October 13, 2009

The mellow, rainy afternoon marked the beginning of a new time, though no one was thinking about it, or its consequences then. The hospital where is all happened was respectfully silent, many either in shock or in mourning, nurses exiting the delivery room with their heads down and hands clasped. 

Eleanor Fitzgerald was dying. 

She held her final child weakly, but with a passion in her arms, turning away from anyone who tried to take him from her, including her pale husband. He didn't really want anything to do with the baby right then anyway, so he touched his wife's hand instead, and held on. 

"Parker," Eleanor whispered hoarsely to him, shaking, "Parker, I can't die like this yet, I can't... the children need me..."

"It's fine, it's fine," he murmured to her. "Don't worry about it right now." 

Eleanor looked up at him, her brown eyes hollow and confused, then down at the baby. She nudged him closer up to her face. 

"He's so small," she mused quietly. "You need to promise to take good care of him, especially with what's been going on recently." 

Parker straightened his back slightly. He was aware that just outside, out in the city, the news of his wife's eminent death was spreading, but not only to the people who were saddened by the news. Opposition organizations were beginning to heat up, aware that this was their chance to start something new. Without Eleanor, the Underground was starting to fall apart. 

The Fitzgerald family had a very long, complicated history. During the early 19th century, they had been the ones to found what was known as the Magical Equality Organization, which many doubted in, of course. Magic is myth. Supernatural powers are fake, or for children's stories. But it was Harold Matthew Fitzgerald III who noticed the unique, long-running streak of mental health disorders within his family line, his relatives all being diagnosed with incurable diseases of the brain, put into asylums and hospitals for the insane. 

But there was something that didn't add up. He knew these people, and knew that they weren't insane or crazy, just that Cousin Daisy could blow people's heads up by making them think too hard, or that Uncle Jester proved he could hear animals talk. 

The goal of the organization was to bring these special people together, and save them from fates that they didn't deserve, with even a boarding house for unique children being created in the 1960s. Over time, the collective people became huge, with leaders working within the governments of many different countries, and consequently the news of many hospital kidnappings and prison breaks were reported around the world. 

However, not everyone used this discovery for good, as with everything in this world. In the early 2000s a new... threat per say, not to be too dramatic, made its presence known, run buy a fiery red-headed young woman with an anger issue. Attacks on the MEO were made, along with inside job kidnappings from within Mairvelle, the children's boarding school. A couple of members of the Fitzgerald clan were either murdered or abducted, leaving Parker with a nagging worry as he sat with his wife in the delivery room. He prayed that the rest of their eleven children were being closely guarded back home at their manor, now that their sudden vulnerability was being spread all around. Scarlett was smart, and he knew she would use this as an opportunity. 

"Mummy?" A small voice drifted from the doorway, shaking Parker from his anxious thoughts. "Mummy, I want to see you!"

Parker immediately sprinted to the door to block his slight, ten year old son from coming in, leaving Eleanor to whimper in concern behind him. 

"Nicholas, no, you can't come in right now." 

Nicholas tried to butt his head between his fathers legs. Parker gritted his teeth in frustration. He'd forgotten that Nicholas was even at the hospital with them, but was very quickly remembering the temper tantrum when Mummy needed to leave, the fight about not being allowed to wear his sister's heeled boots, and the Ferrari setting on fire because they weren't able to bring his personal nanny with them. 

"Let me see her!" Nicholas looked up at his father, and clutched the pockets of his pants. "The nurse said that Mummy's sick." 

"That's right, so you can't-" 

"I can make her feel better," Nicholas insisted, his bright blue eyes glittering in concentration. "I can make her mind change, make her happy!" 

Parker stared down at him, still irritated, but suddenly hit with a deep sadness. "It doesn't work that way, I'm afraid. You can't fix her, Nicholas." 

Nicholas swallowed hard, lips quivering, but they were both quickly distracted by Eleanor's soft voice from within the delivery room. 

"Parker? Let Nicholas come and see me."

For a moment, Parker saw his son smirk, but then pushed past him and ran to his mother's bedside. Parker closed his eyes for a moment. He was fond of all of his children, of course, but Nicholas was something else. He had never bonded with him, thought Nicholas never really bonded with anyone. He was too dark and mature, even at such a young age, for anyone to connect with him, and he had the unapproachable features of an angel; everything perfectly sculpted and aligned, balancing uneasily between masculine and feminine. 

Parker turned around from facing the hall and walked back to the bed, where Eleanor was holding Nicholas as tightly as she could against her chest. Nicholas was trying to look up at her, but probably couldn't see through his mess of dark hair anyway. 

