Revelations

The tram shudders around a bend, and your thumb slips, pressing the power button by mistake. Your phone screen blacks out, and for a fleeting second you see her, yourself: Elizabeth Patton. Liz for the world. Alazabt for no one outside your blood.

Then the screen lights up again, and the Mayor's voice returns in your ear.

-...the investigation of last night's incident is still proceeding. For now, the Commissioner has told me that the terrorism lead can be excluded...-.

You snort softly: "She must be livid.", you think.

You imagine Alexandra's morning call to Kim. If the whispers through your other selves are accurate, Kim had her greenwave her way straight into the mansion, and something like that always leaves traces. With the elections breathing down her neck, this is another splash of mud for the incumbent mayor, who's already waning in the polls. But since her main opponent is Richard Russell, you already know where your vote is going.

You shrug, pull out your earbuds... and freeze when you see the girl smiling across from you.

-Hey Liz!-.

-Hey, Maylene.- Troubles, you think, and perhaps she hears it, and it wouldn't be bad.

She vaults over the seat and lands beside you with that feline grace of hers, head tilted, eyes shining with amusement.

-We haven't talked much since I...- She leaves it hanging, her grin widening.

"Since you squashed yourself on my face at school and possessed me.".

Even if it lasted only a few minutes, you still remember being Maylene Crawford, and you'd much rater staying Liz Patton.

-Yeah, I guess. A lot's happened.-.

-Right. You're always with Bella now, huh? How is she? She looks... busy.-.

She's never been for discretion, but she's quite burning the steps right now. Which means, she doesn't want you to answer honestly, or simply doesn't care if you do or not.

-You know her mom. Still locked indoors after the attack. Bella's basically head of the house.-.

-Mmm, and I guess poor Hermione Sutherland won't leave her couch so soon with today's news. Speaking of.- She twists in her seat to face you fully. You shift subtly away, not enough to be rude, just... bracing.

-We've got a prisoner now. Isn’t that exciting? Finally a chance to peek into the enemy's psyche. I want to see what kind of mess lives in that deviant little head.-.

"Sure you do.".

-But.- She crosses her legs, leans out: -I cannot stop thinking about our Cassidy. That poor, poor girl, I cannot even imagine what she's going through. So, I was thinking, since the next stop is near her place and there's still time before the meeting, why don't we drop by? I'm sure she'll appreciate some company.-.

Your body twitches when her hand brushes your shoulder. You want to refuse, but no clean excuse comes. Sure, you're not Cassidy's friend or anything, but if the Charity that Kim kidnapped is really her sister, well, you feel sorry for her. And yes, she arguably betrayed all of you; but are you that different?

Ten minutes later, you're knocking on a busted-up door while Maylene sings: -Oh Cassie! It's us, can we come in?-.

-Go away.- Her voice is low and hoarse.

-Don't mind if we do~- Maylene trills, pushing it open like she owns the place and Cassidy hasn't just told her the opposite.

The stench hits first. Cigarettes, weed, stale sweat. Then you see the ruins: smashed furniture, shattered glass, cushions torn open like disemboweled corpses. Cassidy's on the couch, gaunt and pale, skin washed-out and eyes ringed red, curled up around a belly that clearly hurts like hell. Painkiller wrappers, used joints; you count at least three different blister packs on the floor. Enough to hospitalize a normal person.

She watches Maylene like a predator sizing up a snake. Then her eyes flick to you, and sees through you. Of course: under this punk girl's facade, there is still Tom Harris. And, in front of her, all around another Tom Harris, there is his university friend.

-Sooo, maybe you haven't heard, but Kim wants everyone to come...-.

-Piss of, slut. I'm not in the mood.- She runs a hand across her abdomen. Tightens. Then turns, pressing her face into the couch.

-Yeah, I know.- Maylene sighs like a stage actress: -And I also know the only one who can keep those nasty jelly from squeezing your guts out is the last person you want to see. But! You still owe us, you know? You were feeding Charity info the whole time. You should at least explain what, come clean, and maybe, while you're at it, you may benefit from being able to eat something more solid than beer as well. How does that sound?-.

Cassidy remains silent and curls tighter, ignoring you both.

