The Hedgehog and the Fox - Strings that Tie to You

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A moment from Jennie's past



How did they meet? First, he was just that drunk heckler in the park where Jennie and Winston met, in those early days. Back before everything changed.

Then a day where, on crutches, it began to rain. And her bags of shopping slipped from her hands. Jennie remembered watching it roll down the hill balefully. It was stopped by a tall, rangy young man in greasy coveralls and a leather jacket.

The man, who, just yesterday she'd hit with a burst fire hydrant for laughing at them.

Up close, she realized the heckler was young, probably only a year or two older than her.

What was most noticeable about him was his eyes. Bright green, and fringed with thick lashes any woman would covet.

Happily, he decided to help her home with her shopping, allowing her the use of his umbrella. And then, when her landlady came over in a tizzy about the beautiful young man helping her he awkwardly made his escape. Leaving behind an umbrella and no name.

However, using her skills of deduction, and the fact that the garage where he worked was printed on the back of his coveralls, she decided to repay the favor the next, returning his umbrella. And kind of apologizing for the whole fire hydrant thing.

"Hello?" she called, the mechanic's garage was not far from the park where she practiced with Wintson. It was as neat as a mechanic's could be, with a few cars exposing their insides along the floor. Near the back was the Irishman, who was using a utility knife to scrape gunk off of ... something.

"Is that how you're supposed to be using that?" Jennie pointed.

The Irishman raised an eyebrow in response. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Oh! Yes. I'm Jennie, from you know. The park. And yesterday with the rain. You forgot your umbrella!" she held it out. Why was she being so awkward?

"Put it over there," he gestured at a table with his chin, and continued his work without pause.

Jennie complied. "Also, I didn't quite get your name?" she said, noting that she could now add grumpy to his list of identifiers.

"Donal," he muttered.

"Gesundheit?"

He threw her a look. "It's Donal. Donal McGrath. Can I help you?"

"No I just wanted to thank you. For yesterday, Is all," Jennie sighed.

"You're welcome. Door's over there," he gestured and then went back to his project.

"Okay, have fun," Jennie shook her head. Now she wished she had hit him with two fire hydrants.

Donal grunted, and then sawed at the machinery on the table. Jennie saw the lights change, from white to red, from good to bad, and then couldn't help herself.

"Oh, watch out!" Jennie said, but before he could move the blade slipped and bit into skin. Bright red blood bubbled out.

"Ah," Jennie reached for the bunch of paper towels on the shelf and turned back to him.

"Don't!" he snapped, holding out his other hand while cradling the injured one to him. The next moment happened in almost slow motion. A small bead of blood dripped from his hand and hit the floor with a soft plap. Then it began to hiss and bubble, and eat away at the concrete floor. Like acid.

Jennie looked to see Donal staring at it, stricken. His hand smoked slighly where the blood on his hand bubbled in the air. Slowly he met her eyes.

Holy fuck. He's a mutant.

Jennie opened her mouth to say something, and Donal's face immediately became closed and angry.

"Out," he snarled. "Get out. Get out now."

"Donal, I--"

"OUT!" he yelled. He grabbed her by the arm and half carried her out the door of the shop. She stumbled a little and almost lost her balance.

"Donal-- wait!" her crutches he deposited unceremoniously next to her, and then he stepped back and reached up, slamming down the roll door with a bang.

"Oh for fuck's sake--" Jennie pounded on the door with her fist. "Donal! Donal open up, GOD DAMN IT!"

Inside the shop Donal put his hands to his head and swore, before looking around, at the part of the floor that still smoldered a bit. He turned to the table, scattering the bits of crap McGuinness left lying around-- and what was he looking for? A rag? To do what? Clean up after himself? He swore and kicked a tire in frustration. That girl was still outside banging away and yelling. His shoulders hunched. He could just hear her--

Mutant. Freak.

Suddenly the banging stopped, but then there was a loud creak. And then a clank and a groan, Donal turned in time to watch the hatch snap and --improbably start rolling back, carrying the door up with it, thus revealing Jennie, thoroughly annoyed, holding up her hands with her fingertips glowing red.

