Sanders is bored.

School is dull- over now, though, and then summer is even duller. Caden keeps things interesting, but even that adorable naive little sugarpuff can't maintain all his attention. 

Running, at least, isn't excruciatingly boring, and it's a good excuse to show off for the crowd, flex his inner performer a little, give everybody else a good idea of where they stand (the answer: so far beneath him he needs a telescope just to catch a glimpse of the little worms). 

He is so fucking ready to run.

Caden watches the runners line up, smiling at the proceedings. Sports are very, very distinctly not his thing (and couldn't get much more so without involving, say, venomous spiders), but Sandy's clearly enjoying himself a bunch, and it wasn't really that much trouble to come support him.

Besides, he did great on his exams! He's dating a wonderful guy in a semi-liberal area! The world is sunshine and rainbows and- okay, maybe more gloom and gloom and imminent dampness than sunshine, but he refuses to become any less cheerful.

Marcus sighs, looking up at the sky. Great. Clouds. The sky must share his opinion that this whole thing would be improved if it was pissed on.

He was going to go work a shift at the local Walmart- he donated the money he earned to the Against Malaria Foundation, it was just the thing to do- but no. Friends first. Why did he even have friends, they seemed kind of unnecessary, maybe he could just not. 

He shifts his gaze to the runners, discretely pocketing his phone- otherwise Caden would pout at him, and that was just a fate worse than boredom (or death, or arson, or a fine for jaywalking).

"Which one is yours?"

The guy behind Marcus must be talking to him, given just how much he has to lean forward to be heard.

"That's mine, Cora," he says of the girl currently shifting from a steady pace to a sprint.

"I'm not sure why you're getting so possessive," comments his friend, who waves vaguely at Marcus but continues to watch.

Marcus leans back. Nice and reciprocal that way.

"Sanders- tall blonde guy with an ego the size of Mount Rushmore if it had Frued carved in it, if you don't know him," he says, of someone who also happens to be steadily accelerating, who'd have guessed.

"Oh, he's good...single?"

The storm also appears to be accelerating, from the sound of thunder.

"Nope."

Overhearing this exchange, Caden, too, leans backwards in Jackson's direction. It's the latest trend.

"We're together as of a few months ago," he says, brightly.

"Too bad."

"Jackson, don't be an asshole. I know it comes naturally."

"I meant, good for you."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that first part, but do note that if you and him want to work something out I'm hardly going to object."

Was that a wink? He's only sort of looking in Jackson's direction (still has to keep an eye on the track), and it's pretty gloomy and getting darker fast, but that sure did look like a wink.

If Jackson had considered responding to any winks that may or may not exist, he isn't now. Hailstones the size of cats fall from the sky onto the track and the stands.

Jackson ducks, but there's nothing in particular to hide under, so he mostly just clings to Danny.

Most of the runners have joined in the panicking. Cora is scanning the stands for her friends.

Sanders was not expecting sudden giant hailstones, what the fuck- okay, no panicking, time to find Caden and get under shelter, Caden needs to not die by collision with ridiculous hailstone- who the hell needs to scan the crowd there's only one person that shriek could have come from- let's just sprint right over there why hello random person who is in his way you get to be on the ground now-

Caden, once he manages to stop screeching at a hailstone having landed two feet from him oh dear gods, sees Sanders coming in his direction, and tries to run toward him. And trips, having forgotten the existence of a seat below him. He lands on the ground, left arm first- this is not the time to get aroused by a severely bruised limb, ow- 

Marcus, having sat shock still from when he first saw cat-sized hail (his brain very helpfully labeling it 'kale, and twice as dangerous'), gets up from his seat at seeing Caden fall, scurrying very carefully down to help him-

"We need to find shelter. Inside, now."

He reaches down to help carry Caden.

Jackson runs to Cora's side.

Sanders reaches them shortly, and- he could totally carry him by himself but they need to get out of whatever this is fast and there isn't time for bravado- 

"No shit, Sherlock," he snaps rapidly, taking hold of Caden's legs- "Get his arms or something- it's okay honey- we're gonna lift on one two-"

Supplanted by people better at carrying things, Marcus is just going to stand here and- he should do something- he covers his head with his arms and starts walking briskly towards the great indoors-

Caden (who has turned ghost pale but doesn't, to internal assessment, have anything more severe than substantial bruising) responds to all this with wincing and not much more- he's a bit mentally-whiplashed for words.

Did someone say lightning? Here's some lightning! For Caden, for Cora, for Marcus...lightning for everyone.

Sanders, unfortunately, is an everyone.

