"What's the extent of your powers?"

Finn sat cross legged at the foot of my four poster bed, twiddling his neon green painted thumbs. I lay up against my pillows, facing him.

I adjusted myself. "Well, it's one thing really, I can control minds. Not read them, unfortunately, that would have been cooler. How it works from what I've witnessed is that I strip your subconscious of free will."

He tilted his head in thought. "Is it hard to control what you say?"

I shrugged. "When I first discovered them, I couldn't at all control what I said. I would throw words in anger, never out of pure conscious thought. That's why my parents left."

Finn frowned. He put a hand on my shin in comfort. I smiled softly.

"That must have been hard. Losing them," Finn commented.

"It should have," I admitted. "But after the first week, I was glad. For them and for me."

"I don't understand," he replied.

I looked into his confused eyes as he searched for answers. His pink bottom lip caught in his teeth, worn down in worry.

"I told them to, one by one. Father wasn't happy, he realized, when I showed signs of being gay, that mother was a reckless woman. A careless, soul taking woman. I told him to leave and find happiness," I explained. "Mother left a few months after. I heard one of the many prayers for God to smite me for my supposed sins. She told me she loathed me and I told her to leave and forget every memory of me."

I felt the tears drip from my chins as I revisited those memories. Those cold years leading to my shackles being broken from my mother's doting figure. I laughed through the pain.

"I still love her. After the years of drowning me in false judgment and shoving the bible down my throat, I should want nothing to do with her. I should want to forget she ever knew me. But I don't because a son never leaves his mother."

Pale fingers brushed down my cheeks. Finn flashed a comforting smile as he wiped away my tears. He reached for a wave of my dyed black hair and moved it from my eyes.

"I miss my redhead."

I chuckled. "Well, you gotta the black haired, wannabe Bruce Wayne now."

He giggled. "Bruce Wayne is hot."

I reached up to tickle him and he squirmed onto the bed from straddling my thighs. His giggles and cute little snorts filled the silence as I ruthlessly dug my fingers into his sides.

"I surrender!" He pleaded.

"Nope! You gotta say, 'Eoin is hotter than Bruce Wayne'!" I bargained.

He let out a couple of dramatic gasps. "I'll never betray my husband!"

"So be it!"

It continued for a few minutes until he wiggled his way out my grasp and rolled right onto the floor. His little limbs flailed before an audible thump followed.

"Ow," he weakly groaned.

I clambered off the bed, onto the floor, and looked over him. He sat unfazed as I looked over him like a paranoid mother.

"Are you okay? You took a heavy fall," I rambled.

"I'm fine," Finn mumbled. "Now that I can do...this! HAHA!"

The little squirt threw me off guard long enough to gather momentum to flip me onto my back and straddled my hips to tickle me. At least, attempt to tickle me. After a few minutes of laughing maniacally and rubbing his baby fingers into my chest and sides, his cackles subside as he realizes that I'm not squirming or moving at all underneath him. Just staring blankly with the ghost of a smile on my lips.

"Have I ever told you that I'm not ticklish?"

"You suck."

A grin spread slowly across my lips. I lifted my hands up to his side, lightly grabbing him before shoving his body back underneath me. He let out a little squeak at the sudden movement, and then let out a huff of frustration.

I leaned in close to the point where our noses brushed against each other. Finn's eyes narrowed onto my eyes in speculation.

"Say it," I whispered.

He pushed against my hold and leaned further up, our lips near millimeters apart.

"Not a chance."

I smirked. "Tease."

"Giant."

"Midget."

"Playboy."

"Hey now, that's not a bad thing. I get all the babes I can handle," I jokingly protested.

He laughed at that against my mouth, his breath mingling with mine. We were so comfortably close, just a centimeter more and I would crush my lips to his. I think he noticed that too because his lips started to mesh with mine.

"Eoin! Finn! There you two are."

"Really," Finn mumbled against my lips.

"She's your sister," I poked.

I turned to see Quinn standing at the double doors to my bedroom. Her face was full of joy and mischief as she stared at us on the carpet.

