The Anchor [Brallon-ish]

10

I find myself back in the room before Dallon is. I get the opportunity to tack my new old photo to the side of my bed and change into pajamas. I hate my dad but it's a nice picture. It reminds me of when we were actually close, humanizes him a bit.

I still hate him, but it's nice.

Dallon clambers in about a half hour later and immediately collapses to the floor, face down, in his funky skintight outfit.

"B," he whines and sticks his arm out for me to drag him to the bed, but I don't because his hand is bright red and I am afraid to touch it, "holy shit."

"Icicle worked you hard?"

"I think Icicle just tried to fucking kill me. Not only can he make the body parts I tried to hit as hard as ice, but I guess he's trained in a shit ton of martial arts," he rolls over and unzips the front of his suit, and there are in fact, over a dozen bruises, "and also, I can't stand on my own two feet."

So basically, if I squint and read between the lines, I think Dallon kicked his own clumsy ass. "I'm sorry. Did it help at least? In any way?"

He presses his palms into his eyes and lets out a very long and very upset groan. "I hate to admit I think it did. He's a cool guy but like I said, holy shit. We talked for a couple minutes and then I was kicked into next Tuesday. I sort of know how to kick ass and where to hit people? Not very well, though."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do. The only thing I refuse to do for you is lift you on the bed and tuck you in."

He pushes up to his feet but stays crouched and only stands slowly when his hands are wrapped around his sides like they're holding in his insides before they spill out. "The only thing I want you to do is tell me how your session went so I can keep my mind off this. That's all I want."

Easy enough. I clear my throat and wait until he's on the bed and sighing in relief to begin. "Well, we talked about how much of a private dick my dad is. I guess he wanted to come down and train me himself but everyone on Council talked him out of it and Miss Stone came instead. She told me to just call her Hayley."

"That's pretty cool. But does your dad not remember how your birthday went? Or anything before that?"

"I guess he wants to make everything up to me, but he's going to have to do that over my dead body because he's got that dumbass immortality bracelet. Anyways, then we talked about how similar you and Icicle are, finished with how much potential you and I both have, and then we called it a day."

He huffs and shifts to face the wall. "Wow. He said he'd heard a lot about me and was excited to teach me how to gain control of such a gift, he called it a gift, I did not. I showed him what I could do, he showed me what he could do, and he started giving me obstacles to dodge and shit to turn into. Turns out I am not the type of shapeshifter that can turn into animals, but I can probably absorb that from someone."

For a moment I forgot that he could mimic abilities. I glance over to him but I can't see if he's wearing the gloves. I should definitely be watching out for that every chance I get.

Dallon tries to grab the blanket at his feet and I get a flash of the gloves. He can't sit up enough to reach it, falling back with a yelp. He tries to wiggle it up with his toes, but the suit doesn't leave him all that much space to do that. "Do me a favor; keep talking, get me the blanket, and find the bandaids because I think one of them just started bleeding again."

I don't question it but I head over to sift for the bandaids first and he finally kicks up the blanket. "What do you want me to talk about?"

He grunts. "Anything. What superpower would you rather have. How many dogs do you want when you get older. What does your dream house look like."