What the fuck- that didn't even hurt, he feels fine- he feels better than fine, like he just had an energy drink laced with vodka and an erotic massage and worked out twice as much as he does and- okay, there's no fucking time for coming up with analogies, how is Caden was the lightning that struck Caden also some weird hallucination he's the only one who gets to hurt him-

Caden finds 'being struck by lightning, while mostly on the ground' a novel enough experience that he mostly resumes mental coherency. For about two seconds, in which he absently notes that his limbs have gone from feeling sharply painful to limp and pleasantly jelly-like, and smiles at Sandy.

And then he faints.

Marcus starts laughing, looking up at the sky. He doesn't feel any pain, but he was just hit by a lightning bolt- this would be such an absurd way to die, maybe he'll have a cool story to tell in the afterlife.

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die. If there was anywhere to run to, she’d already be gone, but she has to make sure her friends are safe. She half-drags Jackson the rest of the way. If Danny wants to sacrifice himself to help strangers, she’s not going to stop him.

Danny finds being struck by lightning upsetting, even if he’s miraculuously alive. He's trying not to think about it just yet. Presumably between him and Caden’s boyfriend they can get Caden inside?

Yup- not even really difficult, he's pretty thin and Sanders is very good at lifting things even when he hasn't been taking mysterious metaphorical lightning-steroids. Assuming nothing else happens they'll be inside in no time- 

With Marcus tagging along, recovering from his brief hysterical episode when he sees them coming by (though he still looks kind of inappropriately cheerful). He's somehow not dead. Yay.

They can get inside without fanfare. The storm has already stopped. The clouds begin to dissipate, and the sound of thunder has long since passed.

Unless Sanders objects, Danny takes Caden to a bench and lays him down there.

The second that Sanders is no longer touching Caden, he ceases to feel weirdly invigorated, and Danny instead has the privilege of mysterious strength and not!caffeine, which in turn ends when he lays Caden down. This is probably not the time to do experiments, but he pokes his unconscious boyfriend in the leg and- yeah, back again for a moment. His unconscious boyfriend seems fine aside from that adjective, in spite of having just been struck by lightning, and also serves as a performance enhancing drug. The fuck.

"The fuck," he says, out loud this time. "What the hell just happened. Did I miss a news bulletin saying 'the world is going to go completely fucking insane today, weather will be cloudy with a chance of huge-as-shit hail."

"We should stay calm. The storm already stopped, which means...which means something, I guess. Is everyone else okay?"

Cora nods, shifting from foot to foot.

"No doctors. Whatever this is, we don't need to get anyone carted off by men in lab coats."

"I'm sorry, what is this? A freak storm doesn't really seem like our problem. Leave it to Scully and Mulder."

"It's something, for sure. We should all go home, and deal with this tomorrow. Anything else looks suspicious."

"Sure. Not getting dissected sounds great to me." 

"Having my intenstine probed would really mess with my travel itinerary, I'd be devastated. So now I'm going to go home and wait for my boyfriend to wake up and then I am going to fuck him and then I am going to go the hell to sleep, whatever comes after that can come after that. 'Kay? Mark, your car-"

"I'll drive."

"You can't drive for shit."

"Do you really want to drive or do you want to molest my best friend in the back seat while he's temporarily comatose, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, sales are going fast."

"Fine.

Does anyone else have any non-vivisection related speculation they want to share with the class before I fuck off and pretend this fucked up shit didn't happen for the next half-day."

"Where are we meeting?"

"Somebody's house, somewhere at school before or after or during class, we could start a 'definitely nothing suspicious here, no sir' club or maybe a group chat, or have dinner at a fast food place- none of those are sufficient security if we already have government goons watching for weird behavior or something, I'm not really sure which is least suspicious if we're trying to avoid attracting government goons in the first place, houses are hard to listen in on casually but easy to predict and fast food places are the opposite..."

"Mark, we can just lurk in that nook in the corner of the library afterschool tomorrow and find something more permanent then, we don't need to draw out a plan in all seven colors of the fucking rainbow right now."

"You're colorblind anyways."

"I am not in the mood for your fucking bullshit today, Hanson." 

"Your loss.

Does 'library' sound good to everyone else?"

"Library sounds fine to us."

"See you guys tomorrow. Be careful."

"Don't get kidnapped by men in lab coats. Or regular coats. Don't get kidnapped, is what I'm saying."

Sanders snorts, and picks up Caden with ease- he feels that weird vodka-caffeine-steroid sensation again once he touches him, and it's actively pleasant now that he's a little more used to it- and both he and Marcus proceed to his car. Surprising no one, they get in it and drive away. 

The next day, Danny and Jackson await their newfound friends.

Sanders would probably dispute that categorization (possibly with violence) if he knew about it, but, thankfully, he does not. Truly, ignorance is bliss.

