Recondite {Malia Tate}

14: Are the innocent really innocent?

The wind was rushing furiously as a dark haired woman hurried into a small jewelry store, her hands rubbing together in an attempt to cause a wave of friction to better provide heat for herself.

It wasn't wise for her to use her abilities in public, and she knew that, but she wanted to desperately warm her chilled bones. The cold outside was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was almost unnerving at the severity of the temperature.

"Several people have been in fatal accidents today caused by this weeks recent turn of weather," a news anchor stated informatively, "how we could go from the high fifties to below thirty in just the span of a week is beyond baffling."

"Just another excuse for everyone to stay under their covers at home," a man beside the woman chuckled.

"Mary?"

Mary's attention was pulled from the low-cost tv hanging from the corner of the room, her eyes catching the wrinkled skin of her closest friend and teacher. She gave him a weary smile as he approached her, his old eyes softening as he took in her state. It was clear to anyone close to her that she was in a panic of her own; the man sadly knew the cause of her melancholy heart.

Jansen gave his student a pitiful look as he took her into his chunky arms, "Oh, dilbar, (sweetheart)" he said, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm scared," Mary admitted.

Jansen didn't mean for it to slip, but he couldn't go his whole life feeling regretfor not speaking his mind, "You know you don't have to do this," he told Mary cautiously.

Mary pulled herself from Jansen's comforting grip, his arms suddenly feeling too comforting, "Of course I do!" She told the man, clearly upset as her blue eyes harpedned to narrowed slits of anger. "This is my son we're talking about!"

Mary, as kind as she led on, was never one to not speak her mind or protect her family. Her sharp features seemed to deifne her. The dark hair, light skin and narrowed gaze always giving unknown people the feeling of mystery when they saw her. She was, to many, unapproachable; but everyone in Beacon knew that the Acton wasn't violent unless threatened.

Jansen let his eyes downcast, a sign of shamefulness yoeards his words, "I know, dilbar, I'm sorry for bringing it up," he told her.

Mary gave him a forgiving nod, she knew he didn't mean it offensive in any way, but Mary could never get rid of her baby. She made the choice of creating him, so, she will abide by the rules of God and keep the blessing he gifted to her. Though, in many eyes her Charlie was anything but a gift. The child was a curse in many cultures; one out of wedlock and unlike species.

Mary didn't know the consequences of becoming pregnant. Her kind were hunted throughout the world, and hybrids were especially useful towards the hunter species. Half human, half supernatural; exactly what her Charlie was destined to be. But whilst her kind thought of their abilities as a curse, a deformity of nature, Mary thought of her abilities as gifts.

Unfortunately for Charlie, once he discovered his life-long abilities, or maybe even before, hunters would more than just track him; they'd stalk him, figure out his life. Where he did and did not go, who he was friends with and who he wasn't; enemies and allies. They would make sure to have his every move watched carefully, and that sent chill upon chills scurrying down the Action woman's spine.

"Mary? Dilbar, are you listening to me?"

Jansen's voice brought the twenty-four year old back to the real world; her worries weren't even close to forgotten, but for now, discarding them would have to do.