"Im glad to see you darling," Eleanor whispered to him. "Look at your baby brother." 

Nicholas glanced to the side, and crinkled his perfectly shaped nose. "He's kind of ugly." 

A little light brightened up Eleanor's eyes. She smiled weakly. "That's not very nice." 

"I know what you should name him." 

"What's that, darling?" 

Parker opened his mouth, then closed it. They had already chosen a name. It was going to be Marcus, after one of the many uncles who thought that it was his turn. 

"Burnaby." 

The two parents were quiet for a moment, then Eleanor weakly nodded. 

"Burnaby it is." 

Parker groaned on the inside, but Nicholas grinned happily in satisfaction. 

A nurse in a white gown knocked on the door. She frowned slightly at the sight of Nicholas cuddled up in Eleanor's deathbed, but smiled with painful pleasantly at Parker. 

"Mr Fitzgerald, there is a very important person waiting for you in the lobby. He requests your presence immediately." 

Parker clutched at Eleanor's hand. He didn't want to leave her, with the little amount of time they had left together. But she squeezed his hand with surprising strength. 

"It's about the other children," she whispered softly, only to him as Nicholas flicked... Burnaby on the nose. "I know it, you have to go." 

Parker leaned toward her. "I don't want to leave you." 

"I want to know if the children are all right. Go with the nurse." 

He looked his wife directly her eyes, and realized that she was pleading with him to do this for her. So he got up, lightly slipped out of her grasp, and followed the nurse down to the lobby.

It was completely empty, and the lighting rather mellow. Standing between the couches, on the kid's roadmap carpet, was the exact person Parker was afraid to see. A tall, slender young man, with ginger hair and angled green eyes, his head tilted patiently. 

"Good evening Parker." 

Parker tried his best not to glower to harshly. "Hello Roman." 

Roman blinked slowly at him. "I assume you know that this is about your children." 

"Eleanor thought it would be." 

"Mairvelle did the best that we could." Roman slowly sat down on the leather couch, as Parker's heart tried to climb up his throat. "The first thing I want to say is that there was an ambush on your house by the Nightingales, but none of your children were physically harmed." 

A wave of relief seeped through Parker's body, then poisoned with anxiety. "Physically?" 

Roman wiped his hands down his knees and looked down. "I'm not sure what happened, honestly, it was all such a mess. Scarlett did something that I've never... seen before." 

"What do you mean?" Parker instinctively moved closer to him. "What happened?" 

".... To that extent at least..." 

"Roman? What. Happened." 

Roman looked him dead in the eye. Parker suddenly thought about when he was a child himself, being trained by Roman to control his emotions and abilities. Roman had looked exactly the same as he did then. He never aged. 

"Your kids were all stripped of their individual powers. Scarlett sent out some kind of signal, I guess, I don't really know."

Parker felt empty on the inside. He put his hand on the back of the couch to steady himself, suddenly dizzy. 

"What do you mean, 'stripped of their powers'?"  

Roman shrugged sadly. "I don't know, Parker. They're all just... normal people now." He suddenly looked at Parker sharply. "Except for Nicholas." 

Parker jerked in alarm. "He was here with us!" 

"Scarlett will do anything to get that kid on her side," Roman said, quietly but intensely. "She can use him in ways you can't even imagine. You need to make sure that this never  happens, Parker, or we're all dead." 

Parker glanced down the hall at delivery room where his wife was dying, his ten year old son was laughing, and his new baby was sleeping. Seeing it felt surreal. 

"But... Nicholas's powers aren't anymore that they already are." 

Roman frowned at him. "His lineage is incredible. And now that he's the only one left.... he's the most precious thing we have right now. If he goes astray..." he shook his head. "We might as well give up now." 

Parker turned back to him and took a breath. "What if he went and stayed at Mairvelle?" 

"I thought of that. And then I thought against that." Roman stood up. "He isn't ready." 

"But I can't-" 

"He's in your hands, that's where he belongs." Roman stepped close to him. "I have to go, the Nightingale's kidnapped one of my major apprentices during the hold-down and I need to hurry. But you need to promise me to keep Nicholas safe." 

Parker stared into his glittering green eyes. "I - I promise I'll do my best." 

 Roman stared at him for a silent moment, then blinked and vanished, leaving Parker alone in the lobby, stunned. He again looked toward the delivery room, straightened his back, and walked down the hall. From inside, Eleanor gazed at him, and he basked in their shared uncertainty, but for the moment his mind was on Nicholas. That skinny, beautiful, gender-confused, snarky child, who was going to be the fate of their world. 

