THOMPSON KNEW HE COULD no longer deny the danger that seemed to follow the boy wherever he went. Still he could not have imagined how wrong he had been about it all. The knot of guilt in his chest from the realization that he had spent the greater part of Santiago's first few weeks gaslighting his own charge. The boy's unwillingness to back down had forced him to try and work with what he thought were the boy's own delusions to guide him.
Santiago had been nothing but honest with him which drove the knife deeper into Thompsons gut for what the boy must have been going through. Trying to play the game and simply bury his pain to feed Thompson the answers that would let him go home.
After viewing the footage provided by Bennett as horrific as it had been to witness it put things into perspective. Rosenia was less surprised by it than Thompson was only watching with a solemn graveness that replaced the warmth in her cherubian features.
“It is worse than I thought.” Rosenia said, “I thought he was fractured, this is a full split.”
Bennett and Thompson shared a bewildered look with one another.
Rosenia sighed.
It was not something those without magic would understand. Most thought only of what the powers they had were capable of bringing forth into the world and thought little of what it could do to the one wielding it. In excess it could damage the body but there was another danger that only those with either immense powers or long lineages were susceptible to.
The powers themself were shaped by the wielder, their thoughts, their emotions, their physical body all played a role in how these abilities manifested. Even when a person was not fully conscious of their abilities, their powers could become reactive without conscious thought.
This was a fracture.
It was more often seen in children with wild emotions, little impulse control, and magic too great for their growing bodies. Powers would often run off instinct to protect them and their host from perceived threats. With training this uncontrolled response could be quelled and the fracture remedied.
Yet this was far more complex for those with externally acquired powers.
Powers were shaped by the wielder and every generation that powers were passed down they carried with them the remnants of the ones who held them previously. The same was true for powers taken from another. Without proper training to mend this fracturing it could lead to a break or a split.
A split was when the powers themselves formed a consciousness of its own independently of the witch they were being housed in. A being of raw power that could threaten to overtake a witch unable to maintain control.
“So these powers turn people into killing machines.” Bennett gaped at the woman.
“No, not necessarily. It is affected by the wielders as I said. Unfortunately for Santaigo he came from a family of soldiers. The Santiago’s were known for their physical augmentations and destructive entropic spells.” Rosenia shook her head, “That split is the embodiment of his family's warrior spirits dating back to his ancestors within the Aztec empire. It is doing what it was made to do, eliminate enemies.”
“So it saw those hospital workers as enemies?” Said Thomposn.
“Enemies are those that are not his people. Outsiders.” She said, “Given how embedded the boy was in his community it was likely why it stayed as dormant as it had all these years. It wasn’t until he was fully removed from it that it fully manifested past healing his wounds. In the mind of a split after being wounded so severely it was likely perceiving it as being held captive. It fought to break free.”
“Wes' threats against his mother stirred it up again.” Bennett said.
“It is a possibility. Now that it has fully manifested once, it is more likely to do so again. It will only be a matter of time before the medallion won’t be enough to keep it subdued.” She said.
“I don’t understand, if it wanted to kill everything around it, why did it stop that night?” Said Thompson.
“Splits tend to be task oriented. They are sentient but they don’t think the same way we do. They function around what they were designed to do. If Wes’s threat woke it up with the threat of Wes being gone it would have gone back to sleep.”
“So it wasn’t that woman that put him to sleep. It was when she took out the rest of the folks he was after that stopped him.”
Rosenia nodded.
“That means she knew about it enough to know what would stop him.” Thompson frowned, “Is there a way we might be able to learn who she is?”
“Eliana Calaveras.” Said Bennett.
Both heads snapped in his direction.
“She signed in to claim Santiago’s possessions after he was declared dead.” Said Bennett.
“That woman cannot be trusted. We have to keep her away from Santiago.” Rosenia said sharply.
Thompson scratched the back of his head, “That might be difficult. She is in the process of legally adopting the boy.”
“What?!” Said the others in unison.
“I’ve been asked to attend the court proceedings as Santiago’s therapist. She’s trying to take custody of him due to his mothers negligence and claiming next of kin.”
“Is she related to him?” Bennett looked to Rosenia.
“Not biologically. His father was adopted by the Calaveras when he was young.”
“So legally she is next of kin. Which is how he ended up in our care. She fought them on returning him to his mothers custody.” Said Thompson.
“With his mother still doing god knows what, she might actually win this.” Said Bennett, “What does she want with him? Why show up now?”
“Because his powers are in full bloom.” Said Rosenia, “Now is going to be the best chance anyone has of taking them from him. The longer one has powers the more difficult it is to take it against their will. The Calaveras lost much when Vicente left them.”
