Something is different now. I can feel my head. But I can also feel Angel's head. Right there. Pulsing next to me. As I keep that door to the part of his mind that feeds off the fire, firmly, closed. We're safe now.
I can hear Sam breathing. He's so sad he's crying. I try to speak, but all I taste is blood. I can hear the road. We're in a car.
I cough.
"Shhh, you're okay, you're okay," Sam says, bending his head close to mine. We're sitting on the floor in the back of a car, street lights whizzing by us, "What did you do?"
"I took his mind. So long as I'm awake, I can stop him from doing that," I whisper, blood draining from my mouth. Sam is a mess, he's covered in soot and ash and he's burned. I'm sure I'm burned as well.
"They can't—"
"Be quiet Norman. They are not going anywhere. Are you all right boys?" there's a woman driving. She likes us. She sees hurt boys. Not monsters.
"They'll be looking for them," the man, Norman, says, nervously.
"Let them---it's all right boys, you're safe now. I was a nurse, I'll get you cleaned up— just try not to touch those wounds too much. We'll get you washed up and fed, and you can stay in our attic as long as you like," she says. She had little sister taken away for being a mutant. And a little boy drown when he was a bit younger than me. She's not about to let them drag us off in cuffs and straight jackets.
"The authorities will go door to door," Norman is more worried than upset.
"I can control their minds," I say, cuddling my face painfully into Sam's straight jacket.
"We'll lie to them. It's all right. You boys are safe now."