You look at her, and ask yourself what you can do to... to do what, exactly? You're not even sure why you're here. You owe nothing to this girl, and in the end, isn't she simply another of Kim's failures? Just a further evidence that...

...

No. No, you don't believe that. She's not proof of failure. She's a person, just like you. Or... whatever you are now; but still, she's that too.

-I-

-Bathroom.~- You cough, nearly swallowing your own tongue when Maylene skips away mid-sentence, vanishing deeper into the apartment.

"That... she... urgh!".

You breathe in and speak anyway: -I had a sister too, once.-.

Cassidy's gaze lifts, just barely. That's news, to her; to Tom. Actually, it would be to basically everyone. You... or rather, Liz, she never spoke about it; and now, here you are, telling this painful secret of yours to a girl you barely know.

-Then she d...- You can't finish, even after years: -I lost her for a disease, and we moved here. They say time helps, but it doesn't. But you, you haven't lost your sister yet, so stop acting like you have or like you're alone, because you're not!-.

-...am I?- She rolls onto her back, looking at the ceiling: -She's right, I betrayed everyone. They will hate me. For what matters.-.

-You're right, screw it.-.

She blinks, not expecting that from you. But you're deadly serious.

-Screw Kim. Screw the plans. Screw what they think. Goo or not goo, they're not you, and you owe them nothing. You did what you had to. Everyone's got someone to protect, yeah? You have your sister, and she still needs you, she is the only one you owe something to. So stop wallowing, and get the fuck up.-.

You know that, as a motivational speech, it kinda sucked. But Cassidy grunts and slowly sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist.

-Fine. I'm coming with you. But that... thing, she ain't my sister.-.

You leave together. Maylene rejoins like nothing happened, smiling like a schoolgirl after her first kiss. Of course she is. You glance her way, cautious, and you wonder. Did she set this whole thing up? Did she know about your sister? About your Iranian origins? No, it can't be. But still...

"Everyone's got someone to protect, yeah?" You said before.

Maylene Crawford is not one of yours.

So who is?

---

You're twirling your hair when May-May slides behind you and grabs your ass. You slap her hand, half-heartedly. Still giggle.

-Have I lost something?- She teases.

-Na-ah, still getting started.- You nod toward the 'prisoner' in the middle of the room. The same room Madam Mayor lent you for this little gathering, though she's noticeably absent. As for the girl, she sits cross-legged, hands on her knees, eyes down. You're tempted to snap a photo and send it to her snotty little clique. Look who's humbled now, bitch. But you know better, you don't want to make that bunch of narcissistic sociopaths your enemies.

Yet.

Two other girls came in with Maylene. One's hovering near Bella, just as expected, while he other's glued to the wall like she's afraid to look at the floor. You're quite curious to learn what game she just played with them. As if reading your thoughts (wait, has she?), she leans to your ear, whispers like silk.

-You know that little secret group Bella and Liz are in? The one that wouldn't let us join?-.

-Vaguely. Why?-.

-I checked Liz's phone while she was busy talk-no-jutsuing Cassie. Something big is happening tonight. Buuuuuut... I don't know when or where exactly.-.

-Mmm. And why are you telling me?- You murmur. She smiles.

-Well, because you're you, Christine dear.- It's Krissy: -Queen of goons and blackmailing chains. You can find anyone, anywhere. While I get my nails done.-.

You pout at '****'. Ugh. Such an ugly word. No, you don't ****, you... realign incentives. You pesent truths. You help people reach conclusions in their best interest; from time to time, yes, also by exploiting little insignificant stuff like a picture or a video on your phone, just as a further motivation. Like a guide; yeah, a spiritual guide. And you don't even expect people to thank you for that. A magnanimous guide, then.

You sigh, scanning the room for familiar faces: -Unfortunately, Charity trimmed most of my usual network. And the ones still here... as you can imagine, their standards have risen. Normal arguments won't cut it.-.

-So you can't?- She presses. You scoff and flutter your hair.

-Please, May-May, don't insult me. I'm Krissy Delle, of course I can. Though, I'm still curious. Why do you want me to? And...-You drop your voice to a breath: -why we're talking about this when everyone can hear us?-.

The corners of her lips curl in a devious smile.

