Saint Joseph School

Part 1:

It had been a few days now since the war had begun. Jake had been undecided what do to. He was ushered into the school along with most of the other students, when it all started, and had been there ever since. Some of the other 'supers' of the student body had went out to fight, some never to return, and yet he still stayed. Walking past the community board, he watched as the list of missing and dead, both students and family of students, grew by leaps and bounds.

“What am I doing here?” He asked himself, again. While he always answered his own question with “I don't know,” the truth was he did not want to end up on that list. Later that night, he was in his quad. He was alone. He assumed his roommates out helping the heroes of the city, and yet, here he lay, a coward. It was then that he resolved to leave the next day, go out and help as he could. He was not a fighter, he was a healer.

The next day he awoke early, and found his roommates sleeping. He looked over them, in their troubled sleep. One tossed and turned, as if still fighting in his sleep. Jake laid a finger softly on his forehead, a light blue aura spread from his fingertip and made a halo around the distressed boy's head. As he pulled his hand away, the sparkling light faded into the boy's hair, and he relaxed. “Clear your mind, my friend,” Jake whispered. “Tired and weary is no way to fight.”

He tried to be quiet as he got ready, pulling on a black t-shirt and jeans, he went down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. The place was normally quiet this time of the morning, but with all the added stress, many of the students found comfort in numbers, and thus it was mildly busy. He grabbed some food, and sat off by himself, watching and listening as he ate. He overheard stories of fighting the Rikti as they appeared, seemingly without end, from the massive drop ships flying over as they attacked cities. He heard stories of the bombs dropping, exploding buildings and people alike. He felt a chill as one distraught girl told of a hero who was helping her get back to the school. The hero was killed, died so fast the medicom system never had a chance to trigger. Jake felt bad for her, she would never be the same again, ever.

By the time he was done eating, and ready to make his way out, he was unusually somber. He knew that this day could very well be his last. He had taken time to write a letter, left in his locker, telling his parents of what he was doing, why he was doing it, and that he was very sorry if something ever happened to him.

“This is who I want to be,” he had wrote, “Call it fate, call it what you will. What happened to me happened for a reason, and now I am here, helping people, healing them. If I die doing this, then so be it. Know that you son died doing what he believed in. You can say, without doubt, that your son died a hero.” He had felt strange calling himself a hero, he didn't really believe it himself. But he had hoped that perhaps it would give them some little extra comfort should that letter ever have to be delivered. He truly hoped that one day soon, he would be able to burn it.

He left the school, entering into the city. He had his comm, and turned it to listen in on the public broadcast and open channel shared by anyone in range. It was quiet now. From the little chatter he heard, it seemed the last Rikti attack was some hours ago. He also overheard talk about the war zone. Perhaps that was where he needed to be. He made his way to the Vanguard building in Atlas.

Upon arriving he was about to walk through the door when the guard stepped in front of him. “Where do you think you are going, kid? This is area restricted to heroes.” He was a large man, all muscle. He looked down on Jake like he was a lost toddler in a mall or something.

Jake was scared, but he forced his voice out. It was a little shaky at first, but slowly became clear. “I am a hero.”

The man chuckled. “Yeah, aren't we all? Go back home kid, it could get dangerous out here without notice.”

He wasn't sure what to do. Then he remembered his ID card. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed to the man.

“What is this, school pictures?” The man took the card, looked at it and realized his mistake. “Oh,” he said, staring at it for a moment longer. “I just gotta verify this.” he said, his tone betrayed his embarrassment. He turned and held the bar code under a scanner attached to the wall. Jake couldn't see what it said, but apparently it was a good enough answer for man. He handed the card back, “Hey look, sorry about that. It's just bad in there, okay? Too many people going in, and too few coming back out.” The man's expression had changed, he looked sad and tired. Just be careful, alright?” He turned and opened the door.

Jake nodded at the man, reached up and patted his shoulder. “Don't worry. I'm just support. I'm going to try and help a few more back, any way I can.”

