Monday started off well for Nick. The alarm clock woke him instead of A.J.. The alarm clock was floating as far up as its cord would let it, but at least sealing the room semed to have worked. He set everything back down and got up to face the day. It was the first day of rehearsals, an opportunity to work hard and forget everything else. He almost managed to project cheerfulness as he entered A.J.'s kitchen.
"Avoiding it isn't going to help, Nick."
The problem with living with a psychic lies in statements like that. A.J. hadn't even seen Nick yet, he was rummaging in the fridge, but he didn't need to see his friend's body language to read some of what Nick was feeling - or rather, what Nick was blocking out.
Leave me alone, Alex.
"Not for long," he was warned.
"So you're dealing better?" Nick fished an apple and some yogurt out of the fridge. A.J. accepted the change of topic with no comment.
"Yeah, I was on the phone to Mins yesterday. She said I needed to talk to you more, but if you're right, I uh, "have a mild case"."
Nick raised an eyebrow at him. "I told you what an emergence was like weeks ago. You were worried you might be a *strong* psychic?"
"Oh, bite me."
"No thanks." Nick took a final bite of his apple instead and tossed it into the sink. He let Panda lick the juice from his hands while he spoke. "I told you about all the types of psychics on the Net, but did I tell you about Receivers?"
"I don't think so."
"You'd remember if I did. One of the side-effects of being psychic, no matter what type or power level, is perfect recall." He glanced at his watch. "For instance, I recall it's time to get our asses in gear."
"Car pool?" A.J. offered. "I'll drive, you talk."
Nick grinned. ""Car pool", he says. You get a minivan when I wasn't looking, J?"
"So I'm guessing I'm a receiver, then?" A.J. prompted, once they were on the road. "How come I don't know about them? You holding out on me, boy?"
"Nah. They're just easy to forget."
"Why's that?" A.J. glanced at his companion, frowning.
"Eyes on the road, Bone." Nick reminded him. "It's not a prejudice thing, it's an ability thing. Receivers can't send. Their thoughts are louder than non-psychics when they want to be, more focused, but they can't actually send. Empaths, we used to call them, before we figured out they could pick up more than just feelings. They can barely make themselves noticed."
"So what can I do?"
"Hear stuff. People's thoughts, feelings, strong memories associated with places... you can even do a little fortune telling. Oh, and anchor."
An anchor, A.J. remembered, helped a teleport see where they were going. A person at the destination linked with the teleport and caught them safely. Anchors kept people from teleporting into the middle of a public scene... or worse, into the centre of a tree.
"Well that's helpful. But I thought you told me people couldn't see the future?"
"They can't. Real fortune telling is picking up on the person's current situation, sensing what they want, what's stopping them, internal or external, and giving a little advice. That's why no one can tell their own fortune. You need to be outside the situation." Nick looked at A.J. speculatively. "I don't think you're all that strong, even for a receiver, but this is gonna cause you some problems, J."
"Huh?"
"Mister I-Can't-Keep-My-Mouth-Shut is going to be giving advice 24-7, I can tell."
"And this is new how?" A.J. grinned. "Don't worry bout me, Nick. You've got enough to ignore for now."
"You and Mindi had a long talk, huh?" Nick tried to be mad about the idea, but knew A.J. was just looking out for him.
"You want to hear what she said?"
"Not yet."
"You sure?"
"Gimme a couple of days. I'll want to eventually."
A.J. pulled his car into the rehearsal space's parking lot. He took off his sungng lot. He took off his sunglasses and looked at his friend for a long moment. "How do you do that? How can you tell the absolute truth and still hold back like that?"
Nick shrugged. "Truth works - it's very therapeutic Alex." When A.J. waited for more he sighed and continued, "I've been doing this since I was twelve, man. It's a whole different society. But no-one..." He caught himself, blinking a few times before he continued, "Most of us don't go through life telling absolutely everything to anyone. Everyone's got secrets, it's just plain stupid to push everyone for everything. We're pretty blunt with each other, but you learn how to tell just a little more than you want to - eventually it ends up being good for you. If you say "Look, I can work it out by myself," everyone who knows you just pushes you to say more because that's a fucking lie. But if you say, "I can't talk about it right now, I'll go nuts. Give me some time?" They say, "That's cool" and try you again later. People know you're dealing with shit, so they look out for you - you don't piss as many people off, and when you do crack, not only have you *not* totally alienated everyone, you've let enough slip that they have an idea of what's going down."
A.J. nodded, accepting what had been said, and what hadn't. "Cool system," was all he said. They got out of the car and went to meet the others.
With the band, their choreographer Fatima, the tour manager Solomon and a few other of The Firm's flunkies around the other guys didn't have much opportunity to ask how Nick was doing. To outside eyes he was fine; focused, enthusiastic, ready to work. But when they broke for lunch, Brian grabbed a deli tray and marshalled the rest of group out into the parking lot.
He was all ready to ask Nick point-blank how things were going when Solomon emerged from the rehearsal space. "Nick, the nurse is here," he called out. "Gotta get yourself checked out."
"Does he have to go *now*?" Howie protested.
"Don't sweat it," Nick swiped a sandwich and stood up. "A.J. can fill you in. Later." He walked off and A.J. could feel the relief trailing from him as he went.
"That isn't healthy," Kevin began ominously.
"Don't push it," A.J. jumped in. "He told me he'll tell us stuff eventually, but he wants to get a better handle on things first. He'll talk when he's ready."
"In the meantime, *we* can talk," Brian asserted. "What's been going on since he left my place?"
"He hasn't been sleeping well, it's affecting my furniture."
"Uh oh," Kevin had a vision of Nick's area of the ICU completely in turmoil.
"Not as bad as back then," A.J. assured him. "It just all goes up. It's like waking up in the top bunk of a bunkbed you never knew you had. Without a ladder to get down."
Brian chuckled.
"His *point* is," Howie cut in, "This is really affecting Nick. He's all denial during the day but obviously he can't keep it all in while he's asleep."
"So we went for help."
"We?" Howie shot A.J. a look. "*We* did not do anything. *You* decided to call Mindi and see if she knew anything we didn't. You haven't told me how that went, yet."
"We got some time, Bone," Kevin encouraged. "Fill us in."