Author's note:
Thank you to Lillith Langtree and Enemyoffun for their generous help. I am one grateful little girl. Thank you also to Marvel Comics for the creation of some of the wonderful characters used in this story.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I got up this morning, and had a feeling that I couldn’t explain. Sort of the same feeling that I got when I was about to compete in a full contact kumite. It was a nervous, light feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Hungry, Brian?” my mother asked. “I’m making eggs and sausage, your favorite!”

I grimaced, and my stomach did a little flip. “I’ll pass this morning, mom. Do you have some toast or something? My stomach is a little off today”

She looked concerned and walked over to me. “You’re not coming down with something, are you? You’ve got a big week coming up at school” She felt my forehead, and proclaimed me fever-free.

Rolling my eyes, I gently pulled her hand away. “I’m okay, mom. I just have a little queasy feeling in my stomach. Some milk and toast will take care of it”

Looking at me suspiciously, she turned back to the refrigerator to get me some milk. “If you say so, honey. I guess the finals coming up are making you a little nervous”

Laughing nervously, I replied “That’s got to be it, mom. I know my subjects cold, but I do get nervous”

“Well, let me put a little chocolate in your milk and some cream cheese on a bagel, and you’ll be right as rain in no time”

I wish I felt as confident as I sounded. “Thanks, mom”

The end of the school year was coming up, and finals were a part of the yearly rite of passage that all students go through. I was a good student, with a 3.75 GPA. I was very disciplined in my studies, a side benefit of the 10 years of karate I had taken. I was a third degree black belt, and competed regularly at the state level.

After finishing my breakfast, I went back to my room to gather my backpack and bag for my gi. I smiled, looking at my latest trophy. “Brian Braddock-First Place Michigan Karate Association Kumite” That tournament was just last week, and I had been on my game as never before. Not only did I win the tournament, but I thoroughly dominated the competition. I wasn’t even touched. I could almost see what they were going to do before they did it.

I was just about to walk out of the room, when the headache hit again. Like a knife splitting my skull in two, the pain hit suddenly and drove me to my knees. I was just about to scream, when I heard my mother singing some song from the 80’s. The pain subsided and left completely. The singing faded away.

What the hell was that? I thought. The headaches had come and gone soon after my 16th birthday. They would only last a few seconds, and then go away. When they started, my parents had taken me to the doctor, who could never find anything wrong. He referred me to a neurologist, and after every possible test in the book, couldn’t find anything either. No tumor, no nerve problems, nothing.

This time was the first time I heard anything during an attack. It was weird, almost like I was hearing mom singing through a set of headphones. I shook my head and went downstairs with my stuff.

“Mom? That song you were singing was lame. I’m mean really. ‘Don’t Stop Believin’?

She looked stunned. “I wasn’t singing anything, Brian. I was listening to the song on my ipod, and remembering the first time I heard it. How did you know that?”

It was my turn to think. “Are you sure? I thought for sure I heard you singing that song”

She looked to one side, puzzled. “I don’t know, maybe I did…I guess” She didn’t sound convinced.

Suddenly, she looked at me and then her watch. “Brian! Get going! You’ll be late for school!”

I ran out to my car, a sweet 2008 Prius that was a gift for my 16th birthday. My parents were fairly well off, and the price was right for the car. It was just what I wanted. Something that was good for the planet, and easy on the gas. They may have paid for the car, but I still had to put the fuel in.

I made it to school with plenty of time to spare. I parked my ride, and walked toward the building. Tracy, my girlfriend of three years was waiting for me at the door. She ran up to me and gave me a big hug.

“Hello, sleepyhead!” she chirped. “Have trouble getting out of bed this morning”

Smiling, I replied, “Yeah, Trace. I was dreaming about you all night and didn’t want to wake up!”

Tracy laughed and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s the best reason to be late you could have had, tiger”

“Who’s late? We still have 10 minutes until the bell?” I asked.

Tracy pouted. “You’re late for being early, dork! I need us time in the morning!”

I never understood why she needed us time. I liked being with her, but the female mind was a mystery to me sometimes. The littlest things could send her into rapturous joy or crying like she had lost her best friend. She was an enigma, yes. But she was my enigma.

Giving Tracy another hug, I smiled. This was the kind of girl you never got tired of. I felt so lucky to have her. Drop-dead hot, and eyes for only me. “Walk me to my locker?”

She sighed in mock exasperation “I guess, tiger, if you insist”

We got in a couple of quick kisses before any of the prude patrol noticed us. I made it to my first class, American History. Monday was current events day, and it was a great excuse to talk about all of the new meta-humans that had been popping up. They had cool powers, and I had enough comic book nerd in me to find it truly fascinating. None had shown up in our neck of the woods, Ann Arbor, Michigan, and more broadly the Greater Detroit area.

I was a sponge when it came to reading about them. Jade, the Green Lantern was seriously cool. There was another Green Lantern, I couldn’t remember her name. The YouTube videos of Giganta popping out of her clothes was cool, if 70 foot tall naked women were your thing. I had actually saw the Green Lantern flying over one night. She was way high, but I could see the telltale green glow as she flew over in orbit.

