Chapter Text
The first time it happened, she was in the backseat of Finn’s car. It was one of those late summer afternoons, when everyone was at the beach and they could have the high school parking lot all to themselves. Finn was getting handsy but Clarke didn’t mind. It wouldn’t be the first time they had fooled around on the cracked leather seats of Finn’s beat up Buick. The smell of cigarettes and sweat permeated the air. Clarke didn’t smoke or care for smoking, but Finn loved it and she loved him, so she tolerated the smell. Finn’s hands found their way into the back pockets of her ripped shorts to squeeze her ass and bring her closer. Clarke gasped, but didn’t let up on her attack of Finn’s lips. She straddled him as best she could in the cramped space, letting her hands dig into his hairline, kissing him deeper. They had never gone all the way, but something about that day felt like it might be the day.
Clark felt a rush of heat kissing Finn, unlike anything she had experienced before. It tasted like leather and salt. She opened her eyes to stop the kiss and comment on the feeling, when Finn started choking. Clark panicked. She pushed herself up grabbing Finn by the chin and neck trying to find the problem. It seemed to make it worse, Finn’s face was turning blue as he clawed at his neck. The warm feeling Clark felt earlier came through her hands, almost burning. She tried to pull back but found she couldn’t let go. Finn grabbed her wrists to pull her off, but it was as if she was super glued to him. Now, the burning was coursing from her palms and the place where Finn’s hands made contact with Clark’s wrists. Finding no alternative, Clark wedged her foot between her and Finn kicked against Finn’s chest. Finn flew a few inches back, hitting the window with a heavy thump. Clark fell back, hitting her shoulder against the car door, a hiss of pain escaping her mouth. The heat left her hands and wrists as she detached from Finn’s skin. Clarke felt dizzy. She looked up to see the windows had completely fogged over.
Finding herself, Clark’s heartbeat started to slow and her hands tingled like she had touched an electric current. She inspected her palms and wrist, finding no clue as to what had just happened. Breaking from her search, Clark remembered the boy she loved was still in the car, and he wasn’t moving. Clark scrambled back up to her knees, moving quickly to Finn. She made to grab him but stopped a breath away from his face. Fighting the urge, Clark balled her fists and allowed herself to look at Finn. If it wasn’t for the paleness if his face, Clark would have sworn he was sleeping.
“Finn?” The word came out quieter than Clark intended. When no response came, a switch went off in Clark’s head. The kind of switch she’d only felt once before with her dad.
“Finn?!” Clark yelled, but Finn didn’t stir. Clark felt a cold sweat overcome her. Careful not to touch Finn again, she grabbed Finn’s collar and pulled him up. The first thing Clark noticed was the weight. The only other time Finn had felt that heavy was when they had play fought as children and he would dump his body sideways on top of hers. Being smaller, Clark would always struggle to wiggle out from under his prone form. Finn would laugh but never help her by moving his weight. He called it playing dead, and Clark never thought she could hate a memory more than she did now.
“Finn Hudson Collins, you better not be faking,” Clark growled, shaking Finn by the collar. All that achieved was causing Finn’s head to roll forward. Clark stared at the crown of Finn’s head, his usually lush locks of brown hair hanging limp and dull. A few strands of his hair fluttered as Clarke’s breath blew across it in harsh puffs. Clark didn’t acknowledge the tears starting to streak down her face. All she could manage to do was whisper Finn’s name. Hoping he would hear it if she said it enough times. But he never did.
Now, here she was at a school for ‘gifted’ youth. It didn’t make any sense. She should be in jail right now. Something she did to Finn had killed him. She was sure of it. But no one believed her. There were no marks on his body, just a bump on the head where he had hit the glass after Clarke’s desperate kick. His death was ruled natural; an asthma attack they said. Finn had never had asthma as long as Clark knew him.
