Jared couldn’t say that the following two days were anything too great. Stress on his work, more and more needing care as their moods became unstable, and a general lack of using his old power fully was hitting him in full force. It had been fully understood that his healing prowess would disappear slowly from the moment he took on the new power yet Jared couldn’t help but miss it.

“You seem distracted,” one of the old ladies commented. “Where is Clara?”

“She’s…” Jared started but found his tongue turning to stone. What could he say? “I don’t know, Miss Floyd. She’ll come around someday.”

“I hope that day is today or tomorrow,” Miss Floyd responded with the tone only the oldest of women could pull off. That slight hint of arrogance, annoyance, and irritation at the youth could only be shown off by the oldest of the elderly. A passing thought reminded him that the woman would be passing into the nineties next week. Clara was meant to have baked her a muffin. “Frank in the other room has been getting hysterical all morning. Nobody can sleep with his screaming.”

Noting the muted noises through the wall, Jared went up from his sitting position. Making sure all the others were comfy, pillows not hurting any of their backs, the young man went to check on one of the harder patients in the elder home.

Frank was one of the more powerful supers. Clara had mentioned that the old man had been a Hero of some sort a few decades ago but Jared couldn’t remember the name. Seeing the old man, barely able to do much but groan in his medical bed, the young helper was almost feeling like being more merciful.

“How is it going, Frank?” Jared said with a cheery tone as he helped the deluded man sit up. The old man didn’t even glance at him with his wide eyes. Jared wondered if he could see anything real. “Is everything alright?”

“They are coming. The day is coming. The day has come!” the old man ranted. Even in his old age, the hands that found themselves on Jared’s arm were on equal footing with some of the strongest civilians. In another time, Jared would have had to call Clara to get him off. Not now, however. With a pulse of his new powers, the grip began to relax. “The day of reckoning is coming. We won’t live to see it happen.”

“Try to get some sleep,” Jared said, helping the man down on his bed again. It was perhaps a little too strong use of the power, the screen next to the bed giving very low vitals. They were about normal for what a regular man in his hundreds would have displayed but most powered people had a better fight to put up. Jared would need to keep a close eye on the man.

Even more importantly was the fact he needed to check on the power when he could. Even when he’d finally gotten it, there were still so many facets he needed to be sure of. The release of the different powers was always changed. While Jared’s own was constant, different emotions needed to be channelled. With the Healing, the man needed to be in a state of calm. With Clara’s… a desire to ease the soul. The loophole was that it wasn’t the target’s soul that needed to be eased.

Helping the healthy ones to sit at the table, he occupied them with a tabletop game while going into the kitchen to check on the food. He wasn’t entirely able to handle all fronts yet but a slow-cooking method seemed to work. At least now there were no complaints about the ashy taste anymore. Taking a quick test, however, Jared was reminded that he’d forgotten to put in salt.

At least he hadn’t forgotten the proper dosing for each bowl. Letting the elderly have their fill while Jared went around checking on those forced to stay in their beds, any requests of healing were fulfilled.

“My knee still aches,” one of the elderly complained after a round. “It usually stops when you heal.”

“Age hits all of us, I suppose,” Jared said, the Healing powers clearly on their way to being entirely gone. It would only be a day or two before he wouldn’t be able to make any effect at all. In a week more, the power would be entirely out of his system, never to be used again. “Let me know if you need anything.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Doing the round without issue, Jared nearly returned to the table with the rest of the people. Yet, a ring of the door was heard. Somebody had walked into the building’s entrance. Where some of the other workers early? Taking another route, Jared met a face that he’d only seen once before.

“Don’t even think of running,” a certain junkie said, shakily holding a knife pointed Jared’s way. With the amount of rust on it, there was little chance of anything good happening if the criminal started swinging it. Glancing to the corner of the room, Jared saw that a camera was pointed their way, being one of the few electronics in the building that worked. His time had come. “Where do you keep the money?”

“What’s going on out there, Jared?” Miss Floyd shouted from the table, able to see the helper slowly raising his hands into the air.

