The Elementals

Life really sucks when you have superpowers.

Not to be negative, because hey, toasting my own marshmallows is pretty cool, but it’s a little hard to look on the bright side when you were just starting to relax during a stay at your old orphanage in paradise, you’re back with your best friend and you woke up next to the girl you’re in love with, and then it all comes crashing down because some Shakespearean-named wackjob with too much time on his hands is hunting you down.

Freaking Shylock. I hate that guy. Want him to be dead but when I got the chance to kill him all I prayed for was him to live.

Coward, my mind supplies. Hypocrite.

Jensen’s hand is on my shoulder, grip tight. The pressure of his fingers seems almost distant― like he’s moving in slow motion, or maybe I am.

This is different from last time. Last time they pretended. Pretended to care, pretended to actually want me, pretended to be a nice family bringing me to a nice home in suburbia. Jensen wasn’t panicked. He sulked in our room and I heard him crying one night but he faked being asleep when I tried to talk to him.

He didn’t say goodbye when they took me.

The ride was odd. They had an SUV but it was black and shiny like a beetle shell. My stuff was tossed in the back like they didn’t care, like they were going to sunset the ride as soon as we got out.

They didn’t bring my suitcase when we got on the plane. Things felt weird, no one was talking to me, but it was too late. I was twelve. They brought me to the lab, kicking and screaming, and― well. It didn’t really go their way.

I remember the needles and the drugs and the blood tests. The electric sticks as punishment, hearing ‘subject’ and ‘specimen’ in place of my name. The training to find my physical limits and to push beyond them until I passed out.

Like I said, life really sucks when you have superpowers.

Jensen is leading me away, towards the city. His name slips out of my mouth, my voice cracking. He looks at me and his eyes say ‘goodbye.’ I don’t want it to be goodbye. I want to say hello to him over and over and over again.

“Move, you idiot!”

He shoves me, hard. Voices sound from inside the orphanage. Shylock giving orders. We have to go, my gut and my instincts and every cell in my body is telling me to go but I want to stay.

Tide grabs my wrist and tugs. The survival part of my brain kicks into gear and I’m following her and Caroline towards the city. The scenery blurs. We don’t have much time, no time actually. There were those stupid black beetle cars sitting outside the orphanage, and I’d bet money there’s a motorbike in the back of one. They could catch up with us in a minute if they wanted, but Jensen is stalling them.

Don’t let him get hurt.

I pray to whatever is up there, whatever it is that made me this way, whatever it is that sent the lives of all my friends spiraling out of control. I’m angry suddenly.

Don’t you dare hurt him.

I run faster, nearly over taking Tide. Even in the worst situations she’s still competitive, so she quickly takes the lead again. When we hit the city she lets Caroline take over. People step out of our way with frowns and confused glances. I guess they realize that Tide isn’t going to move, so they have to if they want to remain untrampled.

I slam into Tide, who’s stopped.

Actually, it’s Caroline who’s halted, and Tide ran into her, and I ran into Tide. A full on train collision.

“What it is?” Tide demands. Her eyes flick around us― left, right, up, behind. It’s instinct for her. “Are you lost?”

“No,” Caroline says. She points to the right. You know, at a brick wall. “We’re being surrounded. Through there are some government lackeys― five of them― and over to the left are three more.”

I’m a little concerned with the way Caroline said ‘lackeys’ like she’s some sort of nihilistic twenty-year-old, but Tide― always the focused one, always, always― says, “How far away?”

Footsteps bounce off the bricks. The alley is tight, with only three ways out: where we came from, a narrow section ahead (both currently being blocked off, according to Caroline) and then the alley behind us. I didn’t go into the city all that much unless Jensen wanted to. I felt that I should avoid as much attention as possible, what with the freaky combustion powers and all. Still, I know my way around at least a little, so it’s not a surprise when Caroline says, “That’s the opposite direction of the airport,” pointing to the alley at our backs.

