Proteus

He heard the click.

"Nicht bewegen!"

"Sir?"

"I said, don't move!"

Niklaus' arms were painfully stiff as he raised them above his head. Chubby, thick fingers wrapped themselves around his coat hem; his little sister, with all her dark curls, stared at him, eyes locked on his face as though hungry for his features. Nik's face cranked to the left as his eyes met the eyes of the officer who had the gun pointing at Nik's chest.

Lungs expanded; stress released, like air from a balloon. Nik clenched his fists and carefully looked down at his sister again, placing a soft palm on the back of her head but keeping one hand instinctively raised, his other fingers entwining in her ringlets: he could feel every strand of brown hair, every curve of the curl, every broken edge he'd created when he'd dragged the comb through it that morning. An emotion swirled in his chest- pride. Pride for his beautiful sister. So beautiful. No, maybe it was dread, or a sickening sense of the sordid unknown which looked at him from the end of the barrel- he wasn't sure which; his mind clouded with consternation- with aggression- with shock.  He wondered why they were being searched- hopefully, it was just a routine check and nothing more.

He swallowed and looked up again at the officer, who was just starting to grow some soft stubble, shadow really, around his lips and chin. Nik cocked his head to one side so that he could feel the rough fabric of his scarf against his ear, the rustling of fibres making his teeth grind together.

"Get the girl's hands up!" The officer yelled: Nik smirked a little, unable to help it- the officer sounded ridiculous to him, ordering around a child.

"Trouble with the girls, eh?" Nik chided, tightening his grip ever so slightly on his sister's hair: the comment had slipped out before he could close his mouth. He felt her muscles tighten as he ran his fingers over a strand of her hair.

"What?" There was a moment's pause, then realisation hit him and clearly Nik's words had stung. The officer's face became a scowl, ugly and distorted. "No! You cheeky shit! I said get her hands up, now!"

"Put your hands up, darling." Nik scanned his sister's gentle face before giving a nod of encouragement, and slowly, like a puppet, the little girl raised her hands above her head. She let out a small whimper. Gott. God, he thought, what was he going to do?

"Now you, mutant," the officer said the word like a nun saying 'sex', "I want you to-"

"Just shoot 'em, Gritz!"

Nik's breath hitched painfully in his throat. He could see a small group of officers, in matching uniforms, not far away on the other street; the jeering and shouting made his sister's hands shake, and she began to sob again. Nik looked up to the sky.

"Right." Gritz, the officer, looked down the barrel of his gun, his hands creeping further around the muzzle in discomfort. His stance was rigid- his legs had parted. "Produce your cards. Now."

Good, this was something he'd expected. Nik reached slowly, very slowly, into his thick coat pocket and produced two cards, normal except for the small mark in the corner declaring him a mutant: declaring him a freak.

Nik felt a sickening sense of sheepishness coming from across the street. A man in a hat and woman with a string of delicate pearls around her neck passed them, eyes casting over the process as though curious- Nik knew they weren't, not really. The officer didn't even give them a glance: instead, he was staring intently at one of the cards. His frown burned a hole through Nik's fear and burned the edges, morphing the emotion into utter petrification. Suddenly, Nik couldn't concentrate. What was wrong? Why was he taking so long?

It should have just been a check- the officer had seen his blue band and wanted to check them. Surely, that was it?

"Du!" He pointed to Nik with his gun and for a moment, he closed his eyes. "You. You're needed." He opened his eyes.

"Und Meine Schwester? What about-"

"Shut up, would you? I don't care about your sister."

"But-"

The officer lowered his gun as though his mind had suddenly switched to a human thought. Everyone knew they weren't really human beings anymore- officers had the life sucked, any human sympathy, sucked straight out. Some said it was what they'd seen- others theorized a more likely cause in Nik's mind; that they'd thought and thought until the Party's ideas sounded good. Oh yes, that was it.

"You're being difficult. Shut up!"

"Yes, sir."

"You're going to stay still!"

"Yes, sir."

"Stay!"

He flinched.

Nik's eyes were stiff as he watched the young man. Each step like a stab to the gut: Nik watched the officer move towards his sister, her hands still raised in surrender, her delicate snowy white fingers bright against the grey of the street and sky. For a moment, Nik thought of braiding colourful flowers through her hair and kissing her curls like he usually did before bed, but the officer loaded the gun, his hands fumbling as they struggled to put the load into the barrel. Tongue struggled against the roof of his mouth: gut Gott, what was he doing? The gun rose through the air, slicing it, and came to rest on his sister.

There was a moment of pure horror; acerb sea crashing over rock and then bang. Bang.

A single breath dripped from his mouth. Nik thought of nothing, his mind a blank sheet before an unadulterated liquid rage surged through every vein in his body: his heart ripped viciously open. The wound oozed. Spat. Spit. Fuck. Anger bubbled- anger infinite- splurging out of every orifice until he felt nothing but white-hot rage, rage like God, until suddenly the gun was cleaved from the officer. It flew apart, something dragging it outwards from its core: shards splattered, shrapnel, across the street. Metal fell on the concrete pavement, the noise piercing his eardrums. Coins scattering. The nearest bench crushed itself with an unknown weight, crumpling into the ground, a mess of wet wood and cheap metal. Metal made of old teeth. Rot. They should rot! Crunch: the wood snapped, the neck of the object cracked. Metal screeched, being bent. Screeching, a frightening screech. Birds above. Bird's chirp ahead, delicate ears bleeding. The chemist's windows exploded, shattered by a scream inside his head- every object around Nik broke apart as he clenched his fingers together, bones crunching together from the pressure, the skin of his hands becoming raw with the repeated motion of crush, crush, crush. His sister.

His sister: sister, sister.

God.