certified insanity // henry creel x reader

TEAM

I've always liked the name Jane. 

Call it plane, or stereotypical. But to be called something that is only four letters long, two vowels, with a letter that has a swoop at the beginning seems only unfair to the rest of us. Jane rhymes with so many things. Mane. Cane. Lane. Ascertain. 

My mother's sister loved the name Jane as well. My mother talked about this fact a lot. I do not recall her name, because she disappeared shortly after I was born. I could not even call her my aunt. 

A mysterious figure who floats in the back of my head. 

A woman with fair hair—who liked the name Jane. Mother never liked her very much, and perhaps this is why she disappeared. Because the people my Mother dislikes always seem to disappear. 

I wrap myself in the sheets, hair slightly tangled from the bed. My collarbones jut out slightly over the top of the white blanket—lack of nutrition I suppose. My head reels; more aggressively than ever. 

The feeling as if I am flying still lingers. 

As Peter turns to leave, I take hold of his hand. And see the tattoo. It is written perfectly. Brenner's work. The exact same as mine, except is says 001. 

I am not nearly surprised as I thought I would be. "You're number one." 

Peter slows, turning to face me. "Yes." He says this as if it was obvious. "And you're number twelve."

I shake my head. "Henry Creel. Peter Ballard. Number One." I wrap the sheet tighter around my torso. "What do I call you?" 

"Mine." A smirk edges across Peter's face. He lets go of my hand, tipping his head to study me under his intense gaze. "Forgive me for the cliche, if you will." His drawl drags on the innards of my ears, poking at my eardrums. 

"Oh I don't see how I could," I hum. "What other secrets are you hiding, Henry?" 

He presses a finger to his lips, backing away towards the door. 

"That is for you to find out, my love." 

He has to be so fucking mysterious all the time, does he not? 

Testing begins early the next morning.  

"We are to do an exercise with partners today," Brenner says, his voice a low insistence. Perhaps something has been bothering him, but he looks irked. "Twelve. Two. Come to the centre as you may demonstrate." 

I glance at Two, the memory of the note he left me still hung in my mind. He knew my name. But he couldn't possibly be him. 

"Join hands." Brenner says firmly. 

I lift my right hand towards his left. As he turns his wrist, I see it. The birthmark. Quinn's birthmark on the underside of his left wrist. He is Quinn. It is so small, so faded, but I would recognize it anywhere. 

"It's you." The two words slip out under my breath. "Quinn." 

Two's gaze flicks to mine, and I am shocked to see that there is no aggression on his face. Simple acknowledgment instead of hostility. His eyebrows are neutral and his eyes are accepting. Acceptance. Of the fact that he is my brother and I have not seen him since I was six. 

Brenner, unbeknownst to this exchange, places the wires on Quinn's head, while Peter does mine. They interlock with each other, more complicated than the other ones used in previous testing experiences. 

"Teamwork," Brenner explains flatly, using a remote control to activate some kind of machine. 

Figures appear on one side of the room. They are armed with guns and several other weapons. "Teamwork makes the dream work. Isn't that what they say?" 

And then I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but I don't. 

Because my brother is standing next to me. 

"Yes Papa." 

"Good," Brenner dips his head low. "This is what you all lack. None of you have ever truly worked together. Fight together. Win together. The victory is yours to take," he points the remote again. A red button this time. 

The soldiers advance on us, firing bullets that sting my skin. They are not real bullets, but they leave a shock. 

"Time is ticking," Brenner warns. "Work together." 

I glance at Two, who stays on my right. He aims his powers at the soldiers, throwing them backwards. But his hand stays joined in mine. I close my eyes, focusing on his emotion as he keeps the soldiers at bay. 

A tingling sensation starts in the fingertips of my hand, like the ultimate power that is waiting to explode. Two gasps, as he feels the same thing. He inhales sharply, standing up taller. 

A light emits from our palms, and then, none of the bullets are hitting us anymore. In fact, everyone shields their eyes from the glowing light. I focus in on him, his brief happiness, the relief. Perhaps stronger emotions than sadness and despair. And I send them flying at the fake soldiers. 

Explosions ring out in the room as the light reaches its peak and then falls. 

When the dust clears, there is a large hole in the wall. 

Brenner stands further back, and this is possibly the only time I've ever seen him look shocked. He scribbles down several notes on his clipboard, before looking back up at us with a grim expression. 

"You two make quite the team, don't you?" 

_ 

So many things happened in this chapter. 

Thoughts? 

✏️ next update: Friday