Scald-Crow 1: The Rocky Road To Whateley A Whateley Academy Tale by: ShadowedSin

High School is a living hell for Padraig, and his life is only made worse by bullying.
One night a powerful spirit offers him a deal, and his life is changed forever.
In a world where Superheroes and Villains are the norm, and mutants are hated by most of the populace
life get's complicated fast for our young hero.

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Chapter 6 - The Road Gets Rockier

Morning, October 24th, 2007 - Ferndale Police Department

I thought I would never want a nice couch to sleep on or even just a shitty cot in the middle of a cabin back at summer camp. If one day I would be arrested for a crime I didn't commit I would tell my younger self to speak up more about my pain. About denying who I was and more about the bullying I was being put through. Perhaps if I said something my parents could have pulled me out of that hellhole. I held onto my knees as I awoke in a sweat and pulled them up to my chest. Sleep had barely been my friend as the changes continued. First, it was my collar bone, and then my ribs. Like molten magma, I swore I heard each of my bones creak.

My skull had been the worst as I felt one of the worst headaches I'd ever felt. Through it all I cried out for water and some food, nothing came. There were blisters from where those bastards zip-tied me still. They forced me into the cell and left me without anything to do. All I could hear was an argument from one of the deputies standing duty about some sort of fuss. How was I not in some scary fictional black site? As I stared at the blank cement wall of my cell I felt the increased weight of my hair and I growled at how long it was getting. Holding out a hand I noted how pale my skin was, and the number of freckles now scattered over my skin.

The cell was one of many which were made up of solid concrete walls fitted with steel bars. An electronic door for the holding cell was the only way out and as I sat on the bench I stared out. The walls were made of whitewashed brick walls. It was the same material they made my stupid high school out of and the same damn walls in middle school. Ferndale was obsessed with whitewash and it always made me feel like I was in an old-timey sanitarium. The only difference was sanitariums had beds, and wouldn't make me use the bathroom in public. What I learned from my few times using the simple toilet in the cell was I was pretty much a girl now.

A guard informed me that morning that the wait for processing was going to be over soon. Once they were ready to extradite me to the regional MCO offices in Seattle I'd be moving fast. This left me bereft of any hope I could muster. Fidgeting I stood as a guard appeared in full police blues and opened the door. He furrowed his brow at me, and I could tell the man was unsure how to proceed. All the police procedurals I grew up with usually placed the uniforms as faceless extras just saying a few lines. This man was the one who was going to hand me off to Wilks and his partner. They had a Warrant, and they already had me in holding.

Ferndale was happy to see a mutant menace silenced.

"Alright, this way please," he said and he indicated for me to follow. At first, I was unsure, and when he didn't ask me to present my hands for another zip tie I eased up a little. I held aloft my hands to show I wasn't a threat and he gestured for me to follow him. As I did, I noted how empty the holding cells were this morning. Whatever was happening, I was being kept in a place where I wasn't likely to be seen. Past another electronically locked door and I found myself in the station's bullpen. Several desks stood in front of me lined up so the local officers could do their work. Not far away was a small office where I guessed the chief was.

I just stood there as I saw agents Wilks and Barber waiting by the door of the office. Both were once again immaculately dressed in black suits straight out of Men In Black. Barber even had those weird little aviator glasses on his head this time, and both of their faces were set in impatient scowls. I heard a lot of yelling coming from the doorway as the uniform by me nudged me to move forward. I followed suit and walked past a series of cops all working at their terminals while filling out paperwork. Several gave me obvious looks of disgust, another gave me a small nod before I walked passed her in confusion. Wait, I thought all of Ferndale was against me?

Well, I mean not all of it. The rush of exaggeration was only made more real as the door opened and I once again saw Miss Fairchild. The woman was far from smiling now, and as I stared at her I could feel contempt flowing off of her. The woman's red-painted lips were smiling, none of her white teeth were showing through. Now we just had to wait for the Chief of Police to let us into his office, and decide if my extradition would continue onward. I had no idea if the man was a poignant racist like the two MCO Agents or a hidden one like Miss Fairchild. All I could hope for was just one chance.

Was it possible that not everyone in this dumb little town was an utter shit?

