“Moving On”

TEASER

Gabriella Hess yelped and jumped at the sound of a gentle knock on her front door, reaching automatically for her gun. Shaking off that ridiculous reaction, she rose and moved to the door, staring out the peephole. Her tense expression was replaced by a smile as she opened the door.

“Victor, hi,” she greeted him, giving him a quick hug.

“I just heard you got out of the hospital,” Vic said, returning the hug automatically and wincing when he heard her hiss softly. “Oh, sorry,” he murmured, quickly removing his hands from a back which must have still been sore so soon after she had taken two bullets to it.

“Come in,” she said, waving a hand to dismiss his apology. “I tried to call you at work, but they said you had taken a leave of absence.” She closed the door and turned to face him, her expression concerned. “They said something about a family emergency?”

He nodded faintly. “Here, you should sit,” he suggested, taking her by the elbow and steering her towards the couch. “I... I took a leave of absence, yeah. But... I lied about having a family emergency.”

In fact, the truth of the matter was that the leave of absence had been insisted upon by Mel and Cole. He had not even been back to his home since Mel’s rescue. They were insistent: things were chaotic and dangerous right now, and Vic should stay securely outside the notice of Zin Industries until they had settled down.

Gabe frowned, sitting and staring up at him. “What have I missed?”

He sighed and dropped onto the couch next to her. “It’s complicated. How are you feeling? Are you in much pain?”

“Surprisingly little considering that the doctors have said that I shouldn’t even be alive right now. As to how I FEEL...” She shrugged.

Vic regarded her with concern, noticing for the first time that her sidearm was sitting on the end table within easy reach. “Still a little skittish?” he ventured.

“That’s one word for it.” She nodded faintly. “Two others were shot at almost the exact time I was. Gilmore with the CIA and Briggs with MI-5. I... they were good men.”

He sighed softly. He HAD known about the other shootings, of course, but Gabe’s reaction told him that there was more to the story. “How close were you?” he asked gently.

“Very.” She shook her head. “Some of the information I’ve been giving to you is... information I got from them.”

“Oh, God. Zin Industries can’t know that--” he started.

“That they were feeding me Intel? I seriously doubt it. But Briggs and Gilmore knew as much if not MORE than I did. Gilmore kept talking about Homeland Security and Briggs was forever on about terrorism. It was making me nervous; it’s the main reason I agreed to help you, Victor. Things have been escalating with these people and that’s bad for everyone. We needed more help cracking this thing, another good mind, a new set of contacts.” She sighed softly. “It’s as well that your role in all of this was always covert or you might be where Briggs and Gilmore are right now. God, it’s a miracle I’m not...”

“Gabe,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Maybe you--”

“One of the nurses told me that you stayed with me the whole time I was unconscious?” she interrupted, glancing up at him.

“Yeah.” He nodded faintly. “I was worried about you, Gabe. Besides, I blamed myself for dragging you into this whole thing in the first place.”

“It isn’t your fault. I was ALREADY in this by the time you came along,” she told him firmly. “These people were active overseas years before they came here.” Sighing softly, she added, “I’ve suggested to a few other people involved in investigating Zin Industries that it might be wise for them to be a little more circumspect about it. You might want to spread that word around the Chicago PD, too.”

He nodded faintly. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You planning to take a step back?” she asked, nodding. “Might be wise.”

“Actually, I was planning on asking YOU to take a step back, Gabe.”

“What?” she asked, frowning and shaking her head.

“These people tried to kill you,” he began.

“All the more reason to put every last one of them behind bars.”

”All the more reason to back down before they try to do it again!” he retorted. “These people are dangerous, Gabe, you know that. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill you in a heartbeat.”

“The only thing necessary for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing. I am NOT backing down.”

He sighed softly, shaking his head. He REALLY needed to cultivate a taste for less stubborn women. “Just be careful, Gabe. Please. I don’t want to lose you.”

Her expression softened. “It’s going to be okay, Victor,” she promised. “I’ll be careful.”

“Please do. You don’t have anything to prove.”

“I know I don’t. But I don’t like getting shot, either. I don’t like ANYTHING that these people are up to.”

“I’m with you on that one,” he agreed quietly.

“You need to try to keep yourself safe, too, though,” she added. “I sometimes get the distinct impression that you’re in this deeper than I am.”

“Well,” Vic shifted, slightly uneasy. “I wouldn’t go THAT far. I mean... I know a thing or two, but... you don’t exactly see anyone shooting at me for it,” he pointed out.

“Huh.” She frowned faintly at him. “You want to play it like that, then? Fair enough I guess since you’ve never steered me wrong in the past.” She shook her head. “I just would have thought that by now you could trust me.”

“Of course I trust you!” he protested.

“Then WHY the secrecy?” she rejoined, her frown deepening.

“For the same reason people like us ALWAYS have secrets. Sometimes it’s just safer that way, Gabe.”

“Safer for which one of us?”

“For you,” he answered without hesitation. “To keep YOU safe. I care about you, Gabe, I do.”

She regarded him searchingly for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Fair enough,” she repeated quietly, sidling closer to him on the couch. “It’s good to know you care,” she whispered, tilting her head to look up at him.

Vic hesitated, startled. “Gabe, I...”

“No pressure,” she murmured, starting to slide away.

He caught her arm, gently forestalling her. “I know that. You are an amazing, intelligent, BRAVE woman, Gabe. Beautiful, too.” Giving her a nervous smile, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, lightly and quickly, pulling away and letting her make the next move, giving her an out.

“It’s about time you noticed that about me,” she answered gravely, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him down for another kiss, this one in earnest.

