Powersurge

A Change of heart

     The air seemed to still as the follower stepped into the hallway. Ashton stopped pretend-struggling and looked up. The follower had disposed of his black cloak and now stood in a crisp white uniform that allowed Ashton to see his face. He would be fairly handsome, she decided, if the hard look left his eyes. This way, he looked more angry than anything else.

"Get up." he commanded. He seemed to be more in control of his anger now, which was a very, very bad thing, Ashton reasoned. If he could control his anger, then he was more strong-willed than Ashton had first anticipated.

Nicole managed to move quickly, and was on her feet in the space of four seconds. Ashton didn't have enough oxygen to get up quickly. She tried, but her head throbbed where the police officer had hit her. She groaned and slumped back to the floor until her vision cleared and she didn't feel like vomiting.

"Unnnuhhhhhhbuhuh." she moaned, leaning against one of the uniform gray walls. The follower glared at her. She didn't care.

"Stop your groaning! If you want to see your group, you'd better behave!" the follower threatened. "I have the power to either preserve or destroy them. One more thing that I don't like from you, and you'll never hear from them again, you street scum!"

Ashton had looked fairly calm, if a bit nauseous, before this naked threat. Now, her skin was as ashen as her eyes. Her dizziness returned, along with a sudden irresistible gag reflex. She regurgitated the small amounts of prison food that had stayed in her stomach. The vomit looked more appealing than the excuse for food in the "correctional facility" she had been in. She rejected that thought from her mind.

"What about that?" She asked drunkenly, "Do you like that?"

"Oh my goodness," the follower groaned, pinching his nose. "This wasn't even about her wow what was boss thinking this is never going to work." He realized with a start that Ashton was still there. "Forget what I said, I'm going mad..." His voice trailed off and for a moment he didn't look angry, just very, very tired. He massaged his temples. "I've got to take you to my superiors."

Ashton could safely say that she looked more tired than him. "Why?"

He studied her briefly. She looked exactly like...he shook the thought from his mind. "Of course, we'll need to fix you up. Do you know how to read?"

Ashton found herself offended by the question. "Of course I do."

He looked at her, amused by her reaction. "You would be surprised at how many don't." He studied her briefly. "New clothes, of course. A haircut,"

Ashton instinctively raised a hand to her scalp. "What's wrong with my hair?"

The follower allowed himself a brief but genuine laugh. "Nothing. It just looks like you haven't brushed it in a year."

"Two years, actually." Ashton said automatically.

"Oh my goodness gracious." The follower grinned. "Where do we start?" He glanced at Ashton's pondering expression. "It was a rhetorical question."

"No, I wasn't wondering about how to fix myself up." she said distantly, but with a touch of amusement in her voice. Her slate irises suddenly focused, and with a start the follower realized that she was now looking at him almost pleadingly. "When will I get to see them again?" The follower realized she was talking about the boys.

He softened. He quickly felt a strange feeling in his chest, one that might have been almost paternal. It may have been because of the resemblance, or simply the follower's humanity. "Whenever you want." He could find no reason not to let her. It would be too difficult to escape with so many.

Her ashen eyes widened. "You mean I can see them right now?" The follower wasn't quite heartless enough to tell her no. She could've hugged him but she wasn't much the hugging type. She swallowed hard, and her true emotions began to display themselves in the form of tears. Embarrased, she hid her face in her dirty, ragged sleeve. All was still and silent but the sounds of one lonely girl crying softly in gratitude.

The follower watched her awkwardly. He didn't know what to do in this situation. It had been so long since he had seen someone cry, and Ashton was the last person he expected to be crying. He chewed his lip. "Nicole?" he said softly, so as not to disturb Ashton.

"Yes?"

"Please assist this girl to her room and get her ready."

"Of course." She blushed slightly and escorted Ashton from the room.

"You know..." the follower whispered to himself, chewing his lip. "...she really does look like her..."

No one heard him.