#which keeps wallets closed and items inside safe from prying hands.

[tellemanca]

PENN STATION, THE DAY BEFORE.

DECEMBER 10TH, 2007. One day before JOHN FOUND CLARISSA.

The tired 17– almost 18 – year old girl was curled up on her corner on the bench, head gently tucked under her pack. Tomorrow morning, she told herself, she would get a hot sub to make up for the missing meals for the last two days. She just had to hold out with her limited cash flow.

Telling herself tomorrow had always worked, but it was hard when it was a night like this; cold, quiet… Even the station was unusually deserted. The jacket was tugged tighter around her small frame and her head nuzzled against her bag, pinpointing the exact location of her teddy bear inside the bag and managing to fall asleep easily.

      Young lady, excuse me, I know you’re tired, but I need you to wake up now…. Clarissa, wake up, darling.

Bolting awake, she whimpered as she glanced around her, gaining her bearings. She was still in the station and the only person near her was a neatly dressed man reading a newspaper. Glancing at the large clock, it was half past 3 in the morning.

     Hello, Clarissa.

Terrified, Clari whipped her head around to find no one had spoken, but the man had settled his newspaper into his lap and was looking at her with a warm smile. He looked like he would be the one with the British voice

It’s alright, darling. I’m just like you. Relax your mind, I’m not going to hurt you. The man waved his hand gently and Clarissa shyly returned it.

                                                             How– I don’t understand–

       It’s alright, I can explain. Everything. Are you hungry? There’s a diner a few blocks away that is still open, I will pay if you wish to hear me out. Maybe we can get you a warm bed for the rest of the night, hmm?

Clarissa tensed, a million different scenarios going through her head, most prominently was her experience with men who offered her a bed for the night. They usually thought it was fair exchange over paying her.

      No, darling. You misunderstand me. I don’t wish to hire you for a night. I wish to give you the opportunity to escape this life, and settle yourself into something better… Where you’ll be safe.

Carefully, the man tucked his newspaper into his bag and stood, crossing slowly towards her with his hand extended.

“You are talented, darling. You do not need to fear me, or fear any man ever again. Let me get you some food and we can speak openly, verbally or non-verbally, about what I can do to help you.”  His voice was calming. And though she still had reservations, the mental image of a man in a suit cornering her in the locker-room all those years ago. The man seemed to tense at her thought, his teeth gritting. “You should have never had that happen to you. I apologize for how that man scared you. You were a child and you should have been offered safety. You still are a child… In fact…” He reached into his pocket, pulling his wallet out and offering her the photo of a smiling toothy blonde girl, a few years younger than Clarissa. “You remind me of my own daughter. Her name is Cassandra.” She is like us as well. And very smart. I’m sure you two would get along well.

Clarissa swallowed tightly, trying to do her mind trick and see what he was really up to. His mind resisted at first before it bent, letting her in to see the truth in his words. The small girl, being levitated around a nice house, giggling about being super girl while the man chuckled as he held her up. I swear on my daughter’s life. I will not hurt you, Clarissa.

Backing out of his mind carefully, still unsure of how that trick worked, she glanced back at his hand which was still extended out to her and carefully put hers into it. Noting how dirty her hand was, fingernails with dirt under them and jagged from chewing to stop the hunger pains against a clean and well manicured hand. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have nice nails again… To be as well groomed as the man in front of her.

“What’s… What’s your name, sir?” She asked, her voice a little rough from lack of use. It was probably the first sentence she had spoken in a week. “My name is Hugh Bathory. You can call me either, if you’d like.” Helping her stand, his other hand pocketed his wallet before carefully scooping her bag onto his arm, like he knew it contained the last shreds of her life.

      Come along, I think I would like eggs benedict. How about you? Pancakes with sausage?

Clarissa allowed herself a small smile before feeling a very familiar tug to her body as he teleported them out of the station and into a new life.

Mr. Bathory explained everything about her powers as they ate (for 4 am, the pancakes were exceptional, and he didn’t seem to judge her lack of attention when they had arrived, only advising her to eat it slowly while he took a sip of his coffee and asked for a refill of her hot chocolate). He explained that she was a product of evolution, and she was special, even for their species. She was a Tomorrow Person, and she was a telekinetic specialist. Classified as a pusher with fine dexterity.

  (Taking the salt shaker, he uncapped it and poured a pile on the table. “Now, put the salt back, Clarissa. With your powers.” Clari had looked at him, wondering how he knew she could do this– before carefully moving pinches of the salt back into the shaker; a telekinetic hand sweeping the excess into her real hand and carefully funneling back in that excess. Mr. Bathory had laughed, clapping his hands. “Wonderful, Clarissa! You are a true telekinetic specialist!)

And finally, he explained Ultra. The same company that the man in the locker-room had tried to force her to go to. And Mr. Bathory was VERY adamant that the man was in the wrong and that she very much had a choice. She could come to work with him and learn to control her powers, OR she would receive a shot– a tracer, not a remover – that would help him keep an eye on her and she was free to go. “You can stay with us for a week, see what we do, and if you change your mind, I’ll give you the tracer, and you are free to leave.” He had said.

It sounded fair enough. Clarissa thought.

After he paid for their meal, he had teleported (that was the word for it) her to a very nice hotel with two private bedrooms and bathrooms, offering her privacy.

