The healing Muse

*Lyta sat staring out the window of Zora’s library, into the deepening twilight, daydreaming. Catching herself she sighed and looked down at the book before her, Windows for Dummies. She grimaced and pushed the text away. For a third grade reading level she found even that a bit too ambitious. She could not concentrate. Her mind kept drifting back to the meeting. Finally she gave up and closed her eyes, willing herself to relive the afternoon a couple days back, trying to analyze what she felt. *

*She knew she had come away extremely embarrassed and had subsequently been careful to avoid running into anyone in the house. She had even avoided Bree who to all counts seemed to be settling well into the group. But Lyta was not settling so well. She felt so totally out of place here, vulnerable and compromised at each turn. She should have left long ago. Instinctively she knew she could not use her old street acts here. Well the way she had behaved -They- probably would believe the dumb blond act. She did not know how to deal with the conflicts that arose in her life now. It seemed that in the recent months everything had been turned around. Her relatively secure life on the street had ended with Maggies death, leaving a gaping hole full of loneliness and grief within her. She had always known organizations were the enemy. The police who made you move off the street or brought you in if you were not careful lifting something. The apathetic agencies that dealt with healthcare and welfare. Then there were the drug lords and gangs, they were the ones she did business with…but they never knew who she was….not really….No one but Maggie had ever known her powers before. Now, not only did this group of strangers know about her….but also there was a very distinct possibility the enemy group called the Guard also knew. All because she had, against her better judgment, allowed herself to be goaded into the raid on Guard headquarters... She shivered involuntarily, she never felt safe any more. *

*Despite this she had found herself wanting to belong. With Maggie gone, now as never before she felt herself alone and longed to reach out to others to share the comfort of friendship and belonging. But she knew she was not a team player. By now there was plenty of evidence of this. Open warfare had never been her preferred method. She had always fought and been most effective when the enemy had no idea what she was. It seemed to her that her usefulness had been thrown away when she had been told the Guard probably knew about her. She also felt a bit awed by what she had found herself in, fearful and doubting herself, though she hid that fairly well. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined finding herself in a situation like this. It was like a TV show….a Science fiction movie…like Shadowrun or something. She still could not believe what she had heard Kelsin say. She doubted what she had heard, thinking that there was some catch, that it did not apply to her. She could not heal herself…and that was what they had been talking about. But the possibility that she may be of value here…that she may actually find a place for herself among these people and make a contribution was despite her self doubt and fears, the only thing that kept her from vanishing right after the meeting. She sighed and shook her head. The telepath had probably sensed her thoughts and said that just to keep her here.*

*And then there was Ace. She was still angry with herself and Ace over the bugging. Although not a part of the Unnaturals, Ace seemed to epitomize her experience of the other RUN.ners she had met. Intimidated by her, just as she felt intimidated by the others here. They all just seemed so much better than herself, giving rise to unfamiliar feelings of unworthiness. From her lack of education, …her inexperience in the field, and her inability to work well with others, everything about them pointed out to her, her own faults.*

What a case! *She said in disgust, standing and flipping the book shut in one swift motion. What had happened to her toughness, her pride in herself? Why should she care what they thought of her? She hated this, the way she felt now.* Maybe I’ve just been sitting around too long….*She hadn’t had a good sprint down an alley or through a park for weeks. She moved through the house stealthily, not wanting to be detected by the others. Reaching the front door she turned the doorknob slowly to avoid any excess noise.*

*Once outside in the refreshing cool of the night, she snapped her jacket up and took off, running down the road at a quick sprint towards the bright glow of the inner city. A while later, breathless and panting, she came upon a gas station. Slowing to a fast walk, she glanced at a pay phone as she passed. Digging into the pocket of her worn jeans, she pulled out some change. After the call she smiled. There was work in Dallas. All she had to do was meet the contact. She grinned, feeling more like her old self with every step.*

*Lyta walked the streets of Dallas, on the poorer side of the tracks, hunting. She had spoken to her contact here, then confirmed that half the money for the hit had been deposited in her account at home, as per their agreement. Now she walked the streets searching for something in particular. There was a high school ahead she had been told and on a hunch had waited until the appropriate time and came to look. Her path took her around the circumference of the trash strewn ground and she was approaching a back lot of the school. A slow smile stole over her face as she heard yelling ahead.*

*She was in luck, there was a fight. She had approached from the cover of an alley between two rows of block houses, and hid behind the schools dumpster. Two young teenage kids crouched, just outside of school grounds at the front of the alley, surrounded by a group of others, bright switchblades flashing in their hands as they alternately feinted and lunged at each other. As she watched one lunged for the other who skittered back, then caught the others sleeve and pulled him in, thrusting low with the other hand. There was a gasp and the other kid, grasping his belly, slumped to the ground. The watching teens were all suddenly looking around uneasily. Lyta waited, watching from behind the dumpster.*

Lets get outta here …*Growled one of the kids in a midwestern drawl, and they all scattered, leaving the injured boy in a pool of his own spreading blood.*

Hurry up! *Lyta muttered as the rapidly receding figures as she eyed with alarm the injured boys gray face. ..If she was too late…. Finally she stepped from cover and approached the boy. He blinked up at her with an unfocused look. She knelt by his side and took up his hand in hers, her body sending special antibodies and other things through his skin, into his blood. The wound, a deep belly wound cutting through intestine and kidney, began to heal instantly. After a few moments the antibodies reabsorbed into her skin carrying the poison produced by the forced healing back into the reservoir within her, giving it the raw materials from the others body with which to create her venom.*

*She smiled down at the boy as his eyelids lowered and he passed into a deep exhausted sleep. She moved back, releasing him before the wound had completely healed, leaving a deep scratch in the skin to explain the blood. It would also leave him a sizable scar with which to brag of the experience or to remind him to avoid fights…..either way. She stood slowly and waved over a woman who had emerged from a nearby doorway.*…The kid got cut deep I think…call an ambulance…

*After the ambulance had been called, she discreetly vanished, grinning at the imagined looks on the faces of all concerned when it was discovered the boy had no life threatening injuries. Few would remember the dumb looking blond who had discovered the boy.*

*Later, Lyta found a drunk, sleeping in the park under a pile of newspaper, a empty bottle lay in the grass nearby. When she touched the mans cold hand she knew this was what she wanted. A worn out and damaged heart beat sluggishly within. The work of the antibodies and other elements forced his immune system into a speed healing, exhausting him. He slept all the more restful and deeper without the pain he had been enduring for months, that which had driven him to abandon his family job and friends and to drink. A moment later, she removed her hand, his heart healed, her reservoir full. Now she was ready. All she had to do is be in the same place as her hit at the specified time.*