We held the funeral for Parker Elliot Fitzgerald on a sunny Saturday afternoon. 

I knew that nobody wanted to be there. I certainly didn't, but there I was anyway, shaking hands with people I didn't even know all coming to watch my father get out six feet in the ground. 

I thought it was stupid, making the funeral such a big deal. There were workers literally putting up a memorial across the street. 

I must have looked how I felt, irritable and hot, but still stubbornly wearing Edith's black duster, because William took my mood as an invitation to come and stand beside me. 

"Hey Nicholas." 

"Hmm." 

William looked at me for a long moment, then took some of the pamphlets I was holding. "Look Nicholas, I know you don't want to be here, or even care, but can you at least pretend to have some emotion?" 

"Why though?"

"Because people are staring, that's why." 

I squinted through my rose glasses at the old lady hobbling up the steps, and who was indeed staring at me. 

"Well I don't blame them," I said, pretending to save my already shattered self-image. "Black is my colour."

William gave a soft, tired sigh, and for a moment I felt bad. I had five brothers and he was definitely my preferred one, and I didn't really like it when I upset him or disappointed him. 

And then I didn't care. 

"Will, if they want to pretend to be sad and make this into a tragedy then that's their problem." 

William scowled, but not with that much anger because I was his favourite. "Then show some respect." 

I shot him a glare.  

The Tomlinson family were going in through the side entrance, flanked with security. Mr Fitzgerald had worked with my father. His daughter, Estelle, was expected to be my friend, since we were the same age, sixteen, but we both shared a mutual hate. 

I looked away from them. Her beauty disgusted me. 

William nodded his head in their direction. "That reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about." 

I rolled my eyes. "If it's about them then we can literally talk about anything else and I'll be happy." 

"It was something in Father's will-" 

At that I tuned him out with some airy humming. A beetle was crawling toward my boot on the cobblestone. I stepped on it. Stupid fucker. 

"Afternoon boys." 

William and I both startled, even though I'd recognized Roman's voice instantly and was expecting to see him. 

"Good Lord," William said irritably, putting his hand over his chest. "Could you not have just driven here like a normal person?" 

Roman stepped out of the shadows from under the church's marquee and stood beside me. I noticed that he wasn't even dressed for a funeral, which was admirable. Though I found everything about him admirable. 

"Oh I'm not staying."

I raised my eyebrows and glanced at William, who also had his eyebrows raised. 

"So... just paying your dues?" 

"Uh no." Roman looked at me dully. "I'm taking Nicholas." 

I blinked and shook my head back in surprise. "Huh?" 

William looked suddenly very alert. "What what?" 

Roman touched my shoulder. "I'm taking him." 

"Taking me where?" 

"Hold on." William put his hand on my other shoulder protectively. "Roman, our father said that he didn't want Nicholas to have anything to do with your mission until he was eighteen because of the risks-" 

"What mission?" I asked, but was drowned out. 

"Two things about that, Will." Roman took out a box of cigarettes from his pocket. "See, Bronwyn has been out for six years, and as being kidnaped that kind of six years too many. I can only image the things that Scarlett's been forcing her to do...." 

His eyes got blurry for a moment in thought. I glanced at William to make sure that he was understand what was going on, and saw that he was, and shook him off my shoulder. "Who's Bronwyn?" 

Roman looked at me sharply, the same way my private tutors did when I asked questions that I apparently should already know the answer to. "The girl who the Nightingales abducted while we were protecting your sorry ass the night your mother died." 

"Oh." I knew this story. I'd been forced to hear this story many times, to the point where I stopped caring. "Right. But isn't she like.... fifty now?"  

"Nicholas." 

"She's seventeen, actually," Roman replied. He lit one of the cigarettes. "And her family is really pressuring Mairvelle to get her back."

He said it like the fact that she had been kidnaped by our worst enemy was a minor inconvenience. William looked absolutely done. 

"Well if her safety is an issue then I'm not too surprised." 

I smirked. Roman raised his eyebrows. 

"And secondly, Parker is dead!" 

William flinched at the boldness of the statement. "...So?" 

"So...." Roman shrugged, laughing lightly. "He'll never know. Who gives a shit about his rules." 

I laughed without meaning to, because same.

William hesitated with his response, I figured his natural respect for Roman messing with the fact that Roman had just said a big FU to our deceased father. 

"Okay, but.... maybe I should get Harold, and you can talk to him." 

I crinkled my nose. Conversation with Harold, our eldest brother and now parental guardian, was never something I'd recommend, even if I hated you. 

