lost cause. So far, he’s figured out that if he just thinks about things flaring up for just a second or two and then dying down, he can sort of keep the fire under control, but this only appears to work in the case of smaller flames.

Spencer’s power though, is constant. Where Frank uses his actively, consciously, Spencer’s is constantly at work, transmitting feelings to his brain without ever stopping. Frank thinks it must get annoying, but Spencer seems to block it out somehow, and only really focus on things that are important. Which, apparently, this is.

“Where are we going?” Frank asks because he can’t help it, and Ryan rolls his eyes. Frank guesses that this is his way of telling Frank he’s an idiot, but it’s too late now. He shrugs in Ryan’s direction and keeps his attention on Spencer, waiting for him to answer.

“Somewhere we can belong, I think,” Spencer says finally, and Frank falls silent because that’s probably the last thing he’d been expecting. “I can feel a group of people like us. We’re going to find them.”

This is more than Spencer has said to them in two hours, and so Frank counts his victories and decides not to push it. Ryan looks a little miffed that Frank got answers where Ryan couldn’t, but he gets over it soon enough, and Frank suspects that has something to do with their new destination. Ryan hasn’t had somewhere to belong since he was a kid, and if that’s important to anyone, it’s Ryan.

Frank expects that they won’t get wherever they’re going for at least another few hours, but to his surprise, it only takes 40 minutes before Spencer is coming to a stop. They’re standing outside of a two-storied house on the top of a slight hill. It’s the only house around them as far as Frank can see, and he wonders who the hell it is they’ve come to find. Spencer pauses for the first time and glances back at them.

“We can leave, if you want,” he says.

Ryan shakes his head. “I trust you.”

Frank nods his agreement, because they might as well check it out. If Spencer can feel what he says he can feel, then there really might be people there who can help them. Or at least people who will understand their predicament. Frank doesn’t want to be on the streets any more than Spencer and Ryan do. He’d kicked away his chance at a safe home when his girlfriend threatened to call the police. Accidentally setting her hair on fire with his mind during a fight had probably been the biggest mistake of his life, and he had paid for it dearly. He should have known it was coming ever since those fucking red flyers were distributed, but something had made him think he could still pursue a relationship even with his... condition. Apparently, he was wrong, and he had been forced to hightail it out of there before she called the Agents on him.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Frank says brightly, and knocks on the door before Ryan can stop him or warn him to be careful.

When the door opens, the first thing Frank hears is “You’re kidding”.

“I’m afraid I didn’t say anything,” Frank says in reply, and the guy laughs and holds out his hand.

“I’m Pete. And you’re Frank, right? I was expecting you to make as much of an entrance as the other two.”

Frank’s eyes narrow. If there’s one thing he’s learnt, it’s never to trust somebody who knows more about you than you do about them. “How do you know my name?” he asks, tone wary. Ryan nudges him from behind, a wordless I told you so and Frank resists the urge to roll his eyes. Ryan is too careful for his own good sometimes, but now, Frank is wondering whether Ryan was right.

But then, Spencer had said they would be like them. And so maybe... “Is that like, your power? Knowing my name before I tell it to you?” Frank says before he can stop himself, and he hears Ryan make a noise of distress behind him.

He apparently can’t help himself, because the next thing he knows, Ryan is hissing into Frank’s ear, “Shut up, Frank! You’re going to get us killed!”

“Spencer said they would be like us,” Frank counters, and Pete watches the exchange with a confused smile on his face. “How did you know?” Frank asks again, and Pete spreads his hands in a gesture of acquiescence.

“A friend told me. I think it’s best if you came in and spoke to him.” Pete stands aside and motions for them to come inside, and Frank hesitates just a second before he steps over the threshold.

When Frank meets Mikey Way, he’s half-expecting some wise old man to peer at him over the top of his glasses and tell Frank everything about his future. Pete tells him enough that Frank understands Mikey Way can see the future, and that’s all the preparation he gets before he, Ryan and Spencer are shown through a door and all of a sudden Frank has to re-think all of his perceptions about Guys Who See the Future.

