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Rachel knew the groom—which was almost funny considering how she didn’t know almost anyone in this entire city. But somehow, she had managed to meet the groom while embarrassing herself by trying to pull of being a human gymnast in New York City. The invite hadn’t come to her directly, her parents had been invited and she had heard rumors that the bride was her dad’s ex-girlfriend and—Rachel had a headache. Telepathy or not, trying to keep up with the weird dynamics in the room, she floundered a bit. (And was confused as to why her dad was still talking to his ex. His taste in women, outside of her mother, had always been poor.)

Across the room, Rachel caught sight of Miguel and immediately was looking to run. Alcohol would have been an available choice—an open bar had been provided, but that would dampen her control and the last thing she needed was an incident here. (Plus, it would only prove to Miguel that she had no control over the thing inside her.) So, her options quickly dwindled down to outside and outside only. Rachel made a b-line for the door, ducking between people to avoid meeting his gaze, only to nearly clip Kitty in the side as she reached the door.

Jessica had been trying to branch out, but eventually, she ended up on the edge of the room. Watching as other people danced around, talking with each other. Comfortably to the side, Jessica sipped on her drink and watched, at least, until she saw Kitty at the food table reaching in for some chips. And what looked like double dipping. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. There was no way that Kitty would be double dipping at a party.

But then Jessica remembered the friends that Kitty kept, and she’d probably do anything for a dare — so Jessica moved fast. Reaching out to slap Kitty’s hand before she could dip her chip in, but Jessica’s hand went right through and a couple of her fingers ended up in the dip. There was a pause where Jessica didn’t react. A flat expression on her face before she looked at Kitty like she had betrayed her.

“The most upsetting thing about this… I can’t tell if this is a natural twenty for you, or a natural one for me.”

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Rachel could barely catch her breath, she was looking at an image of herself that was already running out the door of the school and the outfit — she’d never forget it. Never forget wearing it, never forget the look in her own eyes that she had just seen. (She could remember how she felt, she could remember feeling empty and then anger, it was always anger.) But this was her without someone telling her where to direct those feelings, a weapon without a purpose that was about to make one. 

Kitty spoke and Rachel couldn’t say when Kitty got there — didn’t know if she had summoned her with her mind — panicking about what she had seen — or if Kitty just knew where Rachel would be. “She’s going to kill someone,” Rachel said in a whisper, “ And that’s — that would be kind compared—” to what she had done. “We have to stop her.” But could they? When she had been in those shoes, her power wasn’t held back by anything but someone telling her to hold back. 

And no one was controlling her now. 

(How terrible it was to be free.) 

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Rachel’s feet were dangling off the edge of the roof. This had been a frequent spot for her in the past to get away and breathe. But where this would have been a desperate attempt to get away - tonight, it was comfortable. A space of safety where Rachel felt like she was allowed to exist. And Kitty’s contribution only cemented that feeling. “Anywhere?” Rachel was looking toward the stars, her voice as distant as the destinations she was considering.

“Does it still feel like I have a foot out the door?” She looked at Kitty fully now, pulling herself out of the daydream she had allowed herself to get lost in. “Because I don’t.” She hoped she didn’t have to say it, but for all the things she had hoped she didn’t need to explain or say - she had left too much written between the lines, hoping that Kitty would catch the hints and the feelings left behind in the fragments. “If I get to pick where I call home, I think this is a good place.” With good people.

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“Afraid I’ll make another ghost joke?” Rachel asked, grinning just slightly. It had been a year, hadn’t it? An entire year of being here and it was finally starting to feel like home. Filled with people she knew and people who she cared about and cared about her in turn. It didn’t dampen the fear that lingered, the thought that the Phoenix might flare-up in the middle of the night and drag her away to another dimension — but it was easier to forget those worries now. Easier to close her eyes at night and not have nightmares of a life she had left behind long ago. “I thought my joke was top-notch.”

A beat passed. Short and sweet before Rachel was leaning back, looking up at the sky and wondering what it’d look like next year. And if she’d be here. How many loose threads might she leave behind when she went? How much life would she have avoided by being too cautious? By being too afraid? “I know I don’t,” she finally replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But I’ve done a lot of that recently. A lot of… not talking. I’m not sure that was the right way to go anymore.” A touch of guilt marked her words. “Everyone is afraid of death — but how many are afraid to live?” How many stood frozen in front of their possibilities like Rachel had?

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