END TEASER
ACT 1

Mark hit the mat with a grunt that turned into an approving laugh the minute he was able to regain breath. “You fight dirty,” he told Jess, grinning up at her.

“Yeah, so do THEY,” she answered bitterly, offering him her hand.

Mark’s smile faded as he accepted her help to his feet. “Jessica,” he began. “Are you okay?” It was, he knew, a stupid question under the circumstances, but he was honestly not sure what else TO say.

“I... I don’t know, Mark,” she sighed, shaking her head. “It’s like a bruise that doesn’t hurt until you prod at it, you know?”

He nodded faintly, steering her towards the bench. He sometimes felt that his entire life was nothing but a series of those mental bruises. But if his were starting to fade, Jess’ were new and doubly painful for it.

“Let’s take five,” he suggested.

“No, I’m fine. We should keep working.”

“One more run,” he agreed finally. He could sense that, while tired, she was determined to keep on.

Wise to her previous trick, he managed to avoid overbalancing in response to her initial feint. Counting on being able to use the momentum of his fall to balance herself, Jess tumbled to the mat, cursing. The curse dissolved into a yelp of pain as she hit the ground shoulder-first with a bone jarring pop.

“God,” Mark murmured, dropping to his knees next to her and gently probing at her shoulder.

“Ouch!” Jess protested, trying to pull away.

“No, here, ay-a. Just relax,” he advised gently, wrapping his hands around her shoulder. “It’s not even dislocated, Hwa’i,” he assured her.

“You sure?” she asked, closing her eyes and relaxing against his chest as he released healing warmth into her sore shoulder.

“You’re fine,” he promised. “Feel better?” he added, gently wrapping one arm around her.

Jess cautiously opened one eye and glanced up at him. He was talking to her in Cirronian and hugging her. Not new behaviors, but in PUBLIC? Until now, he had restricted his hugs and murmured reassurances to the privacy of her own bedroom, much-needed comfort over the death of her father. The rest of the time, he was every bit as restrained as Mel, and sometimes more so.

He glanced quizzically down at her when she did not answer. “Feel better?” he repeated.

“Yeah, thanks. It doesn’t hurt any more,” Jess assured him, straightening. Obviously wistful thinking had her imagining things that were not there with regards to her amazing friend.

“Here,” he said, helping her to her feet and nodding towards the bench. “We need to talk.”

“No. Let’s get back to work.”

“Sit,” he ordered more firmly, giving her a look that brooked no opposition.

She had been working herself relentlessly since her father’s death. Initially, he had allowed it since it had been helpful in dulling her pain. Now, though... He shook his head and dropped to the bench next to her.

“You’re going to exhaust yourself, Jessica,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you really believe that?” he challenged gently.

“No.” She shook her head, her shoulders slumping. “But I don’t know what else to do...”

He sighed and slid an arm around her shoulder. “You aren’t going to do yourself any good pushing like this. You’re making great progress, but you ARE going to hurt yourself if you keep this up.”

“I don’t want to slow down. I can’t.” She shook her head again. “I can’t. I need to be able to...” She trailed off helplessly.

“To what?” he asked gently. “Jessica, you can only ever do your best.”

“That’s not enough!” she shouted, wincing as heads turned in their direction. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Mark shook his head, rising. “Don’t be. Shout if it helps. Who cares what a pack of random gym patrons think? They don’t know you.”

“Doesn’t mean I should make a spectacle of myself in public.”

“Then we’ll go home. You can shout at me there,” he offered at his most reasonable.

“I don’t WANT to shout at you,” she protested, shaking her head.

“Good. Because I don’t particularly like getting shouted at by you,” he told her with a little shrug, extending his hand. “Come on. We’ll get you home. You can take a hot bath, relax a little, and afterwards we can talk.”

Jess sighed and shrugged in defeat, accepting his hand and letting him steer her from the gym.

***

Jess turned off the tap and tried to relax in the warm bubble bath. Her shoulders hurt more from tension than from the fall and she was weary with an aching fatigue that went far beyond the physical. She wanted to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she was hounded by images of her father hitting the pavement. She could even hear the sound of breaking bones...

She shook her head defiantly, wiping away a few tears. The scene returned to her every time she closed her eyes now and sometimes even when they remained opened. Mark had been right that she was working herself to the point of exhaustion. That was the plan. Maybe then she would not have to deal with the memory of her father being murdered as she looked on helpless.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she slid under the water, wetting her hair. The water closed around her like a warm cocoon, soothing away the tension in her muscles and blocking out the harsh, cruel outside world. Being so totally immersed and cut off was almost TOO comforting. Part of her wanted badly to stay there. Struggling to shake off that unsettling thought, she sat up again, wiping water out of her eyes and squeezing her wet hair.

She looked up at a soft rap on the door. “Yeah, Mark?” she called.

“I made some tea. Should I leave it out here or are you covered?”

Jess glanced quickly down at the bubbles pooling around her, sinking deeper into the water. “It’s okay. Come in.”

Mark pushed the door open and entered the room, carrying a mug. “How are you?” he asked, setting the mug on the lip of the deep tub and turning slightly away from her.

Jess smiled faintly. He was not particularly embarrassed by her nudity, but he had the delicacy not to look at her, either. Very Mark Porter. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing that he was just a tiny bit more like the average man she knew, a little more willing to take advantage. She shook that off immediately and picked up her tea.

“I’m better, Mark. Thanks.”

He shook his head faintly. “You don’t seem better. Something has you unsettled.”

“Nothing important. Just thinking.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” he offered.

“In the bath?” she asked, staring up at him.

“Oh, hell,” he whispered, flushing. “Right, sorry. I’ll be... in the living room if you need anything,” he promised, turning and fleeing the room.

