Liam knew where his life was going, or so he thought until an incident at football practice turns into his worst nightmare. And the fun is only beginning.

I want to thank Maggie Finson and all the other authors for creating the Whateley Universe. This story is Fan-fiction and may not conform to Canon rules or timelines. I am only playing in their sandbox. I also want to thank Connected for all the editing work put in to turn my scratchings into a readable story.

Please note that all of the categories checked do not apply to all chapters. My goal is to post a new chapter weekly as I have written several ahead with publication pending a final grammar check.

I appreciate all the encouraging comments and Kudos. I understand now in a way I never did before how important these are to the authors. It kind of like being paid, so thanks. Don't be afraid to tell me if there are things you think could be improved. I'm new to this and want to learn to be a better writer.

Mother's Child

Chapter 2

August 13th, 2008

Lee looked nervously out the living room window waiting for Coach Quail to arrive. He hoped that the coach would get there before his dad got home from the golf course. His dad had already been gone by the time Lee got up, as he was every Saturday morning. He had taken Lee golfing a couple of times, but his dad didn’t have the patience to be an effective instructor, so that had stopped almost as quickly as it had begun. Lee thought it was a shame really, because he kind of liked the game. Still, maybe given what was going on now, it was for the best. At least he hadn’t had to make any excuses to his dad when the coach had called.

Lee snorted softly, yesterday, his biggest worries were whether or not he could make the team, how to get his father’s approval, and how many zits he had. Now he was waiting to find out if he was a mutant. His chances of making the team were now nil to nothing and he had to worry about if he would have tell his father, (who wasn’t really his father), that he was a mutant.

He had never considered that he might be a mutant. Sure you heard about them, but he had never known or even met anyone who was a mutant. Most of what he knew was based on watching the MCO program, where most of the mutants shown were violent, deformed or both. On the one hand, he was horribly frightened about the possibility of being different, the greatest fear of any teen, and a mutant. On the other hand, he was also a little excited that he might be like some of the superheroes you occasionally heard about on the news. There weren’t any resident supers in Knoxville; however, Atlanta had the Guardians, whose exploits were covered in the local press. One thing he was sure of, he didn’t want to be a super villain.

Mom had been in the kitchen ever since she woke him to say that the coach had been able to get an appointment with the doctor today. When he came down, she had barely looked at him, and that really hurt.

He had eaten a bowl of cereal as she washed dishes. She made idle chatter about nothing important as he ate, but he could tell she was anxious too. That made Lee more antsy than if she had simply said she was frightened by all this. Not once did she look him in the eyes.

When he was finished eating, he rinsed and put his bowl in the sink and walked to the living room, where he had stood staring out the window ever since. He looked at his watch, 10:55. Coach should be here any minute. He wished his mother was going with him.

When the coach pulled up, Lee went to the kitchen, “Coach is here.” He didn’t know what he expected her to do, but she surprised him with a fierce hug.

“Be good for the coach,” she had whispered in his ear, “and know that I will always love you no matter what. You’re my boy!” She kissed his cheek and quickly turned back to the sink, but not before he saw a tear on her cheek. He was surprised to discover that there were tears on his own face. He wiped his face on the back of his hand and left without another glance back.

—————

“Scared, Lee?” the coach asked as he got in the car and fastened the seatbelt.

“Yeah, a little I guess.” he hesitated then said, “Actually, I’m terrified. I never thought I might be a mutant. It scares me stiff, and the testing is worrying me a little, too.”

“Don’t worry about that. The testing is easy — and almost painless,” Coach chuckled, grinning. Once the shock faded from Lee’s face and mind, he realized Coach Quail was trying to make a joke. Lee grinned back, feeling a little more at ease.

“Don’t worry about the results either. There’s no reason to worry, either you are or you aren’t, and worrying isn’t going to change that. Besides, chances are even if you are a mutant, nine times out of ten, the changes and powers are negligible and won’t really change your life.”

“Yeah, like I’ll have that kind of luck. With my luck, it will leave me with three heads, antennae and a tail —— or worse a girl!”

Coach Quail laughed and decided to change the subject. “What do you think about that new wide receiver they have Central? I hear he’s got good hands.”

“Oh, he’s got good hands alright. I went and watched one of their practices from under the bleachers last weekend, but their quarterback couldn’t make a pass in the ladies locker room, so I don’t know how much good that receiver is going to do them.” Lee replied. “Although we’ll have to watch the QB on the running plays. He’s fast! But overall, our varsity guys are going to wipe the floor with them,’’ he grinned enthusiastically, “and if they don’t find a better quarterback, our JV guys could probably beat them.”