A lot of people thought that the metas were evil, and should be exterminated. I didn’t, but I was glad there were good guys and girls out there to protect us from the bad ones.

There was a news story about a chick in Japan that had caused some destruction using lighting. There weren’t too many details, but the video looked off the charts. We began our almost weekly discussion about the latest Meta events. Mr. Johnson, our teacher asked for opinions.

I raised my hand.

Mr. Johnson called on me. “Mr. Braddock?”

“Well, sir, I can’t help but believe that overall, this has to be a good thing, as long as the new metas obey the law”

Nodding, Mr. Johnson thought. “Class, Brian here has an opinion, which I happen to agree with. But there is the other side of the coin. These metas have, in some cases, tremendous power. What is the old saying, ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely’? What about the people who can’t handle that power”

The entire class was silent. Finally, Herb Kilton, a junior like me, said. “Then you have to put them down, just like a mad dog” There were murmurs of agreement in the class.

Mr. Johnson was nodding; them got up and walked around to the front of his desk. “Ok, it seems like a good idea, on the surface. Let’s dig deeper. Herb, you go home, and your brother has suddenly acquired massive power, say, he was able to disintegrate matter with some kind of beam. Follow me so far?”

The class nodded in agreement.

“Okay, Herb, your brother is good for a week or so, getting used to these powers. Say something traumatic happens. Your family needs money for an operation. A fire burns down your house. Somehow, you need money. Your brother knocks over a bank to get it. He did it for the right reasons, but he just robbed that bank what should be done with him”

Herb didn’t know what to say. But he was thinking. The whole class was.

“I’m not saying that any of this is going to happen. Chances are it won’t. But the people who are blessed, and at the same time cursed with fantastic abilities don’t have a choice what happens to them. They have got to operate with the set of values they have been brought up with. Some will be good, some bad, others will do what is convenient to them. What happens to them? Well, I’m glad I don’t have to make that decision.”

The bell rang, and as usual, Mr. Johnson had given us all something to think about.

I was walking down the hall to my next class when I was pushed from the side by a large figure. Bob Franklin had thought it would be funny to push me into Dee Smith, a wheelchair bound paraplegic who had been born with spina bifida. I tripped over her wheelchair, toppling her out of it. Both of us hit the floor, and our books went everywhere. I hit my head on a locker, and was momentarily dazed. Bob and his bunch of ass kissers started laughing like a pack of hyenas.

Dee was crying and embarrassed. I recovered and apologized.

“Why don’t you look where you’re going Karate Kid? You knocked the gimp out of her chair” said Bob with a sneer.

I ignored the idiots and turned my attention to Dee. “Are you all right, Dee? I’m so sorry, those jerk offs pushed me into you”

“It’s okay, Brian, I saw what happened. Can you help me into my chair?”

“Sure, Dee. What do I do?”

“Just hold the chair still, and I can get into it” she sniffled, and pulled herself into her wheelchair. I felt so bad for her. People were laughing, and it was no laughing matter. She could have been badly hurt. That made me angry.

After helping her, I turned to Bob and got right into his face. “What was that all about, dickweed? Dee could have been hurt”

“Then you should watch where you’re going, asshole”

Bob Franklin was a large athletic moron with more muscles than sense. He was a bully, and was heavier than me by sixty pounds, and had four inches on my five foot ten inch frame. He was going to college at Michigan State in the fall on a football scholarship. He intimidated everyone in the school but me, and he knew it, so he was itching to prove his superiority to me in a fight. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting his ass whipped by a little bookworm like me. I could take him, but the backlash from the community for hurting one of their golden boys wouldn’t be worth the satisfaction of breaking his smug face.

“Whatever, you steaming pile of crap. You know what they say, the bigger they are…”

Leaning into me he said, “The harder they hit”

I leaned back, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Damn, Franklin. Do you gargle with toilet water? Your breath stinks like shit” This comment elicited laughter from the people in the hall. I turned and walked to Dee.

Sensing he was just humiliated the dimwitted jock reached for me. Big mistake, and one that I had been waiting on. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, I grabbed it from the front, spun around, bent his hand back toward him, and took his feet out from underneath. He went down hard, face first, and I was on his back with his hand twisted behind his back.

Grunting in pain, he was helpless. I leaned down to his ear and whispered “No, jackass, the harder they fall” I gave his arm a little tweak and he groaned in pain. “Remember, loser. I've studied nonstop for ten years learning to take out morons like you, and it’s fun. Don’t ever touch me again, or I’ll finish the job”

The crowd parted as a teacher came up. “All right, break it up!” I got up from Bob and looked to the teacher.

“I know. Office, right?” The teacher nodded.

Dee’s high voice rose above the din. “Wait! Bob started it. He jumped Brian from behind!” Her friends in the hall all agreed with her. “We all saw it!”

