CHAPTER 17: EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH

It was warm. The sort of warm where you feel safe, content and none of your muscles want to move, except for the slightest stretch or wriggle to find a more comfortable position. Sleep still gripped my mind and rather than trying to think or open my eyes, I just lay there. Lay there and listened to the sound of a tv in the room, soaking in the warmth and the sensation of a large hand gently stroking my hair.

Already my sleep’s dreams were fading away. One had been a happy dream. All I could remember of the dream was that I had been living with my family in a city of gold and marble, atop a mountain and surrounded by pure white clouds. As happy as it has been, I sensed I didn’t belong, or that the dream didn’t belong to me. As if I was a passenger, not in control of the body I was in, but instead just viewing the world through their eyes.

It wasn’t the oddest dream though. I dreamt I’d fought an angel in a dark city plaza. I’d had wings, I flew! Somehow I beat the angel. Strange… The dream had been so real and clear. Had it happened?

Everytime I tried to wake enough to think the hand came down for another stroke, scattering my concentration and reducing me to sleepy happiness. Thinking could wait. I was warm, happy and safe.

My mind continued to drift, unable to muster the will to follow through with any thoughts more complex than unfocused impressions that drifted through my head like fluttering butterflies, until it latched onto the TV's audio.

“...both Yelmorn Industries and the US Government Taskforce for the Emergence have denied all allegations and Yelmorn has stated the following, ‘We will not comment on conspiracy theories.’

Yelmorn… Wait… There was something important-

As if it was cleaning a whiteboard, the hand stroking my hair erased the thought. A blissful murmur escaped me.

We are now taking you live to an OMR press conference in New York by OMR founding member and spokesperson Mystrix Pallas.”

The strong clear voice of the TV presenter was replaced by the sounds of shouting reporters, causing my mind to reel as it struggled to pick a voice to lock onto. A grumble escaped my lips and the hand paused.

“Mystrix Pallas, Mystrix Pallas! Can you tell us more about the strange OMR memo and press release from earlier today?” a voice called out over the rest.

The press conference quieted as a clear and commanding voice cut through the noise of jostling and shouting reporters. The painful discordant sound had gone silent, I let out another grumble. This time a thankfully one.

“The purpose of the memo and press release was clear, the OMR will officially be pulling out of the hunt for the individual Wraith, who escaped from the Yelmorn owned Penrith Centre for the Confinement of Dangerous Emerged, during the recent mass breakout,” the commanding voice spoke. It was sort of soothing. Oh! Right! Wraith is me, I think...

“This announcement comes in light of the recent leaks to the press and online, as well as files that were delivered to our offices and the offices of Amnesty International. Given the continuous coverage of the Yelmorn atrocities and the ongoing live broadcast of the victim’s interviews, we will be sticking to the OMR’s response. Firstly the OMR will be offering assistance to all the victims and we will be organising counselling for anyone affected by the news. We would also like to also confirm that we will be consulting on the legal case Amnesty International is mounting to exonerate Wraith of all charges due to recent facts.”

Each sentence was like a gust of cold wind buffeting my warm fuzzy mind, forcing me towards clarity and wakefulness. I couldn’t help but grumble in annoyance as the deluge of information washed away the comfortable warm haze. What sort of terrorist leaves a TV on, in a sleeping person’s room! Grrr… What I was hearing felt important but I was failing to grasp what she was saying, an atrocity, victims, Yelmorn, OMR? Something about exonerating Wraith? Me?

Before I had a chance to think my through what I had already heard, another reporter identified himself and yelled out another question, “What does this mean for the OMR’s already tenuous relationship with the government’s taskforce?”

“The OMR will continue to seek a working relationship with the US Government on the matter of Emerged individuals and the meantime we will continue to follow our charter and help provide legal services for Emerged, while assisting law enforcement and the government with the apprehension of Emerged who decide to use their powers for evil,” the voice, Mistress Phallus I think, continued.

The sound of a scuffle broke out in the TV’s background and my mind immediately conjured the image of a reporter shoving their way to the front of the pack. Through the scuffle another reporters voice called out, “What can you tell us about the rumors and unconfirmed reports of a confrontation between Wraith and the hero Seraph, last night during Penrith’s blackout?”