"To see what happens." You hear her voice in your mind.

-Alright.- Kim's voice interrupts your, and probably anyone else's, conversation in the room. You bite your lip in anticipation.

-Tell us everything we need to know.-.

---

People.

So many people.

Workers by the gate. Journalists flanking the steps; you're staring at them, yet none of them are looking at you, but if even one turned their head, they'd see you, see through you, and you don't want that. You don't want to be seen by anyone... except him.

Eric is still beside you. He hasn't moved since you arrived. His hand has brushed your back. His voice has been calm. He's been... perfect. You're so lucky to have him.

-Still nothing?- He murmurs. You shake your head gently.

Across the courtyard, Mrs. Russell is wrapping up her statement to the press.

-...the aggression my husband underwent last night is a serious threat to our democracy.- She says, firm and maternal: -I've just returned from the hospital, and Richard assured me that he's more committed than ever to get elected, to stop this spiral of **** that is gripping our city once and for all. Thank you.-.

She steps inside and closes the door before the journalists can press further. Eric turns and gestures for you to follow him around the side of the mansion. You obey, head lowered. You can't look at him. If only you'd found someone in Kim's group among the crowd, you could have started repaying his kindness. Given him something.

But you failed again. You're useless. Useless. You should just...

A butler opens the back entrance for you. The moment you cross the threshold, you feel it: the pull, the one you should have found earlier. A resonance deep in your chest, a signal echoing in your blood. It guides your gaze instinctively toward the hallway ahead, toward her, but Eric halts you before you make the mistake.

-Wait here. I'm going to speak with Lynette.-.

Cindy Hope stands beside you; you don't look at her, and she doesn't look at you. You're not supposed to speak unless Eric tells you to. You're not supposed to want to speak, and there's nothing you have to say. You **** yourself to ignore her, but...

-Hey.- She says, quiet as a feather.

You flinch.

-How, how are you?- She asks.

You nod, flebilly.

-M-Me too.-.

...

-Is that...- You try to clamp your mouth shut, but the words leak out the same.

-Is that true? Is Mr. Russell... was it them? Was it... us?-.

What are you saying? Why are you saying that? You're not one of them, and you've never been. They would have never accepted you, and you can't blame them for that. After all, they didn't even come for you last night.

-I guess so.- Cindy answers: -But you know... he's not really hurt. It's for the campaign.-.

-Right. Right.-.

You touch your belly. They're moving, you made them agitated with your senseless words. Now you can feel them stirring in your gut, twisting and settling like knots beneath the skin. Warm. Alive. They're your family. The only one you've ever needed.

And yet, your throat closes, your eyes burn. You try to suppress it, but the tears come fast and hot. Your knees give out. Cindy catches your shoulder as you fall.

-I don't, I don't understand!- You sob: -Why all this ****? It's so, it's so horrible! I don't want to be this!-.

-Charity, you are not...-.

-But my head!- You gasp, yanking at your hair: -It's so full of these bad thoughts! Where are they coming from? Do you have them too? Is it this body or...-.

A sharp pang shoots through your stomach. You freeze.

Then you rise slowly, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

-I'm sorry. I'm fine now. Forget what I just said.-.

Cindy watches you. Her face soft. Worried. She takes your hand and says: -You're a good person, Charity. And I know you'll do the right thing.-.

You lift your eyes to her, just for a moment; then Eric returns, saying it's time to go. You nod quietly, and follow him out without hesitation.

---

-I... I guess it's better if I start from the beginning.- Dawn says.

After you fixed up your nose with your shapeshifting powers and some groans, you and Tina kept her under strict watch all night. She hasn't breathed wrong without one of you knowing; no suspicious glances, no hidden messages, her demeanor remained subdued, apologetic. Her voice only rose when concerned about Heather, whom she seemed able to sense when moving out of range from her green-goo-suppression field; and about Cassidy, who chose to stay out of it on purpose.

Even now, as everyone gathers in the meeting room, all eyes fixed on Dawn, her posture shrinks slightly under the weight of expectation. Heather sits on the floor near the couch, toying with a music box Dawn grabbed from her room last night. Cassidy leans back against the wall, arms crossed, her expression distant but not blank, just tightly wound pain. And Dawn keeps darting glances her way, clearly unsure whether to risk trying to reach her or hope Cassidy's silence will eventually give way to understanding. You will deal with Cassidy as well, later. For now, this is more important.