Jess sighed and shook her head. Mark was as excitable as Mel in some ways and more so in others. She had not meant to embarrass him, but she knew that he would have been more embarrassed five minutes down the road to suddenly realize that he was having a heart to heart with a naked woman. In her current mental state, it was probably just as well anyway. No emotionally vulnerable naked heart to hearts with stunningly attractive and unusually interesting men. She glanced from the tea in her hands to the warm water surrounding her.

“Too damned inviting,” she sighed, climbing from the tub. Part of her mind wanted to know if she meant never leaving the bathtub or Mark. “Shut up, you,” she muttered, toweling herself dry and pulling on her clothes.

“That was a short bath,” Mark noted as she entered the living room.

“The water was getting cold.”

“Was it?” He frowned faintly. She was lying, and badly. Something had her rattled, though, so he did not press the issue. “I’ll check the heater tonight,” he promised. “Want to have that talk now?”

“I’d rather not.”

“I know, but we DO need to talk about this. You can’t keep pushing yourself.”

“Yeah, but I can’t stop moving just now, either.” She sighed and dropped onto the couch next to him. “Besides, it’s not just trying to ignore what happened. I need to be able to help you and Kate. Otherwise, what’s the point of me being a Guardian?”

“That you be ready when you are NEEDED,” he answered gently, shaking his head. “And you DO help us. You know that, Jessica.”

“Not as much as I could.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m out of my league here, Mark. I can’t do half of what you and Kate can...”

“That’s because YOU are not part Cirronian. You can’t hold yourself to that same standard,” he pointed out.

“Then what good am I to you? I can’t heal, I can’t open locks, I can’t use Hyperspeed...” Well, okay, so technically she COULD open locks, but it took a lot longer and she was not sure it was a fact she wanted Mark knowing about her.

“You have more value to us than you can imagine, Jessica,” he answered honestly. “You also have abilities all your own. The Teachings are clear on that. Guardians are not without their own defenses to fall back on. You have more power than you know.”

“Such as?”

“Have you noticed that you’re beating Kate and I on the mat more often than not these days? How many normal humans do you think could do that?”

“I... I don’t...” She shook her head. “I’m not that strong.”

“No, but you’re still a wicked fighter.” He shrugged. “And a damned fine marksman.”

“Don’t see what either of those has to do with anything.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he assured her, sensing her self-doubt. “You are something special whether you accept it or not. I’ve seen it. Kate and Mel have seen it. Cole has seen it.” He touched one hand to her heart. “Jessica, you SHINE...”

Jess frowned at his almost reverent tone of voice. She still could not see why Mark and the others kept insisting that she was something out of the ordinary. She was not. She was just Jess Brown, Jessie...

“If I’m so ‘special’, why couldn’t I save my father?” she asked quietly, scowling at him.

Mark closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Jessica.”

“I am NOT what you think I am, Mark,” she informed him flatly, rising. “I don’t know what that woman is, but she’s not me...”

“Stop hiding from yourself. Stop letting it scare you,” he urged, climbing to his feet. “Please.”

“I can’t, Mark. How can I face up to what doesn’t exist?” she whispered, turning and fleeing the apartment.

END ACT 1
ACT 2

The sound of chanting reached Mel’s ears well before she reached the top of the fire escape. Cole’s voice, strong and steady in spite of the fact that he had been chanting all night, lifted easily over the sounds of morning rush hour, as indifferent to the commuters as they were to him.

Cole had explained to her yesterday that he had never given his wife or daughter a proper Cirronian funeral ceremony, had not even attended those held by Nallia’s family. It had been his way of holding on to them, of refusing to accept their passing. Now that he had, it was time for him to hold a service of his own, coming to peace with himself and with them, with the truth that he would never have them in his life again.

It was a hopeful thing, he had assured her. The dead were never truly lost, even if one life, one way, had to be lived without them. Nallia the wife and Ashi the daughter would never be within the reach of Cole Hauser. But Ashta Nallia the beautiful and Ashta Ashi the sweet WOULD return: in different roles, with different bodies, but those two precious souls were not by any means lost to him. He had assured Mel of this with all the conviction of a man promising that the sun would rise on the morrow.

As she climbed to the roof, Cole continued chanting, never tearing his eyes from the twin candles burning before him on the ground. He would chant until they had burned themselves out, representing an end to the two lives they symbolized. Pale blue for Nallia and vibrant green for Ashi: the colors of love and new life. Two unlit white candles waited nearby to capture the last dying heat of the old flames, creating two new flames, symbolic of the new lives they had started on their deaths.

From her vantage, Mel wondered if Cole had timed things. The two burning candles flickered and started to die exactly as the sun appeared on the horizon. Lifting his voice from a mournful dirge to a joyous song, Cole quickly brushed the wicks of the two fresh candles against the smoking remains of the old. Both ignited immediately. Tears in his eyes, he firmly planted the two white candles in the smoking wax remains of the old ones, singing until the sun had fully crested the horizon.

“The night has been a long one,” he murmured. “But day always follows night in the natural course. May your paths ever be lighted by Hwa’an’s own radiance and, when they cross with the path of Cole Hauser, may it please you to call him a dear friend.”

Mel watched silently, tears in her eyes over her poet-warrior’s quiet eloquence and obviously love. Any woman who felt this man’s love, whether as his wife, daughter, or just a friend, was indeed blessed.

“Good morning, Mel,” Cole greeted her gently after several minutes spent staring thoughtfully at the two flames. “It will be a nice day,” he added, glancing at the sky.

“Yeah?” Mel asked, grinning at him. He seemed freer than he had been in ages and his smile was not as sad as usual. “You think so?”