Oh shit that wasn’t a dream! Fuck me I really did blow up a power substation and fight Seraph. She tried to kill me! Wait the raid, they are talking about the raid! Is everyone alright? Did we get Kelly!?

Shooting up out of the sheets, I stood on a bed, my bed, dizzily swaying as my blood pressure caught up and my vision came back. Blood thundered in my ears as I looked around... I was in my room and below Al was staring up me at with shocked concern from where he was sitting at my bedside.

“We currently know as much as you do, but I would like to remind you that the OMR’s role is as a support structure and unified body providing representation, we are not directly in charge of any heroes. If there is evidence of wrongdoing from either party, the OMR will act to investigate then act. Finally we would like to remind you in the event of a hero breaking our charter, an OMR tribunal can enforce penalties on a hero, including even banning them from receiving OMR support.”

Al reached over to a remote on the bedside table and turned off the television, “I expect you must be feeling a little confused, Sweetheart, seeing as its past midday and you’ve been out fast asleep for nearly thirteen hours.”

Thirteen hours! I went to open my move and speak, but Al having noticed my shocked expression, stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, just above my spike.

“Ah Ah Ah, little Robin. Everything is alright. You did your part magnificently and even took Seraph out of the fight. I found you right after, on my way back from doing my bit and yes, Kalia and Laithe managed to shut the lab down and rescue everybody,” Al soothed.

“And Kelly?” I asked hopeful.

Al chucked, “Yes and Kelly. She is just as eager to see you as you are her, but you needed your rest and we had a few things we needed to do as well. We made sure to interview and take her testimony of everything that happened since she was recorded dead, up until we rescued her.”

Al’s voice turned somber, “Robin… I know you are a strong girl, but you may need to prepare yourself for when you see Kelly… She… Well, even though she can apparently heal from anything, even death. Her mind… Robin, you probably know better than most the sort of trauma she went through. She is going to need lots of time, support and love to recover and hopefully return to her old self. I’ve already found an extra gifted psychiatrist to help her and they are currently in session, but... Robin, if anyone can understand and help her, it is you.”

“I- I think I can do it. I owe it to not just her, but you and everyone else who helped me. I’d hate to think who’d I’d be if Kelly, Ms Clark, you and everyone else never helped me,” I shuddered as a cold shiver travelled down my spine at the thought of the lonely, hurt person I’d been and what I could have become or done, if I had endured my time since Emerging and in the prison, alone and friendless.

I’d gone from a friendless orphan with shitty foster parents to having these amazing friends and found family. Friends like Kelly, Nel, Kalia and Redd. Adults I could actually rely upon like Barb, Ms Clark and Tinker. Possible role models like Nightbinder; Laithe. Then there was Al, I don’t know what I could have done to earn the generosity or care he heaped on me.

These people actually gave a fuck, do you know how rare that has been in my life so far? Parents, who dumped me out back behind a hospital. Countless caseworkers in the foster system who cared only about quotas and ticking boxes, fobbing me off to different institutions, programs and foster parents. Foster parents who returned me like I was broken goods, foster parents who only cared about the foster checks. Teachers who didn’t care outside of school hours. The list went on.

The number of bruises and belt marks that had been carefully left under my clothes where they wouldn’t show, or times an adult had clipped my ear in passing when others weren’t looking. Negative physical contact outweighed the rare occasions of positive contact by orders of magnitude.

You think I wanted to flinch every time someone tried to hug me?

I was getting better though, thanks to my new friends. Honestly! Hugging every time you meet someone, that couldn’t be what normal people did? ...It was nice though.

My reverie was broken by a concerned Al clearing his throat, I had spaced out. As worried as he looked, he decided against asking what I was thinking. It’s a rare talent to know when to mind your own- I mean judge the moment. A talent I can honestly say I’m thankful Al had, as I wasn’t ready to confide with him about this part of my upbringing.

