Laurie Collins – "Seen But Not Heard"
My codename, 'Wallflower' - it was the sort of thing that had a double meaning.
My powers involve using pheromones to change people's moods and mindsets when they breathe them in. But... my name is also a thing because I'm shy and kind of passive.
Being in the New Mutants helped that, but between myself, Josh, David, Sofia, and definitely Nori, I'm the least bombastic by far. The only reason Jay isn't lower than me on the list is because he always excluded himself. Either way, I'm always the one least likely to cause trouble. It was just safer that way. If I got anyone's attention, who was to say it wasn't because of my powers?
My powers... can control people. Dr. McCoy and my advisor Dani, and everyone else tries to make it sound better by calling it things like 'influencing' or 'persuading', but it is what it is. I make people feel things that they don't really feel. I make them think things that they otherwise wouldn't be thinking. I could make people fall in love with me, do anything for me, if I wanted to.
After all, that was what happened to my mother. That's why I'm around to begin with. Interpret that how you will. But as good as I was at trying to be seen but not heard, there wasn't much I could do when someone came to school specifically for me. I'm talking about my father, the man I got my powers from, the famed therapist Dr. Sean Garrison.
The man had become a counselor at the school I was attending. Okay, that was fine. Unless I did something dramatic, I probably wasn't ever going to have to see him.
Oh, they made seeing him mandatory for participation in the X-Men training squads? Okay, no problem. With all of the fires going on around school at any given moment, and all the real business the staff had to attend to, I managed to slip through the cracks on that one.
He wasn't even there every day. More like two or three times a week in between his other business. I was able to dodge him for months, until he started reaching out to me. Never in person though, which again, was easy enough to ignore in theory, but it was stressful, especially when the requests to talk became more frequent. By the time Christmas break got close, I was super-anxious. So anxious, I finally caved and talked to someone about it. But it wasn't any of my friends, it was my team leader, Bellamy.
Bellamy was nice enough. He could be grumpy and sarcastic, but none of us really disliked him. He was a good guy, and he always helped out whenever he could. Plus, it wasn't like I was close to him, so he would tell me what he really thought and wouldn't automatically jump to defend me to the death the way the rest of the New Mutants would have. Even so, I still didn't tell him everything, just enough to get his viewpoint. But he did say something that stuck with me.
"Just remember, you're not saddled with someone forever because you share genes. Family can be a choice too."
We weren't close, like I said before, but that was exactly the kind of answer you would come to expect from Bellamy if you knew him at all. As much as he insisted that people around him learn from his mistakes, I decided during Christmas break that I would take a page out of his book. When school started up, I would confront my 'father'.
It was high time that Sean Garrison, the man that had never heard the word 'no', learned once and for all that he couldn't always get everything he wanted.
Ruth Aldine – "Blindfold's Journal"
She is strange. The way she speaks, how she reads minds, all strange – sorry. She knows because they tell her so, yes. They tell her all the time. It wasn't surprising, either, no. Pardon, she saw it – all of it – before she was enrolled. She saw the isolation, heard the whispers from others, felt their discomfort with her. Felt her own sorrow over all of it, well in advance, before it all ever happened. Because of who she is, pardon, and what she can see.
When she sees the future, it isn't always a guarantee, no. Predicting possible futures is never perfectly accurate, since a reality must diverge in order to create alternate futures. There is always some divergence; sometimes small, sometimes large. Some things she sees never occur, because simply the act of being aware of them alters them. Some things she sees are vague and undefined. Sometimes, she sees entire events played out as if she is there.
It's scary... yes. Because sometimes it can be hard to distinguish the difference between what's real, and what is a potential future.
But there was always a chance, yes. There was a chance that things would improve, yes. That she would find friends, yes. That she would meet him.
Bellamy.
In the future when she saw him, she felt warmth. He protected her, accepted her, helped her... cared for her. Yes. The first person other than her aunt, since her mother, to truly care for her. And when she realized that this was the one where he existed, when she finally knew that she would meet him, finally did meet him, he was just as she had seen him to be.