“I know it will,” he assured her, climbing to his feet and approaching her. He glanced back at the candles once as he reached her, his expression wistful but not unhappy. “Your sun rises powerful and without hesitation or obstacle. I feel he came to guide their journey,” he added quietly.

Although it was odd to him, he knew that humans tended to view their sun as a masculine force and so he deferred to that belief. In the long run, it hardly mattered. He worshipped not a star but a spirit, and such things could not be bound by distance or quantified in mortal terms. Feminine to the Cirronians, it was not inconceivable that Hwa’an should be masculine to the humans. After all, the Enixians viewed her with an almost fearful awe that bore no resemblance to the Cirronian affection for her.

To each race its own, as it had always been. Differences in belief mattered little in the grander scheme. The light of the star Sol would guide Ashi and Nallia to Hwa’an’s door. Their fate was out of his hands now, if it had ever been there at all.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked him quietly after a few moments of silence.

He smiled faintly, nodding. “Better than I have been in a very long time, Mel.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled up at him. “I’ve been so worried about you...”

“You do not need to worry any longer,” he promised. “I have been acting in a way that no Cirronian should, denying that which is. It will not happen again.”

“I just want you to be happy,” she started.

“And I will be,” he assured her, lightly touching her forehead, gauging her strength.

She was still weakened from her ordeal with Lana, but recovering steadily. Her human physiology slowed the progress, but could not stop it. The gradual recovery was not the only change taking place within her either, and the other pleased him even more inordinately.

Her body was growing stronger with almost torturous slowness after her rescue from Lana, but her life-force was changing itself by leaps and bounds. Not stronger exactly but substantially different all the same, steadier at the very least, but mainly just different. Those differences would undeniably make it easier for her to use her innate abilities.

“Your training has suffered in the past few months,” he announced abruptly. “I have not been as attentive to your education as I should be. We have much lost time to make up for.”

Mel blinked at his abrupt shift. “Cole?”

“It’s okay, Mel,” he assured her, smiling. “I have been much too preoccupied to train you as I should lately. To keep you safe from Lana and the others, you must be trained.”

She hesitated, afraid he was simply avoiding his grief again, but she sensed nothing like that from him, simply eagerness to keep her safe. “Sounds good. I’ll make us some breakfast and we can talk.”

“That sounds good, Mel,” he agreed, nodding and starting down the fire escape.

“What about...” She paused, glancing at the candles.

“They must burn unattended by me now,” he explained simply. “As it always has been.”

“Okay,” she agreed, following him down the ladder.

***

Breakfast was made quickly enough by the two. Mel had made French toast and Cole had fried bacon and squeezed orange juice. It had been wonderful just standing in the kitchen with him in companionable silence as they cooked, reminiscent of mornings with her father and grandmother. Her job had always been cracking the eggs, she recalled with a smile. Mark would amuse his young daughter first by juggling them as Adelaide looked on with a combination of amusement and apprehension. He never had dropped one, though, not a single one.

As they carried the food to the kitchen table, she found herself wondering if Cole could juggle. Why not? He was still surprising her on an almost daily basis, after all. Raising the dead, healing, climbing walls, singing, emotional telepathy... How much of a stretch could juggling be?

“What are you smiling at?” Cole asked curiously as they sat down.

“Oh, nothing,” Mel assured him, waving a dismissive hand, mostly to dispel the mental image of Cole juggling her complete set of kitchen knives. “Thinking of the good old days, mostly.”

“Memories are meant to be sweet, not bitter,” he said with an understanding smile. “We must both learn to look at our pasts in a new way, I think.”

“You’re right,” she agreed.

“It is not remembering the past that is wrong,” he continued, picking up the syrup and pouring it over his toast. “It is mourning death instead of celebrating life.” He handed her the syrup, staring thoughtfully down at his plate for a long moment. “We can recognize that it is painful not to have what we once did or should have had but, above all, as Cirronians we must be happy for what we DO have. I have been so busy these past years dwelling on a life that could no longer be mine that I have looked through a thousand new blessings and the chance for another life entirely.” He shook his head faintly. “No more, though. The possibilities are almost frightening there are so many now before me but I am not afraid.”

“Not surprising,” she contributed quietly, wondering if his words were meant for her ears or if he was simply thinking aloud. “You aren’t an easy man to scare.”

The Cirronian smiled faintly, shaking his head. “You would be surprised, Mel. Everyone HAS fears, whether they show or not.”

“Yeah? And what scares the kind of guy who would follow hundreds of dangerous alien criminals through a wormhole to an unknown planet a hundred light years away? Twice...”

His smile grew. “I only followed a single fugitive once, Mel,” he pointed out honestly. “The second time, something else brought this stranger back to your strange land,” he reminded her.

“Oh!” she whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. “Right. I’d... forgotten.”

“There have been many other things to think about,” he agreed reassuringly. “Keeping you safe was more important. But as you become more able to keep yourself safe, we will be able to focus our attention less completely on the fugitives.”

”What then?” she asked quietly, not quite able to look at him.

“Then?” He smiled fondly. “THEN, Mel, we will begin again. The fugitives have kept us from having the life we want for too long already, but they will not forever.” Pushing aside his plate, he leaned across the table and tenderly caressed her throat.

She smiled and closed her eyes, leaning towards him. “Cole, I...”

”Soon, Mel,” he breathed when she faltered. “It will not be long,” he promised. “I can feel it.”

Her eyes shot open at the quiet assurance in his tone. “How?” she asked tremulously.

“Your life-force changes, your powers grow stronger and easier to use.”

You become more Cirronian, his mind added.

