Heather ripped her hand away from Erik's arm and stepped back, her eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. The horrifying images seemed to be burned into her brain, however, and the more she tried, the harder it was to forget them. Someone had tortured Erik when he was only a child and that same person had killed Edie - his own mother - right before his own eyes. The thought and the memories had Heather's stomach doing somersaults and she felt the sudden need to throw up.
Erik, who looked at her with both confusion and concern, reached out hesitantly for her and he was saying something - but the ringing in her ears prevented her from hearing any of it. Feeling suddenly very sweaty and shaking, Heather moved past him as quick as she could. "I'm fine," she tried to reassure him, "I'm perfectly - I just - I just need to sit down."
She managed to stumble her way down the hall to her room, closing the door behind her as she entered. She leaned against the wood for a moment, trying to calm her breathing, before finally getting up and moving to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. It took a while for her to get used to the bright lights within, but she moved quickly towards the sink. The water was cool in her hands and on her flushed cheeks, and it helped ease her nausea.
She placed her hands on either side of the sink, leaning against it as she looked down in it. Edie hadn't mentioned that. Edie hadn't mentioned any of that. She didn't expect for Edie to tell her everything but - that was big. That was really big. She had known about the treatment of the Jews within the camps, her brother had told her almost everything about them after he died, but something told Heather that what happened to Erik wasn't because he was Jewish.
It was because he was a mutant.
A sudden drop of red in the porcelain white sink had her thoughts coming to a halt.
And then another.
And then another.
And suddenly hot, thick blood was running down her mouth, down her chin and into the sink. She clamped her hand over her nose, trying hard not to choke on the liquid or the heavy smell of iron now filling the room. She scrambled away from the sink and grabbed the first towel she could find - a white one, of course it had to be the one that would stain - and pressed it against her bleeding nose.
There was a loud knock from the other room, and Heather called out, "I - I'll be out in a minute." It took more than a minute for her nose to stop bleeding, but when it did, she let out a relieved sigh before walking out of the bathroom to answer the door. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she spotted a familiar shape.
"Heather," Edie asked as she stepped forward, "What happened, schatz?" Heather was silent for a moment, before asking her own question. "I had a vision of Erik. He was - being tortured by a man. Do you know him? The man, I mean." Edie's face went blank, her face deathly pale in the darkness of the room. "You need to rest," she responded, her voice cracking, "You shouldn't strain yourself so much."
"Edie - "
Another loud knock had Heather turning to look at the door for a moment, before looking back at Edie - or where Edie should have been. Letting out a sigh, she shook her head and moved to open the door. Erik was standing there, looking surprisingly awkward and concerned, and when he saw her, his eyes widened almost comically.
Why was he - Oh, the blood.
She hadn't washed the dried blood off her mouth or nose, so she probably looked like something straight out of a horror film. "Uh - sorry, I'm just gunna - " She motioned behind her, before moving back to the stained sink to wet down the towel and scrub the dark red liquid off. Once she was done, she dried off and turned the faucet off, an awkward silence falling over them once the sound of running water was gone.
The worried look didn't leave Erik's face the whole time, and she tried to reassure him again. "I'm fine. It was just a tiny nose bleed." Erik's lips pressed together into a tight frown, before he began, "In the hallway... "
" - Yeah?"
" - When you grabbed my arm... What happened?"
Heather considered telling him the truth, that she knew about the man torturing him, that she knew how his mother died. But instead, she gave him a weak smile. "Nothing. I just got a really bad headache. I'm perfectly fine now, so why don't we go down by the others?" Heather tried to push past him - careful not to grab his bare arm - but Erik moved in front of her, looking down at her with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm - " Not okay, definitely not okay, " - fine. Perfectly fine. Let's go." Erik stared at her for a moment, watching her for a change of expression or any sign that she was lying, but, seeing none, he sighed and moved out of her way, allowing her to walk out of the room. He followed her out and walked a little faster until the two were side by side. Silence fell over the two as they made their way towards the staircase, and it was finally broken when Erik cleared his throat and asked, "How long was my mother with you before you came here?"