The man smiled as Jake walked in. Jake was somewhat surprised with himself. He had wanted to turn tail and run when the guard was bearing down on him like that. He silently wondered if he would have that same confidence when he was face to face with the Rikti.

He walked through the warehouse, seeing some heroes going in before in, and a few coming out, looking tired and defeated. Many had torn and bloody clothes. One man was barely walking, supported by a friend. As he walked past Jake could hear him crying softly, mumbling a name that wasn't clearly heard. He friend was trying to help him, and Jake overheard “It's not your fault, she knew the risk,” as they headed for the exit.

Jake paused. He could only imagine what happened. Now he was more determined than before. He turned and got in line for the shimmering blue portal. As he slowly made his way up, he tried to envision what it would be like, then quickly gave up. Finally it was his turn. He knew there were people behind him, waiting as he was. No one said anything about his age, but he was sure some where wondering what a kid was doing here. Without hesitation, he reached out, and touched the portal. A blueish-white light filled his eyes, and for a moment he was weightless, floating as on a raft at sea. Then the light faded and he was there, in the base.

Part 2:

He stumbled as a force pushed him forward. A solider, a younger guy in his twenties, reached out a grabbed his arm. “Whoa, easy now.” He help Jake off the ramp, over to side. “First time in?” his tone was friendly with some concern. “Don't worry, most people get a little dizzy the first few times, you'll get use to it.” He guided Jake over to some chairs. “Here ya go, sit down a second and you'll be okay.”

Jake felt lightheaded, like he spun in circles while sitting down and then jumped up, draining the blood from his head. He stammered out a thanks, and the solider turned back to his post, ready to assist anyone else who needed it.

Jake took a few seconds to let his head and stomach settle, then stood and went in the general direction of everyone else. A large sign with large letters for “New Heroes” gave him some general information: who was in charge, where to start, what you need to do before you are permitted to leave the base. He took some time walking around, meeting people and going over the presentations. At the end, he felt scared, but ready. Out there were people that needed his help, and he was determined not to let them down.

Once he walked down the hallway, and exited the based, he was overwhelmed by the comm traffic. He exited the building, and stood near the two large robotic guards. He could hear people talking, advertising their want to join a team a help take down the Pylons that Jake had heard so much about the past hour. He waited for a lull, and clicked on his mic. “Um, Moon Tide here, I am willing to help.” He clicked it off and waited for the soft beep that preceded a private message. But all he got was overlapping voices wondering “where the kid came in,” “what happened to your baby sitter,” and “did they cancel school, too?” And some laughing.

Jake sighed to himself, but waited a few minutes, waiting to see if anything would happen. The chatter quickly went back talk of attacking the Pylons, and then the ship itself. He was considering leaving the area, going back and trying to figure out another way to help when he heard some shouts for help. Turning, he saw six people coming towards him. Three of them were assisting the other three, who were clearly wounded. Once they got closer, he could see all them had various burns and cuts around the body and clothing. The three that were being helped had it much worst. One, a skinny male, limped along with help from a slim female in a matching outfit, his right leg bloody from a small, but deep looking wound on his thigh. The next, a woman, didn't have any visible wounds, but was unconscious, being carried by a large, muscular male, a grim look on his face. The last pair was average girl who was somehow helping another large male along. It seemed that his body, which sported a large hole burned into the front, right into his flesh, would crush the smaller woman, but she held him up as easy one would hold an umbrella.

As the got almost to him, he realized they would be going to the medical ward of the base, which was pitifully small. When recalled when he left that is was nearly overflowing with wounded from the last assault on the ship. Was this his chance to help? He decided to try.

As they got closer, he moved out some. “Got some wounded? I can help you.”

The rough looking group paused for a moment, and those who could regarded him with an very annoyed look. The big guy with the plasma wound grunted with pain. Jake guessed the wound to be second degree, very painful. The woman holding him shook her head. “Stop bothering us kid, Jane here is dying!” She was angry and started forward again. Before the rest could continue, Jake stopped them again.