Bob’s friends all swore I started it, but the reputation of the ones saying he started it outweighed the lowlifes who defended Bob. I still went to the office, but was confident that I would be on the light end of the punishment scale once the story came out.

“This ain’t over, punk!” bellowed Bob. “We’ll finish this after school”

I smiled at him and shrugged. “It’s your funeral”

We went to the office and by the time everything was sorted out, I got a verbal warning, and Bob would be spending the next two weeks in detention.

The rest of my day went without incident. Tracy had heard about my adventure and was very impressed, although she was worried about the consequences. I felt like one of the metas, taking out the bad guy, even if he was a slightly dense muscle brain.

“How’s Dee?” Tracy asked as we arrived at my locker.

Pulling my pack out of my locker, I replied “She’s okay. A couple of bruises, I guess. I was scared she was hurt worse. Franklin really shoved me into her”

“I hope he rots -- the little prick. Dee’s such a sweet girl. I’m glad I’m a Wolverine fan.” Tracy really didn’t like bullies, and Bob had been after her for a year, trying to get her to break up with me. He didn’t get it. She was more girl than he would ever have unless he changed his ways.

Then a wave of nausea hit me, followed by an explosion in my head. I screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor. My last memory was of Tracy yelling for help, then everything went black.

I slowly regained consciousness in a darkened room. I kept hearing beeps, and as my eyes began to focus, I saw I was in a hospital room. Mom and dad were in there, talking to a man in a white coat that looked like a doctor. I tried to speak, but somehow I couldn’t move my mouth. Wanting to sit up, but finding I couldn’t move. It was like I was completely paralyzed. Hell, I was completely paralyzed. I could blink, but that was it. This was bad.

The man in the white coat came over to me and looked into my face. “It looks like he’s regained consciousness, Mr. And Mrs. Braddock. He shined a light into my eyes, testing for pupil reaction, I guessed.

“Brian, I’m Doctor Bennett, your neurologist. Can you understand me? Move anything you can to communicate. Talk if you can” I blinked.

He continued on quietly “Brian. Blink once for yes and twice for no, okay.” One blink.

Brian, you appear to have had a stroke, or something like a stroke. You’ve been in a coma for two days. We took an MRI and an alphabet soup of other tests and found extensive damage to your cerebral cortex. Do you understand?” One blink. Oh crap!

“I know you are wondering what’s going on. We don’t really know either. But our best guess with all the tests we have done is that somehow, your brain is undergoing some sort of change -- rewiring itself. Your synapses are all messed up. That’s why you can’t move. The best I can tell you is that it’s as if your brain shut down and completely changed its operating system. Like one minute you are a PC, and the next, you’re a Mac.

That I could understand. So I was a Mac now. The corners of my mouth twitched up slightly into a shallow smile. I hated PC’s.

The doctor smiled “That’s good Brian! So you like being a Mac?” He looked at my parents. “This is very good. It appears that the paralysis may not be permanent. We must continue monitoring him for new signs of movement”

Mom and dad hugged each other and came to my side. Dad leaned down “We’re here for you, Brian. We aren’t leaving until you’re a hundred percent again”

I blinked once and tried to crack a little smile. “Would you like to see Tracy?” One blink.

Mom went outside and a couple of minutes later came in with Tracy. She came up to my bed and looked down at me. She didn’t have any makeup on, and her face was blotchy from crying, but she never looked more beautiful to me. “So Tiger, you didn’t think you were going to get rid of me that easy did you?” Two blinks.

She looked at mom. “Two blinks means no, Tracy. He’s still paralyzed. One blink means yes”

She looked down at me and held my hand. I could feel her squeezing my hand; I just couldn’t move my muscles. She was trying so hard not to start crying in front of me. It was difficult for me to. I knew I loved her at that moment. A tear started down my cheek.

Choking back her sobs, Tracy looked at me. “I won’t leave you, Brian. No matter what happens. I love you.” She turned, buried her head into my dad’s shoulder, and sobbed. My parents both had tears streaming down their faces. I did too.

My recovery went slowly at first. I didn’t gain the ability to even move my head for a week. I noticed a difference in how I looked at things. Nothing that I could put into words, but still noticeable. Tracy was watching a show in my room on the hated Lifetime network. It was slightly less irritating. Ok, it was engrossing, about how the cheerleader overcame the hate of her classmates.

Another two weeks went by, and I was able to sit up, and feed myself. I noticed my hair was getting longer, and I kind of liked it, so I wouldn’t let them cut it. I still couldn’t walk, or talk, and either mom or Tracy would wheel me around the hospital to the rec area or physical therapy. She was like a little Florence Nightingale, always around after school to read to me, or just talk about her day. I really enjoyed that. Hearing about what she did, and the people she met and what she had to say was just the coolest thing ever.

“Brian, school will be out Friday for the summer, so we will be able to be together all the time. Won’t that be great!”

I shook my head and smiled. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I was so frustrated. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but the words wouldn’t come. I began to cry silently.

“What’s the matter, Tiger?” I couldn’t respond. I held my arms out to her for a hug, which she returned enthusiastically.

