i'll do anything i can it's the wrong way
'what is it with birds?'

He knew, he knew who she was, what happened during that time. Asked questions about what she did remember. The concentration on the details, she didn't want to bother with, but she wasn't going to admit to it. The way that what she did recall was more than a memory. The aftermath of something bigger than her or what feelings that brought her back to. The kind that were her own, but she just questioned if it didn't have to do with her. The way that everything went about, the thoughts and mental state that tugged at her well-being. She could have caused that. There wasn't a question to it given what she could do. And she didn't even hold the abilities enough to know how far they could be pressed or what else she could do. But there was that knowledge, beyond everyone using that word. Powerful.

It didn't explain anything or enough to make it anything. This didn't stop Rachel from feeling it. Pride wanting to push to the surface, more than a speck floating in water. An impurity that could be held. A place wasn't all that she remembered. She had spoken of it once before. Feet not touching the ground. Not just her own, but another. She had watched it in actions. Words spoken lost upon her, feelings never there as nothing made sense. But it was there, she had been. It was real, no matter how much she didn't want to believe it. Lying to herself continuously wasn't a real option here. Believing that she had lost her mind or wasn't real, that wasn't lying. It did leave her to questioning how real life was here.

Wavering between truth or a dream state in all of this, there was something wrong as she moved to continue on away from the door. Having just locked up and moved out of the back door, to leave work and finally head home, her feet were no longer on the ground. There was a wobble, a loss of balance, as she moved, eyes wide. This wasn't supposed to happen, but she wasn't about to completely panic yet. Her thoughts led straight to the ground, but her emotions ran ragged. She wasn't going down, how did she work with this? The ground below her wasn't getting closer, it was moving away from her. Not literally, it was more her moving away from it.

Ravens could fly. She could on another plane. This, was not a level of expectation, but she understood it. Waited on some sudden change, but nothing came still. She was moving higher, and it was about to prove dangerous. Without gravity, her body began to turn and flip, in her attempt to gain control. Purse about to leave her, as she moved for her phone. Time froze as that edge of panic moved through to her. It did nothing for her or for the bag as it still fell to the ground before the door. Her phone being all that she had left. Shoving it between her teeth, she bit down, not trusting any pockets or places she may shove it in case she moved upside down. She could be sorry for this later, as her hands moved to try and grip whatever she could of the side of the building. Her ascent moving a little faster as she became more emotional about the issue at hand.

Fingers scrapping against the wall, pushing pulling to try and knocking herself out of the direction she was holding. In fear of pushing herself too far from the building, she tried for a window. It wasn't open, but she could figure that part out once she made it there. Concentration, she pushed herself there, pulling when needed, but she just overshot it. Leaving herself to spiral out of control, still moving upward, as she met the building not too far away. The funeral home itself held everything in home, so the moment that she even hit that wall, she felt grateful. Once she ended up getting over the pain of her awkwardly hitting it. Her own directions still off, unable to control where she went and anything beyond up, which wasn't controlled either.

Looking beyond the scrapes and bruising that was occurring, the burning that would come with the attempt to get a good grip on the roof. She was acting outside of time. A space at which no one else could see her now. Maybe this was a good thing, in a way. What if she had done this at night? No one to be able to see her or find her? What if the worst would happen? This was not her usual line of thinking, but she knew she was in real trouble without the ability to pull this all together.

Hands gripped the gutters and she was already disgusted with whatever she couldn't see her fingers had dug into. She didn't want to know, didn't want to see it. It was coming, but she would refuse. Phone still there between her teeth, even though she was more worried now that it might slip, even with her jaw locked in on it. Even as she tried to pull herself, still moving up, just slower, steadier. The gutter broke off in her hand.

"Shit!" Making grabs for the shingles, her fingers dug into anything she could get a hold of. A slickness about it now, made it more difficult. But she made it to some piping. Able to use it to push her inward, she waited for that to hurt too. The impact of it, and it did. Everything could have been worse, and she made a mental note of that. Solar paneling there, finally some luck as she found a place to hold a good grip to. Legs wrapping another area to keep her down. The world moving back as it should as she wiped her hands and her phone on her clothes, attempting to figure out what to do here.

There was a coolness kept as she attempted to figure out a path of least resistance. Thoughts and calming herself down. Using her emotions to bring her to some sort of state that allowed for manipulation. This was why she had never been that child that wanted to fly as their superpower. What kind of stupid superpower was that anyway? What were you going to do with this other than be a lame freak that the world can look up and go, oh, who is this loser that can only play pretend with the birds?

This line of thought wasn't helping her, but nothing else was either. She couldn't get down, and her current sets of powers were completely useless where this stood. If she left her body looking for help or to pull herself down, she might lose herself in the same process. Because, could she actually do that to herself? This seemed like all kinds of conflict in the making. The longer this went on, the more her abilities went out of sync. Each coming into play on their own, waging a war of their own due to her emotional status. But help was going to be needed and she didn't want to reach out. Not past him, but she knew this was going to be troublesome either way. If she was going to die today, she was going to have to make a point of letting it be known.