Please, Goddess, let it be damn true. I needed the respite, even if it was just for a little while.

Noon, October 24th, 2007 - Ferndale Police Department

Sophia hated getting up early on Saturdays and hated it, even more, to give up her weekend. Today wasn't any different, and as she worked her way to put on her best clothes for the day she remembered what her mother said when she awoke her daughter.

"Your Grandpa wants you to go with him to the Ferndale Police station," Corrine Jameson replied as she zipped into her daughter's room in a blink of an eye. As an energizer, Corinne was usually constantly in motion. As a member of the Alliance, she was usually the first on the scene and the first to give chase. Living with a speedster was not easy for Sophia, and being the daughter of one was far worse. It wasn't any easier since her parents divorced and Corinne changed their names. Really though, Sophia didn't mind being called Jameson-Langley, but her mom said it was too long. Whatever, after being woken up she rushed to get ready

She hated being up on Saturdays, but today was different; today was the day she would try to save another's life. Instead of her usual casual shirt and jeans, she grabbed a nice sweater dress to up the formality of her look. Makeup was easy today as she wanted to be minimalistic and to appear as conservative as possible. Her grandpa Gerald was down in the kitchen quickly preparing omelets for that morning. As she ate all she could think about was what was her grandfather going to do to save a fellow mutant.

Ferndale's School Board met in an emergency meeting the night before and finalized their decision to not only expel one Padraig O'Callaghan, but to add new so-called "no tolerance rules" aimed at mutants on campus. Right before falling asleep her grandfather gave her a copy of the minutes of the meeting which a friend of his on the board passed along. Scanning through it she noticed how thinly veiled racism of the rules were. What in particular caught her attention was one singular rule.

Students With Powers Who Use Any On School Campus Are To Be Suspended With Notice.

Hey, at least they'll suspend us and give us notice. I'd rather know I was suspended than being escorted off campus like a common idiot. Seriously, how are they getting away with this?!

The rate of actual mutants manifesting in the Ferndale School District was just slightly below the national average. Most were usually quietly removed from campus and shuttled to the facility just out of town set aside for remedial students and those just out of juvenile hall. Really, the school seemed to be bent on getting as many of the non-baselines out of its population as possible. Sophia herself was sure most if not all the teachers were happy to see her leave their class every day. Well, not all of them. Most in the music department didn't seem to care, and at least one of the female Physical Educators actually did try to keep the kids from teaming up on her during most of the team games.

If she hadn't been a cheerleader she was sure her classmates wouldn't have even noticed her.

But that all paled in comparison to what Padraig was facing.

Sophia finished her breakfast and was right behind her grandfather as he headed out the door.

"Dad I'll see you there, I'm going to head over to the Alliance Headquarters in Bellingham." Her mother was busily finishing up preparation before heading out to work. Corinne Jameson wore a grey skirt and blazer over a white blouse. Sophia admitted her mother had taste, and the office attire suited her.

"Okay sweetheart, send you a text if things go south," Gerald replied just as his daughter walked out the door. The sound of a car starting signaled her exit. After putting away the dishes from breakfast her grandfather grabbed his keys and ushered her out the door. The drive to Ferndale would only require a total of fifteen minutes, but it passed in total silence. Sophia eyed the briefcase sitting in the back seat of her grandpa's sedan. The young woman knew grandpa kept several documents on him at all times since he was a lawyer.

Is he going to free Padraig? The girl wondered as she started to think about the recent plans her grandfather was working on. Both mom and he spoke often about some kind of big change in the works. Her cousins had even said something about missing her when she moved. I'm not moving! Grandpa's house is huge and he's shown no interest in leaving his job on the Reservation! As she thought about it the more she wondered if it had something to do with her mom's divorce, and where her dad was. I know he's living somewhere off the reservation and working for the government. But, he's barely spoken to me in two years. Not since he and mom separated.

Whereas her mom's life as Swiftwing was known to her - her father's, on the other hand, was a near-complete unknown. He worked for the Games Commission with her grandfather's friend Rodrick. He always seemed busy with something, and after watching her parents argue for years as she grew up she figured it was the reason mom left him.