As she hugged me, he hand slipped across my chest. As she crossed my nipple, it felt as if she had hit me with a rake. I winced in pain.

Tracy noticed my discomfort, and backed away. “I’m sorry, honey. Did that hurt? I shook my head yes.” I held my chest and cried silently. It really hurt. “Oh, baby. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you all right?”

I nodded and hugged her to show there were no hard feelings. I knew it was a mistake. It hurt, but hell, I had been through worse. Why was I crying over it?

After another week and a half, I was able to stand and physical therapy was going well. I still couldn’t speak. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to communicate again. I couldn’t even write what I wanted to say, as my fine motor controls weren’t back yet.

My recovery was progressing slowly. I was achy everywhere in my body, especially my hips, ribs and face. I was miserable, and was not able to adequately communicate my suffering. My hair was also growing fast, too fast to be completely natural.

My mother came in one morning and looked at me. She squinted, and her hands flew up to her mouth. She called for the doctor.

A few minutes later, Doctor Bennett came in and looked at me. He looked at me and looked puzzled, rubbing his chin. “Brian, are you in any pain?” I nodded yes, enthusiastically. He asked for a mirror for me to look at. What I saw was shocking. My face had changed. It was no longer mine. In its place was a girl’s face. I looked like someone who could have been Brian’s sister.

Holding my hand to my face, I touched it to make sure it was mine. I had shoulder-length black hair, a heart-shaped face, and long eyelashes. My irises were a strange color of violet now, almost pink. I had a slightly almond shape to my eyes, as if I had some Asian descent.

“Brian, I’d like to examine you if I could. Would you like your mother to stay? I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to see me right now. I gave her an “I’m sorry” look as I shook my head”

She looked somewhat disappointed “That’s ok Brian, I understand. If you need me, I’ll be right outside”

“Ok, Brian, I’m going to turn down your bed. I’m going to do a physical exam first.” He proceeded to poke and prod me everywhere. He pulled up my hospital gown and said, “Hmmm. Brian, have you noticed anything different about your penis?”

I blushed and nodded yes. It had been getting smaller since the accident. It was originally about five inches soft, and now was no bigger than it had been when I was ten. I just attributed it to inactivity. I hadn’t had a reaction to anything since my stroke, or whatever it was, and it just wasn’t at the top of my mind. Doctor Bennett proceeded to feel my hip and waist area, and then looked at my chest. My nipples, and the area around them were quite swollen and tender. I mean they were very swollen about the size of half of an avocado. I wondered if I was getting some sort of infection.

“Does your chest hurt, Brian?”

I nodded yes and gave the more or less signal with my hand.

“Brian, I’m going to do more blood work on you, okay? Go ahead and get your gown arranged.”

My mom came back in, and asked the doctor if everything was okay. He scratched his head and looked at her. “I honestly don’t know, Mrs. Braddock. Brian’s body is undergoing some changes, as you can clearly see by his face. These changes appear to be affecting his skeletal structure. I’m ordering some blood work now.

The nurse came in to jab me for the thousandth time. She was having a hard time getting a vein. She jabbed once too often in the same place and grazed a nerve. I flinched in pain and a pinkish spark shot out of my hand and hit the nurse. She winced and cried “Ouch! That was some static shock, Brian!” I didn’t feel a thing, but did get a brief instant of hearing her say shit loudly, but I heard it the same time she said ouch. What was up with that?

I had progressed enough to receive more visitors. I had a few, beginning with the sensei from my karate dojo was among the first to visit. He happened to catch me when neither Mom, Dad nor Tracy was in the room.

He came into the room and looked at me, got an embarrassed look on his face, stopped and bowed politely. “I’m sorry, Miss. I was looking for someone and I must have gotten the wrong room. I’m looking for room 625”

I nodded my head and motioned for him to come closer. Sensei Ozawa seemed perplexed. “What do you need, miss? Do you need a nurse?”

I shook my head and reached for him. I was beginning to feel like Lassie trying to tell someone that little Timmy was in the well. He came close enough for me to grab hold of his hand. I held up one finger to get him to wait. I had a dry erase board by my bedside. I still wasn’t very good at writing, but I tried to get something he would understand.

With a shaky script, I managed to write I am Brian. Sensei Ozawa looked at me closely then shook his head. “This is not possible! What is going on here, a joke?”

I shook my head no and held my finger up again. I wrote, No joke. I am Brian I erased the board and restarted. I was getting a little better at writing. Had lots of problems. Doc doesn’t know what is wrong.

He read the board and shook his head. “So you can’t speak yet?” I shook my head no.

Studying me carefully, he suddenly brightened up. “I see a resemblance now, but you had changed quite a bit from the last time I saw you”

I smiled at him. I erased the board and wrote, I know, sensei. My face is different.

“I’ll say, Brian. I don’t know what to say. Get better”

I scribbled again. Thank you. I can’t wait to come back. Missed the dojo.