Instead he brought me up to date with what had occurred since we parted for the raid last night. Vulptrix and Nightbinder’s fight through the tower and the rescue of the Emerged lab rats. How he used them as a distraction and grabbed as much evidence from the executive offices as he could in the time he had. How he found me moments before I passed out after my fight with Seraph and carried me to the rendezvous point, a waterfront restaurant that was under renovations.

“Bastion was there? That Captain America rip off who has taken a few too many hits to the head? Whoops... I probably added to that when I made him eat dirt. Still I am surprised he didn’t try to arrest you, considering his punch first ask questions later approach,” I interrupted, snorting as I tried not to laugh.

Al smiled and softly shook his head, “You might laugh, but he has a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders. His only fault is his horribly naivety, coupled with romanticised ideals of heroism. What he saw down in the basement of Yelmorn was surely a painful wake up call.”

“Must be nice... Living with your head in the clouds, unable to see the rest of us wading our way through all this shit. Sorry Al, I’m struggling to empathise with him,” I deadpanned. What use is a good heart when you are protecting a status quo that protects bad people and forces good people into inescapable painful lives filled with catch-22 pitfalls designed to beat you down.

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“Well I can’t fault you, dear. Nevertheless, I can’t help but wonder if that good heart will break from what he saw, or if he will come out of this a better hero.” He mused, “The world could use such a rare commodity as a good hero.”

Sometimes I wondered if Al lived in a different world to the rest of us.

Taking my silence as permission to continue, Al went on explaining everything that happened while I slept. Thanks to his daytime job, Al was an old hat when it came to rallying the media and controlling the message. Taking the information he had gathered during his investigation, Ms Clark’s case files and the plethora of documents, files, photos and videos he had acquired as evidence during the raid, Al had constructed a dossier.

A dossier aimed at the heart of Yelmorn. Using Nel as a courier, copies of the dossier were delivered to the desks of every major news group, as well as Amnesty International. That wasn’t enough for Al though, along with yet another video message as Unbowed, the dossier was leaked across the web with Spider’s help. For their ‘small’ fee of course, Spider was mercenary by nature.

The final copy of the dossier was given to Nightbinder and Bastion, with the weight of the two hero's testimonies it would be delivered to the OMR’s branch office here in Penrith.

Left with each copy of the dossier was a small note that simply said, “I have given you all the evidence you need to pursue this story, but there remains many voices who will wish to speak out. Yelmorn’s victims will not be silenced, come listen and spread their words. Call this number and a contracted Rifter will transport you to where they are being cared for until their liberty is vouchsafed. Unbowed.” At the notes’ end was a number a burner phone in Nel’s possession.

With the dossier out in the open, Yelmorn was on the back foot unable to react while under public scrutiny. The live broadcast of the victims’ testimonies was their shield, not only could they no longer be silenced but they could not be touched. There would be no successes attempting a cover up, or claiming it was a hoax. That didn't stop them trying. The Government task force had already disavowed Yelmorn, claiming no knowledge of the experiments and a likely frantic PR representative at Yelmorn had in the face of all the evidence tried to write it off as a conspiracy theory.

I guess when you’re that deep in the shit the only thing to do is keep digging.

Talking about digging, Al warned me against digging around, looking for the leaked images or footage acquired during the raid, “These aren’t things anyone should have to see, let alone the innocent eyes of an underage girl like yourself, Robin. Even I find them distressing, I’d hate for you to have nightmares, sweetheart.”

There he goes calling me sweetheart again. He’s been calling me sweetheart and honey a lot recently… It's not like I want him to call me that or anything!

That big hand of his descended onto my head, further messing my bed hair. I felt my face grow heated and I cursed my fair complexion for betraying me. Why did he have to be so… caring! Staring a hole into the floor between my feet, I was thankful I barely came up to his chest in height. He couldn’t see my face, I’d never live it down if he saw it right now.

You’re probably thinking I’m an idiot right now… ‘Robin why don’t you just enjoy and embrace it?’ Yeah no. This was just temporary, I knew better than to get used to it or become emotionally invested. I’d be eighteen and an adult before I get lucky enough to get exonerated, then I’d be out on my own. It was a lesson you learnt after the first couple foster families if you wanted to protect yourself. I was failing at it…

Before I could slip up and let my emotions betray me, he left. Left to cook the breakfast he insisted I needed, while I washed and dressed. He was making it hard not to like him.