He, Caden, and Marcus appear in the library shortly after class hours end.

"Hello!" Caden chirps.

"So, that was completely ridiculous. Raise of hands: how many of you got hit by lightning and survived?"

Danny sighs, raising his hand.

"Cora will be here in a minute, she just texted me. Apparently she's got something weird going on, but she won't be specific."

Hand-raise.

"In terms of weird stuff it seems kind of relevant to mention that Sandy and I, uh, experimented a little yesterday- either I have a superpower or he has a superpower, whenever I'm touching him I get way weaker and he gets stronger and both of us heal much faster-"

"Do I want to know how you two found that out," Marcus interrupts, hand also raised.

"Well, first I tested out my weight set- could bench half again as much as normal- and then I took a carving knife and the whip I bought at-"

"Um, no you do not Marcus-please stop talking Sandy-"

"Sure, just had to ask, hon.

Even after a day, none of this makes any fucking sense."

"...I think it might be him. I noticed a weird feeling yesterday when I was helping you carry him."

"I haven't noticed anything weird yet. Hanson?"

"I woke up underneath my bed, but I have no idea if that's because gremlins kidnapped me during the night or if my dog just nudged me off it or something."

Cora joins them, walking briskly towards the group.

"I have superpowers. In case anyone was doubting what's happening. What do we do with that?"

"Are they any good? If everyone got superpowers except me, I hope they're not good."

"You really shouldn't say that out loud, Jacks. All I do is sprint really fast. What else do we have?"

"I haven't noticed anything yet, neither has Jackson. Caden has something, I think. Marcus, try touching him to check? If that's okay with you, Caden."

"Sure!"

Marcus pokes his arm. And blinks.

"That's a rush. Yeah, there's definitely- something. If drugs feel like this I know why people take them, wow." He ceases to maintain arm contact.

"It seems like we should do something systematized to check everyone for superpowers but if they're all- weird and individual, like touch-of-steroid and sprint-of-celerity- I don't see how we could."

(Sanders is mostly successful in suppressing his reaction to someone else touching his boyfriend outside of an emergency. Mostly.)

"We haven't seen anything mental yet, but someone could have that...Cora's power sounds like the kind of thing she would get. It fits her personality."

"I hope it's not based on that. Imagine what Jackson would end up with."

"You wound me. Okay, let's do this. Caden is useless unless someone is touching him, which means Sanders is staying on top of that. Cora is good for short bursts. Marcus, do you have any overriding personality traits or hobbies?"

".. you know what, I bet your power'd be the kind of x-ray vision that gives people cancer, you're very good at mental undressing people's boyfriends and then acting crabby," he says brightly.

Sanders sets a comforting hand on Caden's leg; this serves the dual purpose of exploiting his vodka-caffeine-steroid properties with plausible deniability. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that.

"Marcus is so fucking boring I'm amazed he doesn't start snoring whenever he looks in the mirror, I bet he can put people to sleep."

"Oh, yeah, I'm so dull I don't have any character traits or hobbies. None at all. I'm a regular anti-solipsist- everyone else is real and I'm just a figment of their imaginations.

I do sculptures and donate money and don't really do anything in my evenings aside from homework and reading, do those count."

"Any undressing stopped when I found out he was taken. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Of course not. You prefer guys who can stroke your ego, instead of their boyfriends."

"That counts," Danny says, ignoring everyone who isn't Marcus. Marcus seems like a reasonable human being.

"Charitable, artistic, polite but not dull- I'd guess something more subtle, like invisibility or even mental stuff like better processing speed."

"Caden, you're not doing anything when your boyfriend takes a hit, are you? It's all passive?"

(Caden kind of regrets what he said, it wasn't really kind or necessary or even true, it was just mean. He should try to be less tetchy.)

"Sorry for the insinuation, then. And none of it seems to involve me doing anything, no, he just- heals up. And vise versa."

Marcus is moderately flattered by those adjectives. It shows.

"I'm not sure how I'd try to turn any of that on. Maybe I'll suddenly turn telepathic when I next pet a cat, or something. What do you do for your hobbies?"

"Hacking. He was arrested when he was thirteen."

"I don't really do much of that, lately, and when I do it's strictly white hat. I might be able to do something with electronics, but general math stuff is just as applicable."

"Mine happens when I think about how much I like running. I don't think they'll all be that obvious, if Caden can't figure out how he's doing it."

"If mine was running while I was unconscious I really don't have the faintest idea of what could be going on there. Maybe I'm a very ebullient fainter. Sandy, have you noticed any changes-"

"No."

"Drat.

