None of this changed the flooding that went on inside her mind. The way that everything shifted and changed, not just in sight or judgement, but in the instances that were this life. She felt more and more like some mental patient, with the way her emotions had been so off. There was an edge about her nerves and it yearned for better. She couldn't show it, there was no distraction for what was real. There is no hiding in this. No ability to run from it, only to mask what she didn't say. The words flowed, but not the way she needed them to. She couldn't lay everything on everyone. The pain that came with that, the way she worried about terrifying people. Her mind wasn't set up like theirs. But to be looked at in fear or in judgement. Two things she would never want, even though she knew right now, with every part of her, she was more of a hindrance on people than anything else. Her mind wasn't right. Her body wasn't right. Rachel and Raven had both been still trying to accumulate whatever could be given, but at the same time there was too much. Not as much information as there was abilities, powers to deal with. A need to cope and move on too quickly. This wasn't normal. She wasn't normal. How do you go about having these feelings, these thoughts, and making sure that you don't hurt anyone with them? Let alone those closest to you? Those few that you bothered to even allow that near you in any way at all?
Not only that there was that possibility that she was insane because here she was. Tim wasn't Tim. Tim was Devin. He had been the first to realize what she was, what she was going through, who she was. Tim was a rock in her life, even though he was who claimed something of the like about her. For as much as she had pushed him away that week, she needed him. She relied on him more than she made it appear. Going to him, even though others found her. Even though she found others. Not all bothered with her the way that she needed. She could feel the emotions, she could feel everything. The need to get away, as far away as she could get from this world that was her own apartment. That was what rang true that entire week. Her stomach couldn't endure anymore than it had.The emotions that she felt, that were expressed even though people didn't mean to show them, she felt them. There was no off switch. Just that ability to control that which she had to deal with. It was too much of a gut punch with each new wave of strong emotion. Like a flood that came rushing at her without any way to stop it. Just to stand there and try to be unmoved, as it pushed her, forced her into whatever current it wanted.
There was no Tim and now she didn't know if she was alone. If she had awoken to this entire world without anyone but herself. What if it had been because of her father? What if there was some unknown plot to use her here? She didn't want to think about that, but she wasn't entirely sure if she could help herself right now. With these thoughts that plagued her. They weren't just her own deepest and darkest desires, they were Rachel's. The melding of it all, it kept her wide eyed and half rocking until she saw a need to say more. But what was she to say? She wasn't Rachel. How is it she ended up married? The memories were there, but this wasn't her. She had to remember this. Somehow. Control was an illusion. She had to give herself an illusion. Too bad that wasn't part of her repertoire of powers at the moment. She could just dance around her own apartment and pretend a little longer. To teleport her body off to some random place just because she could. To stay there and away from everyone. Segregate herself from anyone she could hurt.
She wanted to throw up again. To allow that relief of pressure in her stomach and chest. There were people she could go to, but if they were like Devin, she was opening up the wrong can of worms. What if they saw her as something else? There were memories of home, of places, but she wasn't all herself still. The headache was less painful, but it was there, as more came through. What if they all pointed fingers at her here, as their other selves, because of the whole demonic side of her? What if that was fully attached here? What if she was too dark? Friends were friends only as they saw fit. There were so few to be close to. They all made a point of showing it. She wasn't going to keep up with the fake sides of it all. She didn't want any part of it. Everything would just get worse.
Raven recalled the words to Rachel. The claim of not fearing her or whatever it was. The way he made it out to Raven. How the only thing he would be bothered by, hurt by, is if she manipulated him into wanting a divorce. He wanted to talk, but she didn't know. He held too much of a belief in Rachel's strength, her intelligence to handle all of this. She never claimed to be anything other than Rachel, yet she did. It was right in a way, but this was too confusing. He wanted to go to the moon, but Aruba was settled upon. It was left to what his first thought was. She shouldn't have been tapping into his head like that, but there had been something there. A line, tied, given how she had been practicing the telepathy before Raven came to. But home again, and there it was, a more welcome distraction. To know she wasn't alone. If she could have ever seen Dick's face in her life and ever been incredibly happy and bubbly, that was the moment. Not that she was giving that away, but she didn't know what to do or where to go. To give up more of herself and become a worst case scenario.