"What I was going to say before I was interrupted," Jennie said, lowering her hands. "Is that I'm one too."

---

"I don't believe it," He said, a few minutes later. They were sitting on one of the tables, mugs of tea in hand. "This whole time? You--?"

"And Winston," said Jennie.

"Both of you mutants?"

"Yup," Jennie said, blowing a little at the steam on her mug.

"How did you two find that bit out?"

"Well, he and his friends tried to mug me."

"No--"

"Yup, and I beat the ever-living hell out of them."

"Is that how you broke your foot?"

"Nah, I did that in ballet practice. Two months ago."

"So you mean to tell me you took out a bunch of teenagers while on crutches? That's impossible!"

"Improbable," Jennie said with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Never impossible. Besides, they were like wee little babies. I felt guilty for beating them up, but one of them had a knife and they just needed to learn not to mug annoyed girls on crutches."

Jennie sighed, and rubbed her nose.

"Winston did get my Tesco card. And he read my info off of it-- he's some sort of electropath, can read computers like they were minds and does something with electricity-- and tracked me to my Tesco and he starts begging me to teach him how to fight like that. And then he says he knows I'm a mutant and he's one too and he wants me to be his yoda."

"Yoda?" Donal said, laughing. "He actually said that?"

"Yeah. And I said that I didn't do what he did, that he'd need someone who knew his powers better, and he was all 'and where am I gonna find that?' Couldn't argue with him there," she said dryly.

"So what do you do, if you don't mind me askin'? I mean, how did you get the door to do that?" both of them look over at the door, which had to be hand-wenched back closed.

Jennie made a face. "Sorry about that, by the way. Um," she shifted her weight back onto the table, thinking. "It's a bit tricky to explain. You ever read up on chaos theory? Like if a butterfly flaps it's wings--?"

"Yeah, starts a hurricane on the other side of the world."

"So, like, there's something called probability. Every little probability can lead to an even bigger possibility, a butterfly flaps it's wings, big fucking hurricane, yadda yadda. Like that lamp, over there? As it's sitting, it can do any number of things. It could rust, it could short out and break, it could fall over, or it could turn itself on."

"But it's not doing that now."

"Right, but it's a possibility. At some point any of those things are possible. Some of good, some of it bad."

"And you can make it do any one of those things?"

"Yup, observe," Jennie produced a small, glowing white disk. With a casual flick of her wrist she sent it at the lamp. There was a small 'ting' sound, and then the lamp turned on.

"Jaysus."

"So in all probability, there's luck, like, always getting a green traffic light, and there's chaos, like your toaster always shorting out. I'm just some weird little switch that can cause both to happen. I can't predict what exactly it will do, but something either "good" or "bad" will happen. And both will happen to me," she said with a sigh.

"So that foot of yours?" He nodded at her cast.

"Very, very bad luck," Jennie said, sipping more of her tea.

Donal nodded and took a drink of his own. "How long have you known?"

"I was about twelve? I think?" Jennie wrinkled her nose in concentration. "Blew up a microwave during a fight with my Mom. One minute we're both yelling at each other and the next-- zot!" Jennie flicked her fingers. "Goodbye microwave. How did you find out?"

Donal cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

Jennie made a face. It always was a crapshoot when it came to manifestations. She should have guessed that his had been a poor one. "That good, huh?"

"Nah, it's not bad, all things considered. But it's not something I've ever really told someone before. It was really... slow. I used to be a short little shite, you know? Didn't hit puberty until I was 15, and then I grew a foot in a summer."

"Ouch," Jennie said, wincing.

"Yeah, and then weird things started happening. I was fast before, and now that I was tall I was really fast," he ran a hand through his hair. "Too fast. ...And too strong."

Jennie leaned forward, mug in hands.

"I-- This all happened after me Mam died, so me Da wasn't paying so much attention. And it was great, at first. Suddenly I was so much better at sport. Suddenly I was tall. Suddenly girls liked me," he smiled ruefully. "But then there was something wrong with my eyes."

