Multi-Fandom One Shots

Quiet (Farah Dowling)

The air was silent. It drowned you. You were alone. For once.

You knew what was expected of you. Sit in the greenhouse. Wait for them. You knew they had questions. You knew wanted to know how exposed they were. It was purely reactionary. They weren't violent. Not towards kids.

You heard the door click. You knew you were to turn, respond, obey.

But the air was still so quiet. And they were right there. And.. still... nothing.

They said nothing. You surely looked a mess. Zoned out. Learning the corners of your brain. The depth of your intelligence at your fingertips. Nothing being taken up by your magic.

No voices.

"It's quiet," is all you say. For now. They still have questions. You can't have this, not yet. Can you have it at all?

You're so alone.

"It's.." Your brain brings your cheeks back at the pure relief. They fall again at the echoes of your skull. "..never been... so quiet. Not even..." You shook your head. You can't breathe. Why not? It's suffocating, all you could possibly think about without thinking about other people's thoughts. All of them, minor, daydreams, childish wishes, heart crushing emotions, Musa's boyfriend worries. But all you could think about was how alone you were.

"How does it feel?" Ms. Dowling asked. You wondered if she got thoughts. Was she even a mind fairy? Was learned Mind Magic so involved? Could non-mind fairies understand?

Wow, big brain you rambled. Eventually, the thought of her understanding or even not brought the emotional so alone feeling back. "Like I might cry," you admit coldly, holding out your wrist. The metal band wrapped around your wrist was uncovered by your long sleeve. "Please take it off."

Ms. Dowling paused. She didn't know how powerful you were or if you were violent when caught.

"Please," came naturally when the relief was overcome by the emptiness.

Her hands were warm on the cold skin between metal wiring. A little pull from her, versus your many yanks in the Humvee, unraveled the Limiter.

Your sigh of physical relief slipped out without your consent as you pulled your bloody wrist from the wiring. Voices immediately filled your mind. Your eyes shut as you took the sheer weight of it back on. You let out a shaky breath, rubbing the still cold skin of your wrist. You bumped punctures as you did and flinched accordingly.

Someone moved closer to you.

Bleeding heart, came from Silva.

You pulled your arm away, eyes open and narrow at you Botany professor. "You have questions," you concluded.

"We do," Dowling answered, gaining your attention.

You looked at her for the first time since they entered and a bit more of your brain power was taken up by the image of her. The emotions and hormonal triggers her visage set of in your mind was deeply distracting. And she smelt heavenly. You really didn't need to think that, but you did. Every time she passed you in class, you were melting on the inside. You weren't sure why, but it was really, very distracting. You hadn't even reached the curve of her face. You weren't sure how her age made her all the more attractive to you, but you weren't so naive as to think it didn't. Her perfect hair, so elusive and deceptively hidden, drew your attention with every beautiful configuration. Her eyes and all the area around it was very nice. You weren't sure how, but it was all.. so... lovely. Her nose fit her perfectly and, you didn't even want to get started on her lips. Not even your favorite feature on her, many of your own daydreams were taken up by imagining those lips.

So, you see, Headmistress Dowling was very distracting. And you didn't really mind spilling the beans. You weren't a poor judge of character. Telling her would be better than obeying Andreas. So you spilled. You figured if you were with her, you weren't daydreaming and wasting brain power. Right.

*

You and Headmistress Dowling walked along the halls back to your Suite. "So, I'm sorry to say I have to add to your responsibilities," you hated to admit.

She looked at you sideways. You'd gotten as much as you could for a night and you knew you'd made some headway with her. She wasn't comfortable that you knew what was behind her bookcase, but you'd more than expressed your discomfort around those more powerful. You didn't need anyone else distracting in your life. You had more than enough, thank you! You weren't even sure you minded the distraction Dowling brought. You wished you had the courage to call her Farah. Even in your own head.

Oh... well.

"You're official the only one of Rosalind's Four that I like and therefore all who I'll work with." Young, inexperienced, less than powerful you were, you knew how to handle people. Enemies. You might be a spy by Bloom's standards. But in any case, you weren't naive.

Farah grimaced at the mention of what she, Ben, Saul, and Andreas had been called when Rosalind ruled. You'd more than proved you were legitimate, no need to poke.

"It's probably just because you're the only woman and I'm a lesbian," you commented evenly. You knew what the distraction meant. Attraction. Put it out there, toe the water. How receptive is she?

She didn't say anything. That wasn't a rejection.

You smirked at the way in.

Farah was definitely a worthy distraction. And you were stubborn.