“Wait! The hospital is over filled. I am out here offering help. I can help her,” he looked back at the other two pairs, “I can help you all.” They all stared at him, and he felt himself flush. Look down, he trailed off, “If you want it, that is.”

The large man managed to force out, “Check! This hurts like hell!” It was mostly grunted through clenched teeth. The other woman placed one finger on the comm link in her ear and spoke softly. The response must have been quick, for she said, “He's right.” in less than a second after the question.

Jake didn't waste time for a group consensus, he moved quickly to the woman who was out cold. “What happened?” He asked as even looking at her back, saw now wounds that would be life threatening.

The slim man with the leg wound spoke, “Those damn mind ones,” he paused to draw in a pained breath, “They hit it something, and she just drifted out, dropped right there.” He sounded sad, like he was responsible.

Jake nodded. “Well, I'm more on the physical sides of this, but let me try.” With her friend's help, Jake got her down on the ground. He placed held his hands out just away from her ears. He closed his eyes and focused. If he could clear out whatever was holding her mind prisoner, he hoped she would be freed. Soft blue balls of light danced between his palms and her head. He could feel the wall in her mind. He envisioned it in his head, like a brick wall holding back water. The blue dots, now much larger in the picture in his head, shot out and bounced off the wall. But there were a lot of them, hundreds of them shooting out from out of frame to bounce, and start chipping the wall, leaving cracks, and at last a small hole popped, and the entire wall came down around it. The water washed out, and rose up to fill the picture, and Jake opened his eyes to find himself looking into the woman's eyes. She sighed loudly and said, “Wow, that sucked,” and chuckled. Her friends where relieved and now looked at Jake without the annoyance.

Next, he turned his attention to the plasma burn. He had the man sit down, and Jake passed his hands over the wound. Soft green light radiated from his hands. The skin, with a sicking sound, regrew quickly, as if watching a stop-motion film. The man's face, taught with pain just seconds ago, relaxed. The man closed his eyes and let out a long, contented, “Ah.”

Smiling, Jake turned at last to the bullet wound. “Damn Malta here, too.” he said as Jake examined it. “Here looking to scrounge up some tech, I bet. Took a few shots at us as we were coming back, and got me down.”

Jake suppressed a grimace as he looked at the wound. There was no exit wound, so the bullet was still in there. Looking up to his team mate he said, “Hold him tight,” his gazed moving to the man's face, “This will hurt.”

The man squished up face, keeping his eyes closed tightly. Jake place just the fingertips of his forefingers on either side of the wound, as if pointing at where the bullet at stopped. A slight, almost unseen bit of green light trickled out from under his nails. The name grunted in pain, took long breathes to try to avoid crying out. I bet this is hunting more coming out then it went it, Jake thought. He looked right into the wound, making the muscle heal just behind the bullet, slowly forcing it back out. A few agonizing seconds later, and the bullet popped out, clanging off the cement and leaving a perfectly circle scar. “Ow!” the man let out at last. Jake smiled and others chuckled.

Jake stood up. The man with the wounded leg stood back on his leg, testing some pressure on it and nodded in satisfaction. The plasma burn victim was also standing, nothing to show for his pain except a large hole in his shirt. The woman who was lost in her own mind was also standing, talking softly to her friend. The group started talking among themselves, relieved at each others safety. Jake was forgotten again, and started to walk back into the base. “Hey wait!” came the voice of the woman Jake helped first. She came over to him. “Thanks. I doubt those army medics in there could of helped me. Thanks for my friends, too.” She leaned in quickly and gave Jake a quick hug.

“Um, your welcome.” Jake stuttered at last, blushing.

The woman giggled softly, and returned to her friends.

Jake turned and entered into the base. He had an idea. Instead of being out on the front lines, he would try to help back here. Those who got hurt badly but the constant attacked didn't always get through the medical transporter system fast enough, only so many people can be handled at once. He could help them, those unlucky ones.