“Now’s their chance to get it back.” Said Bennett.
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The difficult part of therapy was acknowledging that improvement was not the only outcome. If it was easy to turn one's life around with a good attitude and spunk the world would be a very different place. Thompson could not help the disappointment of his young charges backsliding in behavior. Especially with the improvement Santiago had shown at school.
It was salvageable only if they addressed it.
This is where the problem lies.
Santiago lived in the moment. Never looking back or forward. It was a survival mechanism. Years under the care of a derelict mother and abuse at the hands of his stepfather made it near impossible for the boy to contemplate life outside of surviving each day.
It was no way to live.
In Santiago it bred little sense of remorse for his actions. His reactive tendencies and explosive outburst were usually washed away by the next one. Never lingering on anything long enough to contemplate the ramifications.
“Santiago, we need to talk about what happened.” Thomson began, his voice firm but compassionate. “You’ve made great progress and I am very proud of the positive changes you were making. But this fight with those boys raises concerns. Can you tell me what led up to it?
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“They were talking shit.”
“So that was it. They said something you did not like and you beat them in a parking lot.”
Santiago shrugged.
“What were you doing there in the middle of a school day.”
“Grabbing lunch.”
“School food not satisfying?”
“School food is fine, I didn’t eat because—” Santiago growled as he caught himself.
This was where the game of tug-of-war began. Thompson would give a tug and the boy would give a little then he would pull back. The therapist knew he had to keep pulling if he was going to get Santiago across the line and reveal what was really hiding underneath that cool facade.
“What happened at lunch?”
“Some kid bumped into me. Dropped my food. I got cleaned up. Got hungry later so I went to eat. That was it.”
“This student was one of the boys involved in the altercation.” That much was not a question Thompson knew from the tight set of the boy's jaw he was headed in the right direction. “You went to eat some time after lunch. I’ve already spoken with Rosenia about the fact that they followed you there. If you were defending yourself Santiago there is no shame in that.”
Santiago scoffed, “Those punkasses couldn’t have beaten me with a baseball bat if I was blind, deaf, and dumb.”
If it was not danger that pushed him then was it simply the ego of teenage boys with too much testosterone?
Thomspon did not believe that Santaigo would have let a couple of entitled boys goad him into a fight that would cost him what he cared for most dearly.
“You know this is going to be a setback in your case.” Thompson prodded. The boy was staring at him but was not really looking at Thompson. Santiago was someplace else and he needed to bring him back to the present. “Is getting emancipated still what you want so you can go home to be with your mother?”
Santiago glowered, his eyes flashed as he gripped the armrest of the table, “I won’t be. She’s dead.”
Thompson’s pen slipped from his fingers, “What? Santiago, when did this happen?”
This changed everything. Santaigo saw himself as her protector. His need to get back to her had been the driving force behind his willingness to heal.
“Rose said she died that night.” Santiago breathed, his eyes glazing over. “Trying to save me.”
Thompson froze.
That was right. If that was true that likely would have made the news with how closely the media was following this case. There was no way Guadelupe was dead without Bennett finding out about it. He would have told them.
Did Rosenia know something Thomspon did not or did Rose bold face lie to the boy?
If she had, Thompson could feel the heat rising up his neck.
The blow to the boy's already fragile mental state was going to be devastating. All the progress they had made had been centered around his desire to return home. Santiago’s world had been knocked out of orbit.
“Do you want to talk about that grief?” Thompson prodded gently.
“Talk about what? She’s gone. No amount of tears is gonna change that.”
“Are you still comfortable with remaining in Rosenia’s care for the time being?”
Santiago shrugged, “I don’t think they want me there.”
“Who? Rose?”
“No, some of the other kids. They’re afraid of me.”
“Because of the fight.”
“No, because I hurt Sylvia.”
“What?” Thompson frowned another thing Rose seemed to think he should not be privy to.
“She was trying to help me practice and—” He raised his pendant, “It reacted and sent her flying, hurting her hands.”
“That is not your fault, Santaigo.”
“If I was not there it would not have happened. How is that not my fault?” Santiago snapped, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath as he tried to steady himself.
There it was. The first crack in the wall between Santiago and the most vulnerable emotions he hid away behind it. He genuinely believed his presence in the lives of people around him was the root cause of all the bad things that trailed after him like a shadow.
“Did you enjoy hurting Sylvia?”