He smiled faintly at the questioning look in her eyes, as though she was not sure if he had spoken the last words aloud or not. That alone was compelling proof that her life-force was growing more fundamentally Cirronian. Though not a race of telepaths, it was more than within their ken to grasp the kind of strong emotions that were often interchangeable for actual thoughts.

“It grows,” he murmured, dropping his hand.

Her Cirronian essence, his feelings for her... A dangerous combination. In such a charged emotional atmosphere, withdraw was the only option until he was entirely sure of her own feelings towards him. Powerful adult Cirronian emotion could act like a riptide to the young or inexperienced, and Mel was both. It was not impossible that he might inadvertently influence her while she was so receptive to his emotional currents and such a thing could not be allowed to happen. Waiting was better for both of them, for MANY reasons.

She frowned faintly, more than a little frustrated by one more retreat from him the instant things started to grow heated. “You said it won’t be long?” she asked quietly, struggling to master her disappointment and hurt. “HOW long?”

He sighed softly at her obvious emotions, but they were encouraging all the same. “Not long,” he promised. “Please trust me, Mel. I have made you wait for a very long time now, but not without reason. When the time is right, I will no longer back away from you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he promised. “These are matters your training should have touched upon some time ago. With your permission, we may start on them now.”

Her frown deepened, more confused than anything. “How is our relationship related to my training?”

“All emotions are related to the learning and use of Cirronian abilities. We are an emotional race and, over many years, we have learned to use that to our advantage. Our emotions are strong, and that can make us strong.” He sipped at his orange juice before continuing. “YOUR emotions are strong, stronger than those of most Cirronians I have known. If you can learn to control their expression, these strong emotions can be your advantage over the fugitives. Your powers can become greater than they could possibly imagine.”

END ACT 2
ACT 3

Jess sat alone in the dark bedroom, listening to the sounds of night. Cars going by, hushed conversation from the next apartment, playful laughter in the streets below, sirens in the distance, a pair of cats yowling in the side alley...

Groups of others, always GROUPS. And Jessie all alone in her room, feeling infinitely separate from everyone around her, alienated, useless. The best thing for everyone would be for her to leave, she decided. Quickly and quietly and with a minimum of pain and fuss. The Porters could get on with the business of saving the world and she could start fresh somewhere else.

You said you were through running away, a voice in her head informed her. After Adelaide, you SWORE it.

“Yeah, well, it was a stupid promise,” she whispered, picking a pillow up from the bed and hugging it to her chest.

It was the first time she had been in her bedroom since running away, and her father had not changed a thing. Except that the sheets were crisp and fresh and the room well-aired. Like he had been keeping it for her, waiting for her to come back to him.

On top of everything else that had happened in the last few days, that was the final emotional straw. Burying her face in the pillow, she cried herself into a fitful sleep.

A gentle voice pulled her from her nightmares. “Well, I guess it IS always the last place you look.”

It was not the voice she had expected, not Mark’s voice, but she did not care. She could not even face Kate right now, so she kept her face pressed into the pillow and lay still.

“I know you’re awake, Jess,” Kate said quietly, resting one hand lightly on her back. “Dad’s beside himself with worry, you know.”

“Tough shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Like hell I don’t!” Jess snapped, sitting up and glaring at the younger woman. “This is his fault!”

“Is it?” Kate asked, raising an eyebrow. “And here I thought HE put too much on himself. How are the actions of an alien hoodlum his fault, Jess?”

“I didn’t say that.” Jess shook her head, annoyed that Kate was staying reasonable when she herself could not. “But he’s the reason I got in touch with Dad at all. He’s the reason I’m a Guardian--”

Kate shook her head. “Unless there’s another Porter daughter he never bothered to tell Mel or I about, you can’t blame him for that one,” she said softly.

“I never would have known, though!” she shouted, jumping to her feet.

“Probably not,” Kate agreed, nodding. “But me, I’d rather know than have all these confusing happenings around me without knowing WHY.”

“Stop it!” Jess snapped. “Stop rationalizing everything!”

“I’m not trying to rationalize ANYTHING, Jess,” Kate assured her. “Because none of this is very rational, is it? We’ve both been swept away by events here. The best we can do is hang on and keep our heads above the water.”

Jess shivered at that analogy, remembering how inviting the warm water of the bathtub had seemed earlier. It would have been so much easier than going on like this, certainly. Yet...

“Jess, let Dad and I help you,” Kate whispered, rising and standing in front of her. “You could do worse for life preservers than two people who love you as much as we do.”

She nodded weakly and wrapped her arms around Kate, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, she whispered, burying her face in the girl’s shoulder. “I just... it’s so hard.”

“And it hurts,” Kate agreed, steering her back towards the bed. “We want this to be as easy on you as possible, Jess. Dad says maybe it would be easier if you could move back to Chicago. He says maybe Mel and Cole could help more...”

“I don’t want to leave you two, luv,” she protested quietly, still clinging to her friend.

“And we don’t want you to leave either. But we DO want what’s best for you... If that’s in Chicago instead of here, we understand that.”

“I don’t want to go.” Jess shook her head. “I may love Mel and Cole, but I love you and Mark, too. It’s... different.”

“Sit, Jess,” Kate murmured.

Jess shook her head, tightening her hold on Kate.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kate assured her. “Come on. We’ll just sit here together,” she promised, sitting with Jess and never loosening the hug.

“Thanks,” Jess sighed, closing her eyes and leaning into Kate. “I’m sorry. I just feel so...”

“Lonely. Sure you do,” Kate agreed quietly. “Oh, I know the feeling, Jess, I do. And I know why you’re so angry. But... you need to be angry at the right people, too. I know it’s easier to lash out at the people who are closer to you, but it’s not right and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize to ME. Dad’s a right mess. He was afraid we’d lost you.”