“Nothing, Miss Floyd!” Jared said, seeing the shifting looks on the junkie. “Just… an old guest. I’ll be with you all in just a moment.”

“Where is the safe?” the junkie questioned, trembling as he held the knife towards Jared. He was scared. More scared of using the knife than he was about not having the money. “Just show me where it is and nobody gets hurt.”

“That is completely fair,” Jared agreed, taking a few steps to create some more distance. The criminal responded by taking a few more steps. “Sir, you don't need to have the knife out. You just having it on you is enough for me to follow your word.”

“Why?”

“Because to the side is a group of people who will scream and shout the moment you take a few more steps forward,” Jared said. Some of the other elderly were twisting their necks trying to see who Jared was talking to, not able to hear his low voice from a distance. “If you just put the knife away, I can show you where the safe is.”

The junkie looked towards the door before looking back at Jared. He was shaking, tears nearly bursting from his eyes. At that point, Jared fit better into the image of the criminal. His pulse barely increased. Being calm and collected made for better television, after all, and waiting for so long meant he wouldn’t ruin the moment.

“... Fine,” the criminal said, stashing the knife in his pocket. “Show the way and I’ll be gone. Please don’t try to do anything.”

It sounded like literal begging. Assuring the elders that he would be back in a moment, Jared took the junkie to the break room, following the path where the cameras could see them. No chances were taken, frequent glances making sure the junkie was walking along. Some of the doors to the bed-ridden patients were open but no one noticed the dirty one walking down the hall.

Opening the door to the break room, holding it open so the junkie could get in, Jared pointed at the safe that sat in the corner. It wasn’t anything fancy with just a simple fingerprint scanner on it. There was little cash in it anyway, barely more than a few hundred bills. It was the last reserve if the eldercare home needed to buy food themselves for a few days. Nothing more than that.

“There’s the money,” Jared said, opening it up after the junkie took out the knife again. “You can take it all. Just don’t point that knife, please.”

“Thanks,” the junkie said as they filled their pockets with the bills, their eyes straining as there was nothing after that. “Where’s the rest?”

“That was everything,” Jared answered with little thought, taking a few more steps away. Glancing at the small pieces of kitchenware around, he could’ve put on a good fight. The camera inside the break room wasn't too high-quality, however. When looking at it a few days back, he had barely been able to see the room through the static. “There’s nothing else you can take.”

…

The junkie stared at Jared for a few seconds before getting up and out of the door. Jared followed along, as was his plan from the start. Instead of taking the roundabout way again, the junkie walked right into the eating area, clearly intending to leave the place as quickly as possible.

“He has a knife!”

And that was about everything that needed to be shouted before the criminal was on high alert, pointing it at the people eating. Jared took a deep breath as he flexed Clara’s power, increasing the anger and paranoia of the junkie. Without it, they would have done nothing. Now?

As a plastic fork lightly hit the junkie’s face, the arm with the knife was in full readiness to go into the chest of one of the elderly. Having the clear desire to aim for Miss Floyd, the previous owner of a said plastic fork, the knife was in full swing with a destiny of getting through to the old woman’s heart.

Jared couldn’t let that happen, of course. With a running dash, the helper tackled the junkie, both men hitting the floor with a hard thud. The junkie was more than ready to swing the knife at the new target but strong pressure on the forearm made the man scream in pain, dropping the knife and letting it hit the floor. A shove with the elbow made it fly across the floor, putting it more than out of reach.

“Everything’s alright,” Jared assured the elderly as many went out of their chairs holding their plastic cutlery. Putting the junkie on his stomach while holding his hands behind his back, the helper made sure to send in more emotion. With a twist of his power, the criminal was resigned to his fate, tears falling down his face. “Miss Floyd, could you reach the phone on the wall? I am a little preoccupied.”

“Of course!. Keep that grip tight,” Miss Floyd answered, dialling up the police in an instant. “Don’t let him escape.”

As if Jared would ever do that. As the police came along and held them down, the news crew was only a few minutes late. Things were coming together.