Roman narrows his eyes. "And then what, I talk to Edith, and then to everyone else? I have all the right to take Nicholas, William. I'm not asking for your permission right now. I'm politely forcing you." 

There was a moment of silence, which I was enjoying thoroughly. William had never been much for confrontation, especially with the knowledge that Roman could verbally destroy him no matter what his reply was. 

But that was okay. Some of us weren't meant to be the fighters. Some of us were the feelings. And those people were absolutely precious.

"Well... how long would he be with you for?" 

Roman acknowledged William's safe decision to agree with a head tilt. "I don't honestly know. As long as we need him for I guess."

I looked between them. I felt like I was a little kid, being talked about as if I wasn't there or had an opinion. 

"Do I get a say?" 

Roman frowned at me. I frowned right back. "What, I think I should get to decide what I do with my life."

Roman rolled his eyes dramatically, not at me, but at William, and then turned to me. "Well all right, Nicholas. Do you want to come with me to Mairvelle, and help with the mission of finding Bronwyn?" 

I narrowed my eyes. His tone and attitude was pissing me off, but I figured that he was doing it on purpose. 

Of course I wanted to go with him. Why would I want to stay with my fake excuse of a family when I could have the opportunity to do something as easy as leave? 

".... well yeah." 

"That's what I thought." Roman pointed down the street at a car that I hadn't even noticed was there. "Lets go then." 

William held up his hands, dropping some of the pamphlets. "Right now?!" 

"Uh huh." 

"What about the funeral?" William looked at me desperately. "It's our dad, Nicholas." 

Roman also looked at me, curiously, waiting for my reaction. 

I bit my lip, feeling a stupid nagging guilt. I should stay for the funeral, and I knew it. It was the least I could do for the man who raised me, whether well or not, but I just didn't want to. I didn't want to be around all these people who were fake about it, pretending to actually care, when they were just there for gossip or entertainment. I didn't want people asking if I was okay, or who I was seeing, or why I wasn't speaking my dues. 

I glanced back at William, but not in his eyes. "I.... don't think I should stay. I think I'll just go with Roman. It'll be better." 

There was disappointment, I could feel it without even seeing it, but I decided not to care. It was easier that way. 

"Well then, Nicholas." William deceivingly made a grab for my hand, then pulled me into a hug. "Good luck." 

I'd forgotten how big Mairvelle was. 

It was definitely beautiful, with all its balconies and arched windows, but it was unnecessarily large for the amount of people living in it. There were usually about fifty kids, aged between six to seventeen, along with Roman watching vaguely over them all, and they definitely didn't need a mansion this vast. 

But I wasn't about to complain about the size. This meant I would probably get my own room, and besides, I wasn't that petty. 

It took two hours to drive there from Boston, and once we finally pulled up Roman left me all alone at the front door, after a quick conversation in the car. 

"I think I want to get Shiloh to show you to your room," Roman mused. He narrowed his eyes, seeming to think about it a little more, then slowly nodded. "Yeah... I think that should work out fine." 

He was being vague, like usual. "Who's she?" 

Roman shot me a glare. "He."

"Oh." 

"He's Bronwyn's brother, and has been quite helpful to me, honestly." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "He's quite talented." 

I unbuckled my seatbelt. "They both have abilities? That's kind of rare, isn't it?" 

"Twins... Twins are an interesting thing." 

I had to agree. I had two sets of twins in my direct family, Francis and Esme, and Agatha and Agnes. And they were both unique and special in ways that the rest of us just couldn't be. 

"It must be pretty awful then, to have been separated from her for this long," I said, trying to reach a bit of empathy. 

"I think so," Roman said. "He's never been one to make his own emotions a big deal. That's why he's good to have on the case." 

"That's pretty depressing." 

"Yeah well." Roman popped my door open with a flick of his hand. "Get out." 

I blinked. "Huh?"

"I have stuff to do, get out." 

"But aren't you going to-" 

"No." 

So yeah. He left me alone of the front steps, awkwardly debating between knocking on the door, or waiting for someone to come find me themselves. 

It felt odd, standing there by myself. So many times in my life I'd stood there before, detesting all the business meetings I was dragged to, pretending to listen to my father lecture in his suit-and-tie combo about things I didn't care about. 

Though come to think of it, maybe I should have cared and paid attention. The knowledge of the things they'd discussed would probably come in handy given the situation I had gotten myself into now. 

"Um... can I help you?" 

I quickly turned around. The front door had somehow opened without me hearing it, and a kid about my age was leaning against the frame, frowning at me. 

