doubled_speed | For Wearingthestars

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For Wearingthestars

I wish I wasn't alone.

The words were whispered from inside the relative safety of the tiny closet in Tommy Shepherd's bedroom in Springfield, New Jersey. Whispered because there was no way that he wanted Frank or Mary, fighting in the living room, shouting and screaming, to hear them.

I wish I wasn't alone.

Repeated as Tommy held his hands out before him in the darkness palms up. He put as much conviction behind them as he put into anything he said starting with those two words. He had found rather quickly that whatever this power of his was, it came more readily when he framed it as a wish.

I wish I wasn't alone.

He repeated a third time. Three times always seemed to be the right amount when it came to willfully using his power. Even now he could see the faint green glow of energy radiating from his hands, trying to catch his words and shape them into whate he was asking for. At school he didn't always need it three times. He could feel the energy building in his gut like a tidal wave and crashing over him when he wished the bullies would leave him alone, or that he'd actually gotten a good grade so Mary wouldn't yell at him, or that the shirt that got torn up and bloody was clean so Frank wouldn't hit him for wasting good clothes.

Now, though, the words didn't seem to catch, and after a moment of held breath, the energy faded back, leaving behind only the briefest flash of sparks and static that he had to shake out of his hands. Apparently even magic, or whatever this was, couldn't help him.

It was a stupid wish, anyway, Tommy realized as he pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. And then, of course, he flinched at the sound of a breaking plate. They were getting bad tonight. He didn't want to be alone, not with them shouting like that. Sometimes it turned into Frank driving off to drink. Sometimes Mary stormed to their room and locked the door, leaving Frank on the couch. The former tended to mean Frank not coming home at all that night, and when he did the next day he smelled like booze and some other woman's perfume. The latter tended to mean Tommy couldn't sneak some breakfast in the kitchen before school, or being caught if he tried and he really didn't want to be on the receiving end of Frank's belt.

“Dammit. All I wanted was someone to talk to.”

He feels the rush of power even as he feels his body go limp and the world go dark around him. It’s a strange mix between a sneeze and passing out. When the sensation passes things are weird. For one thing, he can’t feel his body. There isn’t the cold of his room or the rough drag of his scratchy wool sweater that is too small for him or even the gnawing in his belly. No, there is just the swelling feeling of his magic, a prickly energy across his skin, and this place.

This new place is nicer than his room. There is more space. There are nerdy decorations on the wall. There are no cracks anywhere or dents from fists or broken furniture. He hates seeing how much nicer this place is than his home. But he is more interested in why his magic brought him here. And in the soft green light everything around him seems bathed in. Tommy raises his hand, or maybe just the concept of a hand, and is faced with the scary truth. His whole body is green and transparent. Okay. That is a bit weirder than normal.

Welcome, Tommy Shepherd, to the world of astral projection. And Billy Kaplan? Meet the strange, glowing ghostly boy in your room.

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"Good," Tommy answers. Because mutants hurting humans tends to get things to go badly. Like what Tommy just went through. He can only imagine the type of weapon they'd make out of his brother.

The guy was too nice to be in a place like that.

"...But I'm not letting them hurt you either." Not that he thinks they'd be stupid enough to try to in front of Captain America, but if they so much as tried...

"They can't hurt me anymore," Tommy answers, his voice a little dead. He's got barriers.

Maybe not physically. Billy nods though, and gives him a final squeeze before pulling back. "That's right," he agrees, trying for a sure and confident smile. They can do this.

And Tommy should know better. But he doesn't. Because Cap's back with a sandwich. Impressive too. Cut in half, so he hands half over to Billy.

"Would it be better if I didn't come in costume?"

"They won't care," Tommy shrugs.

For all his standing up to Cap, Billy's back to looking at the sandwich like a proper fanboy. He almost doesn't want to eat it. How many people can say Captain America made them a sandwich? Or...gave them part of one, at least.

"Thank you."

He frowns a little at Tommy's answer. It only colours his opinion of the Sheppherd's that much worse.

Geez, Billy. Chill out. Tommy rolls his eyes in true brother fashion. And then he relaxes and starts into his sandwich.

"No problem, boys. Teens always need a lot of food."

Fanboy's gotta fan. But Billy flushes, and tries to gain back some of the cred he'd earned in standing up to him.

He tries to pace himself with the sandwich, though it's still less than a minute before it's gone. That speedster metabolism leaves him pretty hungry, even with the feast of a meal they'd been gifted.