Clarke had spent a week locked in her room replaying every moment, trying to figure out what went wrong. On the first day of the second week, two shadowy figures had visited the house asking for her. They had sat her and her mother, Abby, down. They said that Clarke needed to come with them to keep everyone safe. They explained the school and how everything would be covered. Abby immediately refused but Clark only heard the word safe and agreed. Maybe they couldn’t lock her up, but they could remove her from everyone else.
Franko’s School for Gifted Youth, hidden at the end of a winding driveway, was a sprawling high Victorian Gothic style mansion complete with tennis courts, pool, and fountain. When Clark arrived, a tall man introduced himself as Gustus Rider, the PE teacher. His size made Clarke believe he really loved PE. He ushered her through a tall dark wooden doorway, infinity symbols carved on each door. Once past the door, Gustus led her down a long hallway with large oil paintings depicting various fruits in repose. When they reached the end of the hallway, he knocked on a door labeled Polaris.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice seeped through the glass door. Gustus opened the door and stepped into the room. Clarke stood awkwardly outside. When Clarke didn’t follow, Gustus waved her in and pointed to a chair. Clarke walked slowly into the office, the smell of musty books hitting her full force. She stopped halfway, taking in the decorations. Model spaceships hung from the ceiling over bookshelves overstuffed with thick science tombs. A hollow plastic globe sat on the edge of a desk, or what Clarke guessed was once a desk before a pile of papers overtook it. The walls were lined with sun faded space/galaxy themed motivational posters bombarding Clarke with words like COMMITMENT, TEAMWORK, and EXPLORATION. Clarke would roll her eyes, but she knew she was being watched. The woman at the helm of the office was an older brunette with a knowing smile. Clarke wondered if she was also a PE teacher judging from her casual athleisure wear and high ponytail. Once Clarke was fully in the office, Gustus excused himself and closed the door behind him.
“Miss. Griffin. I’m pleased to meet you.” Clarke didn’t respond. The brunette continued as if Clarke had. “I’m Doctor Becca Franko, but you may call me Becca. I run the school you currently find yourself in. May I call you Clarke?” Clark nodded, wondering if that smile ever cracked.
“I’m happy you took our enrollment offer. I understand that the last few days have been hard for you, and a transition like this isn’t helping, but I’d like to try.” Clark looked away. She had come here to forget what had happened, not rehash it or be pitied. “You might be wondering why you’re here.” Clark finally acknowledged Becca with an icy glare, which Becca expertly ignored. “We take in extraordinary youth such as yourself. We want to help you be the best person you can be to make the world a better place.” If Becca wasn’t taking herself so seriously, Clarke would have barked a laugh. A place with Clarke in it had no hope of making anything better, and Becca should know that. Becca must have sensed Clarke’s anger, because her smile slipped into a worried expression. “I know I must sound like the posters on my wall, but I asked you here for a reason. You may not see it, but you’re a part of something much bigger than yourself.”
Now, Clarke rolled her eyes, “What’s your point?”
“You’re special. Very special,” A weaker smile graced Becca’s lips, as if she expected Clarke to take the news badly.
Clarke scoffed. Undeterred, Becca pulled a file from her mess of a desk and began reading from it, “Clark Abigail Griffin. 18. Honors Student. On track to graduate. Interested in art. Part-time worker at a local cafe. Killed her boyfriend, Finn Collins, a few weeks ago.” Becca closed the file.
At the last sentence, Clarke’s eyes widened, “You believe me?”
“Yes,” Becca’s affirmation went off like an alarm in Clarke’s head. If Becca knew she killed Finn, why would she invite her here? Was this a trap? What did Becca want? Clarke began to sit up, eyeing the door.
“And,” Becca said as she raised her hand in a stop motion, “I know it was an accident.” Clark wanted to make a run for it, but something was physically holding her back. Well nothing she could see, it was more of a weight making her limbs heavy and harder to move. “Please…” Becca nodded to the chair with her head. Clarke felt something release her, and she slowly lowered herself back into the chair.
“Clarke, you are a member of a subspecies of humans called mutants, who are born with superhuman abilities.”
