Chapter Text
It all started around puberty, like most things do. In normal cases, boys turn into young men and welcome things like body hair growth and voice deepening. Although awkward, it was usually a process that was exciting and harmless. Unless you were Dan. In that case, puberty brought something that was the opposite of normal. One day when he was twelve, he was arguing with his little brother, and suddenly the lounge curtains were on fire.
After the smoke detectors had gone off, everyone except for Dan's father was standing on the sidewalk. Mr. Howell had brought in the garden hose from the garage and doused the fire. All the windows were open to let the lingering smoke out. The sofa and carpet were singed. The curtains were unsalvageable. Everyone was confused.
"Boys," Mrs. Howell, the family dog under her arm, had turned to her sons, "What happened in there?"
"I don't know!" cried Adrien, tears springing in the seven-year-old's eyes, "D-Dan was yelling at me, and-and-and then the curtains exploded!"
Dan looked outraged. "I didn't do it! They were just on fire suddenly!" he said, wanting to make sure that he was not in fact the only person yelling in the situation, "And Adrien was yelling too!"
Mrs. Howell looked between her sons apprehensively. "Well, whatever happened, be more careful," she advised before her husband opened the front door and said they should be okay.
His mother and Adrien went into the house first, the smaller boy forgetting his distress and just being happy to get out of the early winter cold. Dan fell back, his heart rate suddenly increasing as a thought dawned on him. He didn't feel cold at all.
The next incident occurred just a few weeks later at school. Dan had not been doing well in maths class... in fact, he was nearly failing, and to pass the semester he needed at least a B on the last test. He was a nervous wreck until his maths lesson. Then, as the teacher handed tests back, she gave Dan his with a disconcerting sigh. When he flipped over the paper, he spotted a big red D written in the corner. He hadn't failed the test, but the semester was out the window. This was it, wasn't it? Dan thought. It was over, he would never get out of Berkshire, he would never go to university, and he was a failure.
Dan crumpled the test paper in his hands while he squeezed his jaw. It wasn't long before he started to smell something burning. Dan opened his fists to see that the paper he crumpled had started to turn brown and curl as if it had been thrown into a fire. With wide eyes, he quickly stuffed it into his backpack and looked around. The kids around him were looking around curiously. They probably smelled the burning paper.
But how did he make it burn? He was angry, yes, he felt like he could have set the paper on fire but that didn't usually mean he could actually set it on fire. So that day, in Year 5, Dan figured out that he was not like the other kids. He was one of them.
Different, mutant, super, whatever they were. At that point, all Dan knew about them was that they were taken away from their families and sent somewhere far away to play with their freaky powers. That would not be him. That was not what he wanted.
Dan kept his abilities to himself for quite some time. For a while it was easy. Don't get worked up, don't burn anything. Year 9 was when that started to get hard. Stress started to get to teenage Dan, and his powers were getting harder and harder to control. After he had singed his duvet and burned his English essay for the third time, he decided he needed to do some research. When his parents and brother were safely asleep in their beds, Dan stole down to the den to use the family desktop computer. It wasn't much, but harnessing the power of Google was the best way to get information without leaving a trace.
Dan discovered that people like him were considered dangerous. They were taken "willingly" from their families and sent to a "school" where they could "learn to control their powers" in the safety of their "state of the art facilities" surrounded by their "peers". It sounded like a prison for freaks. It gave Dan some solace that there were others like him, but he didn't want to go with them. He heard of them all the time. It was rumored that John Milton never returned to school after Year 7 because he woke up one morning eight feet tall. Adrien once told Dan that a girl had to leave his class because she accidently broke a table in half.
They were everywhere. And they never stuck around very long.
Dan closed Google and quickly cleared the search history. The government thought he was dangerous. What was he going to do, have a melt down and set the entire world on fire? Dan looked at his hands, which were warming with his thoughts. Maybe he could.
With the knowledge that he could be taken away at any moment if anyone found out, Dan worked extremely hard to keep his emotions and his powers in check. As Year 9 faded into Year 10 and then 11, the Howells started to notice their son's indifference. They grew increasingly tired of Dan having no opinions and saying the word "whatever". As he crept up on seventeen, his parents decided that he should be over the reclusive-teen-phase.
"Daniel," said his mother after dinner one night, "Is there something wrong?"
Dan looked up from washing his dinner plate. "No, I'm fine," he replied.
"Are you sure?" she pressed, "You've just seemed so disconnected lately-"
"For a while, actually," his father interjected.
"-and we just want to make sure you're okay," she finished. Dan carefully placed the plate in the dish drainer and placed his wet hands on the kitchen counter. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but his mother started talking again. "We know you want to go away to university in a couple years, Daniel, and we want to make sure you're okay before we send you away."
Send him away. "I'm fine," he said again.
"Then why are you so sad all the time?" his mother asked.
"I'm not sad-"
"You certainly have a funny way of showing it," said his father.
"Dad, I'm just trying to-"
"It doesn't matter, you're concerning us, and you can't just-"
"Listen, I have a lot going on-"
"You're a teenager, what could you possibly have going on?"
"James!" his mother hissed.
Dan narrowed his eyes, fuming silently. They didn't understand, even now when they thought he was just having normal teenage problems. They definitely wouldn't understand if he told them his real problems. He would have to keep this a secret his whole life and hope to dear God that he wouldn't-
"Dan!"
"What?" he snapped, lifting his head to stare at his parents.
"You're steaming," his mother squeaked.
Dan laughed mirthlessly. "Yes, I know, you guys are pissing me off, I'm fine-"
"No, Dan," his father said quietly, "You're literally steaming."
Oh no. Dan slowly looked down to where his hands were gripping the kitchen counter, still wet after he washed the dishes. Well, they were wet, but not anymore. His hands were emanating steady little clouds of white steam as the water evaporated off of them. He had lost control again and let the heat get the best of him. In front of his parents. He looked at them again. Comprehension dawned on their faces. They knew now.
"Okay, okay," said Dan, holding up his hands, "You guys have to trust me on this. I'm not dangerous. I've known that I can do this since I was twelve, and nothing bad has happened."
His mother looked almost fearful. "Dan, this is illegal. Unhealthy and unsafe. You should be at that special school in London, where you can learn everything you need to learn, and be happy." she said.
"I am happy!" he said, and realized that perhaps he was lying. Maybe there was something he could do with his abilities... no. People like him went to London and then never came back. Who knows what they did to them there. It was like walking down a dark corridor without knowing what was at the end. "I can't go there, mum. It's unpredictable. I won't be happy, I'll be alone, and I won't be able to go to university, which I've been working towards my whole life," Dan said, pleading now, "Please don't tell anyone. Everything has to be normal."
His parents exchanged a look. "Yes, alright. We'll keep it to ourselves," said his mother, "Just promise you won't burn anything again? This actually explains so much."
Dan smiled gratefully. "I'll try my best," he said. He walked forward and gave her a hug. She went rigid for only a moment before hugging him back. Dan was safe, and he knew his parents would keep him safe. He didn't know why he ever distrusted them to do the right thing.