I'd never had someone I didn't know look at me like that before, with such disdain, that I instantly became ten times more awkward and anxious. 

"H - Hi - Hello." 

He looked down at my hands. "Did you actually just finger-gun me?" 

Did I?! Apparently I did. 

"Um... yeah."

There was a moment of silence where he simply just stared at me, then cracked a grin. "Okay. You know, you aren't what I was expecting you to be." 

He already knew who I was. Great. 

"Are you Shiloh?" 

He looked amused. "Yeah." 

I rolled my eyes and mentally kicked myself. I'd came here with the intention to be unapproachable to these people, since I was above them, yet here I was now, shooting finger-guns to the first skinny Tumblr-esque kid I met. 

Shiloh had a pleasant face though. His eyes were a nice shade of green. 

Not that I cared. It was just..... something to be noticed. 

"Jen and I were watching you from the living room." He pointed to the side at an arched bay window. "We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, but you never did." 

I felt myself flush. "I was just getting my thoughts together. I was going to knock." 

He looked like he didn't believe me. 

He also looked like he was wearing flannel, which felt like a foreign concept. I'd never worn flannel in my life. 

Shiloh opened the door a little wider, revealing a crouched red-head girl in the hall. "Jen, you can say hi, he's not going to eat you." 

Jen looked at me with bright, curious eyes. She seemed bursting to say something. 

"Hey," I said casually, deciding to giver her a chance. I hated kids, but maybe she'd be an exception. Probably not, but maybe. "I'm Nicholas." 

"Mysisterhasacrushonyou!" She blurted out in a rush, then covered her mouth. 

Shiloh glanced down at her. "Jennifer."

"Really?" I took off my rose glasses and tucked them into the pocket of Edith's duster, which was apparently mine now. "I dont care."

Jen's enthusiasm level went from a ten to a zero real quick. "That's not very nice." 

I stared her down, because no, she wasn't any different. "I don't care about that either." 

She wilted under my gaze, which honestly disappointed me. I had hoped that she'd be a bit more strong-willed then that, but I guess not. 

"You know, maybe you should help with dinner," Shiloh suggested to her, suddenly looking stressed. "I'll come see you in a bit." 

I felt bad for making him feel that way. He seemed like a decent person, and besides, I had literally just met him. 

"I - I didn't mean..." I began, then decided to break off, as Shiloh beckoned me into the hall and closed the door. He smiled wearily at me, which was a relief. 

"It's fine, Nicholas. She's been in need of a good check recently." 

Jen had scuttled through the living room and out of sight. I vaguely remembered the floor plan, knowing at least that there was a door leading right that took you to the dining room and everywhere else from there, and a door in the corner that was one of the entires to the basement, which was a labyrinth in and of itself. 

Ahead of us, down the hallway, the light went dimmer, with numerous doors, and at the end of the hall, a swirling staircase that went up to the second floor. The elevator next to it, of course went up all three, and then downstairs as well. Quiet classical music floated around airily, and I remembered as a kid trying to figure out where it came from but never being able to. 

I could feel Shiloh staring at me as I thought about all of this, so I slowly turned my eyes toward him. 

"What?" 

Shiloh tilted his head. "I'm trying to figure out if you're actually serious about this, or if you're just here because you wanted to get away from something else." 

My eyes twitched. I hadn't realized he was going to be this honest, only question was if I was going to be. "I'm serious about it, why wouldn't I be?" 

"Well you better be, because this actually might effect you more than anyone else." 

We started walking toward the stairs, the light getting dimmer and dimmer. "I feel like you guys already have something figured out." I glanced to the side at him. "You need me for a specific reason, don't you?" 

Shiloh looked uncomfortable. "Well, that sounds shady and self absorbed, but yeah." 

"Last year at the General MEO meeting Roman was talking about doing something as drastic as actually breaking into the Nightingale headquarters to get Bronwyn back." Apparently I did remember something. "But he wasn't actually serious." 

Shiloh didn't answer, but looked at me like "You already know, dude". 

I opened my eyes wider. "But that's so dangerous, do you realize how dangerous that is?!" 

"Yeah." 

"Then why the hell - " 

"Which is why we decided not to do a break in," Shiloh said, talking over me. "Instead, we're going to send someone in... as a spy, I suppose." 

I stopped on the top step of the stars, the rest of which I didn't even remember climbing. I was suddenly realizing what they wanted me to do. "You guys.... oh." 

Shiloh nodded, his eyes grim. "This all depends on you, Nicholas. We need you."