I wouldn't have expected you to be a hacker, Danny, but it suits you somehow, the mix of roguishness and intelligence- and goodness, we're talking about monochrome hats already, life really has turned into a sci-fi novel, next thing you know we'll be wearing capes and using codenames."

"Hard pass on the capes. I can pull off plenty of things, but not a cape."

"Is this a government conspiracy? I don't think we should plan like we're superheroes and not guinea pigs."

"I want a cape now, and how the fuck do we plan on being guinea pigs. Do we run away to Canada and hope that the FBI's doing jack shit to monitor us or what. Do we kill ourselves in the dead of night before they can get to us. Do we supplement our diet with hay. "

"Sanders' house is large and empty-ish."

"And like hell you're going in it after that time you fucked up my-"

"Jackson's house it is."

"Okay. Should we move there now? Cora and I can ride along with you guys and give directions- I'm assuming you took two cars, maybe I'm wrong."

"I don't see anything wrong with doing that! We took two- otherwise Marcus and Sandy'd bicker over who'd be driving every day, and I'd just get dreadfully distraught."

"If you spill anything on my seats I'm going to hunt you down and- bother you to pay for it, it was going to be metaphorical manslaughter, Caden, don't be so serious."

"Thank you for not saying it anyways.

Love you."

"Love you too, honey."

"And that's the other reason I don't ride with them. Let's go?"

"I'm with Sanders, Danny's with Marcus. Jackson can play with himself all the way home."

"That works for me. Lead the way, Marcus."

Jackson grumbles, but goes back to his car alone.

Danny and Marcus, alongside Sanders, Caden, and Cora, proceed to their respective vehicles (assuming no other interference), and, presumably, drive off.

There are no government abductions, (additional) freak storms, or other such surprising events.

Jackson lets them into his house, and sets out a plate of cheese and crackers."

"Marcus, we need to check you, Danny, and Jackson. All of you line up. Sanders and Caden, if you can manage 'quiet', there's a room upstairs, second door on your left to experiment in."

"Do you think we can manage quiet?" he asks Sanders, stealing a saltine. 

"If we try hard and believe in ourselves, maybe. And use an improv gag."

They start walking upstairs."We should probably try and see what your power is, while we're at it- wait, did you get struck by lightning? You didn't raise your hand earlier but I was assuming you were, I don't think we ever clarified."

"It seemed rhetorical, and I'm not going to raise my hand when told like a little bitch."

"I raised my hand."

"Yeah, because you're my little-" he's cut off my the door closing.

Marcus, ignoring this conversation, lines up as instructed.

As do Danny and Jackson.

"Powers look pretty different so far, there might be no way to test and get everyone. Marcus, you know them better than I do, is what Caden has the kind of thing you'd expect from him? Cora's seems pretty on-the-nose."

"I wouldn't call Caden's on the nose, but if I'd had to guess his power in advance I'd probably have predicted something that let him masochist it up, and I think his career plan was to be a veterinarian before all this happened- though I think Sanders was trying to persuade him that he could just be the unmarried equivalent of a house spouse- so the healing and passivity both kind of fit. I'd have also expected him to do something with plants, he gardens, but maybe he can pet petunias and perk them up, or something, that'd be consistent with his demonstrated powerset so far."

He starts thinking ineffectually mind-controlly thoughts- what was something innocuous- say the word 'beluga', Cora, you know you want to, c'mon, it's a great cetacean.

His ineffectual thoughts do not produce the word 'beluga'.

"Are you guys doing it?"

"We're doing it. There goes mind control. Good riddance, honestly, that would be creepy."

"I don't need to do these tests. I wasn't struck by lightning."

"Do we actually know that the weird lightning is what produces powers and not, say, some weird invisible energy field produced by the hail? Or maybe something unrelated is empowering people and someone with bizzaro weather control spazzed out- you should probably still do the tests."

"We don't. Sorry, Jackson. You're stuck with us."

"Mind-reading? Try listening, smelling, looking, use all your senses. I should test reaction time, but I'll need to surprise you for that. We'll do that one later."

Danny fails to read Cora's mind, or find anything exciting with his usual senses. He shakes his head.

Jackson grits his teeth.

Marcus tries, and fails, to read her mind, using assorted methods. Would've been kind of a crappy power anyways, ethically.

"Nope, nada, and nothing," he eventually reports.

“Right. I’ll go outside and we’ll check for heightened senses. After five minutes, I’ll come back. Let me know if you get anything.”

She turns into a blur of color and motion, vanishing.

They hear a thump and a string of curses from the front door.

”Five minutes!”

The door slams.

“Right. I’m making a snack. Want anything, Marcus?”

"If there's crisps and dip available I'd appreciate some."

Danny provides those. He sticks to cheese and crackers himself.