They spent the rest of the trip talking about football and the team’s chances this year.

————-

“This is the doctor’s office?” Lee asked, nervous again. The building looked condemned. Half the windows were boarded up and rust streaked the stone facade from the rusting bolts holding up an old marquee that looked ready to collapse. Gang graffiti covered the boards over the windows.

It wasn’t a very good neighborhood. Not much off Laurel Avenue was in a very good neighborhood. You heard of drive-by shootings and gang warfare out here on the East end of town all the time. Lee nervously looked over his shoulder at a couple of tough looking teens wearing gang colors standing across the street.

“Well, I never actually said he was a doctor, just that he could help figure out if you were a mutant. He goes by the code name of Doc Widget and for all I know he may be a real doctor, but mostly what he does is create devises. I think he may have some other powers as well but mostly he’s a devisor.

“He suffers from a modest case of Deidrick’s Syndrome, but when he feels it coming on, he locks himself up in his lab in the basement. That’s why he lives here, but he’s licensed by the DPA to do mutant testing and issue Mutant Identification Cards, even though it gripes the MCO’s butt. The Department of Paranormal Affairs,” he said seeing the confusion on Lee’s face, “The DPA is a department of the US government and are a lot more respectful of mutant rights.”

“What’s Deidrick’s Syndrome?” Lee was getting more nervous about this all the time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see this Doc Widget.

“Diedrick's Syndrome is a condition where the use of a mutant power causes the brain to overproduce certain kinds of neurotransmitters, causing megalomania. The classic super villain raving about what a 'genius' he is and how his 'master plan' cannot fail as energy surges all around him; that’s a perfect example of a mutant with Diedrick's syndrome. From what I know it’s most common in high level devisors.” Coach Quail remarked calmly as they got out and triggered the locks. “Don’t worry! Barry hasn’t had an episode in months and he always seems to know when it’s coming well in advance.”

Coach pushed the buzzer beside the door and leaned forward and said softly “It’s Rumor and a friend.”

Lee didn’t think he was supposed to hear that.

The door beeped and the lock clattered. Coach pulled the door open and ushered Lee inside. It was hot and still in what he now realized was an old movie theater. The air was heavy with decay and mold, and there was one dim light trying to beat back the darkness.

Coach went to an elevator that looked old enough to have been installed by Otis himself, but when he pushed the button the doors slid smoothly and quietly open. Once inside, the doors closed as Coach pushed the buttons for the top floor and basement at the same time. Then, while holding them in, he hit the door open button. The elevator lit up brightly and started down. The elevator ride was smooth but it seemed to Lee to continue interminably.

Lee looked at the controls which showed only two sub-basements. “Slow elevator, huh.”

The coach chuckled. “Not exactly,” as the elevator jarred to a halt. “We’re just over four thousand feet under the street level. Doc Widget used to be a little paranoid before he learned to control his Deidrick’s.”

The elevator doors slid open to show a brightly lit and freshly painted hallway. Cameras rotated to follow them as they walked down the hall to the double doors at the end. The heavy doors swung open automatically just like the ones at Target, but they were solid steel as thick as the door on a bank vault. They walked into a room nearly as big as an aircraft hanger with a vaulted ceiling that must have been a hundred feet above them. Lee’s jaw hung open as he looked around the brilliantly lit space full of all kinds of strange machines, the purposes of which Lee couldn’t even begin to guess. His head tried swiveled owlishly as he tried to take it all in. The coach stopped and Lee, not paying attention, ran into his back.

Lee stepped around to the coach’s side, and was stunned at the man standing before them with a grin on his face. Lee wasn’t sure what he expected, but the short balding middle-aged man with coke bottle glasses, a pot belly, wearing a stained and torn lab coat, wasn’t it. Although oddly enough the strange metal net on his scalp helped a little.

Coach was shaking his hand, with a grin on his face. “How’s it going, Barry?”

“Fine, Fred, fine. Haven’t had an episode in almost a year. This neuro-depressor devise seems to interrupt the episodes before they even get started, and business has been good.” He responded jovially, then looked at Lee and asked, “I’m guessing you’re Lee, right?”

“Uhh, yeah.” Lee timidly responded. “Hi!”