“You nearly did. I was going to run away.”

“You wouldn’t have made it,” Kate told her quietly. “You’re one of us now. You can’t escape this any more than we can. This is where you belong, Jess, here with us.”

“Not the most comforting thing you’ve ever said to me...” she muttered.

“No, I suppose not,” Kate agreed. “We don’t much like it, either. But it IS easier knowing you aren’t alone. We have you and you have us. We love you, Jess. I don’t know if that’s much comfort, but it’s the truth...”

Jess smiled weakly at Kate. It WAS reassuring to know that she was loved. “I love you, too.”

“You ready to come home?” Kate asked hopefully.

Jess shook her head. “Not now, Kate. I’m sorry. I can’t face him right now.”

“He’s not mad, you know,” she told her gently. “Just worried.”

Jess shook her head. “Not right now. Not how I’ve been acting...”

“Okay, Jess,” Kate sighed, nodding. “We understand, though. We do. You tired? Want to get some rest?”

“I... I can’t sleep.” She shook her head again. “Every time I sleep, I have those damned dreams.”

“Oh, Jess,” Kate whispered, wrapping her arms around her again.

“It’s horrible. I see it, I hear it... I can’t move, I can’t help...”

“God, no wonder you’ve been so out of sorts if that’s all you can dream about any more.”

“I hate him,” Jess whispered abruptly. “I want him dead. I want to kill him...”

“Greg?”

“Who else? I tried to protect him and I couldn’t. He moved too fast.” She shook her head. “What’s the good of all this training if it comes right down to it and we can’t even protect our own FAMILIES?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” Kate whispered, troubled by her words.

It was a valid point. Mark trained them and trained them, but he refused to let them fight or pursue fugitives, kept them sequestered away, guarded them, and persisted that they were not ready. If anything, he was more overprotective now that he had started combat-training them than he had been before. He continued to insist that they needed more time, more training.

“He just wants what’s best for us,” she told Jess finally.

“Tell him I’m sorry, will you?” Jess asked.

“You could tell him yourself?”

“Not yet. Not right now.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Kate.”

“Get some rest,” Kate suggested. “I should call him, let him know he can stop looking for you.”

“Has he taught you that Cirronian trick yet? The one where you can keep a person from dreaming?” Jess asked hopefully. “He won’t do it for me very often any more...”

“He says dream deprivation is more dangerous in its way than sleep deprivation can be. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt this once,” Kate added, not liking the haunted set to her friend’s expression. “I can try.”

“Thank you,” Jess whispered, kissing her cheek.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Jess,” Kate murmured as her friend stretched out. She bent and touched her lips to Jess’ forehead. “Sleep sweet, luv.”

Closing her eyes, she passed her hand in front of Jess’ face, concentrating on releasing energy as Mark had taught her. He had shown the trick to her for combat purposes, but the principle was the same as the one applied for inducing dreamless sleep in a friend and Jess was soon deeply asleep.

Kate sighed and stared down at her friend for a long moment, tears in her eyes over Jess’ obvious and infectious pain. Shaking her head, she tucked her in and then rose, pulling out her cell-phone and walking into the living room.

Mark answered his phone immediately. “Jess?”

“No, Dads, but she’s here with me.”

“Oh, thank God, Kitten. Where are you?”

“Her dad’s apartment. Can you come over?”

“Of course. How is she?”

“Sleeping now. Very upset.”

There was a deep sigh over the line. “Okay, Kitten. Thank you. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kate answered, shaking her head and looking around the dark apartment as she hung up.

She wondered why, of all the places she could have gone, favored haunts new and old, Jess had been drawn back HERE, to where her pain must necessarily have been the greatest.

Jess WAS in an enormous amount of pain, too. Kate had felt it keenly as if it had been her own, a knife on raw nerves. And Jess clung to that pain as the only emotion she COULD feel right now. Sighing, Kate dropped on to the couch to await her father.

END ACT 3
ACT 4

“Using your powers is about learning how to channel your emotions,” Cole explained to Mel as they sat together on the roof. “Cirronians are beings of awareness first. We have physical form as all creatures must, but we are different from others in this. With work, we may release our minds from the bonds created by our bodies. This is the foundation of all of our powers.”

Mel shook her head. “I’m sorry, Cole, but I don’t understand.”

“It is a hard thing TO understand if you have not grown up exposed to it,” he agreed. “Even if you have, the mechanics can be difficult to grasp. This is why not all Cirronians are equally adapt at using their innate abilities. It is best to learn by doing. Understanding can follow. But you have already started. When you open locks, how are you doing that?”

“I... I don’t know. I just... I use my energy and I...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Mel,” he assured her. “You may not understand, but it does not stop you from being able to do it. It is as instinctive as breathing now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” She nodded.

He smiled warmly at her, nodding. “I think it was easier for you to learn because I did not explain it to you as it was explained to me. Would you have been able to accomplish it if I had told you that it was necessary to reach outside of your body and move something that your hands could not reach?”

Mel stared at him with wide eyes, shaking her head slowly.

“Yet that is what you do every time you open a lock with your powers,” he told her. “You reach beyond your physical boundaries to manipulate something you can not reach.”

“But that’s telekinesis. I thought only Vardians...” she began.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, Mel. There ARE some similarities between Cirronian manipulation of matter and Vardian telekinetic control of it, but the process is very different. Vardians seek to control what Cirronians find oneness with. No Cirronian could learn as a Vardian is taught, even if their brains were constructed similarly, which they are not.”

“Oh.”

“We bear similarities to all of the species, but each species is truly unique from each other. Even if an effect is the same, the cause is likely very different.” He smiled and shook his head. “It is not important right now, Mel, unless you have questions about it that trouble you.”