Jackson makes a valiant attempt to hear Cora from a distance or see through his walls, but none of his attempts work. He pouts, and doesn't take a snack break.

(Caden would have made a clever comment about him not having X-ray vision after all right about now, but he's kind of occupied at the moment. Sanders made a checklist and it is such a good checklist-)

Marcus absently snacks, and tries sensing Cora through the walls of the house and gets- nothing. Nothing. More nothing. 

"Not getting anything," he says between crisps.

After five minutes of nothing, Cora comes inside. She's holding three small rocks, which she throws at the boys' chests.

"Ow! What the hell?"

Danny throws his hand out, causing the rock to abruptly stop and drop to the ground.

"I guess I found mine."

"Ack- oh, you found yours, good," he says, rubbing the point of impact. "I wonder what that was- the reflexes, sure, but the thing with the sudden stop- force fields? Draining mechanical energy? Draining energy in general? With the thing you said earlier about hacking I wonder if it can be used on electronics, does anyone have a spare digital clock or something?"

"It doesn't feel like energy in general. I think it goes in both directions."

He holds out one hand and stares at the rock.

Marcus watches intently.

(Can he achieve his lifelong dreams? Can he accomplish such a herculean feat of endurance and stamina? Can he... move the rock?)

The rock moves, traveling a third as far as Cora threw it.

"Well, it's useful for stopping things, at least." 

Jackson attempts to move the rock in various dimensions. He tries to turn it into a flower, a dog, a lather rock. He tries teleport to the rock. He stews.

Marcus bites into another crisp, not particularly displeased with his failure to show any powers thus far.

Though. Come to think of it. He'd said it earlier as a joke, but ending up underneath his bed the day after everyone started showing powers was a bit of a weird coincidence. Not necessarily more than a coincidence. But still worth testing.

"I'm going to try napping to see if I turn intangible or teleport or something in my sleep, is there a good room for that?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right."

Jackson continues trying to find his power.

Danny experiments with the cheese and crackers; he doesn't have enough fine control to make them dance, but he can pull off pinball machine.

Marcus (ignoring the sounds coming from the room that Caden and Sanders are 'experimenting' in- they aren't quite inaudible, up here) goes into the room, shuts the door, sets a thirty minute timer on his phone, and his head hits a pillow.

Thirty minutes later, the timer goes off- and the whole world is dark- and he can't breath- he sits up- 

And the majority of his body seems to have melted into the bed.

Okay, so he does have a power. And is apparently a good guesser thereof.

He experiments, a little, and then goes downstairs, now fully corporeal.

"So apparently I turn intangible when I go to sleep and remain so until I stop intersecting with a solid object, that's fun."

“Are all of these powers useless? Maybe I should be glad I don’t have one.”

He continues to attempt to find his power.

Danny is cleaning the counter, which has pieces of cracker all over it.

”That sounds interesting. Is it kind of fitting but not what you’d expect? That looks like the pattern.”

"I mean, I'd have expected something cerebral or artsy or something, but 'stops interacting with the world at nighttime' fits too- I sleep like a log and don't party and quietly spend time at the library after my job, mostly- I guess I'm probably going to have to quit, if we're spending a bunch of time on this. Or it might just be 'stops interacting with the world when really relaxed', I guess, I should test that later, it'd be much more useful if I could get it to work by meditating or something."

A few moments after Marcus finishes speaking, Caden tromps down the stairs-

With Sanders close behind.

"My boyfriend can create illusionary fire and the world is wonderful and life is good," Caden chirps very rapidly, plopping on the couch.

“...how- no, I don’t think I want to know.”

“I’m guessing it’s still painful?”

“Danny can move things, but not in a useful way. Marcus falls through his bed when he sleeps.” 

"It is," he enthuses in Danny's direction. 

Sanders pats his adorable boyfriend- you know what, he's just going to set a shoulder on his arm and keep it there most of the time, it's not like he's going to mind.

"You know, all the others make maybe half of a sense altogether, but I want to know which mad government scientist decided that 'immune to mattresses' was the way they wanted to spend their grant money," he remarks. "If any of those fuckers are listening in I want them to know that I'm very dissapointed in the way they're spending my tax dollars."

"Even if we're looking at government funding behind the storm, there's no way the specific powers were planned. They're all personal and useless."

"They're not useless if you get creative. We should find out if Caden can boost powers. Can Sanders make more fire? Can I move bigger objects?"

"Still nothing," Jackson reports, valiantly resisting the urge to pout.

"I'd love to enhance people's powers, but even without that I feel pretty useful- if nothing else I could probably poke people in hospitals, if we didn't have to be discreet. Um, can I touch your arm, Danny? Or acquire general arm touching permission to be revoked as you please, since this sort of situation seems likely to come up often."