The thoughts of her father were pushed aside as soon as grandfather Gerald parked the car outside the police station. Like much of Ferndale, it was a squat little building that revealed a stark difference. To Sophia, Ferndale was a city that lived a dream of what it viewed itself to be: a large modern town - a true city. In reality, it was a small backwater town, made up of a patchwork of suburbs. A town just a step above small highway shopping district. The small squat building she saw in the police station really did emphasize just how the city really lacked that modern feeling other towns around it really had.

"You ready?" grandpa asked her and all Sophia did was give a gentle nod. Inside was a person she didn't know personally, but both of them shared a common bond. Both were social outcasts, and both had a keen dislike for the shitty little town they went to school in.

The entry hall to the police station really showed how the department was just an up jumped County Sheriff's office without the countywide level of jurisdiction. A small receptionist port fitted in the wall covered by a layer of clear glass. Gerald walked ahead of her as she came in her eyes staring mostly at her gizmatic smartphone. Busily texting with her cousins was one of the few ways she was attempting to keep a sense of serenity in the face of her classmate’s predicament. If they could do it to Padraig they could do it to her just as easily if not more so.

The uniform at the reception desk paged them in through the locked door leading the way further into the station. She walked directly behind her grandfather and earned a few odd looks from the uniforms and detectives present. She noticed the pantsuited form of Principle Fairchild as she came to stand beside her grandfather. Two men dressed in black suits were standing at rest beside the Principle as were who she guessed was Padraig's parents.

Sophia smiled at the redhead as the green-eyed mutant was sitting in a chair placed beside the door to the Chief's office. A tense moment of waiting began as a creaking inside the office itself. A few awkward minutes passed, and Sophia continued to text her cousin Lacey. The young woman was spending her early afternoon getting ready for a shopping trip to the Bellis Fair Mall and was listing off the various new clothes she wanted to buy for an upcoming school event. Probably a dance or something Sophia would have loved to go to before she became a social pariah.

Padraig was listlessly sitting in the chair without a single sound coming from the redhead. Sophia wanted to say something and slowly padded around her grandfather's back, drawing closer to the mutant who she easily figured was becoming a woman. I know a little bit about how things work, but I never met anyone who just turned into a girl. As soon as she was within whispering distance she cleared her throat to get the young mutant's attention. Even as the two were out of school for the day because of "special circumstance" she still could go back.

They had expelled the redhead.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," the redhead replied in a weird lilting accent.

"So...what should I call you?" Sophia decided to ask. One of her cousins down south on her mom's side was Two-Spirits so she had some idea of what she was seeing in the redhead.

"Grainne," she said the words slowly, "I always hated my dead name."

"Dead name?" Sophia asked curiously.

"Yeah... a term I picked up off some LGBT forums; it's the name I had before I became who I really am."

Sophia canted her head to the right to regard the finality of Grainne's words. She leaned forward and smiled at the redheaded girl and gained one in response. Whatever had occurred to Grainne, the girl looked like she was straight out of a fairytale. Her hair was bright red, and a smattering of freckles covered her face. If she kept up that weird lilting to her speech Sophia would guess she was from Ireland itself.

"So," she stressed the word as she found herself unsure how to continue their small talk. Truly, she wasn't the best at it and preferred gossip or an actual subject for conversation. The young native girl rolled on the balls of her feet as she fidgeted with something to say.

Just as she was about to finally figure it out, the door to the Chief's office opened.

Twelve Forty-Five PM, October 24th, 2007 - Ferndale Police Station

I took a deep breath as I waited for the plunge to begin. The door to the Chief's office opened and as it did I could be the stereotypical opaque pane of the door itself had the name "Chief Victor Larson", and I craned my head to watch as a man stepped from the door. The man who appeared wore a suit which seemed to be the prevailing formal dress for today, and I could see where he dyed his hair to keep the grey "under control". His jaw was a soft round chin, and his nose was a bit pronounced as he had deep wrinkles under each cheekbone.

I wasn't sure about the man; he seemed to be too close to Wilks in his make. His suit was grey or some kind of off-color brown which to me said he grabbed it at a closeout sale at the Men's Warehouse. Nope, this guy, I didn't like him from one look, and as he ushered everyone into the room I found myself surrounded. Once again in a chair right before a cluttered wooden desk, my supporters ringed the wall to my right and my mom stood right behind me. To my direct left was Miss Fairchild, a woman I wish would just get punted from my life.