“Come on in, boy, I won’t bite or anything else,” holding out his hand, Lee slowly reached out and shook his hand. He had a dry, firm grip. Lee relaxed a little; maybe this guy wasn’t so bad.

————

Lee was putting his pants and shirt back on after removing the skin-tight body suit full of sensors. Over the last three hours he had been in and out of six different machines, some of which looked like something from Star Trek or Battlestar Galactica. He had lifted weights on a machine that didn’t have any visible weights. He had ran an obstacle course that included balancing on round beams that turned beneath his feet. He finally fell off when the bar he was on began rotating in two different dimensions simultaneously.

He had run on a treadmill until he thought his heart was going to burst, and then he had been put in a room full of tennis ball servers all aimed at him. At first when they started throwing two at a time, he had got clobbered, then he realized that if he relaxed, closed his eyes and just went with the flow, he had no trouble dodging, at least until they started throwing 6 at a time. He had been dodging the balls so well that it seemed like he knew where the balls were going to go before they were launched.

In another test he was put in a room with several tables covered in piles of mechanical and electrical parts. He was given a few simple tools, but he was given no instructions. Doc told him to do whatever seemed right to him with the parts. He could see a pattern in at least some of the piles of parts. His hands seemed to almost itch until he, almost randomly, began putting the various parts together. It felt good, like it was only right that certain things be together.

The completed objects made gadgets that all operated, even if he wasn’t sure that what he built was what was intended to be made from the parts.

Some of the piles he could see no pattern in, and after studying them for a few minutes, he instead began combining parts from three different piles. An hour later, he had produced a small flying saucer about two feet across that floated around the room with no visible thrusters or fans. He had intentionally made it look like your typical flying saucer. When finished, it seemed to respond to his thoughts for guidance. He also knew that it had several compartments in it that seemed larger on the inside than the whole craft was. He didn’t really understand how that worked or how he had known how to make them. In the course of making the saucer, he had used some of the parts to make various tools he needed. When he was finished he put the tools in one of the compartments. Coach and Doc just looked at him and smiled. When he followed them to the next test, the little ship floated behind them. Only Coach noticed the purple rabbit’s head that popped up into the clear dome briefly flicking its ear toward him, before ducking back down.

When he entered the other room, Coach and Doc Widget were looking over sheets and sheets of data that the Doc had collected during the tests. Coach had looked at him a little strangely as he entered, while Doc Widget just continued muttering to himself as he studied the results. Finally, he put them down and absently pushed his glasses back up his nose, before staring at Lee for a moment, like he couldn’t believe what he saw. The two men were making Lee increasingly nervous.

“Well, what’s the verdict?” Lee quipped.

Coach Quail opened his mouth but nothing came out for a second. By this time Lee was really getting skittish. Then finally, Coach found his voice, “Uhh, well, you are definitely a mutant.” Then he abruptly closed his mouth, and turned to Doc Widget with a puzzled stare.

Doc Widget sighed. “Lee, the tests aren’t completely conclusive because you are just beginning to manifest, and that means everything is still a little nebulous as far as your powers go.”

“Uhh, but a few things are clear.” He stopped and stared back at the sheet of paper for a minute. “For one thing, you definitely have a full set of active meta-genes. Now, by itself, that doesn’t mean much as at least one sixth of the population has the genes. No one really knows what makes the genes manifest and create a mutant, but yours are definitely active and creating proteins and enzymes that are a sure indication that you are manifesting.” He hesitated and then said, “You also have an extra pair of chromosomes the likes of which I’ve never seen before. They are a little like what you see with the Sidhe,” seeing what he must have presumed was a look of bewilderment, he added, “Elves or fairies, but not exactly like theirs either.”

The coach broke in. “The good news is that it appears that you may develop a fairly significant ability to do magic, as well as some gadgeteering and possibly devisor abilities. How much of each we really can’t tell yet, but you used magic at least three times during your testing. That little spaceship you built has at least two magical pocket universes built into it. That is something you shouldn’t be able to do without a lot of training and practice. We also think it is powered by magic. To be able to use magic like that, instinctively, implies that you are at least a level 3 or 4 magic user, maybe higher. It could partially be some devisor capabilities, but Doc doesn’t think so. He can usually detect a devise even when it’s not his.