That first real shower… Clarissa had forgotten what her skin had felt and looked like… And forgotten how pretty her hair was. Mr. Bathory had left her a pair of soft cotton pajamas on her bed when she had gotten out. (They are my daughter’s, you are both the same size I believe. Which also brings me to having you see a doctor if you’d like. You need to be looked after until we can bring your weight back up to what it was before you broke out.)

Clarissa almost didn’t believe that she had this huge bed all to herself, or that the PJs were clean and fresh on her skin. She had even found a beautiful brush that she was hesitant to run through her hair, but then did so vigilantly, using the hair dryer to leave her hair falling down her back in soft waves. Warm and clean, she had glanced around the room, still in a state of disbelief.

Quietly, she stepped out into the living room of the suite to see Mr. Bathory typing on a very expensive computer, reading over reports as she approached his side. Looking up, he beamed.

“You already look improved, darling. Why don’t you go to bed and sleep as long as you like. I will be here if you need me.”

Clarissa couldn’t help herself, overcome with emotion and tears pricking the corner of her eyes before she leaned down and wrapped her arms around the older man’s shoulders, hugging him– hugging someone for the first time in YEARS– Thank you.

      You’re welcome, darling. You’re welcome. You deserve to live like a princess. And you will.

Mr. Bathory was true to his word and was there when she woke up after a very long sleep, offering her a cup of tea and an omelette, though it was half past noon. He even had gotten her new clothes… Well, his daughter’s clothes, temporary for now.

That afternoon, he took her to the Ultra building in Battery Park, giving her a guided tour and introducing her to Hillary, a younger girl who had lost her family to a home invasion. Hillary took to Clarissa like a duck to water, the two girls laughing and teasing each other after an hour. It was then she also met Dr. Jedikiah Price, who was a human, but was confident in his ability to train Tomorrow People.

His mind was closed off, but Clarissa didn’t try to pry. Dr. Price seemed hesitant on accepting her into his program, even with the caveat of the one week trial. But he agreed, leading her, Hillary and Mr. Bathory to the dorms, where she was offered a space all for herself with a window of the street. Hillary was in the room next door. Dr. Price explained all of the different things in the room, showing Clarissa how to access the computer built into a desk cabinet, how to call for someone in an emergency and the power suppressor on her door, explaining this was used in case of emergency, or if she teleported in her sleep. The white walls of the dorm were bare, but Hillary ‘whispered’ that they could go poster shopping for her later if she wanted, causing Mr. Bathory to give a twitch of a smile.

Giving her the keycard for her room that would also be attached to her ID, Dr. Price left her to settle in while Mr. Bathory reached into her bag, pulling out her teddy bear– which had been gently cleaned without her knowledge, and placed it gently against the pillow of the bed, setting her bag down in the corner. “Here is where I leave you, darling. You will be safe here. Remember, if you don’t like it here after the week, you will be free to go.” Clarissa launched herself at him, giving him a tight hug which he was quick to return, kissing the top of her head. “You and I will be very good friends, Clarissa. I can feel it in my heart.” Bidding her goodbye, he left the room, Hillary quickly stepping in to show off her dorm room to Clarissa and helping her find a basket of essential shower items, showing her where the clean linens were and where to drop the dirtied ones, and where to go when she needed a little spending money since while they were underage, they weren’t legally paid yet.

The week was hard, but Clarissa immediately loved it. Every morning she had breakfast with Hillary in the meal room, the younger girl keeping prying questions from reaching Clarissa. Then they went to morning training, where their instructor was careful with her, letting her test her limits with minimal pushing.

Clearly impressed by her telekinetic manipulations, he let her sit and watch the rest of the lesson. Telepathy training was rough, but no one was mad at her for not being overly good at it. (“Everyone has a specialty, but everyone also has one they just aren’t as good at as the others. It’s okay.”) Teleportation training was… well, it was fun, the instructor bounced a ball and Clarissa would teleport to try and catch it where it landed. She even liked fight training, and was paired against Hillary since they were they same height. The other girl had more training and more weight on her and was competitive. Something Clarissa had seemed to forgotten. By the end of their match, they were both laughing about how Hillary had thrown Clarissa against the ceiling and Clarissa had decided to stay there, refusing to come down while also poking Hillary with a telekinetic finger.

Dr. Price had a doctor come see her on the second night, leading her down to a lab where she was weighed, measured and had blood samples taken. She was also given a flu shot and a few vaccines not unusual for her age (she was told most colleges required these for their dorming students and they were no different) and was given a few bottles of vitamins to take before breakfast, the doctor telling her with a kind smile that they would be giving her protein soy shakes with her breakfast to help her build muscle and weight. Between training was relaxation time where the young agents could go out into the world or stay in and peruse a small library, or study online classes for college credits. She went out with Hillary, for once experiencing New York, not as a homeless teenage prostitute, but as a young woman. They went and got coffee with a few of the other girls one day, and went to see a movie the other. It was nice. Hillary even told her that when they were of age, they could stay in the dorms, or they could have part of their pay cut to fund an apartment for them in an approved building.

In the end, after experiencing a week of Ultra for herself, Mr. Bathory returned, sitting her down with Dr. Price in his office. Dr. Price shook her hand when she said she’d stay, welcoming her aboard. Mr. Bathory could only smile and embrace her warmly, reminding her that she would be safe, and never want for anything while she was with them.