As it turns out, Mikey Way is definitely not the all-seeing oracle that Frank had been expecting. Which really, he should have figured out himself. There’re no rules about who receives the kinds of powers they have; they’re just born with them. Mikey looks like he feels just as confused and unsettled and nervous about his powers as the rest of them. Frank feels a small stab of triumph at the sight of the glasses, but not even those are the half-moon sort of deal he’d been imagining. Frank puts Mikey around the same age as himself, with carefully straightened brown hair and a scrawny frame. He looks kind of dazed, and Frank wonders whether they’d caught him in the middle of a vision. Actually, he quickly finds that this is how Mikey looks for the next couple of hours after a vision.

“Hi, Frank,” Mikey says without having to ask his name, though Frank had expected that, at least.

“Hi, Mikey,” Frank answers, not to be outdone, and Mikey gives a wry smile.

“I know you’re probably really freaked out and everything right now, but don’t worry. You’re safe here. My brother and I came here a couple of days ago, and no one’s ratted us out yet.”

“So what is this, a hideout for freaks?” Frank asks and Spencer glares at him.

“We’re not freaks,” Ryan mutters, but it’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself more than Frank, so Frank doesn’t bother replying.

“Pete, Gabe, Patrick and Bob live here, originally. My brother, Gerard, is upstairs watching X-Men with them,” Mikey pauses and grins. “I think it makes him feel like he’s cool, like a superhero or something.”

Frank catches the very slight bitterness under Mikey’s tone, and he knows exactly how he feels. It’s like they should be some kind of superheroes, like if God or Mother Nature or whoever is going to give them these insane powers, they should be able to use them to help people. Instead, they’re forced to hide them from everyone, unless they want to be thrown in a cell and murdered under the false pretence of a “cure”. Frank doesn’t want to know what the Agents tell everyone once they’ve killed off another one. That the cure didn’t work? That they were condemned to be mentally defective the rest of their lives? Frank bets they tell everyone they’ve got them safe and sound, where they can’t hurt anyone including themselves. Some nice padded prison where they can get the help they deserve. If Frank ever meets an Agent, he’s going to fucking kill the asshole before he even gets a chance to land the cuffs on Frank’s wrists.

“So what, you saw us coming?” Frank guesses, and Mikey nods.

“Yeah, sort of. I saw you coming. Not these two-“ he points at Ryan and Spencer, “-but I guess it just wasn’t that clear.”

Frank gets the feeling there’s something Mikey’s not telling him, and there’s this odd twist to his lips that stirs Frank’s curiosity, but he doesn’t bother asking. In all the movies and books he’s seen and read, the person who can see the future is never allowed to tell anyone anything, so what’s the point?

“Come on,” Mikey says, beckoning for them to follow, “I’ll show you where you can stay.”

They follow Mikey through the house until they come to a spare room on the second floor. “This one’s free. Gerard and I are just across the hall. Bob and Patrick are downstairs, and Pete and Gabe at the end of the hall.” Mikey rattles it all off like he’s been living there his whole life, and Frank just goes with it, pretending that he’s not totally overwhelmed.

“Bunking up like old buddies, huh?” Frank says, just to give his mouth something to say, and Mikey shrugs.

“It’s a four bedroom house. There should be four people living here. We had to make adjustments.”

All of a sudden, Frank is reminded that they’ve just thrown themselves on the doorstep of a bunch of strangers and expected them to take the three of them in. “This is. Kind of saintly of them, right? Just letting five random guys crash at their place?”

Ryan looks like he vehemently agrees, and also like maybe he doesn’t quite trust the setup yet. Which is understandable, really, considering just how easy it all seems. Nothing should be this easy, not when they’re who they are. There should have been long, tiring conversations late into the night, and pleading desperately for them to understand, and then, Frank supposes, the three of them inevitably ending up back out on the street, possibly with Agents on their tail. And yet somehow, somehow it all just seems to click.