Now he just had to prove himself to whoever ran the hospital ward.

Part 3:

Jake entered back into the base. So many people, heroes and villains alike, were coming and going he had to be careful to keep in line, or else get trampled along the way. He rounded the corner and looked for the person in charge of the medical ward.

The place was woefully understaffed, and Jake half expected to be drafted on the spot. He came into the sectioned off area and found a slim man with glasses and a stained lab coat. Jake stood for a few seconds, and took a deep breath.

Walking up to the man he said, “Excuse me, are you in charge here?”

The man seemed annoyed by the interruption, and barely looked up from some charts. “Yeah, what do you want?”

“I want to help,” Jake said, plainly. “It's been made clear I can't do much out there,” he jerked his thumb towards the exit. “But I can here.”

The doctor looked up at last. Jake did his best not to shrink under cold stare of the man. “What are your qualifications?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but was unsure to what to say. At least he shrugged, “I heal people. It's what I do.”

“So, no formal training? What, are you even out of high school yet?” The doctor scoffed and shook his head.

Jake flushed with anger. Dammit! He thought to himself. He took a slow breath and tried to relax. “Please, just let me try. If there was something I could do?”

The doctor looked back up, this time very annoyed, “Look, kid, I appreciate the help, but I just can't have you helping here...” He took a breath to try and explain when a buzzer stopped him. He looked over at one of the medicom units, where heroes and villains end up once their medibadge is triggered. The buzzer was not normally associated with it. Just as Jake was wondering what that meant, he found out. A flash of light, and a female figure appeared, dressed all in white, well it use to be all white. There were burn marks all over, and a red streak down the front. Once the rings holding her up moved away, she crumpled to the ground, and lay unmoving.

While Jake was shocked to see this happen, the doctor was shouting orders, and people were coming to aid her. A bed was moved from close by and they lifted her up and onto it. Jake moved around to better see and her problem was clear: a large gash from just below her rib cage on the right side leaving a jagged wound up to just under her left breast. It was hard to tell how deep it went.

For a frantic few minutes the doctors and his aids attempted to help, a flurry of activity around her. But at last they all slowed and stopped. Looking sadly down at her, the doctor cursed. “It was just too bad, she's gone.” The dull flat line tone that Jake just now started to hear was silenced. They were getting ready to move her back, back to where ever all the other dead were kept.

“Wait!” Everyone looked at Jake. He didn't even realize he said it. Now he mentally took control of his body, pushing out fear and doubt. “She's not gone, not yet.” He would have been surprised at his cool, calm tone, if he had been paying attention to it. He walked to her side, and just as the doctor started to protest, he laid his hands across the wound. The green aura building around his hands made the doctor pause, and the aids just watched.

Jake tuned out the world around him, the talking, the noise, the lights. All that existed was him and her. Only once before had he tried to heal something this bad, and then he needed help. The doubt tried to reenter, a gray, shadowy field trying to fill his vision. He blinked slowly, he was stronger now, more focused. The doubt subsided, and it was time to work. He could sense where muscle was suppose to be connected to the bone. Where the vital organs were sliced, destroyed, he could see them reconnecting, fixed. The green aura around his hands grew their own little wavy arms, and seeped into her body. They went deep, and as they touched parts of her, they came together, whole again. Slowly, he waved his hands back and forth over the horrible wound. At last he felt everything was back as it should be, and worked to close the skin over her torso.

Jake closed his eyes again, and when he opened them he had returned to the room, the noise, the light. The woman was still on the bed, still unmoving. Something wasn't right. Did he fail? Was it too late? Then it hit him, “Shock her!” The gathered people were either looking at him or the woman, in shock themselves at what they witnessed. Jake reached over and grabbed the doctor by the arm, shook him out of his stupor. “The paddles, you know!”