Santiago’s eyes flashed, “No! What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A pointed one.” Thompson said simply, “Accidents happen Santaigo, if we could stop all of the unexpected misfortunes in our lives then they would not be accidents. You did not intend to hurt Sylvia. You did not want to hurt her. You did not enjoy it. There is no reason you are at fault for this.”
“Furthermore, you assume that the other kids fear you. This is because they told you they feared you? Or you assumed that they would because you believed you were at fault and that they would think the same.?”
Santiago gritted his teeth, “I guess I assumed.”
“Now I cannot give you specifics due to doctor patient confidentiality but I do counsel the others in the house.” Thompson smiled, “None of them have made any negative mentions of you at all. So this assumed fear and animosity only exists within you Santiago.”
Santiago sat back in the chair, arms folded. It made sense how the man knew about this place. Thompson had given him a tour of the house. It never occurred to him that it was because he had not been the first kid he brought in.
“Not even Sylvia.” Santiago said softly.
“Quite the contrary.” Thompson said.
Thompson did not miss the flicker of a smile that had pulled at the boy's lips or the slight ease in tension. It eased him to know that he was still welcome within the house.
That was a good sign.
“Do you wish to remain in Rosenia’s home? I could make other arrangements.”
Santiago paused for a moment to contemplate. Knowing now that they did not despise him for what had happened was something of a relief. This house was not his first choice though he did not want to start all over again in a new one again.
“I can stick it out here for a little while. At least until I age out.”
“You want to shelve the emancipation.”
Santiago nodded. “I got no reason to rush anymore. Not like anyones waiting on me.”
“How has the difference in home life been?”
“About what you would expect living in the slums and moving into a mansion.” Santiago snorted. “I mean, it’s nice not having to worry about the bills or rent. Sleeping is hard. It’s too quiet here.”
“Aside from the hiccup with Sylvia your interactions with the others—”
“Okay.” Santiago said flatly, “They aren’t exactly the kinda people I would normally hang with. Khalil is cool people. Skylar is chill. Sylvia is…soft. And Mia is a bitch.”
Thompson nodded, taking up his pen making a note of Santiago’s colorful takes on his new housemates. “Mia and you seemed to have gotten off to a rocky start.”
“She’s snotty little—” Santiago bit back what he was going to say at Thompson’s point stare. “Witch. She’s been on me since day one. I didn’t even do anything to her.”
“That could be an opportunity. Maybe you could have a conversation with her to see what exactly is her issue with you.”
“I don’t care what her issue is with me.”
“So we cared about what they thought when it meant driving you out of the house but we don’t care what Mia thinks.” Thompson nodded.
“Shut up you dick!” Santiago shook his head with a laugh, “Okay it pisses me off that she’s got beef with me and I didn’t earn it. But why do I have to be the one to ask when she’s the one with the problem?”
“That is true.”
“So I’m right.”
“You are right, Santiago.”
Santiago dug in his pocket pulling out his phone. “Imma need you to repeat that one more time so I can set it as my ringtone.”
Thompson chuckled. “So let’s talk about Sylvia. The soft one. Is it a good soft or a bad soft.”
“Good. She’s nice. Very girly girl type.” Santiago shook his head, “Lots of pink.”
It was a good start to push the boy's mind to other things. Thompson had a clear idea of Santiago’s pain. He knew he would have to operate from a new perspective. He needed to hear what still sparked joy inside the boy.
Santiago’s friends were a pivotal part of the boy's life. They carried him through his most difficult hardships. He was enjoying his time making new bonds that much was clear. Santiago was sociable despite his surly demeanor.
Perhaps it was time to bridge the gap. Santiago’s old life had effectively died along with him. Everything in his world was changing. That did not mean that he needed to leave everything in his past behind. Carrying with him the hidden gems he had found along the way could be beneficial for the boy to start looking to build something new.
“Uh, I’m not sure they would vibe like that.” Santiago rubbed the back of his head, “My friends can be rough around the edges. They don’t always play well with others.”
“Which of your new friends do you feel is the most easily likable.”
“Hm,” Santiago looked up at the styrofoam tiled ceiling, “Sylvia, I guess.”
“Which of your friends do you think would like Sylvia the most?”
“Lola.” He snorted, she loved petite pretty girls like Sylvia.
“Perfect, then you should have the two of them meet.” Thompson said, “That’s your homework for this week.”
“Wait, you want me to—Lola is a fucking predator I can’t do that to Sylvia.” Santiago laughed. “Oh man, you’re killing me Doc.”
“How about this? You can call Lola and tell her you’re going to meet up with her or we can get a head start on our next session by delving into the layers of grief surrounding your most recent loss.”
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.” Santiago muttered as he dialed Lola on the phone.