“It’s the best option we have,” Mikey answers in this matter-of-fact way that Frank feels is appropriate considering nothing should really be a surprise for Mikey Way. His face is dead-pan, and Frank is hit with the realisation that Mikey has already come to accept this place as his home, as the only place he has left in the world.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, and Mikey seems satisfied.

He heads towards the door and looks over his shoulder briefly as he says, “Get yourselves settled. And then we’ll talk.”

**

Sometimes, Gerard just likes to sit and watch everything unfold around him. It’s one thing having three people with strange powers living together; it’s quite another to throw together eight of them.

It gets a little crazy having nine people in a house (let alone what they can do) and sometimes there are arguments, but Gerard is happy to say that so far, it’s been relatively drama free. He really does have to hand it to Mikey - he picked the best spot in the world. Finally, he actually allows himself to feel safe, like maybe he can have a life here, as long as they all stay under the radar. It’s been a couple of weeks, and the fuss about Gerard seems to have died down. He doesn’t get furtive glances and whispered conversations if he walks down the street anymore, and he guesses that the TV and radio ads and flyers displaying his name and photograph have died down.

Now, Gerard sits in his favourite chair and watches while Bob has a game of chess against Mikey. At first, it sounds unfair - Mikey can see the future, after all. Usually, Mikey’s gift is sporadic and his visions only really come into play if it’s something important, and more often than not, connected to either himself or Gerard. (Mikey confessed in whispered tones the night that Frank, Ryan and Spencer arrived that he thinks that’s why he only saw Frank. When Gerard asks what he means, Mikey just laughs, which is more infuriating than the vision in the first place.) However, he does have an uncanny ability to sense things, an extension of his power which gives him incredible instincts and powerful hunches. Enough, usually, to beat Bob in a game of chess easily.

What Mikey hadn’t taken into account when he agreed to play (with a rather cocky smile on his face, if Gerard’s being honest), was that he’s not the only one with a gift. Bob obviously doesn’t have the same qualms about reading minds as Gerard does, and Gerard can feel him hovering over Mikey’s mind and dipping in every now and then to even the playing field again. At first, Gerard had been surprised when he found out about Bob’s power. The others all have gifts individual to them, and none of them have ever come across somebody with the same abilities as themselves. And yet the second Gerard stopped freaking out about Bob’s sudden entrance and became himself again, he could feel him in a way that the others are invisible to him.

"You’re cheating", Gerard laughs inside his head, sending the thought with swift ease to Bob, and watching the faint smile that appears as a result.

Bob doesn’t even look up, but Gerard can feel his answering chuckle in his own mind. "So’s he."

Which is a reasonable argument, Gerard supposes, so he keeps his mouth (or rather, his mind) shut and watches the game unfold. In the end, it comes down to the final move, and Gerard lets his mind slip closer so that he can track Bob, feel out what he’s trying to get from Mikey. He doesn’t have to actually penetrate either of their minds to feel the frustration radiating from Bob, or the smugness from Mikey. He taps against Mikey’s mind gently, politely, and Mikey’s so used to Gerard’s touch by now that he doesn’t even blink. Mikey can’t communicate with him telepathically like Bob can, despite the fact that Gerard is close enough for him to feel. It’s something that comes with the talent, Gerard supposes.

It’s interesting, living with a group of people so similar and yet so different at the same time. For the first time, they’re able to experiment with their powers in an environment where it’s accepted,where they can test out their differences and how each of their powers work. The strange thing is that while Gerard knows any other human being can’t feel him, no matter whether he’s just hovering or deep inside their minds, every single person in this house (with the exception of Pete), can feel him in an instant. Regardless of their power, they can sense each other. Not in the way that Spencer does, being able to feel out their power, but it only takes Gerard or Bob letting their minds drift just a little too close before someone will tense, and know that someone is close to breaching them.

Mostly, they’re powerless to stop it. With his power, Gerard knows his own mind back to front and inside out. He knows its corners, dips and curves, the way certain areas seem to blur together (old memories he can barely grasp) and the fresher, newer part that’s crystal clear. He and Bob know their minds in ways the others could only dream of, and this is how they’re able to shield themselves. It’s only against each other, really, as theirs are the only power which involves any kind of entering the mind, but it’s fun sometimes, to see whether he can break Bob’s defences (while still staying clear of his thoughts, of course).