It was Sensei Ozawa’s turn to smile. “I have missed you too, Brian. The other students have too. You have overcome a lot to be where you are. I have talked to your family quite often during your illness”

I nodded. I scribbled again. I’ll come back as soon as they let me go!

Some of my friends wanted to come to see me also, but I didn’t want to see anyone until I knew how to handle my change. I didn’t want to explain myself on the dry erase board any more than I had to. The thought of my old guy friends ogling me was a little too much to handle right now.

About a week after my tests, Doctor Bennett came into the room with my mom and dad. He had a serious look on his face. Tracy was with me, as usual. Doctor Bennett looked at Tracy and said “Will you excuse us for a minute” Tracy looked at me and got up, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me as hard as I could, which wasn’t very hard. I shook my head no, and held on to her.

“It’s okay, Doc,” said my dad. “Tracy is a part of the family. Anything you have to say, she can hear.”

Doctor Bennett sighed “All right, but what I have to say will be difficult to hear.”

My mom spoke up. “Out with it Doctor. We need to know”

“I’ve been running several tests over last few weeks. Medically speaking, Brian is recovering. The brain damage is healing itself nicely, although there is no medical precedent for this. I’ve also been running blood chemistry and DNA work. I’ve come to the conclusion that Brian here is a Meta. The unexplained brain repair and rewiring, the recovery, all are unmistakable signs. The DNA testing confirms the presence of an abnormal gene in Brian’s sequence. I have made some calls regarding Brian’s condition, and you will be contacted by someone.

Mom and Dad looked at each other and gasped. Mom reached over to dad and grasped his hand. They looked at the doctor to continue. Tracy just held me. Crap! I was getting smaller.

“There are other changes too, and these are possibly more significant. Blood chemistry testing indicates that Testosterone levels are nearly nonexistent at this point, and that blood chemistry is identical to a pubescent girl”

My jaw dropped. A pubescent girl? That’s not possible, right?

Tracy looked at me and held me close. “I’ll be with you forever, Brian. Remember that. We’ll work this out” I was so grateful for her hugs. I needed her to hold me. I leaned in to her. We were now about the same size.

“DNA testing indicates that Brian’s genetic structure is changing. He is mostly a genetic female now. Probably along the lines of eighty-five to ninety percent. I haven’t told you anything until now, because I wanted to be absolutely sure. We need to do another MRI to gauge any internal changes. I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I just made my findings official today”

Mom and Dad were stunned. I looked at Tracy with tears running down my face. What would I do now? What could I do? I fell into Tracy’s arms and cried silently. Would I lose the girl I loved to some stupid genetic mistake?

Tracy stroked my hair and held me. “It’s all right Brian, I still love you. This changes nothing”

I broke her hug, and looked her in the eyes. She had the most beautiful blue eyes. I opened my mouth. “i…..i…i….s…s…sorry” in a quiet whisper. “l..l..love……y…you”

Tracy dissolved into tears at this. I could sort of speak again, I knew she was hurting. I was too. Mom and Dad were with us. We would deal with this. Together.

The MRI indicated that I had female organs developing inside me. My male parts were slowly atrophying. Breasts had begun to develop, as was the female shape. My bone structure was changing. My face had changed. I had lost some height. All of these changes were strangely without anxiety. I found myself looking forward to them.

Over the next couple of months, I developed into quite the hot chick. Three weeks after my diagnosis, my penis disappeared and the next three days found me with the necessary internal plumbing. I looked at myself in the mirror every day to monitor the changes. When I regained my voice, it wasn’t the voice I had before my illness. It was a lower soprano, and very pleasant. I was five feet, six inches tall, and the tale of the tape was 34C-23-34. I was as hot as my girlfriend. Brian no longer fit me, and we all settled on calling me by the name I would have had been called had I been born a girl, Elizabeth Christine. I didn’t like Liz, Beth or the full name, so I chose to go by Betsy. I thought it was cute.

According to the doctors, my brain had been rewired. Okay, I could deal with that. I found that my reactions to certain things were just not the same as they had been as my old male self. Other things were identical. Like when I watched the Tigers on television, I found that I noticed the physical attributes of the players. For example, in one game, I noticed the opposing pitcher, Matt something. I thought he was cute. The pitcher was cute. I actually thought he was cute. I still liked sports, and karate, but from a different perspective. I was focused now more on relationships, and less on surface acquaintances. I loved to have long talks with Tracy. I really connected with her like I never had in the past. I wanted to know her, inside and out.

Mom and Tracy took measurements and did a little shopping for me. My wardrobe when they got back was a couple of pairs of jeans, four tops, panties and a couple of bras. I liked them all. For some reason, I was partial to girly stuff, so the couple of pink tees didn’t bother me at all. I was handling the transition well. The rewiring of the brain had also made me indistinguishable from a normal girl’s brain. Aside from the fact that I had highly erratic and off the charts synaptic activity, It seemed the process of destroying and rebuilding my brain took care of some of the shock of the transition so I didn’t suffer through the being a boy in a girl’s body thing.