A beat of silence passed between them before Clarke shook her head, “You’re kidding me, right?” Clarke again thought to make a break for it, but something about the way Becca was looking at her told her she wouldn't make it.
“If you would…” Becca extended her hand towards Clarke, who looked down at herself finding she had nothing to give Becca. “You,” Becca said. “I’d like to show you something.”
Clark rose slowly and took a step towards Becca’s desk, “Your hand please.”
A new rush of fear ran through Clarke causing her to take a step back, “If you know what you know, then you know you shouldn’t touch me.” Becca smiled sympathetically before digging into a desk drawer. She put on purple latex gloves and extended her hand out again. Clark did not want to know why she had latex gloves at the ready. She didn’t want to trust the woman in front of her, but what choice did she have? It was going to be Becca’s funeral if the gloves didn't work. Clarke extended a hesitant hand and before Clark could blink, Becca pulled her hand in and pressed something sharp into the meat of her palm. Clark yelped and pulled her hand back cradling it to her chest.
“What the fu…” The words died in Clarke’s throat as she watched a drop of blood, her blood, levitating in Becca’s palm.
Becca removed her gloves, the drop constantly hovering at eye-height. With a movement of her finger, Becca made the blood turn and become flat like red stained glass. Becca studied it for a moment before saying, “O negative. You have had bouts of anemia, and…” Becca moved her fingers again, causing the blood to return to its droplet form. “Your family has a history of leukemia.”
Clarke wanted to argue with Becca and accuse her of looking up her medical history to use against her but she couldn’t. Not with her drop of blood defying physics and logic between them.
After a few moments of silence, Clarke said, “My grandmother died of leukemia.” Clarke looked from the blood to her hand. Whatever Becca used left a clean prick mark that was red but not bleeding. Becca slowly curled her fingers into a fist, the drop of blood getting smaller until it was no longer visible, like it never existed, but Clarke had the proof.
“Now that I have your attention, let me talk to you about your class schedule and living situation,” Becca’s megawatt smile had returned. Clarke slumped back into her seat of her own will and nodded weakly.
A knock interrupted their conversation, causing Clarke to almost fall out of her chair. Even though Becca had explained things to Clarke for almost an hour, she was still jumpy.
“Come in Raven” Becca invited a brunette of Clarke’s age into the office. Raven had a cocky smile and a high-ponytail that put Becca’s to shame.
“Hey Doc. Hope I’m not late,” Raven mock saluted Becca. For her part, Becca seemed to be holding back a laugh.
“Clarke, please meet Rav…”
“Raven Reyes at your service,” Raven cut in and bowed low, winking at Clarke as she rose. “But you can call me Rocket Girl.”
Becca shook her head, but her smile never wavered, “Raven will be your roommate and will be in charge of showing you around. Feel free to come to me with any questions you may have once you've settled in. Welcome to Franko’s.”
All Clarke could do was nod dumbly as she left the office. Who are these people? Freaks and flirts? They should start a band, Clark thought to herself as Raven led her back down the fruity hallway, as Clarke had decided to call it. Raven led them up stairs, past classrooms filled with students, desks, chalkboards, the whole nine-yards.
“So you met the Doc. What did you think?” Raven said, slipping her hands into her zippered grey hoodie's pockets.
“She may have missed the class on consent,” Clarke said, massaging her palm.
“Oh no. Did she pull the blood trick on you, too?” Raven smiled and shook her head.
“Blood trick?” Clarke said, afraid of the answer.
“The Doc is a hemocyte manip,” Raven shrugged.
“A what?” This better not be some weird sex cult, Clarke thought.
“Sorry. Forgot you’re new. Have you ever watched Avatar the Last Airbender?”
Clark scoffed, “Duh, and the Legend of Korra. Nickelodeon did Korra dirty.”
“Agreed. Well, remember when Katara had to fight that old lady who could bend blood?” Raven whipped out her hands, feigning punches.
“Yeah, that was creepy,” Clarke said, not seeing the connection.
“That’s the Doc but more complicated,” Raven said, grinning. “We couldn’t stop teasing her after that episode came out.”