“You are also either at least a level 2 energizer, hence your burst of speed yesterday, or a level 2 or 3 warper which can produce similar effects. Doc isn’t sure whether your magic powers your energizer/warper potential or vice versa, probably the former.” He stopped and stared up. “I know it sounds like we don’t know what we are talking about but really it’s just because your powers are only beginning to manifest.”

That didn’t sound all that bad, but Lee knew that wasn’t all, once he got by the fact that he was a mutant.

Coach continued, “Lee, you are definitely going to be some level of Exemplar, and since you appear to have a fairly strong Body Image Template or BIT emerging, you are probably a fairly high level exemplar.” Seeing the confusion in Lee’s face, he explained, “You can think of a BIT as a blueprint your body will use to shape your mutation. Doc thinks that you are probably going to be at least an Exemplar 3 or 4. Do you know what that means?”

“Yeah, I think. I mean I watch ‘Tales of the MCO’ and know what they say about it, which isn’t often very good, but I have also read a little about mutants. It basically means I’m not going to really be human, am I.”

“Not in the conventional physical definition,” Doc interjected, “but your true humanity is up to you. If you want to keep your humanity, all you have to do is decide to do so.”

The coach looked like he was trying to tell a man he was dying. “Ignore what the MCO says. They have their own agenda and it’s usually not good for whatever mutant they encounter. What being a high level exemplar means is you will probably be quite strong and almost certainly very good looking - as in model good looking. You are already stronger and faster than most grown men. You lifted 650 pounds during testing and you’re just starting to manifest. That’s 400 pounds more than you lifted in practice last week.

“You also are getting some kind of mental boost. You are smarter than you were, too, at least according to your registered IQ. The tests today show your IQ went up by at least 50 points. You have an almost perfect memory. Your reflexes are quicker, and I suspect you will get a boost to your other senses, hearing, smell and sight, especially. Your sense of balance is better than a cat’s, and you seem to have at least short term precognition or danger sense, once you decided to trust it. Doc seems to think you may also be a projective empath, but the test results were a little confusing. It may be the result of an aura or glamour that you manifest, perhaps unconsciously. Finally, as a fairly high level exemplar you will probably be a regenerator of some level, probably a 2 or 3, maybe more.”

Again, a little scary but not so bad. Lee sure they were holding something back.

“Okay, just give me the bad news. Am I going to develop GSD or something?”

Coach glanced at Doc Widget before replying, who nodded back to the Coach. “No, nothing like that, although it’s still so early in your manifestation that we can’t be absolutely sure of anything. However, there are quite a few inconsistencies in our results that are a little unusual. Doc’s machines can usually pin the results down better than they have today, therefore, Doc would like you to come back in 2 months and run through the tests again.”

“Again? But why can’t you find out now. I’ll do the tests over.”

“Lee, it won’t help.” Doc explained. “ Some mutants manifest quickly, for a variety of reasons, but yours is following a more classic pattern of slow changes. Your BIT determines how you will change both physically and mentally. Most strong BITs change the mutant slowly so as to give you and your body more time to get used to the changes. It’s less likely to cause problems that way. But, this is important! You must try to use any developing powers as little as possible, and only under supervision. This is important for three reasons. 1) It greatly reduces the risk of burnout. Trust me, you don’t want to go through that even if it didn’t kill you, which it might. 2) The more you use any powers you get, the faster you are likely to change and that could be mentally as well as physically traumatic. Finally, 3) you are not trained to use your powers yet, and you could easily hurt someone else or even yourself. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“No, but how will I learn to not to use them. I didn’t mean to use them yesterday. It just kind of happened!” Lee was getting really worried about all these potential problems.

“Well, about that,” Coach broke in, “I maybe can help you with your empathy. Your gadgeteer powers should resolve themselves without too much problem. If you do have a problem with it let me know, and Doc here can help you, since he is also a low level gadgeteer.

“Probably the most difficult for you to learn to control and the most important is your magic. You seem to be using it instinctively, which shouldn’t happen. I only have heard of one or two mutants who didn’t have to be trained before they could do the simplest things, and you are doing some pretty advanced magic there. Luckily, I know a woman here in town that is a mid-level magic user. I’d like to talk to your parents about you going to see her two or three times a week until you get a better handle on controlling the use of your powers.”

“But won’t that make me change faster?” Lee’s nervousness was about to get the better of him.

“Well, yes, a little, but she will show you how to control your magic so that you can minimize your use of it. It’s better to use it a little and prevent an accidental big use that might throw you into burnout or hurt someone.” the Coach still looked nervous.

