𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎, the gifted [1]

chapter eight

Winona sat in front of Clarice as the girl attempted to open a portal. Key word: attempted. It didn't work and Clarice groaned in frustration. She took a breath before trying again. Sonya walked over to the two, a smile on her face. The portal dissipated and Sonya's smile fell.

"I keep getting close, and then I just, I lose it," Clarice explained to the redhead. "I know it's hard, but Lorna's counting on us," Sonya said, taking a seat next to Clarice. Winona rolled her eyes. "That's what everyone keeps telling me," Clarice said. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just. She's my best friend," Sonya said. "You have friends?" Winona muttered, her tone mildly teasing. Sonya ignored her.

"What did Johnny say?" She then asked. "Some Mr. Miyagi stuff about focusing on something that's meaningful to me," Clarice answered. "Well, there's, there's got to be somebody. An old boyfriend, maybe, or girlfriend?" Sonya tried, with a small laugh. "Sorry. There's nobody. So you can tell your boyfriend that this plan isn't gonna work," Clarice said. Winona pursed her lips at her friend's words.

"What makes you think that he's my boyfriend?" The redhead asked. Winona scoffed and rolled her eyes again. "Oh, I don't know, the way you look when you talk about him," Clarice began. "How you're the only one who calls him Johnny. I don't think he likes that nickname by the way," Winona added, her tone almost bitter. Clarice looked at her with raised eyebrows.

Sonya hesitated. "I came here as a refugee. When I decided to stay on and help, we agreed that if we were gonna work together, we shouldn't be together," Sonya said. It seems to me that you didn't agree with that decision, Winona thought. "Look, about your portals... Johnny usually knows what he's talking about, so just keep at it," Sonya concluded.

Winona furrowed her eyebrows at the redhead's hesitation. Sonya stood and left the two alone. "Great. Awesome pep talk," Clarice said with a sigh. "Maybe you're thinking about it too much," Winona proposed. "Well I kinda need to concentrate in order to make a portal," Clarice said.

"Not necessarily. Look, maybe you just need to loosen up. Instead of thinking so much about opening up a portal, maybe you should try to feel it. I mean, this power is a part of you. You have to trust yourself enough and just do it," Winona said. Clarice scoffed, "You sound like John."

"Well Johnny usually knows what he's talking about," Winona jokingly mocked. Clarice cracked a smile. "I could always help. Maybe get your mind in a happy place so that you can relax and hopefully create a portal," Winona said. "No thanks. I already had you digging through my mind once. I'd rather not have you do it again," Clarice disagreed.

"Okay I wasn't digging through your mind. I was just--" Clarice cut her off. "Manipulating it?" She asked in an accusatory tone. "No. It's not like that. It was mental inducement. I was temporarily pushing your mind into a wanted state. A calm state. It didn't do any damage and it was only for a few instances," Winona defended.

Clarice chuckled. "Relax, Winnie. It was a joke," she said. "Oh," Winona muttered. The two grew quiet. This tended to happen a lot. "When I was trying to calm you down. You know, before I collapsed and your portals opened up all over the place, I saw some things," Winona began. "What did you see?" Clarice asked.

"Flashes of images. That road, a house, some people, mutants," Winona trailed off. Clarice remained quiet and grew thoughtful. "Was it your foster family?" Winona asked quietly. Clarice shrugged. "Probably," she muttered. "We don't have to talk about it," Winona said.

Clarice nodded and looked up. "All right. I think it's your turn siren," she said. "My turn to what?" Winona asked, feigning confusion. "You know what. I tried opening my portals now it's your turn to try screaming or whatever," Clarice said. "I can't do it in here," Winona protested. Clarice stood from her seat. "Okay then let's go outside," she said. Winona shook her head. "I'm really comfortable right now," she said.