'houston, we have a problem.'

For the help that she gained in getting home, in pulling herself back together, she was still having this issue. At least now she was just indoors. Safer than outside and what that brought upon. A switch she couldn't just shut off. She wanted to knock herself out and see if that would work. Her body had to stay down if it were unconscious, didn't it? Or was this something she held literally no control over? How was she supposed to live like this?

Where did being stronger than this ever come into play? Why did she ever really believe she could handle all of this? Not that she fully believed it, but she could lie to herself. Nothing was fine. Nothing would ever be fine again. It was difficult enough to bother with wanting help, in needing anything. At least it hadn't just been assumed because she brought it up. But it was true to life. She didn't know what to do and she didn't know how to make it real. How was she supposed to do anything, let alone deal with this? She was off her feet, spinning in the air. She never wanted to be an astronaut in her entire life either.

Weights, she didn't believe in, no matter how or why it helped. She could pull somethings up with her. Others, not so much. Her phone still a lifeline, she kept it on herself. Her biggest troubles moving in when she needed to use the bathroom or wanted a drink of water. She knew that this wasn't going to turn out the way she wanted it to. That there had to be better triggers here. She had to have been getting this all wrong. There was something about this that wasn't working like it should.

This was a puzzle she needed to solve that went beyond domestic images and real world riddles. Not that one image didn't do better than the other. Calming, about as much as that attempt at eating some ice cream did. But there had to be more to it than that. She had been tiring herself out, pushing emotions, using the intensity to help her do as she wished. Forcing these ideas out of herself, the larger bouts of power as she went through it all. It took so much more, draining, exhausting, as her body still attempted to adjust. She may as well have been holding full fledged fights daily.

#justrachelthings.

It made her sound pathetic. Fully loaded with issues that she brought upon herself. If that didn't pull her up and away, there was no telling what would. As it literally left her zipping across her own living room. The knot that would show up on her head, she was going to keep that as if it were some sort of battle wound. Special in its own right. This was why she didn't have so much in the real friendship area. This is why she didn't dare bother to believe in anything being real. Being this person wasn't going to be allowed. Not for herself and she didn't care about how it turned out otherwise.

She needed to use that book she pretended not to have. It wasn't as if anyone had asked her about it since she bought it. Not making a point of showing it off after the fact. It sounded so stupid and foreign. To meditate. How did one just clear their mind without being a tool or a complete airhead? How did the world work like this? The thoughts she ever allowed herself to bother with, they held a purpose, a direction. There was no special means to an end. Things to do, places to be, people to help. Actions were more than words in a needed pinch. These are rules that were to be lived by as far as what she did with her job. A career that offset the rest of her life. But she needed the money, the means of taking care of herself. Because she couldn't just have someone else do that for her. Not again. What she did with Devin wasn't that. There was an equality to it. Equal measure in what was done. If she took too much, she gave it back. That was how it was. She didn't want to just keep taking. There would be no use or abuse.

Ignoring her current position in the air, she crossed her legs. Floating there, it didn't matter how she was or why, but something about that felt more comfortable. As if she weren't just sitting there on nothing. There was more than air to feel against her leg, even if it were only her other leg. Eyes closed, her hands were above her head, just enough to push herself down from the ceiling. A slight push, just more than a nudge, before palms met her knees. Slow deep breaths, as she continued to feel like a complete and total idiot. As seconds turned into minutes, she began to forget about her breath, no longer focusing on any of it. Just feeling the movement that stemmed from her chest, as air moved in and out. Through her nose, out of her mouth. How her stomach followed suit, due to her diaphragm. The expanding and deflating.

Time flew by, weakness held within her own depths. Clearing her mind didn't work, but focusing on herself and her body it helped as she became tired from the events of the past hours, day, week, and even month. The fatigue pulling back into her. Breathing came easier, as she pushed everything away. Every stray thought, every unkind or harsh moment. A life that she had been trying to cope with, a past that had come back to call for her to change it. Her life a whim of ideals and thoughts she could make a difference with. Bettering lives and herself, even if there meant that she would not be left in any sort of existence left.

She overcame what she needed to with her parents. Being someone of worth, it was less of what mattered. Worth wasn't one of those things that anyone could really label you with. There had just been that hope, to believe that her own parents had seen more of something in her. To want her and have believed more in her. She didn't understand what else had been there, but she didn't let that push her back now. There was a belief in her, and it was spoken enough. A push to try, to lift up and believe in. At least it was enough to make her smile.

Thoughts had to be driven out, good and bad. Little did she realize, to feel the flow of air as she lightly began to ascend and descend. The round about way she was slowly moving for the floor as she continued on. Slow and gradual, baby steps. Pride would catch her fall, but it wouldn't hurt her. Not here, not like this. This was a place she could be safe. She didn't need to be saved here. She wasn't going to go out and tell anyone when something new happened. She wasn't going to ask for anything else anymore. She wasn't going to claim anything but that she was fine. To shut it all off and away as she learned to accept a level of calm serenity that she could barely recall holding at any point in her life. The way this past month had gone, it was a miracle that she recalled her own name.