Danny offers his arm, although he can't help looking at Sanders first.

"Go ahead."

(Jackson tries another angle.)

"I can't even run anymore if we try to keep this secret. Stupid storm."

Caden touches Danny's arm-

And Sanders looks annoyed and vaguely threatening, but not immediately inclined towards interpersonal violence! 

"I can't complain, my power isn't particularly inconvenient to keep secret. Even if it's also verging-on-useless," Marcus says to Cora.

The boost has no effect on Danny's powers; Sanders has even less to worry about. Danny retracts his arm.

"It's probably for the best. Imagine if we all had to hold hands to use our powers."

"Still nothing. If I'm the only one who didn't get powers, I'm demanding a refund."

"A refund from the storm."

"Illuminati, Department of Energy, lonely mad scientist, whatever."

"I'm tentatively a fan of whoever or whatever did this, and am unlikely to wave any reciepts in their face saying that I definitely didn't use this sweater, ignore the cat hair, pretty please take it back wink wink- I've been having a delightful time so far with it and expect to keep doing so, leaving aside the inauspicious start."

"Everything's sunny in Philadelphia until the Illuminati harvest your internal organs."

"No, I'm pretty sure my Caden would enjoy that," Sanders says, having resumed his possessive arm-on-shoulder arrangement. Vodka-caffeine-steroids are the best.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Marcus deadpans. "You've brought up your sex life yet again. Glory in the highest."

"Sorry, Marcus. And I'd almost certainly just faint, really, I do that easily enough whenever I'm sufficiently shocked and injured."

"You guys do bring it up a lot. Is it that hard to avoid innuendo or do you kink on it?"

"Danny, watching Caden and Sanders act out softcpre porn gave me an idea- can you use your power on people? So far you've only tried small things, but it's worth testing."

"Telekinetically throwing people isn't good for the people."

"People were being a bit, um, unpleasant about it when we first started being coupley in public, and I think that we've gotten into the habit of rubbing their noses in it in response, and in doing so cultivated bad habits, it's just instinct at this point... also, this is super awkward in the context of 'trying to do less innuendo' but I probably wouldn't mind being telekinetically thrown and it seems worth testing."

"I don't think I'd call it telekinesis, I don't really have fine control. As long as Sanders doesn't mind, we can test things. Does it help if he watches and we clear everyone else out, or is the problem still that I'm doing it?"

"I don't really give a fuck how many people watch, and yes, I really fucking hate other people touching Caden."

Caden gives him a look.

"... but for the purpose of 'can whatever-the-fuck-it-is-if-it-isn't-telekinesis testing occur' I don't mind, honey."

Danny does something.

Caden doesn't feel anything.

"How anticlimactic. 

"That's three and half useful superpowers. What are we doing with them?"

"I think you're too big. Maybe I could do something if you were already moving...it might not work like the rest of physics, who knows."

"If we're being watched then we lay low, if not we- steal shit? fight crime? and if we want to know if the Illuminati are looking through our windows then we have to find out what the fuck is going on-"

"So our first step is gathering information."

"Jackson's dad is a lawyer; assuming he's not involved, we can get him to go to bat for us. My parents are rich, but useless. Cora's can't help. Other than that, we don't have a lot of leverage."

"Someone should go to the hospital, find out if anyone is showing any superpowered symptoms. We'll need to watch the regular news channels for anything suspiciously vague. Cora, your dad is a professor, right?" 

"History. If there's a government lab with a failed science project, he can't help us with that."

"My parents run a bookstore together, that seems unlikely to be of assistance- I could maybe ask my uncle for help if we want to do something illegal but I don't think we want to involve him otherwise- Sandy's grandparents are wealthy but kind of demented, and Caden's parents work at the same Walmart I do," Marcus summarizes.

"I volunteer for investigating the hospital!" Caden chirps.

"I'll go with," says Sanders.

"Sanders, you aren't exactly inconspicuous- you're going to stick out like a sore thumb that also happens to be a member of the medieval Norse pantheon."

"Then you can go- if government agents swoop in you could ineffectually slap them with a rubber glove, or maybe they'll be intimidated by your desperate cries for help."

"I don't even own a rubber glove. Why would I own a rubber glove."

"So you could f-"

"Sandy. It really would be for the best if you didn't accompany me for this, Marcus stands out less, and you don't need to be impolite about it."

"Fine, honey."

"Thank you, Sandy. Love you."

"You're welcome, and love you too. 

Don't get kidnapped by men in black or I swear to fucking God-"

"I won't."

"You know, I like to imagine that my representatives wouldn't have me kidnapped and dissected because of something beyond my control. Just a thought."