“Okay…” Clarke found her brain was malfunctioning. It must be, right? Raven was comparing a human to a cartoon character. Still, if she was going to understand anything she needed to play along. “But you called her a hemo-cynip?”
“Hemocyte manip. Hemocytes are blood cells and manip is short for manipulator,” Raven nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “The Doc feels things are less scary and easier to understand if we break them down to their bare scientific elements, but using big science-y words doesn’t always achieve that.”
“Right.” Despite her mother and her father’s gene’s, Clarke was having trouble keeping up. You'd think being the daughter of an engineer and a doctor she'd be able to science-talk with the best of them.
“The Doc must have told you what you are,” Raven said, turning excited eyes to Clarke, curiosity clearly written on her face.
“She did,” Among other things, like the brief history of mutants, Becca had slipped in Clarke’s “power” as Becca called it. But knowing it didn’t mean she wanted to share it.
“And? Don’t be a tease,” Raven wiggled her eyebrows.
Clarke rolled her eyes, “I am anything but a tease.” A second later, Clarke realized what she had said and mentally kicked herself. Was she flirting with Raven? Flirting was one of her defense mechanisms. It had saved her from one too many occasions with cops, jerks, and idiots. So far, Raven had turned out to be none of those and Clarke knew she should not be taking out her fear on a stranger trying to help acquaint her to her new life.
Raven, who was completely oblivious to the machinations of Clarke’s mind, smiled like she was a gold miner in 1949. “Okay. I can work with this,” Raven cackled.
Clarke shook her head, again admonishing herself for the slip. How could she be making jokes when she could kill people and everything was upside down. Best to get it over with and move on.
“Becca thinks I’m a kinetic absorber, but it could change,” Clarke said, looking to Raven for recognition.
Raven stopped in her tracks, “You’re an energy sucker?”
Clarke grimaced at Raven’s words.
“My bad,” Raven said, raising her hands in surrender. “It’s just that in the realm of physical powers, abs are rare.”
“Physical powers?” Clarke said, crossing her arms. Becca hadn’t gone into extensive detail because she had had to repeat the same things multiple times before Clarke was able to digest it.
“You haven’t had ‘intro to powers’ yet, but they’ll explain everything. Let me save you a couple hours of Kane’s lectures,” Raven said, holding up three fingers. “People fall into one of three categories: Physical, Mental, and Omnipotent. Then you can break each of those down. Physical peeps can be manips like the Doc, who can manipulate things, creators, who can create things from nothing, and abs, who can absorb things.”
Clark nodded like she understood what Raven was talking about. If Clarke really thought about it, nothing Raven was saying topped the existence of mutants.
“Mental peeps can be asses, psychos, or pathetic.” Clark must have looked alarmed because Raven hurried with her explanation, “Kidding. Sorta. Mental peeps can be Astral, think out of body experiences; psychokinetic, moving stuff with their minds; or telepathic, mind readers.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“Ha… I guess not. But students are not allowed to use their powers against each other unless authorized by a professor,” Raven turned the corner before Clark, almost slamming into someone.
“Watch where you’re going creepy-nips,” A tall girl with blonde dyed hair growled as she passed by Raven, who, to her credit, didn’t lose what Clarke was slowly learning was her trademark grin. She was wearing high-waisted olive colored jeans and a loose white shirt under a faded denim jacket.
“You think being a psycho-path would mean you could anticipate things better,” Raven said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Excuse me?” The testy blonde turned and walked back into Raven’s space. “What did you say, Reyes?”
“You know exactly what I said, Woods,” Raven said, getting in Anya’s face. “Unless you’re losing your touch. Didn’t know people could go backwards in their power development.”
Anya growled, pushing close enough to Raven that their noses almost touched. Clarke felt something akin to awkward standing there waiting for something to occur between the two women she barely knew.