We’re not going to make it. Not all together at least. I’ve caused enough trouble― this is all my fault, actually. I should have never brought my crap back here. I should have let Makuahine and Jensen and Kenna live in peace. And Caroline. She could have stayed in paradise, but here I am, dragging her into the mess that is my lifestyle. I’m doing to her what I wished never happened to me.

And Tide. God, this was such a bad idea, I knew it was a bad idea when she said we should go to Hawaii. I knew it was a bad idea but I still agreed, because my stupid idiot self wanted to be alone with her.

“I’m staying,” I say to Tide, the vague outline of a plan shaping in my mind. “I’ll distract Shylock, and you take Caroline to the plane and go.”

She stares at me. I stare at her. In pretty much every case, she’s far more stubborn than I am― than anyone is― but the one thing she can’t budge me on is protecting her.

Tide’s eyes are blue and blazing. “You are so selfish, you know that?”

I blink. That… is the opposite of what I was trying to do. I was selfish and now I’m fixing it. Right?

“What?” is all that comes out of my mouth.

Tide has her Destruction Face on, setting: verbal.

“You think you’re saving us?” she asks, taking a step closer to me. I resist the urge to back up. “No,” she snaps, jabbing my chest. “You’re actually shredding my heart to pieces right now. Because you don’t want me to get hurt?” She laughs, a short and contemptful ha! “Yeah, okay, that’s great. That’s fine.”

It’s not fine, the way she’s looking at me is not fine at all. Her voice is light but her face is angry.

“Did it ever―” she shoves me― “occur in that stupid brain of yours that I feel the same way?”

It did not.

Feel the same way how? That she’s more important than I am? That she makes my chest hurt when I look at her? That I don’t mind having a hundred nightmares if it means she sleeps next to me?

“Why the hell do you think I’ve taken a bullet for you?” she demands. “You― you doing this!” She waves a hand dangerously close to my face. “Doing this hurts me more than getting shot, you idiot. You are coming with me and there is nothing you can do about it, so Move. Your. Ass.”

I feel the same way.

“Told you,” Caroline mutters.

Why do you think I’ve taken a bullet for you?

Hurts more than getting shot.

“Caroline,” Tide says, voice tight and prim. “How about you go over there?”

Feel the same way.

“I’m psychic. I’m just going to read your minds anyway so just kiss and get it over with.”

She’s examining her nails like this isn’t the most chaotic day ever. I can’t quite focus right.

Voices from the other alleys.

“No time,” Tide snaps. “Caroline, go that way.” She points, arm straight and all wiry muscle. Tide is pretty much made entirely of muscle. Just muscle and bony joints. Don’t let her sit on you, lest you be jabbed by her elbows. It’s kind of… cute though. Jensen is scoffing somewhere. But it is, she kind of wiggles around to get comfortable and yeah, she’s stabbed me with her pointy knees and chin and elbows and shoulders, but it’s endearing that she has to stomp over everything (me) like seven times before she can get actually lie down. It’s nice that she lies down with me.

Straight people, I hear Jensen sighing, even though he knows I’m not. No freaking sense.

Tide grabs my hand.

Did it ever occur to you

“Come on,” she says, voice thin with urgency. She tries a smile. “Let’s go be bait.”

that I feel the same way?

She drags me down the alley. I’m dead weight, I know, but my brain and feet aren’t working and it seems better to just let her take my hand and pull me along. For safety reasons.

“Ready?”

I glance at her. We’re stopped at a corner; voices and shadows dancing along the wall across. Right. Bait. I nod in understanding. My voice won’t work.

“One.”

‘Feel the same way.’ Feel as in she reciprocates what I feel for her? Or feel as in she feels what I feel but in an empathic way that’s not quite real, and it’s more of an understanding than an “I adore you back” kind of thing?

“Two.”

‘Why the hell do you think I’ve taken a bullet for you?’ I don’t know, because you’re selfless? A hero? You root for the underdog and never give up? It’s not a rhetorical question and you’re genuinely confused as to why you took a bullet for me and you’re concerned you have some sort of disease of the mind? Plausible.

“Three!”

