Scorpio

NINETEEN - Train

"So Alycs - what can I do for you?" Peter's hushed voice broke the silence of midnight. "I'm pretty sure you and Estella both didn't just stop by for Greek food and a free AirBnb."

"Or to see the only guy in the universe who knows I can blip in and out like the dude from Jumper?"

The warm fog of the room vibrated with Peter's quiet laugh, yet remained unbroken as Ned snored on. "You know, if you just told the Captain you had that ability... he would've enlisted you without a second thought. No one on Mr. Stark's team would be able to stop you."

"Well." Alycs' voice held that teasing lilt to it, and in Estella's subconscious, she could almost picture the smirk on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. "You've got to play hard-to-get."

They were quiet for a second. Estella wondered if Peter was used to Alycs' jokes, and rolling his eyes - or maybe caught off-guard, and biting his tongue off to keep from laughing out loud. Maybe they were horseplaying like best friends, or comparing prowesses like brothers.

Estella could hear their voices, quietly lulling her to sleep. She thought she caught her name, once or twice, and something about the Speedster of the Sky - maybe a king or a captain? She could feel the abyss of sleep pull at her, and with a grateful sigh, she let it. All other sounds warped into a blanket, wrapping her within its cozy warmth, drowning her in the feathers of her sleeping bag on the couch of the Parker Residence.

*******

Pulsating, actually, like a glowing heart beating in the chest of some great, round entity.

"Trapped, are you?"

Feeling oddly forlorn, Estella extended her hand, trying to catch the light on her fingers, and a blurry shape caught her eye. She paused.

Something shimmered on the underside of her wrist.

10:42

We just want to make sure you'll be happy.

Happy? Is this what they called it?

Silence again – a dead receiver ringing in her ear. Empty, foreboding, lonely nothingness.

***

The bleariness of the morning light greeted Estella when she awoke, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Was it just her, or was her skin paler and ...peachier... than usual? Estella felt a foreboding sense of worry prick at her - her skin had been some shade of violet for as long as she could remember, and the absence of it just felt...odd. But surely it didn't mean much. She hadn't met another purple being so far; perhaps the change in colouring might even help her fit in.

Estella moved to free her legs from the tangle of her sheets and promptly fell off the couch with a yelp. Remembering the zipper on the side of the sleeping bag, she dragged it along her side until the navy-blue quilt opened up into a blanket. The teen then flopped back, lying on the ground for a while.

I had the strangest dream, she told the ceiling. I dreamt that it was 10:42.

She frowned.

I...think there was more to the dream than that, but...it's all I remember.

Looking to her right, she peered at Aunt May's coffee table. The wood grains reflected the morning daylight with its dark brown stain and polish, but if she concentrated, she could see a faint blue light pulse from within the table. Maybe there was a switch somewhere for holograms, Estella thought. Curious, she willed her hand to slowly disperse in density - first the fingertips, turning to jello, vapour, some gassy form - then the rest of her arm; swallowing her elbow, bicep, tricep, and shoulder. She sank her arm into the side of the table, feeling around, until her fingertips found a cool, flat object.