Silas' POV:
Honestly, I was looking forward to going home after having been arrested by the super secret police force dedicated to incarcerating people like me. I was going to go back to bed, watch a movie as opposed to the news, stay away from the internet where a multitude of articles would be posted about why they should have locked us all up years ago.
The day went by really uneventful, and I laid in bed, but I didn't feel really relaxed. I was tense as I sat at home in my familiar space, because even though I had no involvement in whatever murder occurred, I couldn't fight back the fear.
I kept Atticus' business card right by me at all times, because even though he was a cop who I shouldn't trust, there was an aura about him that attracted me and made me feel safe. If I were to be put in danger, he'd come much quicker than the standard police force and the others who respond to 911 calls.
In fact, whenever someone calls 911, the first thing they ask after saying "911 what's your emergency?" is "does this emergency include someone who was born with the Mistacesemia malfunction?"
And if you say yes, they take longer and send in the Oregon Supernatural Investigation Unit first to make sure that it's not dangerous. Even if Atticus is part of that unit, I think he'd be more helpful if I called just him if I happen to end up in a dangerous situation.
He'd probably actually show up and not try to kill me.
When I woke up the next morning, it was earlier than I expected; it was eight and I had a terrible feeling. I had gotten up and ran over to the wall in my room where I would be able to know no one was beside me.
Out of nowhere, the door flew off its hinges and I raised my hands, the energy I was cursed with flowing through me. I'm not very well trained when it comes to using the abilities I was born with, because I rarely use them, but I can defend myself against a human.
A figure clothed in a red shirt and tight, black pants entered the room, and before I had a chance toe react, they threw me against the wall with their own abilities.
Now, I was not expecting to be attacked by someone else with Mistacesemia! Aren't we supposed to stay somewhat united?!
The person aimed to throw me out the window, but I reacted and shoved them away with a small burst of my own energy, but before I had a second to fight back, they shot my side.
I'm pretty sure they were going to kill me by shooting me again, but sometimes near death experiences breed adrenaline, and that was my case. I managed to throw my attacker out the window and used the bit of energy I had left to drag my phone and Atticus' business card toward me, and called him.
He showed up in ten minutes, maybe less than that, and drove me to some doctor's office.
I was and am afraid, because I don't trust any doctor. All they want is to experiment and find a way to "cure" us, not caring how many of us they kill in the process. Some may call me paranoid, but if you had scary mind powers and a doctor with pointy tools was going to sedated you, you'd probably want to run too.
That's where I am now, sitting in a hospital bed while the doctor prepares a needle to knock me out.
"Hey, it's going to be okay," he says with a soft smile.
Okay, I cannot deny that he's pretty attractive, even though he's a doctor.
He has blond hair and hazel eyes, and his face is littered with freckles. There's a pair of glasses resting on his nose, and I kind of want to poke his nose, but I'm scared he'll stab me with the sedative if I try that.
"Don't cut me open," I whisper, my eyes locked on his. "I really would not appreciate that."
"I'll only cut where I need to in order to remove the bullet," he says, flicking the tip of the needle. "My name in Lincoln, by the way."
I watch as he slowly puts the needle into my arm, and he's very gentle about it. "Silas," I mutter as my mind goes a bit fuzzy. "If you kill me I'll haunt you."
"Noted," Lincoln says, the same reassuring smile on his lips as I drift off.
•••
"He's been asleep for a long time!" I hear Atticus exclaim, his voice nowhere near a whisper.
Lincoln scoffs. "I know you don't understand any of the monitors in here, but they show that he is perfectly fine. And, because of the differences in his genetics due to the malfunction, he heals quicker and didn't lose as much blood. It's so interesting, Atticus! His body essentially took control without him controlling it to prevent too much blood loss!"
He sounds like a kid in a candy store.
Cute.
He isn't one of the scary doctors I've always heard of; he's cute.
I open one of my eyes as Atticus continues to complain that I'm still asleep, and I'm honestly surprised he's still here. Doesn't he have a job where he's supposed to imprison innocent people?
"If you're not going to shut up, please leave," I comment, making both the doctor and the cop look over at me. "I'm surprised I'm still in one piece... thanks for not dissecting me, doc."