Tide leaps out and I follow her after a two second lag. Shouting as the agents see us and begin pursuit. The rapid pump of Tide’s chest as she moves faster than ever. Running. We’re always running.

She slows down just a fraction, a look of controlled panic on her face. She doesn’t know where she’s going. It’s okay though, because I do. I try to say “follow me” as I take the lead, but my brain and literally every other part of me are not cooperating.

A corner comes and I lean into it so I don’t have to change my speed. Tide follows too late and stumbles into me. Entirely unlike her. My arms are already down to break her fall, pulling her up so she can keep running. She stares at me with wide eyes, mouth open, but nothing comes out.

I want to apologize. She doesn’t like being helped; it makes her feel like people think she can’t do it herself. I know she can do it. She can do anything. But she shouldn’t have to alone, and someday I hope she’ll realize that I don’t help her because I doubt her. I help her because I want to, because it makes sense, because I can see myself by her side years from now and finally not be terrified of my future.

“They’re gaining!” Tide says, twisting to look behind us.

Yikes.

I push myself to go faster, calling up every memory of Honolulu that I have. The thing about an eidetic memory is that people think it’s the be all, end all; the most useful thing ever. And sure, it’s useful for school and trivia and daydreaming, but it’s not like a computer. What I have is all I have. No internet connection. We’ve entered an area of the city I haven’t been to, and I think the airport is that way, but at this point I’m guessing.

The bootsteps have grown less distinguishable as just a few men, and more like the herd of wildebeests that killed Mufasa.

We’re Mufasa.

I bring us around a sharp corner and start running

―towards a dead end.

Yikes with an expletive cherry on top.

The wall at the end is very high. A very high wall. Unclimbable, but―

“We need to get higher,” Tide says.

Exactly.

I move to rickety looking shed on the right. Hopefully it will hold our weight. It only needs to hold both our weights for a second, though. Then I’ll fix everything.

Tide clambers on top of the shed behind me, breathing hard. Her hair is an inch or two thicker just from the wind and sweat frizzing and tangling it together. She’s strong and beautiful and reckless and hopeful. I care about her, I care about her so damn much. The sheer force of the feeling makes me sway. I love her. I love her with everything I have.

We’re running for our lives and it’s a dead end and I need to hold these guys off so she can escape and they have guns and I’m not going to make it but she’ll have time―

I take her wrist, horribly desperate, wanting this to last just a little bit longer. I want to kiss her so bad it hurts.

“Tide.”

Her name comes out, I can’t help it. It’s gasping and breathless.

The men are coming their voices are getting closer their boots are slamming on the pavement their guns are cocking this is not a good time this is the worst time actually but I need to tell her.

I know what I have to do.

She’s watching me with wide, bluer than blue eyes. Her face is smudged with dirt and red from running. I could live in this moment forever― just before everything falls apart. I’m staring and staring at her and she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’m glad she’s the last person I’ll see. The last one that matters.

“I love you,” I say, lift her up, and shove her over the wall.

The thump of her hitting the ground is painful― I wish I didn’t have to, you know, throw her over a wall, but desperate times, right? I’m preoccupied with jumping down from the shed and facing the agents coming for me.

The logical thing would be for them to split up, half taking me on and the other half doubling back to find another way to Tide, but for once I’m glad I was at that stupid science lab. It means they know full well that I’m a “full attendance necessary” type of problem, so they all stick around to take care of me.

They’re all in black. Like cars, like agents. I don’t lash out first. It makes them nervous when they have to make the first move. Pisses them off, actually. Like “you’re the experiment, you should be scared, you should attack” and it’s almost funny to see their faces when I just stand there staring them down.

Let’s play chicken, you bastards.

On the left; peripheral vision. I duck to miss the kick and rise so the agent’s leg catches on my shoulder and he’s tumbled off balance.

Pain explodes in my back as someone else’s boot connects with my spine. No one-on-one, I guess. My hands scrape on the pavement before I duck into a roll. The force is sending me straight towards the gathering of agents, and they’re all waiting to get a hit in. I tighten myself up and burst into flames like a pyromaniac’s bowling ball. Or that little hedgehog-looking Pokemon. Cyndaquil.