Mikey though, is the exception. Hovering, Gerard can feel Bob trying to slip into Mikey’s head in order to win, but Mikey is determined. It’s the last move of the game, the decider, and Mikey has spent nineteen years living with Gerard. It’s almost like a natural defence, the way Mikey has learnt to block Gerard out. Even after Gerard decided to stop entering a mind without permission, he couldn’t stay away from Mikey’s. There’s something intimately comforting about being able to wrap his mind around someone else’s, and once it was a way of calming both himself and his brother down after a particularly close call. So, despite the fact that Mikey never really actively tried to block Gerard out, he learnt how. He’s doing it now, fiercely protecting his thoughts so that Bob can’t get through.

Bob’s shoulders drop and he sighs, and Gerard feels the moment when he withdraws and gives up on trying to breach Mikey’s mind. “Jerk,” he mutters under his breath, and Mikey laughs. Bob makes his move, and the second his hand moves from the board Mikey moves his queen in a flash, hooking Bob in checkmate with a grin.

“I win,” he says.

Bob nods and admits defeat, and Gabe jumps up, rushing to take his place at the kitchen table.

“I wanna play the future-teller!” He grins like it’s a challenge he can’t back down from, and Mikey raises an eyebrow. Gabe is not Bob. Gabe can’t read the visions out of his head and stand a fighting chance. He keeps quiet though, and sets up the pieces as though it’s a game to be taken seriously.

In the end, it takes three moves before Mikey has Gabe beat. “Well, fuck,” Gabe says, and blinks, and then before Gerard even realises what’s happening, all of the pieces on the board have exploded. Well. All except one.

“Ha, I win!” Gabe shouts triumphantly, and points at his king: the last piece still standing.

Gabe, Gerard has to admit, has a pretty fucking awesome power.

Mikey just rolls his eyes, and Gerard wonders whether he saw that coming, or whether it is possible to catch Mikey by surprise. “Yeah, but now we have no chess set,” he points out, and Gabe’s face falls momentarily.

“Maybe Patrick can heal them!” he declares, and refuses to listen to any protesting until he has Patrick standing over the table, looking down at the broken pieces in dismay.

“Gabe, honestly,” he sighs, but he lets his hand rest over the largest pile of fragments anyway, and closes his eyes. After a moment, though, he opens them again and shakes his head. “They’re just objects, Gabe. I can heal people, or animals, or living things. Not this.” He gestures at the broken game and Gabe shrugs.

“Oh well. It was worth a shot. Besides, now I can remain the undefeated champion!”

Gerard considers pointing out that Gabe totally and utterly cheated, but then he thinks of the way Mikey plays, and it’s hard to accuse anyone of anything. If they’re both cheating, it’s fair, right?

He’s startled out of his day dreaming when Pete starts shouting and brandishing around a piece of paper. “Alright fuckers, listen up! Now I know you all have like, fucking superpowers or whatever, but you’re still people, which means I’m still making you help out. Chores list!” He declares this proudly, beaming from ear to ear, oblivious to the groans resonating around the room.

Ryan and Spencer choose that moment to come down from upstairs, and Pete launches himself at them. “You two are on shopping duty today.”

Bob lets out a joyous whoop. It’s usually he who does the shopping, not that anyone really knows why. It’s just sort of always been Bob’s thing, though he seems glad to have it taken away from him.

“Don’t get too excited, Bryar, you and Gerard are washing up.”

Bob’s face falls. “Fuck you, Wentz.”

Gerard doesn’t comment on his assigned job. He’ll do whatever he can to help out, considering Pete is putting his credibility and freedom on the line to hide eight people wanted by the government. He likes to watch the others though, as Pete continues to assign duties. He’s even given himself a job, which Gerard is surprised at, and Pete takes a bow at the end as if he’s done something truly wonderful for them all.