"The first time I saw your mom was - probably around 2 weeks ago."
"Has she - talked about anyone else?"
Heather thought over all of her and Edie's conversations. She had mentioned her husband and other family members previously - but all of them had been the past tense and not in the they're-ghosts-too tense. "Not really," she responded, before quickly adding, "You were all she really talked about."
Erik smiled at that, but it was small and bitter and Heather would have tried to comfort him if something big hadn't come to her attention.
Edie's wish was to see Erik again and that wish had been fulfilled.
So why was Edie still here?
"Do I really need training?"
The next day, with the sun shining bright and the breeze cool and crisp, Heather should have been lying out on a towel beside Raven and enjoying the lovely weather. But instead, she was standing in the shade beside Hank and Charles and listening to them chatter on about training. "I see dead people. Unless there's a ghost around, I'm useless. Let's just accept that and move on."
Heather turned to walk away, but Charles quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "Not so fast." Heather let out a groan, but stayed put and crossed her arms. "Now, after some research, I found out something very interesting. The reason you can see ghosts is because your mind unconsciously manipulates the astral plane, therefore allowing you to see spirits."
Hank wrinkled his nose. "Astral plane?"
"Basically the spirit world," Charles replied, before turning back to Heather, "If we could figure out a way for you to consciously manipulate it, there's no telling what you could do." Heather was silent for a moment, letting what Charles had just said sink in. So, if she could just figure out how to control the astral plane, she could unlock some powers that she never even knew she had. That sounded - pretty amazing actually. But one thing was bothering her...
"If I learn how to control it - would I be able to turn my mediumship off?"
Charles frowned at that. "Yes, I guess you could." Heather paused once more at that. Did she even want that? What would it even be like without her power? Without the constant appearance of the dead in her life? She'd be normal. Never again would she have to be caught talking to herself, never again would she have to be called names or teased.
But - it would be lonely.
Heather sighed, glancing at Charles, before looking straight ahead and placing her hands out in front of her. "Now, just concentrate," Charles said soothingly as he stepped back. Heather closed her eyes and began to chant to herself: Controlitcontrolitcontrolitcontrolitcontrolit. But nothing happened.
Heather pursed her lips, before trying again, harder this time. This was different from when she usually used her powers. Normally it just - happened and now it just wasn't. After a few moments of trying, she stopped and turned to Charles. "It's not working." By then, the other mutants had joined them and were watching her curiously.
Charles nodded, before suggesting, "Why don't you try doing something you know you can do? You said when we met that you could the souls of the living, right?"
Heather nodded, closing her eyes and calmed herself as much as she could, before opening her eyes again. This time, she saw bright orbs inside each of their chests, each one different colored and unique. The souls also held a person's deepest secrets and she could usually hear the whispers, but with so many people around her, it sounded more like a hum instead of real words. "What do they look like?" Raven asked, stepping forward. She turned to look closely at Raven's which was - different from any other that she had seen. Raven's changed color every time Heather blinked; one second it was blue and the one next second it was green.
"It's the color of your eyes," Heather explained in a breathless voice. "Eyes are the windows to the soul," Erik added silently, almost to himself. Suddenly, the whispers were beginning to get louder and louder, and Heather found it too hard to keep focusing with the many voices in her ears. She decided to end it then - she really didn't need another bloody nose - and squeezed her eyes closed, the voices finally, blissfully fading away.
Heather was folding her blanket when Edie reappeared in her room. She set the blanket down gently, before glancing at where Edie was standing. The woman had her back turned to her as she looked out of the big window at the moon that was currently hung high in the sky. "You never answered my question from before," Heather said softly, hoping she wouldn't disappear again.
Instead, Edie sighed and turned to face Heather, her face looking suddenly very defeated. She moved slowly to sit on the bed beside Heather, not looking in her eyes the entire time. "Who was that man?" She asked once more, her voice gentle and a little concerned.
Edie remained silent for a moment, before looking up into her eyes - the pain and sorrow deep within - and saying, "Klaus Schmitz. But - you would know him as Sebastian Shaw."
Shaw. Shaw.