[h3][color=98fb98]September 5th 20XX[/color][/h3]
	The building exhaled its processed air as the automatic doors slid open. On the other side, in a buttoned up shirt and a collared vest of a light fabric- and a color somewhere between mauve and burgundy- stood Scott, a look of deep concern on his face. [i]I hope this works.[/i]
	The young man approached the front desk, and placed his arm against the counter just slightly, leaning forward a bit, so that he might be heard when speaking in a low voice.
	"[color=98fb98]Hi, I know you've probably been getting this all week, but I have a friend who's admitted here. I was at ESU when, well, when that thing went down. Still can't wrap my head around it, but I haven't seen him since, and I just have to know if he's in one piece or not.[/color]"

	The nurse hemmed and hawed for a minute or two before relenting- doctors said that the disease was past its contagious stage, and family or not, it wasn’t like he’d get much more than a reprimand from the admins for letting in a friend. After asking Marcus’ name, and giving Scott a room number, the young man found himself in front of a suddenly-ominous-looking door in a scant few minutes.

	After taking a moment to make sure no one was around, Scott pushed his hands on the door, knocking softly as he moved the handle. He opened the door slowly, making sure it was obvious that he was there.
[hr]
	Marcus sat up slightly as he heard the door opening, dreading whether or not the doctors were coming to poke and prod at him some more. Which made it all the more enjoyable when his best friend walked through the door.

	[color=crimson]”Scott! You’re okay!”[/color] It had been driving him crazy, worried whether or not his loved ones had been caught up in this nightmare. It was a relief to see that at least one of them had made it out all right, even if he was feeling some sort of weird… interference in his skull. Like static, or something. He didn’t take time to notice it; it passed as soon as it left.

	He smiled. [color=crimson]”You can’t imagine what a pain in the ass it’s been sitting here with nothing to do. At least you’re here to make it a little better. So… how have you been? What’s it like out there on the outside?”[/color]
[hr]
	“[color=98fb98]Thank god you’re alright,[/color]” Scott remarked, a breath he didn’t realize he was holding slipping out of his lungs, “[color=98fb98]Okay, so, don’t freak out,[/color]” he began, before moving closer to the wall.
	Scott then placed his hand against the wall, then his foot, and slowly began to climb it, hands simply pressed flat behind him as he still looked at his bedridden friend, a couple feet off the ground now.
	“[color=gray]So basically, I’m Strand,[/color]” he remarked, for a moment placing his hand on his forehead as another sharp lance of pressure shot through it, “[color=gray]And I have a feeling you are too...[/color]”

	Marcus blinked, still wincing at the static sensation that had reared its head again. His friend, Scott. His best friend in the whole wide world.

Was hanging.

On the ceiling.

[color=crimson][i]What.[/i]

	“What.”[/color]

	It took him a long moment to process what he was seeing. Even longer for him to recognize what Scott was telling him. [color=crimson]”Y...Y-you… you’re Strand…? Seriously? H-how, when, why haven’t you--?”[/color]

	Another pulse of static. And the other shoe dropped. The last thing he’d said. [color=crimson][i]He said I’m…?[/i]

	“You think… you think I am, too? Wait, what does that mean? Scott, this doesn’t make any sense!”[/color] He felt his heart rate start to increase, heedless of the lights dimming around him, or the monitors nearby flickering.

	“[color=gray]No, no it doesn’t. I… I felt like I couldn’t tell you. Like, nobody knows this. I couldn’t even tell me mom. ‘Cause, you know… if people know, they get grabbed by some mugger I stopped a month ago that I forgot about or something.[/color]”
	Scott then took a breath, and climbed down, approaching Marcus.
	“[color=98fb98]And, it’s like, I don’t know. Sometimes I’d get these like… pulls in my head… like, that feeling when you don’t think you should be somewhere, but like way over-[/color]” He stopped, his thought process cut off by Marcus’s sudden tirade.

	[color=crimson]”That… that’s stupid! I’m not made of glass, Scott. I can handle myself. What about you? I’m just supposed to be okay with you running around on rooftops, punching bad guys in the face??”[/color] He couldn’t tell through his haze and headache, but the room was getting noticeably darker. Particularly centered around Marcus himself.

	[color=crimson]”You keep dropping bombshells and you’re not even gonna explain any of them??”[/color]

	“[color=98fb98]No. You’re not made of glass. But you’re not bulletproof. And you keep cutting me off. Like, seriously, this impatience is terminal-[/color]” he then realized that was bad phrasing.

	[color=crimson]”You’re not bulletproof, either! What would have happened if someone got a lucky shot, Scott? What was I supposed to think if you didn’t come home one night? What was your mom supposed to think??”[/color]

	The darkness seethed.

	“[color=98fb98]Easy buddy. I was just getting there...[/color]” he placed his hand on Marcus’s wrist, gently, but firmly, “[color=98fb98]I can literally see things coming.And right now it’s like… like there’s threads in the air… and one of them’s leading to you...[/color]”

	[color=crimson]”Don’t fucking patronize--”[/color] he said, jerking his hand away angrily, the reaction triggering… something else. A tendril of blackest black, like a scorpion’s tail, spearing up toward Scott, narrowly missing his best friend. However, in an uncanny shift, Scott’s shoulder dropped, and he clapped a hand over Marcus’s mouth in the same movement, as if to keep him from screaming.

	The room fell silent, neither young man knowing just how to react to what had just happened, Marcus still with Scott’s hand over his mouth. Marcus’ eyes were wide with shock and surprise, not knowing how to respond, even if he could speak. Slowly, carefully, he reached up to Scott’s wrist, pulling it away so he could talk.

	[color=crimson]”So, uh… you were going to talk. I was interrupting. Please… please continue.”[/color]

	To say Scott was calm was a lie, but he wasn’t nearly as shaken as Marcus. He was also much more stressed looking, suddenly.
	“[color=98fb98]Yeah. So, you having super powers? Guess yours are more than a bit different than mine.[/color]”

	[color=crimson]”You think??”[/color] said Marcus, causing shadows to bristle across his skin with his irritation.

	“[color=98fb98]Full disclosure? I have no idea what that was. That kinda scares me. But we’re like, connected. Other people in this hospital are too. Which is...[/color]” the young man put a hand on his forehead, “[color=98fb98]Look, when my powers kicked in, still not entirely sure how- there was like, a sting on my hand or something, next morning I woke up on the wall. Thought I was going insane for a while. But, well, since I could do stuff like,[/color]” he gestured to the wall, “[color=98fb98]I figured I’d better make the best of it. And trust me, I wouldn’t have done it if I couldn’t tell where a gun was going to point before it was pointed there. I can like, feel things coming and stuff, like, physically feel it, and my head goes nuts when I have to cross the street, then I look and some truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and runs up the curb and into a dumpster- that would have ran into me if I didn’t stop for a second,[/color]”
	Scott paused for a moment, visibly stressed out. If Marcus was in the blast, and it he was there too… and now Marcus had powers… Scott’s stomach sank. He felt like he might throw up.

	Marcus caught on quick to Scott’s unease. And shared it, as the lights in the room turned sickly and dull, [color=crimson]”Scott… there were a lot of people in that blast.

	“...What if I’m just one of the new threads you saw…?”[/color]

	“[color=98fb98]Yeah, we have a lot of visits to make,[/color]” Scott remarked, sounding exhausted.