Pardon, no matter what poisonous thoughts he had of himself, he never let her down. No matter how she felt about herself, or how others saw her, he always supported her; always believed in her. Yes, always. She is his 'little sister'.
One day, pardon, she dropped her notebook on the floor after class, "The fuck is this?" Eddie asked, looking down at it when it fell open, "These aren't English lit notes, Blindfold. I... don't know what this is, actually."
She didn't say anything, no. Not to Eddie. She knew that he didn't like her powers, didn't like hearing about the future, didn't like having his mind read – sorry.
Bellamy came over to take a look over Eddie's shoulder at her book, "Huh..." He knew, yes. She could see it, pardon. So smart, "I'm thinking this is where Ruthie writes all of the shit she doesn't tell us."
Bellamy smiled at her, yes. She could see it in her mind's eye, feel his caring intent. She always feels better when he does that.
"When did you learn how to read braille?" Eddie asked. He's so skeptical, thank you.
"I've been comparing school notes with a blind girl for a year," Bellamy answered, "Braille's not that hard to learn, dude," Yes, much easier to learn things when you never sleep, Bellamy. Yes.
Eddie put the book into Bellamy's hands and stepped away, "Well, fuck. Get this thing away from me then. I don't need to see my death date."
That is not what she uses her journals for, pardon! That's not how precognition works either, Eddie, yes. Besides, that already should have happened months ago, sorry. Now she cannot see your death.
No, the future is fluid – never set in stone.
"I'm pretty sure knowing about the future alters it, or something," Yes, Bellamy. See? So smart, "Or doing something different enough changes it. I dunno. I haven't seen Butterfly Effect in a while."
Ah, now Bellamy was going to watch Buttefly Effect after classes.
Eddie snorted, yes, "Ashton Kutcher is your go-to for time travel facts? You should probably talk to Rachel Grey or some other time-traveler about that..." Ah, pardon, he wanted to bring up Riddick, but didn't, no, "Still, what's the point of reading it now then if she isn't going to tell anyone what she saw?"
Because... it's hard, sorry, to keep everything bottled up inside. There are so many times she wants to say everything she knows, yes. She wants to help. But people don't like that, no. No, they saw her as an ill omen, that because she only told them about the bad things to warn them, being around her caused the bad things.
But Bellamy; he never blamed her for what she saw. He helped her express herself, find an outlet. He took her words to heart. He listened to her, yes. And so many things changed because he tried to understand. Did they change for the better or the worse? Well, sorry, she cannot see that yet.
Bellamy let out a laugh as he read what she wrote about an alternate timeline where the school was a prison secretly training assassins. She was thankful that was the one he landed on, yes. Some of the others would have been embarrassing for him to see, thank you, "I dunno. Some of these are really interesting stories. We could probably sell these. A collection of short stories or something."
"We could?" Eddie asked, getting excited.
"Oh, not 'we'," Bellamy clarified, "I mean Ruthie could sell 'em."
Eddie slid next to Bellamy and elbowed him in the side, "You don't want a piece of that potential action? Eh? Eh? It being your brainchild doesn't warrant a cut for the big boss?"
No, pardon, Eddie. Bellamy was revolted at the thought of taking my journal for his own gain, "It's not me getting unsolicited future shit shoved into my brain all the time, so I don't deserve a piece," He said, continuing to read, "Yeah... find someone to clean up the writing a bit, change the names, take some creative liberties, and I think you'd have something here."
She could see it. Dozens of outcomes for this. Hm. She would have to remember the right combination of decisions to make. Publishers... editing decisions...
No. No. No. No. Maybe? Mmm, no.
No-no-no. Too much to decide on now. Too many bad outcomes, catastrophic even in some cases, thank you. Must not rush.
Eddie laughed, "Did you seriously just find a way to monetize Blindfold's precog powers?"
Bellamy shrugged and wrapped an arm around her. Always warm, always comfortable, yes, "Hey, we all need a come-up. The lottery idea didn't hit, but this seems like a pretty damn good substitute," He closed her journal and handed it back to her – thank you, "Well, what do you think, Ruthie?"
She thinks that she loves you, yes. Very much. But, pardon, you already knew that, didn't you, Bellamy?