“Anya, there you are,” A firm voice called from behind Clarke. Anya’s shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t move from her spot in front of Raven. A brunette with thick braided hair and green eyes holding a notebook sidled up to the group. She wore a sleeveless charcoal-colored sweater vest that reached halfway down her thighs, a tight dark burgundy long sleeve shirt underneath, and dark blue jeans leading to a perfectly laced black combat boots. “I wanted to go over the notes for the Advanced Physiology exam.”
When Anya didn’t respond, the brunette looked up from her notes and noticed Anya wasn't alone, “Hello, Raven.” The brunette was polite even in the face of her friend about to fight someone. Clark had never seen someone so unaffected. Maybe Anya picking fights in the hallway was commonplace? Something for Clarke to look forward to in the future.
“Hey, Lexa. Can you call off your guard dog?” Raven joked and backed away from Anya. Lexa didn't laugh, making the air feel more tense than before.
“Anya, we’re going to be late.”
Anya nodded but pretended to lunge at Raven for effect, only walking to Lexa’s side when Raven failed to flinch. Finally, green eyes found Clarke and scrutinized her for a moment. Clarke took in the stare. Lexa cut an intimidating figure with her ramrod stance and chiseled jawline. It didn’t help that Lexa looked fit, the muscles on her arms beautifully demarked by her shirt. Not that Clarke would be intimidated by a girl with a nice jaw and arms. Clarke had a nice set of arms that were currently covered up by her favorite grey and white long sleeve flannel. Lexa blinked as if done with an assessment of Clarke and said, “You’re new.”
“Observant,” Raven mumbled under her breath.
“Someone has to be, Raven.” Lexa said, without taking her eyes off of Clarke, the hint of a smirk betraying her otherwise stoic demeanor. It was the first sign of life Clarke had seen from the brunette. So far, everyone she had met were amiable like Becca and Gustus or obnoxiously in your face like Raven and Anya. It appeared that Lexa fell into her own group, quietly composed, except when Clarke looked in her eyes. Something in those green-hazel eyes betrayed a fierceness Clarke wasn’t expecting from a girl in a sweater vest talking about notes.
Lost in her musings, it took a second for Clarke to notice Lexa had extended her hand to Clarke, “I’m Lexa Woods. Fourth year, physical class combustion manipulator/creator.” The words rolled off her tongue as if she had just told Clarke where her hometown was instead of explaining her mutant abilities. Too bad Clarke had stopped listening the moment Lexa’s hand came into view. Clark stared at Lexa’s hand with fear, the memory of Finn’s pale face freezing her in place. A couple of awkward seconds passed before the bell rang.
“Shit,” Anya hissed.
Unfazed by the bell, Lexa waited for Clarke to shake her hand. Clarke looked from Lexa’s hand to her face and shook her head.
“I can’t,” Clarke retreated away from Lexa until her back hit the lockers on the wall, giving her enough clarity to slip around the corner and run.
“Clarke!” Raven called after the blonde. “Great,” Raven sent a death glare towards Anya. “So much for the tour.”
“Sounds about right,” Anya chuckled.
“Shut it, psycho-path,” Raven said, getting back into Anya’s face.
“Try me, creepy-nipples,” Anya said, pressing Raven back with her hand.
Ignoring the back and forth next to her, Lexa looked from the corner Clarke disappeared behind to her own retracted hand. She frowned for a second before turning her attention to Anya and Raven.
“Come on, Anya. Professor Seda won’t be pleased,” Lexa said, walking back down the hallway she had come from.
“You know Indra worships the ground you walk on, right?” Anya said, trying to buy more time to fight with Raven.
Lexa didn’t turn around, “What does that mean for you if you enter the classroom after her prized pupil?” Anya huffed and started following Lexa, only turning around to draw her finger across her throat and point to Raven mouthing the words ‘next time’.
Raven rolled her eyes but quickly took off in a sprint after Clarke.
“Griffin!” Raven wheezed as she finally made it to the blonde’s side. Raven had found Clark sitting in a ball a few left turns away from where they had started. Clark’s head was buried under her hands, between her knees.