The agents step back (the usual reaction), which allows me to stand without getting hit. I can’t do the “flame on Johnny” thing for long though, because it uses too much energy, and it doesn’t block―

A bullet zips past my head, disrupting the flames.

Yeah. Fireproof, not bulletproof.

“Coal!”

I knew this would happen. Why can’t she just not save everyone for once? Just once.

“Run!” I shout back at Tide, dodging one hit only to run right into another.

Fire leaps into my palms. The heat forces them back and I throw a kick into one dude’s nose. Hope you saved up for plastic surgery, man.

“But you’ll DIE!”

She’s trying to climb over the wall; I can hear the thumps and scraping as she kicks at the brick.

“Tide,” I say. Duck, roll, do that funky dance move where you rest on your hands and spin your feet out like a Skip-It of death. Take a few agents out at the shins.

“I can hold them off for now,” I say, getting to my feet and stepping back against the wall. One guy sneers at me when I say that, rolling his shoulder. I spit blood at him. “I’d like my last moments to be heroic, so please―”

Guy on my left, guy on my right. Here a guy, there a guy, everywhere an agent guy. I take the one on the left out, but that means the right one gets a kick to my ribs.

More fire.

They step back.

“―make this worthwhile,” I continue, “and run! ”

Someone shoots again. I’d rather not be in a cramped alleyway, but it does mean they’re careful with bullets. With the tight ricochet, they’re just as likely to hit themselves as me.

I know I should go for their faces. Blind them, make their cheeks flake and burn. I know I should keep my hands on fire when I grab at their arms to twist them back, scorch a hole in their jackets until I reach skin. I should, I should. I’d survive if I did that.

I let the fire on my upper body go out and I jump, pushing off the wall and tackling one guy to the ground. I roll under him so the kicks that were aimed for me hit him.

“Thanks, buddy,” I gasp, shoving him off.

Being on the ground means I’m in kicking range and believe me, that sucks, but it also means that their legs are in grabbing range. I snatch a random ankle and drag someone to the ground, taking two other guys with him. The amount of noise we’re making is incredible. Smashing into the shed, thumping back against the wall, grunting and yelping in pain, whacking a few trash cans, gunshots― you know, fired from a real, honest to God rifle? Makes a hell of a racket, and the police haven’t arrived. I can only assume that Izila paid them off.

“COAL!”

And then there’s Tide, screaming.

“Leave! ” I scream back, voice raking against my throat. I’m losing energy fast. It’s going to be over soon and she still hasn’t gotten the hell out of here, and honestly? I’m kind of pissed that this entire fight has been for nothing.

“No!” Tide shrieks, and she kicks the wall again. “I love you too! ”

My fighting stance falls back an inch, weight on my back foot.

She―?

I bring my attention back to the fight with a jerk. Stupid. Gonna get yourself killed because a girl said she loved you.

A pretty amazing girl. A pretty pretty amazing girl.

F O C U S, dumbass.

There are about four, maybe five bodies on the ground in various levels of unconsciousness. Another three agents are still up. One lady with a bloody nose looks at me like, ‘Really? You’re doing this here? Now?’

You really gave us no other option so yeah, we’re doing this here, now. Screw off.

I breathe in, crossing my arms in an X over my chest. The lady has a split second to regret her judgemental look before I throw my hands out, blasting a wave of fire towards the remaining agents. Not enough to kill, just enough to temporarily blind and maybe singe a few eyebrows. My powers are sapped but I have enough spite to rush forward and throw one guy into the lady, and knock the other agent’s head against the bottom rung of a fire escape. He’s unconscious, so is the lady, but the last guy didn’t quite get the memo. I snatch a garbage can lid― one of those old fashioned metal ones― and hold it like a shield as he pushes to his feet.

“No fire?” the guy says, grin bloody, spitting out a tooth.

“No dental insurance?” I reply, and hurl the lid like a frisbee straight into his teeth.