"So, Agent Wilks, your warrant seems in order, why is Miss O'Callaghan still here?" the Chief asked impatiently breaking the already increasingly tense silence of the day. I squinted at him and tilted my head in confusion. The man was using the correct gender for me, and yet seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Miss Fairchild. This was...unsettling to say the least.

"-MISTER- O'Callaghan is to be transferred to our regional office in Seattle soon once some red tape is cleared up down south," Agent Wilks huffed in response.

I gaped for a moment and gripped the hand rest just enough to cause the wood to creak under the stress.

"Young lady if you break that chair I will see you personally pay for it," the Chief snapped at me upon hearing the sound.

"Yes - yes sir!" I squeaked.

"I'm surprised she hasn't tried to run, she's strong enough to throw a full-grown football player across fifteen feet," Agent Johnson muttered at Wilks’ side.

"THEY ATTACKED ME I WAS DEFENDING MYSELF!" I barked at the man as my anger rose further. My mom placed her hand on my shoulder and I quickly inhaled to calm myself. It barely worked.

"You will not raise your voice in my office young lady," the Chief held firm and didn't raise his voice as I had. "And you! Agent, I expect you to keep the commentary to yourself -unless- I ask you a question."

My eyes widened as I looked to Agent Johnson and me smiled slightly at his admonished expression. But, this still left me wanting to hear the answer as to why I really was here. I mean, did Gerald get his foot in the door and was he bringing a means to get me back to my family. Squaring my shoulders I crossed my arms and brought my legs up to my chest as I breathed slowly to calm the fear growing in place of my anger.

Finally, I relented and gave a nod and mumbled, "I'm sorry sir."

I noticed not a single word from Agent Johnson as Wilks appeared ready to proceed with my extradition down south. In his hands were the same warrant he'd flashed at the school last night, and I could see him firmly ready to cuff me again as his free hand was fidgeting.

So that was it, right? I didn't notice any movement by neither my parents nor Gerald. All three of them remained silent as I returned my gaze to Miss Fairchild who had that stupid smug smile on her lips. But whenever did she not have that smug grin? I think she injected botox into her cheeks to keep it in place. A rustling of papers broke the air of silence. Gerald took a moment and handed a series of papers toward the Chief of Police and then a signed order to Miss Fairchild. The man licked his lips and waited as the two began to skim through the contents of each document.

"You can't be serious," Miss Fairchild said.

"Oh, but Principle Fairchild, I am," he said, "I was very happy to speak with Mr. Olmstadt after you and he himself has noted a history of bullying on your campus."

"Every school has bullying problems, what does this have to do with anything?" she asked in response.

"What matters is both Mister Olmstadt and my own granddaughter noted they saw the four boys attacking a small girl," he continued before turning to the Chief of Police.

"If these records are correct, and I've seen a few of these myself in the past year," he said as he dropped two files showing the names of Brad Finkbonner and one of his cohorts.

"Your star players have drug problems," Gerald started to Miss Fairchild, "And at least three complaints about sexual harassment. None of which has resulted in charges."

"This is most definitely the lax rules of my predecessor," Miss Fairchild nodded, "I'll open an investigation this next week and see to it that we put in place better rules to protect our students.

"I'm just getting started," Gerald removed even more documentation and I chuckled as I could see a small bead of sweat appearing on Fairchild's formerly smug face. So this was how adults played hardball? Oh, goddess, this was making me feel a lot better about my future.

"You can't be serious!" Fairchild exclaimed as she read the last document handed to her, "You can't possibly pull every single Lummi student and funding from the BIA in a single day!"

There was a noticeably angry scowl now on both Wilks and Johnsons faces. Their precious little warrant was looking more and more defused by the moment. I uncurled my body and sat up straight as newfound confidence surged into my being. This was my chance, and I could see an argument forming and a knife twisting to get me out of trouble. But, I did wonder, why did this man want to help me so much?

"You should know by now Chief when I present an argument I never do it without corroborating evidence to back it up," he said seriously.

"How did you get the Tribal Council to back this move, Gerald?" Chief Larson inquired.