I was halfway to the shower and it was less than thirty seconds after he left the room, when my curiosity got the best of me. Diving back to my bed, I whipped open my laptop and started searching for the leaks. A minute later I found what I was looking for and seconds after that I found regret.

Regret, horror, disgust, anger, desolation and nausea. It was like seeing the aftermath of a massacre, a still wet torture chamber, the contents of a serial killers freezer and fresh roadkill all at once. I don’t know how I got there, but I was dry heaving over the toilet. Kelly, my poor Kelly. What did they do to you?

The coughing, dry heaves of my empty stomach desperately trying to escape and run for the hills, transitioned to deep sobs as I knelt draped over the porcelain toilet bowl.

* * *

A very rough hour passed before I managed to pull myself back together, shower, dress and find Al in the dining room. This time there wasn’t a lecture about my tardiness waiting for me. Instead I was met with a sympathetic smile.

“Sweetheart… I- ...Why don’t you grab yourself a seat Robin. I have your breakfast here, I managed to keep it hot for you,” Al said motioning to the dining table.

Picking one of like twenty chairs available, I sat as Al placed a plate laden with food in front of me.

It is hard to keep moping when there is a pile of fluffy pancakes drenched in maple syrup from north of the border and pillows of whipped cream in front of you. And a much needed jug if coffee. The smell of both already had my stomach growling and my mouth drooling appreciatively. I wish I could get used to this.

The first forkful of heavenly syrup smothered pancakes was about to grace my mouth when Al decide to rudely interrupt. A soft hug around my shoulders. My heart didn’t skip a beat, nor did that cursed heat return to my cheeks. They absolutely did not. Ok maybe they did... Thanks dad… Can I get back to eating?

He did let me get back to eating, but it took no small effort ignoring the thoughtful gaze he was directing my way. I’ve always found being watched unnerving and my inability to read Al’s intent would have had my mind working in circles if I let it. It was best to ignore him and not think about what he was planning. If I had to guess, he looked like he was dying to ask me something.

It was almost 5pm by the time I finished breakfast. Yes, 5pm. No I didn’t spend hours eating, I’d only been awake for about two hours. Yup, I woke up around 3pm. Working backwards, I’d slept for about thirteen hours, Id passed out around 2am, our Yelmorn raid started around 1am. Why was I having breakfast at this late hour instead of another meal? Cause breakfast is the most important meal of the day! That and I was breaking my fast, I’d last eaten a brief supper snack before going out on our raid.

* * *

Six o’clock rolled around and Kelly finished her session with Derrick Parsons. You remember the ‘gifted’ psych I mentioned earlier? He was an emerged psychiatrist with the ability to read minds, Kalia and Laithe found him in the holding cells down in Yelmorn’s basement labs when they rescued Kelly. From the way Al talks about him, I’m starting to think that old wolf is soft on him. If you know what I mean.

When I saw him I could see why. He might look worn and malnourished from his time in captivity, but with a bassy voice that rang out in a rich African American New Orleans’ accent, that indomitable smile he had, brown eyes that still shone despite all odds, broad shoulders that were made to lean on and crows feet in the corners of his eyes that suggested he laughed often. He was a catch and I approved, even if Al’s ex might have a fit.

I didn’t get to do more than quickly say hi before Al pulled him away. Which left just two, myself and Kelly. The bubbly goth, who had become my world in prison.

I can’t say how long we stood there facing each other, but it felt like an eternity as we both struggled to find the right words for this moment. I’d like to say I found the perfect words to describe how I felt, the joy and relief seeing her here finally safe, how I felt about her, how I felt I had failed her in prison, but it was Kelly who made the first move.

Kelly had abandoned her search for words and settled for half running, half stumbled over her own feet towards me, to grab and hug me. Confused and a flicker of hurt flashed across her face when I stepped back and held up a hand signalling for her to stop. It wasn’t that how I felt about her had changed or even that I didn't want the hug. Oh, I so so wanted that hug.