Jennie titled her head at him, and he set down his mug and reached up, pressing his fingertip to his eye, pulling out his contact lens. The beautiful green eyes that had Mrs. Bhamra in a tizzy were a lie. His eyes were actually bright red.

"Woah," Jennie said.

"Didn't do that right away, mind, just bits of red in 'em. Me eyes are actually brown. Or they were... before. But the brown contacts make 'em look purple, green cancels 'em out." He carefully put the contact back in, blinking rapidly. "They took me to the doctor and when the nurse tried to draw blood--" he made a face. "I melted the needle as soon as they stuck it in me. Me blood turns to acid once it hits air. We don't know why it does that, never been able to get a sample of it. It just eats through everything." He looked at the dark spot on the floor and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Geez," Jennie said.

"I'll never forget the nurse telling my father that I was a mutant. 'I'm sorry Mr. McGrath, but I'm afraid your son is a mutant.' Like I had fucking cancer or something," he exhaled. "My eyes went completely red not long after. And suddenly I was not very well-liked among my classmates. Me Da and I moved here as soon as a new school term started, fresh start and all that. I've been able to hide it pretty well these last few years. With occasional slip-ups." He said dryly, taking another swig of tea.

"I'm sorry," Jennie said, inadequately. "It's... yeah. I can pass, but my powers are pretty visible, I couldn't control them very well for the first few years and it got out pretty easy what I was..." she trailed off and shook her head. "Kids fucking suck, dude."

Donal nodded. "I think we need something a bit stronger," he hopped off the table and went to his locker, rummaging until he came up with a green bottle of Jameson's. He opened it and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ta," Jennie said, and he poured her a helping. "Talking about the past always needs a good dose of my dear friend alcohol."

"Cheers to that," he poured himself a helping of his own, and they clinked mugs. "Slainte." He winced as he took a drink.

"So how'd you learn to do that bit with the lamp then? That takes some practice."

"Eh," Jennie swirled the contents of her mug. "Some I figured out on my own... some of it came later. I got lucky, there's a ...school. In America. Helps out young mutant kids. They found me, and helped me out," Jennie shrugged.

"There's a school for people like us?"

"It's not like, well advertised or anything. Obvious reasons," Jennie said, and Donal nodded. "A lot of us are runaways, or don't have families anymore, or really have a safe place for us at home," Jennie shrugged. "They take us in, house us, feed us, teach us how not to blow ourselves up, and then send us on our way," she smiled. "It's 'cause of them I was able to get into college, and then got myself here," then she shook her head and made a face at her cast. "Well, before I royally cocked that one up."

She took another drink before continuing. "That's why I couldn't say no to Winston. He wants to learn... needs to learn. And because somebody taught me when I needed it I decided to do it. Paying it forward and all that."

Donal frowned. "Why not tell him about that school of yours?"

"I tried, but he's got his Gran and his kid brother he refuses to leave. So I just muddle along with him the best I can."

Donal nodded and looked thoughtfully at the remains of his tea and whiskey.

"D'you think you could possibly... train me?"

Jennie almost snorted tea up her nose. "What?"

"I know what I do-- it's a bit weird, yeah. But I don't think I want to hide anymore, you know? I'm tired of it. Also wouldn't mind you teachin' me to fight." He smiled. "--I can fight, done plenty on me own, but you make it so... pretty."

Jennie made a face. "Pretty?"

"You beat up a bunch of muggers on crutches. Come on. You know how to fight. Teach me."

Jennie's mouth worked soundlessly for a minute, while she tried to come up with a reason to say no. Winston was already so much of a handful, the thought of another made her tired. But still, he had asked for help. And two would make it easier on her, because then they could practice on each other while she was still gimpy.

She exhaled. "Okay," she said. And Donal smiled. A genuine smile, his eyes lit up and he sat up straighter.

"Yeah?" he said, not hiding the excitement in his voice.

'God, how could I say no to that?' Jennie thought ruefully. "Yeah," she said, and smiled.