Tracy and I had been avoiding the obvious change in the nature of our relationship. She had been so wonderful through it all, that I couldn’t bear the thought of her not being there. “Tracy, you’ve stuck with me through this whole ordeal. School is almost ready to start again, and yet here you are, hanging out with your lame girlfriend. You can’t be with me now, Tracy, for obvious reasons”

“Listen, Missy. I haven’t stood by you for all these months day after day to leave now. I told you I would stay by your side forever, and I meant it”

I sighed. “But I’m a girl now, Trace, in case you haven’t noticed!”

She got the strangest smile on her face “Oh, I’ve noticed, Betsy. I just don’t care. Let me show you” She then proceeded to give me the most achingly toe curling kiss I had ever experienced. I started having thoughts and feelings I had never experienced. My tummy did flip flops in a very good way. I felt warm between my legs. She pulled back and I just stood there, looking down at the floor, my face as red as the proverbial beet.

I collected my thoughts, twirling my hair in my fingers. I was suddenly very hot. “Oh, My, God. Tracy, you kissed me”

“What was it that Katy Perry said? I kissed a girl and I liked it?”

“That was so hot! I had forgotten what it was like to kiss you! So you mean you don’t mind that I’m, like” I gestured down at my body “This?”

“I’m in love with the person in that body, not the body. Although the body is cute! Look, Betsy, I need to tell you something. I guess I never have been locked in to one sex or the other. I dated you because you were so great to me. I could see that your spirit was completely like mine. The last couple of months have just confirmed that feeling.

“Well, Trace, the government still isn’t done with me. I don’t know what other changes are coming, or what that means”

She smiled. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it”

I had a visitor in early August that I hadn’t met before. He was a no nonsense looking man, with a buzz cut and a military bearing. He came to the door of my room and walked over to me. Since my change, I was a little skittish. I shrank back in my bed a little.

“Hello, Betsy. I’m Agent Harold Morgan from Homeland Security. Can we talk for a few minutes?”

He seemed friendly enough. Why do people always come when no one is here with me? “Okaay. What does Homeland Security want with me? Did I do something wrong?” I asked quietly.

He gave me an easy smile and shook his head. “No, Betsy, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that you’ve had some very unusual things happen to you in the last few months that have made you rather…special. As you know, some people with remarkable abilities have popped up in the last few months, and some of them aren’t too nice. They want to hurt people and just be general pains in the butt. Part of what I do is look for these individuals as early as I can find them and just talk to them, to see how the change has affected them”

“And I’m one of those people?”

He nodded. “Yes you are. Although I don’t think you are one of the bad ones.” He pulled out a note pad. “Have you noticed any changes?”

I looked at him like he was insane and gestured to my body. “Uhhh, yes!”

Agent Morgan laughed. “I mean other than the obvious. Have you noticed any unusual abilities? Please, Betsy be truthful, I do want to help, believe it or not.”

I decided to be truthful. What did I have to lose? “Well, I think I can sort of read people’s minds. It comes and goes. Like right now I have no idea what is going on in your head. I don’t think I can do anything else right now, but what I can do seems to be getting better with time”

Agent Morgan was nodding and writing in his pad. “Very good, Betsy, thank you. I need to report my findings to my superiors at the agency.”

I was sitting on the hospital bed with my knees to my chest. “I’m not going to be sent away, am I?” I was wondering at that point if honesty had been the best policy.

Agent Morgan shook his head. “This is America, Betsy. We don’t do things like that to people who follow the law. You’ve got nothing to worry about from us.”

“I’m glad she’s one of the good ones” I heard his thoughts. I tried not to give myself away, and he didn’t appear to notice. I guess he was telling the truth.

Later that day, Mom and Dad came in and asked if the agent had come to see me.

My jaw dropped. “You knew he was coming to see me?”

“Of course, honey,” said Mom. “He told us he wanted to see you and what he wanted”

Rolling my eyes, I exclaimed, “Thanks for telling me! I thought he was going to take me away or something!” I flopped down in a chair and crossed my arms in a pout. When did I start doing that?

“Oh, don’t be a drama queen, Betsy. He was a very nice, and he said he needed to find out a little about you. He didn’t do anything did he?”

“No. But still…”

“But nothing, young lady. He was harmless” chided my mother.

Shortly before my release date, Agent Morgan asked if he could talk to Mom, Dad and me. We sat down in my room.

Betsy, Mr. and Mrs. Braddock, I wanted to thank you for being so open with us. You’d be surprised at the people who aren’t so forthcoming.” He paused, looking at his watch. “I’d like to propose something to you. It’s purely voluntary, and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

My dad looked at Agent Morgan suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Well sir, we’d like Betsy to stay at a facility in Detroit where she can be monitored for further changes. Her contribution to our understanding of this phenomenon will be invaluable. Her time at the facility will be for approximately two weeks, unless major changes happen. This will enable her to adjust and perhaps learn to use what she has been given”

I sighed visibly. The last thing I wanted was to spend more time away from home. I was still a wreck emotionally, from what the doctors said, it was due to the hormones, which were still way high. I just wanted to go home”

Perhaps sensing my reluctance, Agent Morgan added “There is a ten thousand dollar bonus at the end of the time as our way of thanking you. Tax free of course”

That was a horse of another color! I could do some serious damage at a store with that kind of money. I looked at Mom and Dad, jaw agape. “Ten thousand? Dollars?”

