Because apparently people really wanted to see more of this…

Blink 1.2

"How was your first day at school, Taylor?"

I sighed, slinging the backpack off of my shoulder and onto the floor next to the desk.

"It was fine, I guess," I responded. "It's just… everybody was looking at me. I couldn't…"

I swallowed.

"You know they'll stop in time, right? I'm sure they're just curious."

"I know, Dragon. I know, but it's just…" I looked over at the computer screen on my desk where an image of a dark-haired woman sitting in front of her own desk in a well-lit room was. "It's happening now."

The woman sighed. "How was the rest of your day, at least?"

I leaned back in my chair. "It was okay. School. But it was so different from…" I trailed off.

"From Winslow," Dragon finished. I nodded

"Everybody seemed to want to talk to me, and the teachers were all nice, and all of the other kids were nice to me too, and it's like, like…" I drew my legs up, hugging them and pressing them against my accelerator, my feet resting on the seat. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it can't be like that, right? It can't be that easy. And I keep looking for proof that it's all an act, trying to figure out why they want to know me, other than just because I can do things. And I know Jessica says it's a defense mechanism, that I shouldn't be expecting the worst all the time, that what I went through has conditioned me and I have to actively work against it, but it's so hard to just let go."

Something warm dripped down my cheeks.

Oh great, I was crying. Fuck.

My breathing was shaky, and I hadn't even noticed when it had started.

Dragon looked sympathetic. "It's times like these that make me wish I could give you a hug."

I gave a hiccuping laugh, rubbing at my eyes with the heels of my palms, trying to wipe away the tears. "Yeah." When had been the last time I'd had a hug? A year? More? I couldn't remember the last time Dad had given me one.

I sniffled, and then forced myself to take a deep measured breath. "It's alright. I'll be fine."

"You know Doctor Yamada says you shouldn't box up your feelings," Dragon said.

I laughed again, this time less wet-sounding. "I know. I'm trying. This? This wouldn't have happened two months ago. I wouldn't have been crying over something stupid like this."

"It's not stupid, Taylor. They're perfectly valid feelings considering what you've gone through."

I sniffed again, and it finally felt like my eyes weren't getting any wetter, but didn't say anything.

"Did you see Victoria and Amy? Or anybody else?" she asked. The change in subject didn't escape my notice.

"Yeah. I had lunch with them. And Dean. I saw Chris in the hallways before classes, but nobody else."

Dragon gave me a smile. "Well that's good. Something familiar, at least."

"I didn't have any classes with anybody, though," I told her.

She shrugged. "They're all in different grades than you. It wasn't unexpected."

I simply nodded.

"How did the accelerator hold up?" she questioned, shifting gears again.

"It was fine. I wish it was less obvious," I said.

"Well, I can't make any promises, but Colin and I are working on something that may help with that," Dragon told me.

"Can I get some better straps, at least? My backpack sits right on top of them," I explained, fussing with the cuff of my leather jacket. "The jacket helped, kinda. I didn't even know it was going to be a problem before today…"

Dragon smiled. "I think we can get you a nicer harness, especially if you're going to keep wearing it under your clothes at school."

"It's just… easier," I said. Even if it made me look flatter than I already was, it meant that it was hidden from view. That people couldn't openly gawk at me as easily. Or worse, ask to touch it.

It was supposed to be pretty stable and safe, but I still didn't want to deal with people potentially screwing up the only thing keeping me anchored in normal-time.

I didn't technically have to wear it, that was just the most convenient way to drag it with me everywhere. Really, I only had to be within a meter or so of it at all times so that the field it emitted countered my own "relative local tachyon synchronization imbalance". AKA flickering in and out of reality and being a real-life Schrödinger's cat.

They'd shown me recordings of what it had looked like. I was washed-out like a black and white image, blinking in and out and flickering like a video skipping frames.

To me, it had been the opposite. Everything else had been greyscale, alternating between perfect clarity and looking like it was all viewed underwater, though I could move around the same no matter what.

I didn't need to sleep, or eat, or do anything during those days. I just was.

I'd thought it was simply a dream, a nightmare, at first.

Oh, it'd been a nightmare alright, but not a dream.

"I admit it wasn't something we gave a lot of thought to originally. Something custom-fitted would probably be best," Dragon said, bringing me back to reality. "Do you have any preferences for materials?"

I shrugged. "Not really?" I didn't even know what kind of stuff there was.

"I'll look into it then," she said, looking down at something on her screen. "We've already got scans of you from when we made the accelerator, so I'll just use that model for fitting." Dragon looked back up at the camera. "It shouldn't take more than a day at most."

I gave her as much of a smile as I could manage. "Thanks, Dragon."

She shook her head. "It's no problem, Taylor, really."

"You don't have to do all of this, thou–"

"But I want to," she interrupted. "I want to help you, and that's why I do. Not everybody's looking for something from you when they do something."

I sagged. I still had doubts, occasionally. They were getting rarer, but they still flared up, like now. Why everybody was helping. Why they were bending over backwards now when before they'd just ignored me. Why Dragon was taking a personal interest in me and helping so much, ostensibly for no reason other than she wanted to. Not because I was an experiment, or a test, or she wanted to make sure I didn't blow up (okay, that last one might have been a minor part of it), but simply because she wanted to.

It felt… nice, really really nice, having someone do that. Care. The problem was how broken I was from Emma, how I had simultaneously had a pathological fear of making deep connections because of the betrayal and a deep-seated desire for human contact and care because I hadn't had it in so long.

Or at least, that's what Jessica had told me when I'd asked.

When I'd asked her why she'd answered –because wasn't that not normal for therapists– she told me that the best thing to do with someone like me is to be completely open and honest.

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about all of that.

I really liked Dragon, too. I wanted to be able to just trust and accept her. She was like this astoundingly smart big sister, with how she treated me and the way she acted. And I liked having people I could talk to with some regularity and who could understand –the Wards and Amy and Victoria– who might even be friends.

"I can tell you're deep in thought, so I'll just leave you to that and go check on Colin. I'm sure you have homework to do too," Dragon said teasingly. "You should get it done before dinner. I hear Hannah's cooking tonight." My mouth started watering at the thought. "I'll talk to you later afterwards if you want."

I just nodded, not trusting my mouth and instead taking the easy way out of admitting that I had grown semi-used to and maybe mildly dependent upon our conversations.

"Bye for now," she said.

"Thanks, Dragon," I repeated, though this was more broad-scoped, not just thanks for helping with the harness but thanks for being there, thanks for caring, thanks for believing in me when nobody else did.

"Of course. Just call me if you need me," she said warmly.

I nodded, my throat thick.

The screen blinked off.

After a moment, I sighed and started digging through my bag for my homework.