"I called them this morning and we held an impromptu meeting to vote in response to newfound racist policies by the Ferndale School Board," he said with a smirk.

"The School Board added that new rule about the usage of mutant powers," he added.

"It was completely necessary." Miss Fairchild was now being reduced to what my friends and I called a "Karen". An angry soccer mom who found a way to complain to the manager about a perceived slight.

"I don't dispute it," Gerald chuckled as he continued his argument, "But as you can see from the files here Chief the School Board hasn't shown any interest accommodating mutants on campus. Most if not all are left to be bullied and or bussed to the remedial school on the outskirts of town."

The Chief of Police pressed his hand to his forehead and inhaled deeply. It was obvious he was thinking of something, and for a moment he thought about it before saying to an intercom on his phone, "Sergeant is the County Prosecutor here?"

"Yes sir," came the reply over the speaker. A few moments later another suited man entered. This man was much calmer and he shook both Gerald's and the Chief's hand. For the next five minutes, the three men leaned over the desk as a lengthy discussion continued. I could see they were busily hashing something out. Miss Fairchild joined in and I could see the anger present in her face as her jaw twisted into a grimace. I glanced over my shoulder to look at Sophia and I let my thoughts wander for a moment.

"Fortune favors us this day." Morgan's voice caught my attention as I felt her presence in the back of my mind. "We must ride the waves of fate carefully my heart. If we do not, we will be consumed."

"Thanks, Morgan." I thought internally doing my best to not show any of my little conversations. I'm just trying to remain calm, and you have to drop that little number on me.

"I won't coddle you little Rose, you have so much potential, and you must gain the discipline to use it."

"I'm sorry Agent Wilks, but the charges for Miss O'Callaghan are going to be dropped," said a voice from the desk. I glanced up and shared a look with Sophia as I watched Wilks' face turn a vivid red.

"There's no way you can do such a thing!" the Agent balked at the pronouncement. Miss Fairchild looked like she'd just eaten a fly as she glowered at me.

"In fact, I can," the prosecutor said, "and tomorrow we'll be speaking to a judge about the issue in the county courthouse. You are free to attend."

"Mister and Missus O'Callaghan, we are releasing your child to you under your care, I don't believe I need to make it clear that we ask you to remain in the county and to bring her to the courthouse tomorrow morning?" the prosecutor said swiftly.

I gave a fast eager nod. Ah hell yeah I was going to be there! These adults just let me go and there was no way I was going to screw up my one chance to clear my name! Rising to my feet I was close to babbling out a thank you as Gerald turned to face my father. The County Prosecutor shook everyone's hand and stepped around me before taking my own and giving it a firm handshake. Something about the man seemed familiar as I turned and watched him slowly walk out the door. This left my family, Gerald, and Sophia along with Miss Fairchild. Both Wilks and Johnson were not looking happy at all.

"You strong-armed your way into this Jameson," Fairchild hissed venom at the old man. Gerald Jameson never lost a step as he guffawed loudly at the woman.

"I do what I needed to do when you did nothing but protect your beloved football team and cast your own charges to the wayside for a personal racist agenda," he cocked an eyebrow as he brushed past her. My parents gestured for me to follow and I soon found myself outside the office. A burden lifted from my shoulders and I turned to sob into my mother's embrace. I needed to let it all out as the fear, the rage and much more finally seized me.

"You're lucky Mister O'Callaghan," Miss Fairchild said turning her attention to me. I was busily still choking out a sob into my mother's arms when I heard her snide comment.

"I'm going to ask you one time, to never speak to my daughter again," my mother said very firmly.

"Why is that?" she asked carefully.

"Ah yes, Miss Fairchild one more thing," Gerald said as my father walked beside him.

"What is that Mister Jameson," she asked.

"We'll be seeing you in court soon, I'm preparing a class action suit against your school and you personally." The man said as he clapped my father's back before putting his briefcase back in order.

"You can't be serious!" she asked.

"Oh, we are," my father said as he adjusted his glasses, "you knowingly let four boys sexually assault my daughter. You are lucky I'm not pressing charges. We'll be calling you soon if Gerald thinks it's a good idea to settle."

My parents ushered me past the woman as I could barely contain my glee at her gaping fishlike expression.