The man started shouting orders, and the monotone flat line resumed. One of the aids grabbed the paddles and quickly fiddled with the knobs and buttons on the machine. He swung around and applied them to her chest and side. “Clear!” he yelled and the zap of the electricity filled Jake's ears. The monitor beeped a few times, then returned to the flat line. The aid twisted and cranked a knob. “Clear!” Again and the buzz again went off.

This time the beeps kept steady, and the woman opened her eyes, gasping. She clutched where wound had been and felt for a few seconds. Sensing everything was okay, perhaps a dream, she laid back and relaxed.

Jake was exhausted. The doctor turned to find him leaning a counter. “What was that?” he asked, a confused tone in his voice.

Jake shook his head and shrugged. “I heal people.” He yawned, “It's what I do.”

Part 4:

It was late now, and Jake had returned to the school. He was tired and busy thinking about the events during the day. Healing wounds while following other heroes was much easier. He could see everything as it happened, and his work would flow right along with it. But this, with so many deadly, grievous wounds, it took so much energy to fix them. Getting back to the temporary shelter where they slept and actually going to sleep was a blur.

After healing the woman who was nearly cut in two, the doctor agreed that he could help. “However,” he had said, “The neighborhoods that are getting attacked are suffering much more than we are. Tomorrow, call me and I will let you know where to go.”

The next morning, Jake awoke early. It was hard to sleep with so many people close together. He got dressed and went to get a small breakfast. He made the call and was asked to report to to the Talos hospital. Ships had been reported and other heroes were on their way to help defend the area.

When he arrived, the emergency room doctor was ready. He would direct Jake to those who were too badly injured to be easily healed by normal methods. Jake spent the next hour or so feeling the blasts of the bombs outside and watching the heroes being teleported into the ER by their medicom badges. Many of them were fine, the system triggering and automatically healing many of the cuts and bruises. They were quickly back out on their way to continue assisting.

There were only a few that Jake had to attend to, one younger male had his leg severed when an bomb exploded near him. That was an easy fix compared to a middle aged woman who came in seemly unhurt, but nonetheless dead. Jake watched as the doctors went over her, trying CPR while trying to figure out what happened. He could sense her fighting to return. Then he remembered the woman back in the war zone, who was trapped in her own mind by the Rikti mentalists. He came around to her head as the doctors worked, and placed his palms on her forehead. Closing his eyes he searched for her, lost in her own head. He could sense the same barrier as before. Again he attacked it, using the small amount of mental control he had, and again broke down the wall, allowing her to return.

Opening his eyes, he looked at the monitor. She was back, alive again. Jake silently wondering how many people died, or were dying, from this kind of attack. Before he could dwell on it for long, an announcement came over the speakers that the Rikti had been driven back again.

Checking with the local doctor to make sure everything was taken care of that he help with, he made a call again, and once again was sent off to another area getting attacked. This kept up during the course of the day, moving from zone to zone. Sometimes Jake didn't even remember where he was.

One of these times, in the lull between work he was resting in the hall just outside of the main emergency room. This had been a bad one, and the hospital workers were moving non-critical patients to another ward, to make room. He was watching as people on beds were wheeled by, and then caught the look of someone he thought he knew. He jumped up and placed a hand on the bed. The attendants stopped, knowing he was there to help.

“What is wrong with her?” The young girl was unconscious, various tubes and sensors ran everywhere.

“We're not sure. We don't even know who she is. We think she was caught in an explosion, likely one of the bombs. She had a large shrapnel in her lower back.” The aid grabbed the chart hanging on the end of the bed. “It says they were able to get it out, and made some good work in getting everything repaired. But they don't know why she is still out.”

Jake looked her over. She had many small cuts along her face and down her arms. Maybe he could help her as he helped the others. He followed the attendants down to her new room, and placed his hands over her head. He closed his eyes and attempted to see inside. He was instantly in pain, all over his body. He clenched his teeth and tried to work through it, but after only a few seconds he forced himself to let go, and fell back into a chair, gasping for breath.

“Oh Kali, where have you been,” he said softly, holding a hand to his head. “Where are you now?”