"Am I interrupting something?" She wondered.

"Yes, the belittling of Eoin's Bruce-Wayneness," Finn spoke beneath me.

"That requires you being underneath him and very close to each other's faces?"

"Yes."

"Apparently so," I agreed.

She rolled her eyes. "Well when you guys finish having air sex, breakfast will be waiting for you."

Quinn closed the doors behind her and we both let out an audible sigh of relief. We made eye contact and Finn blushed at my gaze.

"Uh, um. I think we should, uh, head downstairs," he stuttered.

My eyes widened and I sat up. "R-right. Gotta get the morning started right, right?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Right!"

We awkwardly untangled ourselves with shy glances at each other. He walked ahead of me, shaking his hair to fix his bed head. I sheepishly fixed my pants before putting on a hard expression.

Finn turns back to me prior to opening the door, frowned and continued to go into the hallway.

We walked into the kitchen, greeted by the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh cut vegetables. The kitchen staff cooked and prepped joyously and nodded with a smile at us.

"Onions and tomatoes in your omelet, sir?" Martha, the head cook, addressed.

"Yes, please," I agreed.

"And for you, Master Finnbar?"

I chuckled under my breath as Martha continues to use Finn's whole name. She silently enjoys the grimace that goes across his face whenever the Irish derived name slips out her mouth.

"I'll have the same with a little bacon if you please, Ms. Martha," Finn politely requested with a sigh.

"Certainly!" She exclaimed as she reached over to pinch his cheek and gave it a wiggle.

Quinn and Penelope were giggling from dining room, watching Finn's face brighten with blush. They were seated in the middle, snuggled up with a plate each surrounded by serving plates of pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, yogurt, cut fruit, and waffles.

We walked through the kitchen into the dining room, taking the seats facing them. Finn barked at the girls in annoyance and they continued to coo and aw at his reaction. I watched Finn closely as the red took over his cheeks. The way his grass green eyes turn emerald with his emotions. His button nose pointed up as he justified himself. The many other ways he stays so beautiful no matter what.

"Here you are, Masters. Enjoy your breakfast, behave girls. Little Finn wants to be in peace," Martha tsked as she set down the steaming plates of stuffed eggs.

Finn hummed and nodded in agreement since he already had a piece of omelet shoved in his mouth.

"Well, you're my hero regardless..."

Regardless the danger? The widespread fear? The body count?

He turned to flash a cute little smile at me. I couldn't help but melt at the innocence in his face. The innocence I could ruin if I couldn't learn to control my own control.

"Good morning, Chester, Cheshire County. I'm Tonya Riley, here to report the morning news. This morning, two homeless men, George Wilkin, age 42, and Newton Roberts, age 39, were reported dead inside Eli's Deli. Cause of death, self-inflicted stab wounds before bleeding out. Police still investigate motive. Store owner and cashier last night say the two men were charging towards the register as if to rob the deli, but stopped a few feet away and proceeded to violently stab their chests. The most shocking piece of evidence found on the victims' bodies were suicide notes saying, 'The Devil made me do it.' Sources say a beginning serial murderer or kingpin of a cartel could be a key in this freak suicide. He or she remains at large and extremely dangerous. This is the second similar reported suicide to happen in the last year. If you have any tips..."

I watched in horror as the deli CCTV surveillance camera footage played the two thugs committing suicide. I felt the humanity leave me as the blood left their lifeless bodies.

"They look so...scared," Penelope commented. "Like they don't want to do it."

I could see Finn send worried glances towards me in the corner of my eye.

"Whoever this devil is, we're all in danger," Quinn added.

"I'm sure this is just a copycat suicide. People do that," I fearfully said.

Penelope shook her head. "They didn't look determined; they looked frightened out of their minds. Someone made them do it."

The pure disgust painted across the girls' faces was a stab to my sanity. I felt sick, the fact that the idiots set me up was not in the game plan. I was supposed to silently prevent the bad to happen. But I only lead the bad to prevent me from helping at all, with 'devil' stamped clearly on my image.

They pushed me into the shadows, to lurk like Death in the night.