“What were you, a cross country runner?” Raven said, folding over and putting her hands on her knees. ”You sure you’re not an adrenaline creator?”
“Lacrosse,” Clarke mumbled out.
“What?” Raven said, looking at the blonde.
“I played lacrosse,” Clark said, lifting her head up from her knees.
“Of course you did, Blondie,” Raven said, regaining her standing position. “What was that back there?”
Clark shook her head. How do you go about telling a complete stranger you have PTSD from touching someone to death?
When Clarke didn’t answer, Raven sighed and walked over to Clarke’s side, sliding down into a cross-legged position next to her. Clarke made sure to shuffle a few inches away. If Raven was offended, she didn’t show it. They sat in silence for a few minutes. After what felt like an eternity to Raven, Clarke’s voice broke through, “Creepy nipples?” Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven, trying hard to avoid looking at Raven’s boobs.
Raven laughed, “The mental kids have nicknames for us, too. Manipulators are nipples, creators are creeps, and absorbers are ab-holes.”
“So you’re a manipulator and a creator? I didn’t know you could be two things.” There were so many things Clarke was realizing she didn’t know and to be honest she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Then again, what choice did she have?
“A tech manip to be exact,” Raven said. “Which means I can control circuits, wires, electronic parts, and what have you. Some people would classify me as a tech psycho but I refuse to be put in the same boat as those mutants. Psycho kids think they're so much better than the physicals.”
“So you can create tech?” Clarke stared at Raven in awe.
“No, but you're looking at a truly rare creature,” Raven said, pointing to herself with her thumbs. “A mutant with creator powers that are completely unrelated to my manipulator powers. I’m a collagen creator.”
Clarke opened her mouth and then closed it without saying anything. She felt like she had heard that word before somewhere, like a commercial.
“I know, what does that mean, right?” Raven whipped out a Swiss army knife and before Clarke could register what was happening, Raven had dragged the little blade against the inside of her palm. The skin opened long enough for Clarke to see red, but never bled. Instead Raven’s skin filled in the gap until it looked like Raven had never cut herself in the first place. “I can heal myself. Which was handy when you had an alcoholic mother and too much time on your hands as a kid,” Raven chuckled awkwardly, but recovered quickly. “Can’t kill this bitch.”
The fact that Raven might be indestructible or that she had witnessed two impossibilities in one day was not what bothered Clarke. What really bothered Clarke was how quick Raven had been to show off her powers. No shame, no fear, just...pride? Was everyone as flippant about their abilities as Raven, Becca and Lexa for that matter?
Clark shook her head. This newfound information about Raven, which continued to make her head spin, left Clarke with questions. Did Becca pair me up with Raven because I wouldn’t be able to kill her? Does Raven know I’m a liability? As curious as she was, asking Raven would reveal more than Clarke wanted to at that moment, so she changed the subject.
“And angry cheek bones?” The nickname earned Clarke a megawatt smile from Raven.
“Never heard that one before. Mind if I steal it?”
Clark shrugged, “All yours.”
“Anya is our resident psycho-path. Top of the mental class, major bitch, and majorly hates me.”
Clarke didn’t ask why Anya hated Raven. She could see how Raven’s personality could rub someone the wrong way. There would be time to get to know Raven later, and Clarke found she didn’t mind the idea of becoming friends with the forward brunette.
“So she can read minds and move things?”
“You’ll ace Kane’s class no problemo,” Raven said, clapping a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke internally winced at the touch but kept her cool. As long as there was a barrier, Becca said her powers wouldn’t manifest.
On top of that, Clarke was barely able to process Raven’s touch, considering the sheer amount of information she had just gained left Clarke stunned. Until a few weeks ago, any type of supernatural power seemed like the stuff of movies and comic books. Yet here she was, living out an episode of one of her favorite syfy shows.
“And what about Lexa?” Clarke said, nonchalantly.
“What about her?” Raven said, giving Clarke a suspicious look.
Clark glared at Raven until Raven raised her hands in surrender, “I kid. If you didn’t fall for my charms, you won’t fall for Lexa’s lack of them.”