But something was wrong. He wasn't talking. Not that she expected him to talk about that. These were his problems, but there was that driving need to help. To care about people she knew. It was there and she wasn't fighting it. At the same time, it was a welcome distraction. She needed it, to do more than to think about the bouncing around with a man that said those things she couldn't just wrap her mind around. Why would anyone say those things? They were good things, but how and why? Was that what brought that all on? There were so many questions. She didn't understand how so much of this worked still. And Devin wasn't the holder of the answers. At the same time, Dick held his own. They just weren't to the ones she wanted to ask, the ones she kept to herself and spoke to no one.
Staring at the building from the outside, she kept her distance. Realization of the pain and temptation that drove inside of her. The deep want and desire to act out, to be rash and destroy. It wasn't all her own, but she knew of her own issues and problems. The way that her own mind had always been. It wasn't a place for the lighthearted or anyone else really. She had scared and hurt worse by allowing a glimpse of it in the past. She wasn't going to do that here, there was no need. And even now, she needed to reign it in more. To hold a better control. She didn't sense anyone that would bother with her now. She didn't feel anything that would change what she was here to do. There was no destruction to be met, no worries to be had. But what she did need was to stay there in that moment of need. To unleash what was holding her back, binding her to all of these feelings. She needed a release. Whether it was her or Rachel that got this stuck in mind, it didn't matter because here she was.
A bloodcurdling scream, as she balled her fists at her sides. Screaming out to the moon, as if she were real and a person. To come and hear her call. To understand what was going on within her and settle it down. She needed better control of her own thoughts, her wants, her desires. Bottling everything up, the way she once had, it was all that was needed before. There was no way to keep herself together like this for more than smaller bouts in time. There was no way to keep anyone content with or without her. For all these things that she couldn't do, there were more that she could. The way that she recalled the words, the spoken need to use the magic that she possessed, but couldn't recall what did what. And this could become brutal, but she didn't care. Her own powers lifting her up, allowing her own telekinesis to allow her that hover feet above the ground. The wind whipping around her, pushing her hair in and around her face, as if to fight her back. But she resisted it, uncaring, dull eyes staring still at the moon. That one place he asked what if he wanted to go to.
She didn't want any of it, as electricity and fire may as well have come close enough to consume her. But nothing did touch her. Nothing would ever touch her because she wouldn't allow it. Self preservation or an actual grasp on this, she held practice. Throwing about fireballs and electricity spawning from her fingertips. After she did this, after she would attempt all of this, to get it out of her system, that question would come up. A question that she didn't want to answer, even after she killed the flames. The only remnants of this disaster being the scorched ground and the memory of how her fingers tingled from it all. The way her skin felt numb and flushed all at the same time. The world may as well have stopped spinning with the way that she had held a want for destruction. The way that her mind continued to move towards a specific California state prison. The place her father, but not her father was held. She hoped they weren't one in the same, anyway. If it were, there would be a stronger need to hold him, more now than ever. Nothing good came from any of this, it never would.
But to tell anyone if they should be worried? About a real problem with her that went beyond what popped up for her? Some didn't even gain the ability to learn that much. She wasn't going to explain the rest. For them to understand, it would take too much and she wasn't going to start accepting pity now. She didn't want the judgement, the worst of what could come of it. She wasn't together, and for as much as everyone had seen her through, or not seen, there was only so much she could take like this. She had it under control. She would repeat this until the day she died, if that came again. She would repeat it to anyone that tried to claim otherwise. If there were a flicker, a momentary itch, they didn't need to know. There was a level of discretion, there was a need to keep all of her ticks under control. Even where her mind ran off to, it wasn't the same as this.
It only took a thought for her to be home. A place to feel comfortable in, as she sat there, stoic. Emotions came to her, but she was giving none out. Confusion was a place she was tired of being, and she just accepted it enough to leave it well alone. She was in control. She was in control. No one could take this from her, even as she sat there imagining the ways that one could get rid of the father figure that should have been a better man. The one that she wished she had for herself as well. That was temptation though. It could haunt her dreams, but it would all be out of her mind. Not today.