“What do you think, honey? Are you up for it?”

“Oh yeah, Mom. I so am!”

So, I had been living in a monitored living arrangement since my discharge from the hospital in mid August. The Homeland Security agent, Harold, said that if I didn’t manifest any symptoms of powers in the next week, I would be released to go home. I had undergone one of the more unusual and gradual changes of any Meta so far according to him. I had no idea if it was the truth or not.

Tracy got to visit whenever she wanted to, as did mom and dad. Tracy and I couldn’t really do to each other what we wanted to do, although I'd bet the men watching would have liked to videotape that.

On August 31st I began to notice a change. I could pick up people talking when no one was around. It was strange, it seemed like they were talking to themselves, making rude comments about this girl they were looking at. Then I realized. I was reading the thoughts of the people watching ME. Ewwwww. Some dirty old man was wondering if I shaved my….GROSS!

I had enough of this. “Uhhhhhhh, hello to whoever is watching me. I think my powers, or whatever are starting to come in, because I can read every dirty thought you are having about me! And all I can say is…I’m sixteen years old, you pervs!

Five minutes later, Harold had come to the room. I heard him thinking before he got to the door. He knocked.

“Come in Harold. I said. I had on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra. I guess that was good enough for him. He looked at me and thought. This is wrong for a girl this young to look that good. I have daughters older than her. Don’t look Harold, Don’t look!

I thought his avoidance was cute. He wasn’t creepy, just old. I decided to let him off the hook. “Let me put something more on, I’m kind of chilly” Harold acted all cool, but his thoughts betrayed him. Thank God he sighed mentally.

While I put on a tee shirt, Harold briefed me “Betsy, we have a man coming from Homeland Security who specializes in new metas. His name is Special Agent King Faraday, and he handles contacts with most new metas.

That peaked my curiosity “Good. I’d love to meet him. I’m looking forward to doing what I can do to help. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be a good girl”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear” came a voice from behind me. I jumped and squeaked. I hadn’t heard him come in. “Special Agent King Faraday, Miss Braddock. Pleased to meet you”

“You too, sir” I replied. “Please call me Betsy”

Agent Faraday sat down “Okay, Betsy. Please, sit. Let’s talk for a bit. I know you’ve been briefed on me, and I know a little bit about you. So, you can read minds?”

I looked down, a little embarrassed. “Yes sir, but I believe there is more. I don’t know what it is yet, but my powers seem to be coming on gradually, and I seem to know how to control them as they come on”

Agent Faraday leaned forward in his chair “Interesting. Very interesting. So, are you afraid of me?”

I looked back down, embarrassed “Yes sir, a little”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid you will take me away from my mom and dad, and I’ll never see Tracy again” A tear trickled down my cheek.

Agent Faraday smiled “Can you read my thoughts, Betsy?”

I concentrated and his mind came into view. I sensed a man of honor, who loved his country. He wouldn’t hurt me unless I went rogue, whatever that meant.

I responded shyly “Yes sir, I can”

“Then you know as long as you follow the law, you have nothing to fear from me, Right?”

“Yes sir. I’m a little goofy with all the changes I’ve gone through the last few months, and I guess I feel a little vulnerable” I bit my lip, trying to keep from crying.

“Still dealing with the changes, aren’t you. The doctors said your hormone levels haven’t stabilized yet” he paused. “Betsy, you are one of the good ones. I can tell that right away.
I think you can go home now and adjust to your new self." he paused and leaned forward. "I understand you are quite the karate expert. Resume your training. Train your mind and body. Just keep us informed of any new abilities that manifest themselves. I know you want to help. Keep working, and we’ll be watching, Betsy”

“I will sir. Thank you”

Agent Faraday got up, excused himself and left. He would normally have gotten her paperwork expedited and given her a small stipend to get her new life going. That was already done by her parents. That was a good thing for his budget.

“Agent Morgan? Harold approached Agent Faraday. “Good job here. Betsy will be an asset in the future. She’s low risk. Minimal surveillance, monitor the email. Let the girl grow up a bit. She’s still a kid”

“Roger that sir, will do” replied Agent Morgan.

I went to bed right after Agent Faraday left. I was exhausted and felt like a ten ton weight had been taken off my shoulders. I could finally go home.

Mom and dad picked me up the next morning. I was never so happy to get out of a place in my life. I hadn’t been back to the house in months. Dad had me close my eyes before we walked in.

As I walked through the door, I could feel the thoughts of everyone there. I knew the house was packed for a surprise homecoming before I opened my eyes. I did my best to act surprised as the twenty or so people they invited yelled “Surprise!”

