A Price To Be Paid (John Proudstar)

Home Sweet Home

As the sun rose on a misty road, we drove up towards an old bank in the middle of nowhere. It felt like we had been driving for days, but we had never left Georgia. We had to take back roads around Atlanta, to this corner of nowhere. I did have to admit, it seemed like a good hiding place.

A moment passed before I started to feel a wave of emotions. It was so intense, I couldn't catch my breath. The nausea rolled in just as John parked the car. I climbed out with the others, and doubled over trying to breathe through it. The bank was worse than Trask. God, it made me sick even thinking it, but what I wouldn't have done for a collar in that moment.

I stepped away, into the bushes, and the contents of my stomach sullied the otherwise beautiful forest. As I wiped the vomit away with my sleeve, a hand gently spread across my back. I looked up into John's concerned eyes.

"Peyton, are you okay?" He whispered, rubbing my back.

I cleared my throat of the remaining bile, and rasped, "I'm doing great. One hundred percent."

Chuckling, he muttered, "I'm sure."

I groaned as the emotions made me vomit a second time. Gasping as my throat cleared, I finally took a deep breath. As I sat up I had to lean against a large tree for support. I glanced at John as he watched me with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry. People around here aren't in the best of moods these days. In fact, it's been pretty bleak lately. I'm afraid it's going to get worse once we tell everyone about Dreamer." John admitted, looking up at the pillars of the bank. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

I glanced at him, confused, but he just looked at the new refugees, saying, "I've gotta get inside. Are you going to be alright now? I can send someone to check on you. There's s a nurse here."

I rolled my eyes, mumbling, "No it's fine. Maybe I can help you tell your friends about Dreamer. If I try to focus on a small group, maybe it will help. Do you think that would be okay?"

John nodded and helped me upright.

"That would been fine. We will have to keep it a secret. Is that alright?"

We agreed to tell no one as we started up the front steps.

-------
Helping John's friends with the news was worse than I could have imagined. They had loved her so much. That level of loss was something I hadn't felt since I had first gotten my abilities. All the same, I did what I could for them.

The woman from before, Lorna, growled, "Dr.Campbell is going to pay for this. He doesn't just kill my friends, and get away with it..."

I watched her from a distance, sensing how enraged she was. Of all her emotions: sadness, disgust, loss... it was anger that dominated over the rest. I made sure to keep her at a distance, but I made her feel less angry, not enough to be noticeable, but enough that I was sure she wouldn't go around crushing people with cars.

One of the other men from the forest, Marcos, hissed, "This isn't going to be easy, but we need to find him, and make him pay..."

"Guys, we need to have a service for Dreamer first, a memorial, something. Then, and only then, will I talk about this. I can't think about Campbell right now..." John replied with heartbreaking sadness in his voice.

I glanced towards him as he looked me in the eye with a tear running down his cheek. He discreetly shook his head, obviously sensing that I was going to help him. I smiled sympathetically, and turned away.

Instead, I focused my attention on the large group of people before me. As I did, I could feel the nausea creeping in, but I tried to focus on each person individually. When I did, I found plenty of despair, and grief. These people had suffered so much loss. I felt my own emotions change, and I let out a soft sob. I turned away from the crowded room, and leaned on the railing to the stairs. This was not going to work. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and they finally focused on John. I should have known. I could sense that unique power a mile away. He gave me a soft smile as I wiped a traitorous tear from my cheek. I glanced around, embarrassed.

"There's a lot of suffering around here. People have sacrificed so much. Maybe, if you were able to help them, then you'd feel better, and so would they. I'm not saying just waving your hand, and taking away their pain. But, maybe, you could give them a bit of courage to overcome their problems like you did with me. I don't see the harm in that." John whispered as he leaned over me.

Looking across the room at the refugees, I sighed. They all definitely needed something to lighten the mood. Gently, I entered every mind, and gave them just enough strength to get through the night. I finished with the last person, and pulled myself back into my body. Feeling dizzy, I stumbled a little, but John steadied me, and smiled.

"I know that going into people's heads is wrong, but look at everyone now. They actually seem... hopeful. Peyton, you did that. It's something else." John said as he lowered his hands.

I nodded as I said, "It seems a lot less depressing now. It's interesting, they may not all know it, but they already have the bravery they need to fight, just like you, Proudstar." I turned towards him, "But my false emotions fade when their emotions change enough, or they get hurt. I hope that it gets them through the hardest stuff, so they can stand up for themselves. Still, pain demands to be felt..."

John nodded, and said, "I understand... Thank you for this," he gestured around the room, "I think you're going to be quite the asset to this team, if you decide to stay, Peyton..." He smiled down at me, as I gazed up at him. His hand rose to rest on my forearm, but just as quickly as he reached for me, he released me and cleared his throat. "Uh, now, you should go get some rest. There are some empty rooms down the hall you can stay in."

I smiled and turned towards the direction he had gestured. Walking away, I sensed his emotions rise a bit, then he also seemed confused. He was going through plenty of emotions in that moment for everyone. I sighed, but continued on. He had some things to figure out for himself.

I found an empty room at the end of a long hall, and approached an old, tattered couch. Collapsing on it, I sprawled out as wide as I could. It looked like a hunk of garbage, but it was the softest thing I'd slept on in so long. Only moments passed before my eyes grew heavy. They slowly fell shut as sleep overcame me...