“No. I was just curious...”

He grinned and nodded. “Curiosity is a very good thing, Mel. It is how we learn. We can discuss anything you have questions about as I train you. I will enjoy being a teacher again,” he added with a fond smile.

“Looks like you’ve come pretty much full circle,” Mel noted. “Teacher, Tracker, Teacher teaching Tracker...”

“Yes, Mel,” he agreed. “It will be nice. I have always enjoyed sharing the journey of discovery with young minds. I think I will enjoy sharing it with your mind more.”

“Really?” she asked, smiling curiously up at him. “Why?”

“Because you are an adult and look at the world differently than a child might. And because I care about you very much,” he added softly. “I like to see you smile as you understand, and laugh when you accomplish something you did not think you could. It makes me happy to experience that joy with you.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” she whispered.

“We are each of us unique,” he agreed, his expression tender. “And YOU are the most unique person I have ever met.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said, shaking her head.

“It is true. You are different from other Cirronians because you are human and different from other humans because you are Cirronian. There is much within you that has never existed within any other. And so much potential...”

“I wish I could see in myself what you see in me, Cole...”

“You will,” he promised. “I will show you. You will see.”

She smiled and shook her head at his obvious assurance. “Well, if anyone CAN show me, it’d be you,” she answered honestly.

He grinned, nodding. “I will. You will see,” he repeated.

***

Mel was surprised and a little disappointed when her first ‘lesson’ was nothing more than a review of what she had already learned. But, trusting to Cole’s skills as a teacher, she did not argue.

“Very good, Mel,” he murmured as she sat in the war-room and opened the series of locks he had set before her. “You grow very skilled. Can you feel the difference between this and your other abilities?”

She nodded faintly, not opening her eyes. She could not have articulated exactly what was different about using that ability over the others, but there WAS a difference and she could feel it. That was what counted, ALL that counted right now. The rest would come with time and patience.

“It’s important to be able to feel these differences,” Cole continued. “As you progress to the use of more difficult abilities, these differences will grow more important, but also more difficult to distinguish.”

“I understand,” she answered, frowning as she reached the last lock in the sequence.

That was always the hard one, one that even most Cirronians would have had difficulty with, Cole had told her. It was an electrical lock and she had to interrupt one current to open it without interrupting the one that told the lock that it was not being tampered with: two actions in one, really.

“Gotcha!” she announced triumphantly as she heard the lock give an almost inaudible ‘click’. She smiled and opened her eyes, looking down at the green light. “That last one felt different, too,” she said, looking curiously up at Cole.

The Cirronian smiled his approval, nodding. “You are correct, Mel. To open the others, no matter how complex they were, you had only to manipulate matter. For this last one, energy was being manipulated. Matter and energy are different, but also the same. Many Cirronians have difficulty distinguishing the difference on this level.”

“Really?” she asked, flush with pleasure at her twin successes.

“Yes, Mel. As your training progresses, you become more attuned to such minor differences. Perhaps it is easier for you because you are both human and Cirronian, but you make great functional progress even without any theoretical training.” He smiled warmly down at her. “It is VERY well done.”

She smiled back at him, more than a little flattered by his praise and definitely pleased that she had exceeded his expectations on this count.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“There are many things still to be learned,” he told her. “First, each time you use one of your abilities, I wish you to concentrate on how it feels to call up and use the energy involved. If you can develop an intimate knowledge of each energy, it will make the act itself almost instinctive for you.”

“Wow.”

He grinned and nodded at her assessment. “You have already accomplished far more than I could have thought possible a year ago,” he informed her. “Now, your progress compels me to hope for even more from you.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” she said, startled by his obvious admiration.

She was used to her mentor being almost entirely impassive during her lessons, and she had long suspected that she was not entirely living up to his expectations for her. Listening to him now, though, made it clear that she WAS living up to his expectations, exceeding them, even.

“You could never disappoint me,” he assured her honestly. “How could you when you try so hard and always put up with all of my flaws and deficiencies?”

She smiled and bowed her head, not answering. If COLE had ‘flaws and deficiencies’, she wondered what that said about her. The Cirronian forced her chin up and began stroking her throat tenderly, his expression adoring.

“So... what else are you going to teach me?” she asked after a long moment in which the only sound to be heard was the buzzing of the war-room equipment and their breathing.

“Many things, with your permission,” he answered. “Once you are better at understanding your abilities, you will be able to use them with more ease and efficiency. I would like to drill you on Hyperspeed at least. It is important that there not be any doubts about your ability to open a Hyperspeed window.”

She nodded. She was fairly good at maintaining Hyperspeed, but she could not always open it on demand the way Cole could. That was definitely something to work on, making it less of a panic reflex and more of a conscious action.

“And I would like to teach you to climb as I can,” he added. “And to use your energy in combat. There are many things you can learn. It would be my pleasure to teach them all to you.”

Mel smiled at Cole, his expression hesitant as he waited for her answer. A girl could certainly do worse for a teacher than the calm, intelligent, gentle Cirronian.

As close as they had grown during their first year together, it seemed to Mel as if the news of her heritage, and Cole’s subsequent training of her, had only drawn them closer. So to continue under his tuition was appealing for reasons beyond what she stood to learn from him. Yes, she was learning more about Cirronians and, therefore, herself. The chance to intensify their relationship was an added bonus, no matter WHAT direction that eventually took them.

“Cole,” she murmured, taking his hands in hers and smiling up at him. “I’ve loved learning from you so far and I know I always will. It would be my honor to learn anything that you have to teach me.”

END ACT 4
TAG

“How is she?” Mark asked, entering the apartment.