The world sways. I’m seasick on land. My back hits the shed and I fall against it. Spots flicker in front of my eyes. I could collapse and die right here.

I love you too.

My eyes snap open. Not dying today, thank you. Nope. Gotta get over that damn wall right now, immediately, ASAP.

There’s something I’ve been meaning to do.

I try to drag myself onto the shed and a literal tsunami of pain slams into me. I slide off the roof in a very pathetic manner. Too tired to try not to fall, too tired to just let go. My knuckles are bloody, bruises… well, the bruises are everywhere. My face survived pretty well; only a tiny bit of blood from a cut on my lip. Legs― nope. Jelly legs. My ribs hurt from being kicked at every possible angle.

I felt a bit like an action movie protagonist back there; taking on a gang of enemies in a back street to save the love of my life, but now I’m just struggling to breathe.

My head falls back against the wood of the shed. In and out. In and out. It takes a couple seconds to get used to the pain of moving.

But hey, just a day in the life, right? I’m good after a minute or two.

I conquer the shed, want to die but no, Tide is over there, you have to get to Tide. Wall. Get over the wall. Deep breath in, exhale. The dizziness has finally gone, the spots vacating my vision. Good riddance.

Nerves are starting to fire up in my stomach, which is just not fair. Absolutely terrible decision, brain. What if she left already? Finally figured to get out while she still could. Love you, bye. A hit and run, as they say. Maybe she didn’t even mean it. She’s like that. She’s done it before. Back in the freaking mountains, freezing my soul out and she’s like ‘no stay awake’ and I’m like ‘no let me die’ and then she almost kisses me on purpose just to get my heart rate up. Gave my heart a damn electric shock is what it did. Still haven’t recovered. Maybe she just said “I love you too” so I’d refuse the sweet song of death again and follow her. Like always. Like I’ll do forever.

No.

No, no, no, I like to think I know Tide pretty well. A fake kiss? Sure, she’ll pull that. Easy peasy, no remorse. “I love you” is kind of intense though. She’s like… allergic to feelings. She wouldn’t dare to even pretend to mention ‘love.’ That means it’s real, then.

My heart kicks into a higher gear. I can practically feel it struggling to keep up with my thoughts.

Because even if she was lying just to keep me going, even if she didn’t mean a single thing, the fact is I’m alive and I want to see her face again. It’s that simple.

I climb over the wall. I’m not willing to look at her, not yet. Because I’m scared of what I’ll find, and also I’m not sure I can land without falling over and if I look at her and then faceplant… not so good.

I keep my eyes on the ground below. Clench my teeth, prepare for the ache, and jump down. I tilt, but stick the landing otherwise, and I’m fairly confident it looked effortless.

Not that I’m trying to impress her or anything. That’s dumb.

Finally, finally, I look up. Tide stares at me, eyes wide, shining with almost-tears. Her face is drawn but she breathes in when she sees me and I love her so much.

I reach her in three steps and her face is in my hands and my lips are on hers and I’m kissing her and it makes the cut on my lip sting but I don’t care, I don’t care at all. She hiccups, a tiny, tiny gasp. Her fingers curl at the hem of my shirt, knuckles pushing against my chest, and I can feel her rising up on her toes to kiss back. Something overwhelms my senses, something so wonderful it makes me dizzy.

I have to let go eventually, because this isn’t a movie and I can’t kiss her forever to the sound of swelling music because the stupid government is after us and we might die and we’re on a time budget or whatever. Still, I let my hands linger on her face, thumbs brushing at her cheekbones.

Tide’s eyes are still closed when I look at her. The smile is already on my face when she opens them.

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” I say, half a whisper. I didn’t quite mean to say it but it’s true. Unbelievably true.

She holds her breath at the words. Just the… the thought, the slightest implication that I caused her to lose her breath is making my legs weak. I could kiss her again, just for that. The ache of bruises and the sting of cuts fade away. I look at her and I think that everything is going to be okay.

Which was a foolish assumption, really― and you know the rest.