“Lack of them?” Clarke said, giving Raven her full attention.
“She’s… different,” For once, Raven seemed to be struggling for words. “Most people come here because they woke up one day blowing up stuff.”
Clark frowned.
“Okay, maybe that was just me,” Raven chuckled. “But, I mean that a lot of us come from ‘normal’ homes with ‘normal’ families.” Raven supplied air quotes each time she said the word ‘normal’.
“Lexa, Anya and some others here are...” Raven sighed, letting the back of her head rest against the wall. “It’s not my story to tell.”
Clark was intrigued. She hadn’t been digging for more than a description of Lexa’s powers, and she didn’t think she’d heard Raven voluntarily shut up since they’d met. But Clarke knew a thing or two about keeping secrets, and the brunette earned some respect from Clarke at that moment.
“Okay, but what kind of mutant is she? She said she was physical and then I... spaced out.” Lexa must think I’m such a jerk for refusing to shake her hand like that. Clarke A. Griffin, already living up to the ab-hole name. It wasn’t Lexa’s fault Clarke was volatile.
“She’s a pyro-manip-creator, but she uses the term combustion,” Raven extended her fingers out in front of her, mimicking an explosion. “Poof.”
Clarke quirked her eyebrows, “She makes… fire?” Maybe Clarke wasn’t the only volatile mutant around.
Raven nodded, “Descended from Prometheus himself.” Raven looked both ways down the hall before whispering to Clarke, “Some people think she’s an omni.”
“Omni?” Clarke decided the nicknames were getting old.
“Potent. Omnipotent,” Raven said, all humor gone. “Kinda like a third class of mutant: the most dangerous and powerful. Omnis can do it all: create, manip and absorb if Physical or astral, psychokinetic, and telepathic if Mental. A real triple threat, emphasis on threat,” Raven exhaled loudly as if even talking about omnipotent mutants exhausted her. “Some people swear they’ve seen her absorb fire.”
“She’d make a good firefighter,” Clarke said, trying to bring some levity back to the conversation. Serious Raven was a little offputting.
“The last registered omni we had, way before my time of course, almost caused a tornado to tear down the school. Omnis are trouble. Unpredictable. Uncontrollable.”
During her description, Raven had gotten closer to Clarke’s face than Clarke was comfortable. She put some space between them and said, “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll stay out of her way.” If Raven has never met the registered omni, why is she so wary?
Raven shrugged, pulling back, “It’s a rumor. Anyway, she has a stick so far up her butt it wouldn’t matter if she had omni powers. She probably wouldn’t use them.”
Now it was Clark’s turn to let her head rest against the wall. I can barely handle my own weird power . Becca said it would take time, but Clarke would be able to touch people again. She couldn’t believe her. It was too much hope to have right now. But imagining having to learn to handle three destructive powers at once, Clarke could understand why Lexa seemed so constrained in their brief encounter. Control would mean everything. Control was something Clarke craved more than anything. Control meant she could be normal and go home.
“Come on,” Raven said, deciding sharing time was done. She pushed herself off the ground and waved Clarke over, “I have to finish the tour.”
Clarke nodded. Maybe staring at different wall art would help her digest everything happening to her. Every hallway’s oil paintings seemed to have a theme, this one was landscapes. As they started to walk down the hall, Clarke couldn’t help but ask, “So, you just assumed I liked girls?”
Raven didn’t skip a beat, “You are wearing flannel.”
“It keeps me warm,” Clark said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And it was my dad’s.”
Raven shrugged and started walking down the hallway, Clarke in tow. Clarke was grateful Raven hadn’t asked for details on her father. Today was bad enough without delving into non-mutant subjects of her life that caused her pain.
More silence passed between them, and Raven looked ready to apologize when Clarke blurted out, “You were half right. I’m bi.” Finally, one thing she could share without bad memories.
Raven fist pumped the air, “Called it! We are going to have so much fun this year, Griffin!”
Clarke just shook her head. What have I gotten myself into?