"That's because you couldn't see a conspiracy coming from a mile away- even if they were holding a bright neon sign saying 'hey, fuckers, we're here to probe you!' you'd probably say 'well, we should really be charitable, maybe it was a typo or something'."

"Orthographic errors are no laughing matter."

"Ha. Fucking. Ha."

"If we're aiming for diplomacy, I think I should go with Caden and Marcus, as long as Jackson can promise not to antagonize Sanders."

"How about a pinky swear?"

"Sanders, you, Jackson, and Cora should divvy up other stuff- watching the news, setting up funding for whatever we do next, and more powers testing, if you have time."

"Sure. Does powers testing involve setting people on fire, and, if so, can the test subject be Jackson."

"Honey, you're ruining all my fun."

"Whatever, no fire testing. I can concoct plans to siphon money from my grandparents and shit- wait, I already have one, it's 'I walk up and say 'hey grandma can I have a small business loan' and she goes 'la di de di do di da' and then I go 'kay thanks'. Watching the news it is."

"Would my car work for going to the hospital?"

"...sure. That sounds good."

To his car they go.

"I'm sorry about my friends."

"Ditto."

"Should I be offended by that?" Caden wonders lightly.

"Nope."

"Oh, good, I always hate being offended, it's so unpleasant."

The car pulls out out the driveway.

"How much of a problem do we have if Jackson keeps antagonizing Sanders?"

"Um. I can probably keep him from resorting to actual violence on the grounds of 'it would make me sad', but he's still going to make disagreeable comments? Jackson isn't really being that antagonistic, if he escalated my stern looks might cease to suffice."

"Jackson tends to escalate when he's feeling insecure. I'll try to manage him. If our powers are as convenient as they look and there's no government conspiracy, what are we doing? Vigilantism seems a little inefficient, but I'm not sure we have a great distribution of powers for anything really big."

"If it turns out that we don't have to worry overmuch about the government 'go around patting people in hospitals seems like a decent plan for me- and a positively delightful one for the people in hospitals- Marcus, do you have ideas, this is more in your domain-"

"I've ever had an idea."

"No, really, I never would've guessed-"

"I know, it's astonishing.

The most that's coming to mind is 'make a bunch of money as magicians/doctors/whatever, donate it,' 'be vigilantes', or- we could probably do something of interest politically if we decided to become public figures, I guess- and we'll probably end up doing a mix."

"Caden's seems most useful for general do-gooding. Everything else has to be applied right. I do know my way around a computer, if we end up needing...semi-legal skills."

Marcus nods.

And, in due time, they reach the hopsital.

The hospital is swarming with nurses, doctors, and assorted worried family members. There were several injuries from damage caused by the sudden, completely unexpected and short-lived storm. Going unnoticed won't pose a problem.

Grand. Caden is such a fan of the absence of problems.

"I don't suppose that anyone has any plans superior to 'wander around the hallways looking very important, text each other if we find anything odd?" he says, as they lurk near the frantic waiting room.

"That's pretty much what I've got, yeah."

"Same. Time to disperse?"

"I think so."

And lo, disperse they do.

The hallway is full of stressed out nurses who ignore the strangers entirely. If this were a different day, someone might question their presence. As it is, no one has the presence of mind to do that.

If Caden is looking into patient rooms, this one looks unusual.

Caden is, in fact, peering into patient rooms! Funny how that works out.

It looks unusual because it's covered in green slime. It has no scent, but it fluoresces under the artificial light.

The doctor in the room is covered in it, and is having some kind of anxiety attack.

He is- not going to faint, it's not the time, but dear heavens that is disturbing and he feels kind of dizzy anyways- is the slime eating the doctor, should he call for help- no he's probably just producing it as an superpower thing- okay. Should he call other people- no, this could be urgent and he barely knows where he is in the hospital anyways-

"Um, sir? Do you need any help or would you prefer for me to go away?" he asks, in case this results in a meaningful reply and not hyperventilation. 

"I- I- what? I- where did it all come from? Was it in the walls all this time have we been breathing it? Get back, we need a quarantine..."

The patient on the bed is also covered in slime, and not moving.

Is the patient dead is the patient dead is the patient dead- he can probably help but only if they aren't dead- medical professionals manifesting slime powers is a much less concerning circumstance when they aren't potentially killing people at that very moment- not a very helpful train of thought- he's just going to obligingly step back and do his best not to seem upset. What would Sandy do- okay, he should probably not do what Sandy would do- what would Marcus do- try to calm him down, first. 

