Connor watched the battle, not particularly interested in the battle, but had to admire the team work, although it didn't seem like there was any, when the email came through. He had his emails on a push notification, and thus, when it came through, his phone notified him.

Curious as to who could be [hider=emailing]It would arrive from Kijani, about 2 hours after they spoke. It would have a send date of the day before.

Connor

I'm sorry you have to find the truth this way. By now, my body has likely been discovered. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me. I love you, to my last breath. I cut you off so that you would feel no responsibility for what I've done. This is not your fault, Connor. 

I know you were always asking me to tell you what was going on. Now I will, I'll tell you everything. 

My parents never wanted me. They got together at a party, one thing led to another, which led to me. My mother wanted to abort me before I was born. My father's mother apparently had some religion against that- my father didn't care either way, apparently. I was ignored by them for most of my life- except when there was some kind of function. Then I was dressed up, dolled up, told to be polite and perfect. I was the precious perfect daughter, to be trotted out and showed off. When we got home, I was nothing again.

I always had my powers, though, from as early as I can remember. I had a nanny. Her name was Marta. She was beautiful and sweet and smart, with long brown hair and freckles. I loved her. She loved me. She called me special, for what I could do, and she said one day I'd be something. She would give me books, bigger and bigger books to practice with. I was ten and I could juggle three Oxford dictionaries. I had power, Connor, and I was happy. One night, I heard her fighting with my parents. Something about me needing real parents. I wish I could have told her that she was my mother, in my heart. I never got the chance. When I woke in the morning, she was gone. I never saw her again.

Alpha happened to me after that. I really can't tell you everything that happened. Most of it I don't remember except in nightmares. I know hospitals give me cold sweats. I know I can't smell blood, or bleach, without my mind shutting down. I know I can't be restrained without completely freaking out. There's more. There are things I'll never break free of.

I don't know how long it took, but eventually my power just went away. They tried to force it back out. When that didn't work, they put me in a truck. Didn't bother to really restrain me. I didn't fight. I knew they were going to kill me, and I didn't care. They took me out to some empty field, and one of them cut into my abdomen. Something came out of me. A microchip, a tracking device, I don't know. I was standing there, bleeding, watching a soldier point a pistol at my forehead. 

Something came over me. Something cold, something determined not to let them murder me. I could feel again, with my powers, and I saw that the scientist who was handling me made the mistake of carrying a notepad. I ripped it from her pocket. The pages were knives. The soldier, I killed him. I cut his face open, his throat, his stomach. I took his gun. The scientist was on the ground, begging. Pleading.

I shot her, Connor. I shot her until the gun was empty. She couldn't have done anything to harm me, in that moment. I murdered a woman, Connor. I was eleven. I'm a murderer.

The last blow came much later. I don't remember getting to a hospital. I just remember running, running, running until everything hurt, and then nothing hurt because my body had grown used to the pain. I woke up in a white room, with that horrible smell. They had to drug me to calm me. The doctor said I was lucky. I had a bad infection but I lived. He said they had to do surgery, that they had to take a part of me out.

I'll never have children, Connor. Between the scarring and the infection, they said I would not be able to conceive. My childhood got taken, and my future was stolen before I even got a chance to consider it.

Don't you see, Connor? You will do better than me. You need a strong, pure, good woman, who can give you all the love you deserve, and all the little baby Starks the world can handle. I was never going to be that woman for you. I was always a mistake, an aberration, and I'm fixing it now before I ruin you like I am ruined.

I love you.

Kijani[/hider]him, he checked it, reading with a slight frown. Anyone watching him might see a variety of emotions crossing his face-pain,
Anger, sadness, fear and finally, a strange sort of amusement, that seemed to incorporate all these emotions. 

As he read it once more, Connor ross smoothly, walking out the classroom without a word. He kept his phone in his hand, as he moved through the halls, his long stride eating up the distance to the infirmary. Me pushed the door open silently, seeing Kijani in what could be considered a state of panic. 

He watched her, silent for a moment. He didn't go to comfort her, to wrap her in his arms, didn't. Not yet. 

"There's a difference, Kijani, between being a murderer and surviving. A difference between killing a human being, and killing a monster in human skin. But beyond that, do you actually think that would change the way I see you? Because it doesn't. You were a child, alone, and faced with people who treated you as nothing more then a lab rat." And now he walked over to her, silent, his expression, for the moment, curiously blank. 

He knelt, so he could be looking up at Kijani. "As for a strong, pure, good woman? I imagine any of them would be boring, unassuming, and just happy to do whatever I want. And I've never met anyone like that. As for children, who is to say that even if a child isn't biological, they can't be yours. After all, my father was adopted. And you yourself wrote on the email that Marta is your mother, in your heart. You are not ruined. Not to me. I think if you had succeeded, if you had died, I would have been ruined. You will never ruin me, not the way you think."

He sighed softly. "Don't you see, Kijani? I see you. I want you. I need you." He gave her a half a smile, not looking away, he now seemed to struggle with what to say. It seemed he had exhausted his store of words, and he looked down, briefly, before looking back to her. "I'm patient. I can wait for you to see that"