My parents had invited our closest friends, a few of my better friends from school and karate. My grandparents were all dead, so at least I wouldn’t have to explain myself to them. Everyone gathered around me to congratulate me on my homecoming. They had all been briefed on my change, and no one was unduly rude, with or without meaning to be.

Tommy Davis, probably the best friend I had since grade school stepped up to me and said. ‘Whoa, dude. Why didn’t you let me come see you in the hospital? I was worried sick!”

“I got all your letters and cards, Tommy. I just wasn’t ready for a lot of visitors there. The changes I went through were pretty radical”

He looked me up and down. “I guess so, dude” He shook his head and whistled. “How does it feel to be playing for the other team now, Brian?”

“It’s Betsy now, and I really don’t notice the difference. It just seems natural to me I guess. I can’t explain it, but I really don’t mind being who I am” I could see he was still checking me out. “I suppose I sound a little wacked, don’t I”
“Bri…I mean Betsy, there are worse things that could happen to you. Believe me”

“And stop looking at me like we used to look at the girls before all this happened. I am never going to be on your menu, Tommy”

That brought a laugh from Tommy. “C’mon, Betsy, I know that, but I gotta tell you. You are one smokin’ chick!”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, I guess”

Tracy held my arm and whispered in my ear. Get used to it, girlfriend. You are now officially eye candy” then she laughed out loud. “Welcome to my world!”

I greeted all the guests, including Sensei Ozawa. He invited me to come back to the dojo. Looking me up and down, he said, “You need to get back soon. I have to retrain you. Center of gravity is much different than it was! Strength is different too. You are going to have lots of fun relearning how to apply what you know”

“I hadn’t though about it, but you’re right, sensei. I won’t be able to do what I did before”

“Different, this is true. But I’ll bet you are twice as flexible as you were. This will be fun for you. I’ll see you next Monday, okay”

“I’ll be there!” I was glad he didn’t treat me any differently. I tried to read his mind, but I got nothing from him. Maybe I need more practice.

People were remarkably nice to me, and didn’t really make me feel too differently. They all accepted me for what I was. But these were our friends. What would school be like? Senior year was going to be fun. Hey, I might even try out for cheerleading.

That night, I was getting ready for bed. Mom and dad totally redid my room to be more appropriate for my new gender. I had a big closet, a cool new dresser and vanity, and all the makeup a girl could ever want. I had practiced nonstop since I was well enough to move my hands without shaking, and was getting really good at putting it on. I loved the way it made me look. I was pretty enough without it, I guess, but when I put it on right? Wow!

I discovered I liked sleeping in just panties and a t shirt. It was more comfortable than the nightgowns mom had wanted me to try. They always ended up around my boobs or higher, I was always cold and couldn't get comfortable. Baby dolls were no better, although I did have a nice silk chemise that I liked. How the times have changed. Four months ago, I didn’t know what a chemise was!

I turned the lights off and sat at my vanity. I looked in the mirror and concentrated on using my power. I focused on my hands since they had sparked in the hospital. At first, there was nothing. Then, a violet glow started to radiate from my hands. I focused harder, and the glow sharpened its focus, until the glow tapered out to a point about 6 inches from the end of my fingers. They almost reminded me of, I don’t know--knives or something. I looked in the mirror, and I saw something that made me gasp. A pair of what looked like butterfly wings radiated from around my eyes. I released my concentration, and the glow faded as did the wings. Now that was way weird, I thought.

I couldn’t just let this go. Concentrating again, I made the glow reappear. This was cool! What else could I do? I made the glow around my hands go away. Closing my eyes, I focused on Tracy. I became aware of her. A sense of her presence, if that’s the right word. I knew exactly where she was. She was watching television at home, thinking about me! Hee hee! She’s so cute! Thinking about me.

I projected my thoughts out further. I was picking up thoughts from further and further away. Some things I didn’t really want to know, other thoughts interesting. I could sense who the people were, but I didn’t know them. One at a time, thoughts from as far away as France. I sensed President Obama, working on a speech. He’s grateful to Booster Gold? Ohhhh, the girl who saved his life. I remember.

I picked up on the thoughts of several Metas. This was sooo cool! It was like listening to a scanner. How far could I reach? I concentrated as hard as I could. I was getting further and further away.

Then, I touched something I shouldn’t have. I found a mind, someone who knew I was there. I saw a grinning, hideous face looking at me. A name came to my mind–Amahl. A clawed hand reached toward me. The face, almost a skull began to speak in a deep, cold voice. “What are YOU doing here, child? This is MY REALM! I am the Shadow King and I do not suffer trespassers! LEAVE!"

As he reached for me, I screamed and suddenly I was back in my room, panting in fear. “Oh, god. What was that thing?" I said to no one. I was drenched in sweat and lying on the floor. How did I end up on the floor?

Looking at the clock, I found that three hours had passed. I needed to get some sleep. I changed my nightshirt and underwear and crawled to bed. I was exhausted from my mental exercises. In spite of the shock my confrontation with Shadow King had induced, sleep claimed me almost instantly.

To be continued