“Resting now,” Kate told him, rising. “I put her to sleep. She’s been having such awful dreams lately...”

“The nightmares,” he agreed, nodding. “I know. She... doesn’t like sleeping alone any more, says the nightmares aren’t as bad when someone else is there.”

She nodded faintly. It had hardly been lost on her that her father was spending most nights in Jess’ room these days. She knew that, under normal circumstances, Mark probably would have enjoyed the chance; his attraction to Jess was obvious enough to his perceptive daughter. As it was, though, Mark felt nothing but pain over everything Jess had lost in recent weeks and what should have been pleasure was nothing but torment.

“What are we going to do?” Kate asked softly.

“I don’t know yet,” Mark sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll keep her safe, we’ll be there for her... It’s not much but, right now, I don’t know what else TO do.”

“It’s something,” she assured him. “She NEEDS us. If we’re there for her and keep her safe, that will help her, I’m sure.”

Mark sighed again, nodding weakly. “Kitten, you are a wise woman. I just wish...” He trailed off.

“I know, Dads,” Kate murmured. “Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel?”

“NOW?” he asked, shaking his head again. “No, Kate, I can’t. She’s got enough problems already without me giving her one more. God, especially at a time like this. She needs Mark Porter to be a FRIEND right now, nothing else.”

“And you have been a damned good friend to her,” she agreed, smiling reassuringly up at him. “The time won’t always be wrong, Dads.”

“You have more insight than you’ve any right to at your age,” he informed her gently. “You should still be mooning over the Captain of the rugby team, not counseling your poor, confused father about the convolutions of his love-life...”

“I’ve never gone in much for athletic men.” She shrugged helplessly. “I think I’m one of those people meant to be happily single forever and ever...”

“That’s what Mel used to say, too,” Mark told her, grinning. “But there IS someone for everyone out there. The hard part is just finding them.”

“I don’t know about that.” Kate shook her head. “I’m just so much more comfortable around my girlfriends than I am around guys...”

“That’s because you can sense people’s motives, Kate.” Grinning, he added, “And, where lovely young women are concerned, men your age are NOT to be trusted. Unless they’re gay.”

Kate chuckled at the amendment, shaking her head. “Maybe what I really need is a nice Cirronian bloke. Jess and Mel seem to get on just famously with theirs.”

“More power to you if you can find one, Kitten,” Mark told her, ignoring her mention of Jess. “You could definitely do worse than a man who adores you as much as Cole does Mel. Too bad they don’t grow them like that locally.”

She grinned, but her smile quickly faded. “What are we going to do about Jess?” she asked again.

He sighed and dropped onto the couch, his expression reflective. “We’re going to take her home,” he decided finally. “She’ll sleep through the trip, so we don’t have to worry about disturbing her rest.”

“What then?” Kate asked, glancing towards the bedroom. “She’s in so much pain, Dad, and she’s scared and confused and...”

“I know,” he whispered, nodding. “I’ve been where she is, but I still don’t know what to do for her.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Kate promised. “You aren’t in this alone any more than I am. I’m here for you like you are for me. Together, we’ll figure this out. We’ll help her. We have to; we love her...”

Mark stared thoughtfully down at his daughter for a long moment, his expression faintly surprised. “We do love her, don’t we?” he asked quietly, nodding. “I’m sorry.” Sighing, he gently caressed her throat for a long moment. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s bring Jessica home.”

***

“Kate?” Jess called quietly, sitting up and glancing around the dark room.

“She’s in bed,” Mark’s voice reached her. “Shall I get her? She said to wake her if you needed anything.”

“No, not if she’s asleep,” Jess murmured, shaking her head. “What are you doing here? Did she call you?”

“She did. We brought you home,” he added.

“Oh.”

She reached down and ran one hand over the blanket covering her, orienting herself in the darkness. She was in her room over the Flames, of course. Mark and Kate would have wanted her there, where they could keep an eye on her. They would probably not let her out of their sight again for a month after the way she had acted.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” she added quietly. It was easier to say in the dark, where she did not have to look into those amazingly tender and infinitely understanding eyes of his. “I’ve been acting like a spoiled child.”

“Scared, not spoiled,” he murmured, his breath brushing her cheek.

Jess jumped, startled, and stared up at him with wide eyes. Even in the inky blackness of the bedroom, she could make out his shape, sitting on the edge of the bed. She had assumed he was sitting on the other side of the room.

“Mark, I...”

“This must be so much for you to absorb,” he continued. “I don’t see how you could be anything BUT confused and afraid, especially after what happened to Richard.”

She nodded in the darkness, sighing softly. “I should have helped him...”

“You TRIED,” he soothed, gathering her into his arms. “The fugitive was stronger and faster. That isn’t your fault, Jessica.”

“YOU could have helped him,” she whispered, not trying to pull away, but not relaxing into his embrace either. She was not sure if she wanted his comfort, less sure if she deserved it.

“Maybe,” Mark agreed quietly. “Or maybe not. I couldn’t save my own father, you know,” he pointed out. “God knows I tried, but I couldn’t...”

“I hate this life,” she whispered.

“Me, too, Jessica. Everything about it. Especially having to draw you and Kate into it, too. You’re both too young for this, too alive.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to suffer for mistakes made millions of years before you were born.”

“None of us should. But we all ARE. I guess there’s no way around that fact. At least we have each other.”

“That is something,” he agreed quietly. “I’m not sure WHAT, but it is something.”

Jess sighed softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his heart. The strong, steady beat lulled her and his warmth soothed away much of her pain and guilt.

“I know EXACTLY what it is, Mark,” she murmured. “It’s the only damned thing left to keep any of us sane any more...”

END

RavenKat

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