The food is pretty good and once they're through it Tommy bounces to his feet. He's all nervous energy now. Mostly because he's scared. He doesn't want to go.

"So, these portals of yours, how do they...?"

"Back," Tommy declares, slashing at the air. Green light follows the path of his hand and opens a circle of power, rippling with energy. And he sighs. "We walk through."

It's probably slightly less startling for Billy, but even he looks wary at the portal and the sheer power of it. He tries to push down whatever worries he has, offering Tommy a determined look, fingers catching at Tommy's hand. They can do this.

"...Let's go then," he encourages, stepping into the light.

The hand is good. Tommy nods and gestures for Captain go first. The man hesitates for half a second before stepping through. And Tommy hauls Billy through after him, just in time to hear a woman's voice yelp in shock.

"Who, what?" Mary Shepherd asks, almost dropping groceries she'd been pulling out of her car.

"Mrs. Shepherd?" Captain America asks, frowning.

Billy almost reflexively moves to try and steady her, though he stops short of actually making contact, knowing what a shock seeing the mirror image of her son should be, on top of them appearing out of thin air.

Still keeping a firm grip on Tommy, Billy offers an uncertain sort of wave at her, trying not to let his anger at them get ahead of it.

"I'm Mary Shep..." the woman says, but she must catch some of Billy's movement because she looks over toward them. And looks horrified to see him there.

And then her eyes move to the white of Tommy's hair, shivering at the gaze. Mary Shepherd blanches and backs away.

"What is he doing here?" she hisses out, clearly disapproving.

"Your son," Cap starts to say, but the woman shakes her son.

"I have no son."

Annnnnnd there's the anger. It's buried a bit at least behind a rather stunned look. Even with what Tommy's told him, and what he's implied, hearing her say those words visibly draws the colour from him, and his grip tightens a little, both to try and comfort and because he thinks he'll needs that anchor to keep his promise.

"Tommy," Captain America says, turning to look at him, gesturing for him to step forward.

"Don't," he says, his voice strained, Tommy trying not to run away. "They never wanted me anyway."

That gets Mary to glare.

"You were an ungrateful little brat," she snaps angrily.

There's a low rumbling, and one of Mary's side mirrors cracks, Billy fighting to keep still and keep quiet, openly glaring at her now. His gaze flits pointedly to Cap, praying for him to see that this was wrong. No one should speak to their child like that.

His hand clutches Tommy's tight, practically vibrating with anger. "Don't-" he warns, despite his instruction to stay out of it.

"We should all just calm down," Captain America is saying, and Mary is looking at them and shaking her head.

"No, I want that... that mutie freak gone!"

Tommy can't help it. Billy's not the only one angry. Sparks dance all over Tommy's skin, the charge out of his control.

Billy can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he holds firm to keep his feet rooted. To keep from doing or saying something just as cruel back to her.

"Cap-" he pleads. Subjecting Tommy to this is unfair.

"We'll just take his stuff and go then."

"I threw it all out," the woman says.

And that's what gets action. That's what's got sparks striking the ground as Tommy starts to hover into the air.

"You bitch," he snaps. "I barely even HAD things. There was so little that was MINE."

Oh- Oh no.

"Tommy-" Billy tries to draw his focus back, pulling gently. Much as she deserves it, he knows Tommy doesn't want to be painted as the monster, and lashing out at her isn't going to end well.

"She's not worth it-"

"I'm not worth it, I never was," Tommy snaps, his eyes glowing a vibrant green.

"We're leaving," Cap insists, moving to stand between Tommy and his line of sight of his mother. "Billy, can you...?"

Get him away. Now.

Away. Right. Of course, Tommy's proved by now that he has more than enough power to resist him if he wants to. Still, Billy attempts to use that hold on his hand to pull Tommy close, to get him out of here before he does something he'll regret.

He’s angry. So angry. And when Tommy feels Billy pulling him close, he lets the other teen do it.

“They look alike. It’s creepy,” Mary shudders.

“Don’t insult him,” Tommy roars angrily. “He’s more family to me than you ever were!”

"Come on-" Billy breathes, trying not to glare too sharply, and scoops Tommy full up and runs. They can find Cap again later. Tommy doesn't need to hear anymore of this. He doesn't plan to stop until they're well out of sight. He does allow himself to flip Mary off at a speed she probably won't see, a petty action, but one that makes him feel a little less like hurting someone.

When they stop Tommy just glares at Billy, pushing away from him.

"How could you? She... She was insulting you! That's not okay!"

No problems with himself being insulted? Apparently.

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