Ryan and Spencer disappear shortly after to do their shopping, and Gabe and Mikey hunt around for some other game they can play which doesn’t give either of them an advantage.

“Here, Frank,” Pete says quietly, and throws a plain jar so that Frank can catch it. At first, Gerard doesn’t understand and he frowns, but then Frank’s eyes light up and he smiles like it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him. Gerard kind of wishes that he could be the one to make Frank’s eyes shine like that.

“Thanks, Pete. Really,” he says, and the words are heartfelt and meaningful, and Gerard still can’t quite grasp why Frank is so touched by a jar.

Frank seems to notice Gerard’s confusion, and he laughs. “It’s uh. To help me out with my power, you know? I have a little trouble with keeping the fire under control. I can’t put it out, for instance.” Frank laughs again and it’s probably the nicest sound Gerard has heard in his life, this little breathy giggle that warms his heart.

“So what’s the jar for?” Gerard asks.

Frank shrugs. “So that I can practice conjuring the fire and putting it out without burning everything to dust.” He says it with a sheepish little grin, and Gerard is reminded of the curtains Frank had destroyed two days ago after Bob beat him at Mario Kart. It had been amusing, at the time, but Gerard gets why Frank’s a little embarrassed.

“Awesome,” Gerard says, and Frank seems to appreciate it.

Then, he opens the jar and gives a casual flick of his hand. The reaction is instantaneous, and the fire springs alive inside the jar even when there’s nothing to burn. Frank sets it down on the table and leans forward, concentrating hard. Then, another gesture of his hand. Nothing happens, and the fire still flickers against the sides of the jar, unable to destroy anything within its confines. It is a good idea, Gerard decides. Much better than having Frank practice on furniture. He looks a little disheartened when it doesn’t work, but he sets about trying it again, and again, and again, and Gerard has to admire his persistence.

“You’ll get it, eventually,” he tries to reassure him when Frank shows the first signs of being frustrated, and Frank smiles at him.

“Thanks. Hey, what if you, like,” he gestures at Gerard and then taps his own temple, “You could go in my head and find the part that makes this work and like, help fine tune it?”

It sounds like a reasonable theory, and Gerard thinks that if he were to enter Frank’s mind, he could probably lend some of his own strength of mind to help. But still, he hesitates, and then shakes his head.

“I. I can’t, I don’t like. Doing that. In your head, I mean.” He sounds inarticulate even to himself, and he hurries to try and explain properly, stumbling over his words. “I mean, I don’t like invading other people’s minds, you know? It’s like, immoral or something.”

Frank’s face is blank for a moment, confused, and then he laughs loud and startling, and Gerard practically jumps in his seat. “You mean you don’t sit here and read our minds all the time? Man, isn’t it even the least bit tempting?”

Gerard shifts a little uncomfortably, and after a moment, admits it with a short nod. “Well, yeah. But I respect you guys. It wouldn’t be fair.”

While apparently contemplating Gerard’s words, Frank gives another half-hearted wave of his hand in the direction of his jar, but doesn’t seem surprised when nothing happens. “That’s cool. That you care like that,” he says finally, and Gerard smiles hesitantly. “But I’m giving you permission, right?”

The thought of entering Frank’s mind is tempting to say the least. Gerard’s curious about what it’ll look like, what his thought patterns will dictate, how Frank exercises his power. Every mind he enters is different, and it’s exciting to imagine what each of them will be. Still, it leaves a sick sort of feeling in his stomach when he thinks about it, even with Frank giving his permission.

He shakes his head, in the end, and Frank shrugs and takes it with a grain of salt. “Okay. Maybe I’ll ask Bob, or something.”

Gerard feels a sharp twinge of something in the pit of his stomach, and he frowns. “Yeah, Bob’ll help out,” he says, but there’s this tone of discomfort in his voice that Frank picks up on immediately.

“You okay?”