From all corners of your side, from all the 'factions' that arose in the last weeks (from trusted ones like Trish and Emily to Bella's group, today formed by her, Liz, Cecilia and, mmm, Rhiannon; from the restless gazing Heather to the blonde duo of mischief), every gaze is on Dawn. It couldn't be otherwise: it's the first real chance anyone has had to untangle the truth from Charity's havoc.

-You'd better not lie.- Tina mutters truculently, arms folded.

-I won't, I swear. I guess it's better if I start from the beginning. My... uh, Charity's mother was called Jane Dawson. She wasn't wealthy and she had no one to help her, no family, no support. She spent her life scraping by. Most of the times she worked as a maid, or as a housekeeper. Well, actually, she always dreamed of becoming a teacher. Her eyes would light up when she talked about it...- Dawn trails off, the memory softening her voice, then looks down, the present looming over her.

-...Anyway, she usually worked for a home services provider, here in the city. One day, she met her employer. He was Darius Gately. I don't know the specifics, but she ended up pregnant with his kid. He paid her off, told her to abort and disappear. And, well, maybe it wasn't a fortune, but it was more than she'd ever seen in one place. But... she didn't do it. She kept the child in secret. That's how I was born... how Charity was born.-.

The room goes still. You hold your face in a hard, neutral line, but it's Tina who speaks.

-So, she is a bastard.- She says it without malice, just fact. Dawn visibly flinches.

-Go on.- You order. She nods, eyes lowered.

-At first, the money helped. But it didn't last. Eventually, she... she had to strip. Then one of her regulars took her in, and she became his girlfriend. He wasn't... he wasn't really kind, but he had a job. Usually. And Jane wanted Charity to have a future, a real one: she noticed early that Charity was brilliant, brighter than other kids her age.-.

There's a sligth hesitation, then a heavy breath.

-But she was also... cold. Detached. Her hobbies were... dark. She didn't connect with people. Not emotionally. And honestly... I... I can see now that I didn't feel the emotions like you all do; like this body does. But she loved her mom, she really did. She just didn't know how to show it. Not until... until she lost her. I'm sorry, could I have some water?-.

You say nothing. Rachel, the girl you possessed last night, stands and slips out, returning with a glass. She hands it to Dawn, but her gaze goes elsewhere. Toward Cassidy. The way Cassidy's hunched inward, limbs crossed tightly, tells you she's listening even if she doesn't want to. Of course: Rachel told you her story, or at least the part she knew of. You can see the similarities.

Dawn sets the empty glass down and continues.

-I... I could be very capricious when I was a kid. If the soup didn't taste right, I'd whine. I hated soup. I'd scream and pout. My stepfather usually shut me up with a slap or a belt, and I think I wanted him to do that. But one Thursday evening, he wasn't home. So I threw the whole bowl on the floor. My mom was at her limit, she scolded me, and I shouted that she was worthless. That night she left—to buy cleaning supplies, she said. But she never came back. I didn't find out what truly happened until much later. I just... assumed it was my fault.-.

-My stepfather said she abandoned me. He never filed a report, though, probably didn't want the cops sniffing around. He kept me for a few years, then vanished; I don't know where he is right now. Anyway, I survived on scholarship grants. And, well, I still eat soup every Thursday. Always leave myself a note in the fridge, the way she used to do for me. A little post-it, ‘Lunch is in the fridge. XOXO Mom’. It's stupid, I know.-.

-But months ago, I... uh, I'm sorry, I forgot I shouldn't... Charity, Charity found Jane's old diaries. She found out who her father was, but there was nothing she could do with that. She knew Darius wouldn't acknowledge her. And then... you showed up. And... you know... her options changed.-.

-How, exactly?- You ask, voice sharp enough to make her blink.

-Why her father? Why Maria and the others? What's her goal?-.

-Charity... she wants a family.- Dawn says quietly: -So she built one. She picked Millie's body to play the daughter. Maria, her big sister. Eric was her high school crush, so he became the older brother. Darius and his wife, the parents.-.