“What are you still not telling me?”, Lee asked with a bit of insistence. He noticed a quick glance between Coach and Doc.

“It’s nothing. At least nothing important now. When you come back and I test you again, I will know much more, and I promise I will tell you everything I know then. Now I would be guessing and I don’t want to tell you something that might well prove to be nonsense.” Doc’s voice was firm and Lee realized he wasn’t going to get any more answers now, no matter how he asked.

Maybe Coach would tell him after they left, but Lee kinda doubted it. He knew there was something that they at least suspected but weren’t telling him, and he didn’t like it now and was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it when they finally got around to telling him.

The Doc had charged them only a minimal fee and had told him to come back in two months and they would nail down his powers better. He asked Lee, if he had picked a codename. Lee just looked at him dumbly. “Why do I need a codename?”

“For your MID, that way your name doesn’t appear on any of the testing results or other documents. It’s better that way, believe me.”

Lee thought for a moment. “Can I change it later?” He looked at the Doc,
who answered yes, but sooner was better than later. Lee gave them a sardonic look knowing they were holding something big back from him, and said. “I’ll use Mushroom, for now.” Seeing the question on Doc’s face, Lee said sarcastically, “You know mushrooms. You keep them in the dark and feed them on crap.”

Coach had the decency to look chagrined. Doc just turned back to his computer and typed for a minute, then a printer whirred and a card already laminated spat out a minute later.

He handed Lee his temporary MID.

“Cold iron?” Lee asked quizzically, seeing the entry for allergies.

“An allergy to cold iron usually goes with the genetic changes similar to what you seem to be getting. Hold on.” Doc rummaged through a pile of what looked like junk for a moment before tossing a railroad spike in Lee’s direction. “Here, catch.”

Lee could feel it burning before it even touched him, and his muscles and reflexes kicked into overdrive allowing him to dodge it completely. “What the frell?” he said as the metal spike clattered on the concrete floor.

“Wow,” Doc said quietly. “I’m sorry, Lee,” he said looking at Lee’s reddened hand that had never actually touched the piece of iron but had only come close. It was blistered.

“I’ve never seen a reaction that violent before.” Doc said as they watched the skin begin to heal before their eyes. “I guess that answered two questions. A) you do indeed have a serious allergy to cold iron and B) you are definitely a higher level regenerator than I thought. I should add it to your MID, but we will do that next time you are here. I’ll make sure to register your card with the DPA with a note that it will be updated, pending further testing.

“I’ve almost certainly understated your powers, maybe by a lot, but if you have a run in with the MCO or even the Department of Paranormal Affairs, it’s better that they underestimate your potential than decide you are a danger. I can’t ignore those that are going to be pretty clear like your exemplar status, but the others that we can’t confirm yet - well, who knows. We’ll cross that bridge later.”

————————

The trip home was tense to say the least.

He and Coach left. They talked a little on the way home about his powers. The Coach told him he would have to be very careful about his strength or he could hurt someone very badly, which would not only make him feel bad, but would bring the MCO down on him. He instructed Lee on how to hide his other powers too.

He could see Lee was really scared, but was manfully trying to deal with it. His respect for this kid was growing by leaps and bounds. There were many grown men who couldn’t handle less problems than Lee had.

“There’s still something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” Lee asked flatly staring at his coach.

“Yes, there is, but it may not be what we think it is, and I think you have enough to think about right now without worrying over a ‘maybe’, don’t you?”

“I guess, but I still don’t like not knowing.” Lee said a little sullenly.

The coach could see the worry on Lee’s face. He knew this was going to be hard on the Lee, not only from his own experiences and seeing what happened to his sister, but from stories he knew about other mutants.

It had been hard on him and he could, and had, passed for baseline, all these years. There had always been the worry that one day he, or one of the few who knew about him, would slip. He was putting his neck on the line just helping Lee. If the school board ever found out, he would almost certainly never teach again.

He watched Lee trying to figure out how he was going to face his problems. He could feel the emotions rolling off Lee in waves - fear, uncertainty, despair, worry, but through it all was an undercurrent of hope and excitement. Right then the coach realized he had to do whatever was required to help Lee get through this, even if it cost his job. The spirit of his sister that lived in his heart demanded it.

“Let’s get you home. If you want, I’ll even go in with you to tell your family.” He had been planning to anyway, but he also wanted to give Lee a morale boost.

Lee gulped. “I think I’d like that.”