Gerard nods quickly and stands up, the sudden desire to move away from Frank and get himself under control overwhelming. It’s not until he’s safely curled up on his bed that he allows himself to shut his eyes and disappear into his own mind for a while. He doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but there’s nothing like the comfort of withdrawing into himself until he can’t even feel the world around him. He can’t even feel the bed beneath his back as he goes deeper, deeper, pushing himself into the very core of his mind, past thoughts and memories until he’s just floating in darkness, suspended in nothing. There’s no room for thought in this kind of place, and all notions of Frank and the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when he looks at him disappear, and it’s almost as if they never existed in the first place. Almost like he himself never existed. He stays there for what feels like forever, and he loses complete track of time.

He’s still drifting aimlessly in the Void three hours later when something clenches him hard, tugging him out of the darkness and up through the levels of his mind, faster, faster, faster until he’s forced roughly back into consciousness, into awareness, and when he opens his eyes Bob is looking down at him.

“Motherfucker,” Bob swears loudly. “I almost couldn’t reach you. How do you do that? Go so far in?” There’s a lot of frustration and the tiniest hint of awe in his tone.

Gerard frowns. “I’ve always been able to do it,” he answers with a shrug. It’s a lie, but he has been able to do it for a long, long time, and he doesn’t feel like getting into details about how he found out the Void existed, or how to get there.

Shaking his head impatiently, Bob lets go of the hold he had on Gerard’s arm. “Not that deep. I’ve been to my subconscious, maybe, but not that. That place that you were in. I wouldn’t have been able to reach you if I hadn’t been touching you, or if you had really wanted to stay there.”

Gerard avoids Bob’s eyes and doesn’t tell Bob what the Void is. In reality, he’s surprised that Bob could find him. He didn’t think it was possible to venture that deep into someone else’s mind - it was risky enough for him to find it in himself. If Bob knew what it meant, what it was originally for, he’d probably make someone guard him to ensure Gerard never went there again. He knows it’s dangerous, but he’s been doing it for a long time, and it’s the only place that he can really let go. Gerard knows his own mind, backwards and inside out, and he knows he can keep control. He doesn’t think they’ll believe him, though.

“Anyway, that’s not important now. Ryan and Spencer - they brought someone home.” He says this warily, like he hasn’t decided just yet whether their new visitor is trustworthy or not, and Gerard stands up off his bed in an instant.

“Who?”

**

Spencer hates shopping, and he especially hates doing it with Ryan. Having grown up in an orphanage, Ryan in a supermarket is like a kid in fucking Disneyland. As soon as they’re in the door he grabs Spencer’s hand and drags him around in a rush of excitement, picking up anything that catches his fancy and throwing it in their shopping cart. Spencer doesn’t bother to argue, and hey, they’re shopping with Pete’s money and he obviously doesn’t care what they buy (“Just get whatever, go crazy, I don’t give a fuck,” he’d said as he pushed them out the door), so where’s the harm?

Only when the cart is completely full does Ryan agree to hit the checkouts, and Spencer breathes a sigh of relief. Ryan smiles at the girl scanning their items, but she doesn’t seem to notice, and Ryan doesn’t care either way. Finally, they get through the checkout and Spencer is again given the task of pushing the cart around.

Ryan wanders out of the supermarket and his eyes are immediately drawn to a small bakery stall to his left. The smell of fresh baked bread is intoxicating, and he drags Spencer closer. They’ve still got some of Pete’s money left burning a hole in their back pockets and it’s not like he’ll care if they grab something to eat. They’ve probably missed lunch by now, anyway.

It’s then that he spots the guy, and at the same second Spencer goes rigid, and it’s so much like the day they met Frank that it puts Ryan’s teeth on edge. He looks jittery, glancing from a loaf of bread to where the stall-keeper is happily chatting with another customer, his back turned, and Ryan knows what’s going to happen before it does. Almost unnaturally fast, the guy grabs the loaf of bread and runs, and it shouldn’t be possible, Ryan knows it’s not possible, but somehow, he’s around the corner and out of sight before the baker even turns around.