-And Heather's family?- Tina cuts in. Heather's still playing with the carillon on the floor, smile flickering every time the song plays, mechanical and faint.

-Oh, y-yes. Jane worked for them after Charity was born, and in her diaries, she said they treated her horribly. They once accused her of theft, and made her pay them back... that's how the abortion money disappeared so fast. So, she took the Russels for ****; and as for Heather, she...- Dawn closes her eyes, visibly disgusted: -Oh god, I feel awful to say this; but she wanted to possess Heather and, and have her commit suicide. In front of her parents. She wanted to feel their pain with her own soul. S-She thought that it would have been good for Richard's electoral campaign too...- her voice breaks, and she sobs openly.

Tina doesn't move, but her eyes scream fury. She looks at Heather like she wants to run to her, fold her in her arms, but you both know that would only make Heather panic again. Instead, she turns her rage on Dawn, fists clenched, mouth a flat blade. She's not alone, though. Everyone else in the room is just a quieter version of the same storm. You, too.

-Why does she want to be mayor?- You hiss. Dawn wipes her face and sighs.

-Because she wants to make her dream permanent. She needs more bodies in power, to guarantee it. And she sees you as the threat. I tried to suggest there might be another way, that perhaps you could find a compromise together... but she doesn't trust you. Even when she took over the Gatelys and found out they controlled the city's underworld, that wasn't enough.-.

You open your mouth to say something, but Krissy (someone you weren't thinking about for five minutes, and it has been your bad) cuts across you.

-What about Jane?- Her tone is dry. You can already tell she knows where this is going, and you can't help but feeling annoyed.

-Her mother. What happened?-.

-...- Dawn's voice barely leaves her throat.

-She's dead.-.

The air in the room seems to thicken.

-When we possessed Darius, we found out Jane had asked him for more money, just a week before she vanished. My stepfather lost his job in that period, and my school raised its fees. She begged him. On her knees. And he... he made her do things on bed. Things that she... but she got the money, later. But then his wife, Geneviève... she found it out. And she hired someone. A killer. I don't... I don't even know if she's buried somewhere.-.

-Mmm, aren't they in an open marriage or whatever?- Maylene interjects, tone way too casual. Some of you wince; you're not sure whether it's the story or the way Maylene made that question, but you're part of that group.

-Stephanie told us, right Steph?-.

The brunette corporate grimaces and nods awkwardly.

-It's... not that easy.- Dawn says softly, controlling her breath: -Geneviève lets him sleep around, sure, but she's also a jealous woman. If it's only sex, and she's with him, that's ok... but when he told her about Jane, that it had been something real... she snapped. She wanted ****, even if it happened years before. And she wanted to get even with him because... well, he broke the fingers of a guy she had seduced at a party. It's something that turns her on: cheating on Darius and knowing what he'll do to the man later. She wasn't really angry, but she wanted it to seem real, so... so yeah, she had her **** on his mistress. To her, it was just a game. And to Darius too... that's why he gave Jane the money, and then told Geneviève. He likes when she gets possessive.-.

-Woah. You sure she isn't your mother?-.

You shoot Maylene a glare. She shrugs with a pout that doesn't even try to be sincere.

-Why are you helping us?- Tina asks, and her voice is solid ice. Dawn wilts again.

-Because you're not like her. You care. About each other. About people. And Heather... when I was pretending to be scared, she risked her life to protect me. Even after I told her the truth, she...-.

She breaks. Tears race down her cheeks.

-They tortured her. My other selves, they did things... horrible things... things that were in my mind too, and she knew that... but she still called me her friend! Charity, no, she doesn't even know what a friend is. She doesn't love people. She uses them. That's all they are to her. Tools. Please... let me help you. We need to stop her!-.

The words echo through the room. Mumbled reactions ripple in their wake. Cassidy snorts, you don't know if it's pain or disgust, and walks out. Rachel follows her, glancing back once before disappearing. Dawn watches them go with a heartbreak she doesn't voice, just nods slightly, accepting the rejection.

-Alright.- You cut the noise like a knife. Everyone stops.

-But before we even consider trusting you, you'll tell us everything. Charity's forces. Her plans. Her powers. Everything. And there will be another condition.-.