"Sir, there've been a number of incidents of this type- sudden outbreaks of unusual quantities of exceedingly unusual materials- throughout the city, though this one seems unique in execution. I have what should function as a cure to any of its deleterious effects, provided it isn't instantly fatal; since it clearly isn't immediately fatal via gaseous exposure, I should be fine for now. A quarantine isn't necessary at this time- please remain calm. Your patient seems to be experiencing more of a reaction to the fungus than you are; if you could, um, drag them to the door so that I may administer the involved restorative, I would be much obliged."

"I- but- I don't-"

He touches the patient, hands shaking. The slime from the walls and on the patient shake and, with a loud slurping sound, flies through the air towards the doctor. Any bits of slime that might have hit Caden instead swivel away in midair, joining the funnel of swirling slime as it surrounds the doctor. His screams cut off as the slime fully covers his body.

The patient on the bed remains seemingly dead, but otherwise slimeless.

What. 

What.

- he is not fainting- okay he is maybe fainting a little- and then potentially being eaten by- no he is not fainting- did the doctor just get- is the patient astral projecting as a cannibalistic slime monster- should he touch the patient- no he shouldn't look at what happened to that poor soul-

He should really do something brave but he is instead going to run full speed down the hall, shrieking.

Nurses watch him suspiciously! Some run past him to the formerly slime-covered room.

He would warn them about the slime monster, but he's a little busy being terrified out of his wits, thank you very much, please call again later.

Several hallways later, his bansidhe imitation wavers to nothing, and he ceases running, leaning against a nearby wall, taking out his phone, and calling Marcus. Ring, ring, ring-

"Hey?"

"I found something!" he says, faux-brightly, a quaver in his voice.

"- what happened?"

"There was this- I saw a room with a- there was slime all over the walls, and the person looked dead, and the doctor was panicking, and then the doctor was consumed in an algic vortex that may have been some sort of weird astral projection. And then I ran away shrieking like a five-year old girl who'd also been lit on fire."

"... I guess that shouldn't really surprise me."

"I can't actually see whatever dramatic expression you're making to accompany that meaningful pause, you know. This isn't Skype."

"I do know that perfectly well. A man just- take this seriously, please."

"That's my line, but sure- and we should call Danny. "

"I was going to ask for his number but, um. I rather figured it wouldn't be appropriate."

"And I was kind of busy napping, yeah. We can probably find him somewhere in here."

"In good hope, I suppose. I'll call you if I find him?"

"Sure."

And they commence searching.

Danny is not hard to find. He's having a whispered argument with an orderly in the hallway, which he abandons when he sees Marcus approaching.

"Hey. Any luck?"

He absently takes out his phone and texts Caden their hallway number when he sees Danny.

"Define 'luck'. Caden called, said that he saw a doctor get eaten by a slime storm- at least I think that's what an 'algic vortex' is, he probably wasn't talking about the language family- and that there was a dead guy involved."

"That's awful news, but I guess it's more than we knew before. Is it spreading?"

"He didn't say."

"Text him and let's go. We shouldn't be here when they find the body."

"- you know, I didn't even think of the possibility that we might become murder suspects, huh. Yeah, I'm on it."

He texts Caden (-change of plans, just go to the car-), and starts briskly walking towards the front.

No one stops them. Everyone is a little distracted by whatever's happening with the green slime? One nurse is excitedly calling a reporter.

And so they uneventfully reach the car- Caden is only about thirty seconds behind them- and they drive away, with Caden elaborating on the details of his horrifying little escapade as they go.

"It looks like we were all pretty lucky. I wouldn't really call that a superpower."

"No kidding."

Drive drive drive- that sure is an awkward silence- drive drive drive.

They arrive at Jackson’s place.

“Turns out not everyone got something good out of the deal.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently not all powers are voluntary.”

"I mean, we already knew that Caden's and mine were less 'on demand' and more 'public television', but this went all the way past that into being that cursed cassette from The Ring, from Caden's description. Uh, Caden-."

"I looked into one of the rooms and it was covered in slime, with the patient inside it looking dead and the doctor having a panic attack, and and I asked the doctor to bring the patient over to me so I could, um, poke him, and then then when the doctor touched the patient all the slime in this room swirled around him and- ate him? Maybe? And then I ran away and we got in the car and drove back here," he summarizes.

(Sanders is just going to administer petting to his upset boyfriend, whilst valiantly refraining from saying 'I fucking told you I should've come with'. Not the time.)

"We didn't find anything that interesting on the news. It looks like if anything did get out, it's being covered up."

"So we're on our own. It doesn't really change anything. We need to get started. Is it worth it for any of us to spend time on vigilantism?"

"Well, there are different kinds of vigilantism- we should probably be prepared to help out if something weird happens, but I don't really want to try napping on bank robbers."

"I could always-"

"You are not illusorily burning non-consenting bank robbers, Sandy."