I wanted that hug without holding back, without explaining the need to be careful of my spikes.

They had been in my mind for a long time, I’d even thought I was a monster because of them. It took me time to realise that the emergence gave me only what I wanted.

I was a girl, that part was simple.

I had always found darkness comforting and wanted the power to protect myself. How that had manifested was an affinity and control of shadows and darkness.

The spikes had been a mystery. A mystery I think I had solved. When almost all physical contact I experienced had been negative, I’d become uncomfortable with all physical contact. The spikes were something to protect me and warn off those who thought to touch me.

I no longer needed them.

I could protect myself and there were people who wanted to embrace me, people who wouldn’t hurt or betray me.

I had been thinking on the subject of their nature ever since I first formed my sword with them as inspiration. Formed out of condensed darkness and easily returned to darkness. My wings last night only strengthened the argument.

I wanted to try.

Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. Just like how I formed my sword, I visualised the spikes in my mind and then as I breathed out I imagined them turning to misty darkness and evaporating.

Without opening my eyes, I blindly felt along my arm, first my forearm, then my bicep, my shoulder, neck, crown of my head and then back down my spine, the sides of my abs and down my legs. At no point did my hand meet blade sharp obsidian spike. With eyes open I confirmed what I had felt.

My spikes were gone, leaving behind paper white skin and swirling black tattoos that crossed my skin like mist.

I nearly tackled Kelly to the ground with the force of my hug. I'm not sure whose top was wetter by the end, cause we both ended up crying into each other’s shoulder and neck as we embraced. We had a lot of hugging to catch up on.

* * *

That wasn’t all the crying we did as we caught up. I cried as she recounted everything that had happened since we parted, I cried when she told me of what had happened to her. I honestly felt like I had failed her, I’d failed to work out how to escape with her and then my telling Ms Clark had gotten her transferred. It took a while for her to convince me otherwise.

Eventually it was time for a late dinner and for Kelly, who'd been up all day bed.

For me there was one last surprise.

I’d gone through the motions of getting ready for bed, pulling on PJs, brushing teeth, my mind going over the days events. I wasn’t sure how I was going to fall asleep, even as I slipped into bed and reached over to turn off the lamp. In less than twenty four hours, I’d raided a powerful company that was experimenting on Emerged, learnt I was potentially facing an exoneration for my supposed crimes and reunited with the person who had not only been there in my darkest hour but given me my name.

It was a lot to process. It felt unreal, like a strange dream I was about to wake up from. Wake up and find that the last few months since the first night of the Emergence was a dream. I knew it wasn’t, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

It was now that Al came knocking on the door, again knocking me free of my thoughts.

“Robin... Sweetheart, can I come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the thick door.

I sighed, wasn't like I would be able to fall asleep straight away anyway. “Fiiine!” I called out in that reluctant voice most teens learn early on.

The door had a lock, but I hadn’t felt the need to use it. I felt safe here and regardless, I was in a secret underground bunker, if they could get in here, a simple door lock wouldn’t keep them out of my room. I watched on as the handle moved and the door clicked, before swinging opening. Even though I knew it was him, I felt an unwanted flash of anxiety.

Stepping inside, Al left the door ajar as he moved forward and sat on my bed, twisting around to face me. Here comes the heart to heart…

“Umm… Well… How are you holding up Robin?” Al said, looking distinctly awkward for once. Again I go the impression, he was dying to ask me something.

“Alright…” I replied. Here it comes, the moment he ‘gently’ breaks it to me that I will need to leave soon.

The hesitation on his usually confident face melted away, “Robin… well you see… If I have my way, you will soon likely be exonerated, free to go your own way and…”

Yup here it comes just watch. Once I am a free girl, he’ll be able to get me out of his hair.

“...And well, I was wondering, hoping really, that maybe… maybe you would like it if I became your dad. I mean if you were alright with it, I would like to adopt you,” Al said, voice full of hope.

Wait what!? I was reeling from the emotional whiplash. Adopt me! He wants me to be his daughter? I’m not getting discarded again?

How was I meant to sleep now?