Spencer and Ryan exchange a glance. Ryan asks silently with his eyes, and Spencer nods, and in a second they’re running, tearing after the guy like their lives depend on it. It shouldn’t take them long to catch up with him at the speed they’re moving, even despite the shopping bags weighing them down, but there’s no sign of him anywhere, and it doesn’t make any sense.

“How did he disappear like that?” Ryan groans out loud when they finally come to a stop, hunched over and trying to catch their breath.

Spencer shakes his head, speaking between gulps of air. “No. Not disappear. Speed.”

Ryan’s eyes widen in understanding. “He ran like that? That’s his power?”

“I can’t read powers, Ryan, just feel them. But I’d say so, yeah.”

After they manage to get their lungs in working order again, Ryan tugs on Spencer’s sleeve and they head back to Pete’s house. There’s no point in trying to run after the kid - he’s probably long gone, if Spencer’s right about his power. Ryan’s not a very fast runner to begin with, let alone against someone with fucking super-speed. The whole idea is kind of cool, he admits. All of them, even Frank with his pyro-antics, all of their powers are based in the mind. Ryan had assumed their own brains had evolved or something, leaving them with the kind of abilities that the rest of the world hadn’t quite caught up to. Probably, this is the case with the speed guy as well, something about nerves and brainwaves, but it’s all too complicated for Ryan to deal with. What it comes down to is, awesome, this guy has an actual super power.

To be fair, Frank could probably be counted in that category as well. Ryan’s seen enough superhero movies and read enough books to agree that fire counts, yeah. He can’t see himself or Spencer in there, though. He smiles wryly, wonders what it would be like to use his powers for something worthwhile, rather than holding up at Pete’s house and trying not to be discovered.

They’re almost home when Ryan spots him a second time. He’s hunched over under a tree, tearing apart bits of bread and shoving them into his mouth. Ryan notices he puts half of it aside delicately while he munches on the rest.

“There,” Ryan whispers, nudging Spencer’s side. As it turns out, the action is unnecessary - Spencer is already staring at him intently, and Ryan assumes that he felt his presence. “What if he runs again?” Ryan asks, but Spencer isn’t listening. He’s already started towards the guy, careful, slow steps, as if he’s trying not to startle a small animal.

“Hi,” he says, once he’s reached the tree. “I’m Spencer. We saw you just before.”

This, apparently, is the wrong thing to say. “You don’t understand!” the guy shouts, and there’s a look of terror in his eyes that has Ryan pitying him. “It’s not like I can get a job anywhere and I have to eat somehow and I-“

Spencer cuts him off gently, and Ryan can feel his powers at work, gently soothing. “It’s okay. We’re not here about that. What’s your name?”

The guy doesn’t answer, just continues to look at Spencer warily, and Ryan knows that at the first sign of trouble, he’ll run and they’ll probably never catch him.

“We’re not going to turn you in, I promise,” Spencer tries desperately, and Ryan steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, and lifts the half-loaf of bread into the air with his mind.

Spencer groans aloud, and Ryan immediately lets it fall. It’s the first time he’s used his powers in public since he couldn’t control them, and he knows there’s the risk of losing his cover, all just to try and get this guy to trust them. Ryan can’t help it; he has this feeling that they need him. He kind of wishes they had Mikey with them.

“Did you just-“ the guy starts, blinking rapidly, and Ryan lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“There are more of us. People like you. Don’t run.”

Ryan wonders if he and Spencer are going to be appointed the official recruiting agency or something else ridiculous. He’s got the most acute sense of déjà vu he’s ever had in his life, and he keeps seeing Frank all over this guy’s face. Frank’s fear, Frank’s unease, Frank’s wonder, the barest hint of excitement. Ryan has grown up with Spencer, always having someone else, knowing that he wasn’t the only one. People like the guy in front of them, people like Frank, they didn’t have anyone. He probably thinks he’s alone, and Ryan is suddenly desperate to show him otherwise.

He seems to consider for a moment, and his eyes are fixed on Ryan’s the whole time. “I’m Brendon,” he says finally.

Part Two