Lincoln rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.
He's cute when he smiles.
"I didn't realize non-related visitors were allowed in the room," I comment, looking directly at Atticus. "Am I getting arrested or something?"
Atticus shakes his head. "Uh, no, I just wanted to make sure you were alright..." He trails off and looks to Lincoln. "Plus, I had to bring him lunch."
"Lunch?" I ask, before the numbers add up in my head. "Ohhhh, he's the boyfriend, isn't he?"
"The boyfriend?" Lincoln asks, looking between the two of us.
Atticus chuckles. "Yes, when I carried Silas to my car to get him here he said it was like we were married and I said my boyfriend probably wouldn't like that," he explains to Lincoln, making his boyfriend blush.
"Stop feeling jealous, Silas! You have never liked anyone in your life! Why should now be any different?" I ask myself as Lincoln sits beside me and begins to take my blood pressure.
"Is that bad?" Atticus asks, pointing to the monitor as the lines start moving faster than they were before.
Lincoln frowns. "Are you afraid right now?" he asks me, pulling his hands away. "Your heart rate is getting pretty high for being a supposed resting heart rate."
I nod, because there is no way that I'm telling Lincoln that the only reason my heart rate is skyrocketing has to do with him getting close to me.
Agh!
"Stop, Silas," I think firmly, trying to relax. "You're just feeling like this because people are actually being nice to you, despite knowing what you are. You don't like them, you're just grateful."
"Are you hungry?" Atticus asks. "Silas?"
I look up at him. "What?"
"Are you hungry?" he asks once again. "He can eat, right?"
Lincoln smiles sweetly at Atticus, and I fight the surge of jealousy I feel.
I've never felt jealous before, except for when I was a kid and my siblings got to go into an ice cream parlor that I wasn't allowed in.
"He should eat," Lincoln tells Atticus. "Silas, what's your favorite place to eat? I need to finish up some tests and it'll take me about an hour, so you can go get food."
I don't respond, surprised that these two are being so attentive to someone that they have surely been taught to fear!
"I can eat when I get home," I say, because I don't have my wallet on me and I'd rather save my money for a hotel because there is no way that I'm going back to my apartment. "Uh... did you catch the person who tried to kill me?"
Atticus huffs. "No, the bastard got away," he growls. "I don't suppose you recognized or got a name from them?"
"No, the asshole was too busy trying to kill me. Should've told them it's rude to murder someone without introducing yourself first." I lay my head back and sigh. "Can you drive me back to my apartment when I'm released? I have my health insurance card there and all of my stuff."
"My work partner and I already went through and took anything that we thought you'd need because our boss has taken over your apartment and taped it off as a crime scene," Atticus says, handing me my backpack. "You're welcome to stay with us for a while, until your apartment is no longer under our boss' control."
I shake my head. "No thanks. You two don't know me and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Please?!" Lincoln begs, surprising both myself and Atticus. "Sorry... it just... even though I'm a specialist when it comes to the Mistacesemia malfunction, I've never gotten to see any adults with it up close, since the morality rate is so high."
"So... you want to study me?" I ask, and Lincoln's face goes red.
Atticus seems to be on Lincoln's side, which makes sense because he suggested I stay with them. "How about this: we let you stay with us for a couple of weeks, rent free, and you let Lincoln study you."
"It's not even really 'studying,'" Lincoln mumbles. "It's more of an observational process. I won't poke you with anything or ask for blood or plasma tests... just observing you using your abilities."
I'm not stupid; there's no reason I should trust either of these two normal people, especially because they are a doctor and a cop, two of the breeds of people that Mistakes hate the most. However, the desire and amazement in Lincoln's eyes, and the humor in Atticus' makes me want to believe they won't hurt me.
"Fine," I say, wincing when I notice my heart rate going up again.
Lincoln seems a bit confused and excuses himself to go finalize the report he put together for me, leaving myself and Atticus alone in the room.
"I know your heart rate isn't going up because you're scared," he tells me, making me feel fear crawl up inside of me. "You've been blushing since Lincoln sat beside you."
He leaves before I have a chance to argue, and now I'm terrified to move in with him.
How do I know that Atticus won't murder me for crushing on his boyfriend?!
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