Fearless

He didn't want that

"See you at theatre practice later?"
"..fine."
"I'm a god. I'm literally a god."
Ryan chuckled as he watched Sam jump into the air. "Sure."
"Ms. Prickins said she'd give us candy for every person we recruit!"
"I guarantee you're the only person who's excited about that." He smiled. "They're probably gross."
"Just leave me to my joyous celebration and kindly fuck off."
"Of course, Your Highness."
He walked away, laughing.
As soon as he turned away it was like the air got heavier.
It was the guilt because of his mission.
At least that's what he told himself instead of admitting he'd made very good friends in a concerningly short amount of time.

...
Ryan was, as usual, remembering. Rewinding back, sifting through his memories. It always felt like he was reliving his life.
He was also walking.
He went back through the whole day, wanting to stick it in his brain and never forget it. Hard, belly-hurting cackles after school. Loud, there-are-people-staring-at-you laughs during lunch. Hushed, quiet-the-teacher's-looking chuckles in English.
Back to when he woke up Alex today, in class. The look in her eyes. That 'I'm God' look.
He'd seen that look in the mirror before.
It's the power you have, that makes you think you can do anything you want. Rebel against your mom/employer, catch a murderer on your own.
It made you think you were invincible, when the only thing you were was reckless.
Yeah, he'd been there.
It was a weird thing to bond with someone over, a superiority complex, but he just felt closer to her.
STOP IT RYAN. YOU'RE. ON. A. MISSION. SHE'S THAT MISSION.
She was an assignment. She was a file in a folder, a case meant to run cold.
She was a victim.
"And you're a child."
Huh?
"I said, you're a child. Those thoughts have no business in your brain."
"Excuse me?"
There was a lady sitting on the sidewalk, by the looks, maybe 47, presumably homeless for about 39 years, hasn't showered in 2 and a half days, and a really big dog person. No, wait.. lizards. Favorite food is cheeto dust sprinkled on bagels.
"You've got a good eye." She cocked her head, studying him.
Well, he did develop good analyzing skills because of his- wait. Hold up.
He didn't say that out loud, did he?
"Nope."
"You-"
"I'm a gifted, if that answers your question."
A gifted???
"Yes, a gifted. An Unspeakable."
Ooh. She was a no talky-talky.
"...what?"
"Unspeakable. No talky-talky. Mind gifts, right?"
His Mentor always shut down the subject when they were mentioned in stories or gifted history, and when he did talk about them, his face took on a sneer. They were the gifted who could mess with the mind, and the mind was too delicate a thing to mess with.
They were the despised, the terrifying, the feared.
"Correction: the oppressed, the silenced, the mistreated." She blinked. "The fact you've said 'my victim' and 'no talky-talky' within seconds of each other is kind of scary."
She pulled up her bangs, revealing a big crow on her forehead, black tendrils almost bleeding out of it, onto her face. "You've seen this before, haven't you?"
He had. On the palm of a little boy in a small town in Britain called Tetbury.
He was...
"on a mission?" She finished.
All he could do was sigh. "...yeah. On a mission."
"Well, all I have to say is... I know what it feels like to look at people like stories on a page. I know what it feels like to look at someone and forget that they're looking back at you too."
She looked at him, and all he saw were a mother's eyes. "Don't make those mistakes, kid. I know a little something about bad parenting. It'll come back to bite her, I promise."
He wanted to smile. He wanted to say he wouldn't. "Ok."

She was a victim.
...
"I'm a victim."
She was pacing her room. They had to have targeted me. Was it Mr. Baker? No, He walks his cat there everyday. He would've done it sooner. And he's like, 900 years old.
The only other person there was... what was his name?
...Skylar. Skylar Finley.
Purple hair, by the tree. Tall, big nose, played basketball.
If she remembered right, he was in theatre club with her.
And he was gonna answer some questions.
...
"Ok guys! Thanks to Sam, we have a new member. Say hi to Ryan!"
He waved. He thought he was done with introductions, but I guess not.
Said recruiter was gnawing on a mint, looking very satisfied with himself.
"So." Mrs. Prickins began handing out script papers. "Here are the parts you can try for, we're holding the auditions in two weeks."
Sleeping Beauty. Huh.
"Hey Skylar, can I talk to you? Outside?"
Ryan's ears perked up at Alex's tone. He turned, and...
Shit. Shit, shit, shit shit shit.
The purple boy from the park.
...
"Was it you? At the park?"
"Look, I don't know what happened to you, but I went there to draw and listen to music. Nothing else."
"You were the only one there who could've done it!"
"Done what??" He shrank into himself, which didn't do much, as he was six three. "I thought we were friendly..."
Why was she killing him with her eyes??
"Me too! And then you go and shoot me!!"
"Wait, you were shot?!!?"
"Didn't you see that when you pulled a trigger on me?" She looked murderous.
"I didn't see shit, I didn't know you almost died!!"
Oh no.
He's innocent, isn't he? She could tell in his voice that time. And now he knows. Nice going. You're so stupid.
"What happened, Alex??"
"Ok, I can't- I thought you did it... I have... I have to go."
"Alex, hold on..." He took her wrist gently. She had a steely expression, but she was crying.
He didn't want that.
"Please, just tell me."
"You can't tell anyone about this." She pulled her hand away. "Anyone at all."
And she gave him one last glare before she ran down the hall.
Oh my god.
That just happened. Alex was shot at yesterday. And he was there. Right there.
He could still feel her wrist in his hand.
It was shaking.