I’d been down this path before. In my dreams, usually in my nightmares. So when it hit, recognition flared, but it didn’t stop so it was a nightmare but not the right kind.

When we’d walked in, I’d been chatting with Felix about the scoring and options from the session today. I just didn’t understand how Felix could belabor the point. I understood what he was advocating but I knew it was wrong too. I just needed to stop and I did when I saw Mick standing there.

Everyone crowded in and I saw Allison standing deeper in the kitchen but she was in her uniform so I didn’t go over to say hi as it would seem to be crossing the lines of Affinity and Allison. She stared at the floor and didn’t seem to recognize we had entered the room. A distant dread filled me, I mean I had only texted her this morning one time, and I glanced at my phone.

“So much cool shit at this new school. Can’t wait to tell you about it whenever you get back.”

Even if I wasn’t sure that was the truth, there couldn’t be anything wrong with that, right?

Surprise when Mick told Chayton to pack a bag. I could see his confusion so I said I’d make him some sandwiches for his mission, whatever it was. Annoyance flares inside me again as we had to play these petty games of secrecy amongst the team. We were all Rangers, why did every mission have to be a secret even from our teammates and friends?

I finished the sandwiches and then moved closer to Allison so that, I really don’t know. I guess I hoped that she would look up at me. My initial thought was that somehow she was in trouble with Mick and that Chayton was headed to link up with Barbe to finish whatever mission they were on. I didn’t know why that would be but I sure wished it had been.

After Chayton had left, and Mick gave us the news, I lost it. The initial thought of, “no fucking way.” Then I demanded an answer and Mick with his normal unemotional response gave one. As usual he didn’t provide a real answer.

That’s when it clicked but by the time I realized, I was lost in the rage, spawned by memory, guilt, and the little scents of new growth breaking free of the cold in Connecticut. Sometimes the beauty of new growth, sometimes the horrors of April trampled the fresh growth.

Springtime in the north, didn’t matter that it was Connecticut and not North Dakota. The same shit happened near or inside reservations all the time.

The Aprils again and again between 80-90 years before. No one should ever forget, and our family never would and yet, I did this year. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

The frustration at the short notice about the academy, the weirdness of the schedule. No routine. The confusion of how is this Mick’s academy if it’s been around for several hundred years?

The dread of the bullies. I hated bullies with a fucking passion. The stupid cliques that were sure to be there. Not being able to experience the new things with Allison. I’d lost the game I loved to play, and didn’t care about some mixed up hodgepodge game made by those with abilities.

That day’s training session. I didn’t particularly care for violence. I didn’t really want to be in the thick of the fight because I knew that would be when one of my friends needed emergency healing and I wouldn’t be able to provide it. I liked, no loved, being the healer for the Rangers, with fighting a secondary issue and combined with my tactical scores both of those would be lost if i was down in the thick of the fighting and unable to see the wider picture. I did it anyway. I knew what I was. I had the miraculous ability to heal, liked only by my own stamina and health. The reason I ran and swam instead of the constant lifting. If I was at least honest with myself, the healing was a compulsion. I NEEDED to protect life.

Kierka’s strange (to me) fear of being taken. The news from last night. The fact that Allison didn’t respond to my cheerful text in the morning.

A general unease had been with me ever since a chunk of the team had been sent on disparate missions.

I’d been right, and yet wrong. Right about the shitter, wrong about who would lose the most important person to them. My heart shattered for Barbe and more important for my friend, the wolf, because the dead no longer feel. Yet, my love had come back to me and I rejoiced even as I cried.

I raged at Mick. When he talked about autonomy, I don’t even remember what I said but I’m sure the point was made. Talk about a cold person, autonomy to choose how we suffer I guess.

He grudgingly agreed to give updates on Chayton. I let it be even though he would probably only give the letter of the agreement not the spirit. He was beginning to remind me of my father, and not in a good way.

When he finally jumped through one of Gleam’s portal I moved to in front of Allison, saying, “I don’t know if this is Affinity or Allison, but . . .”

I staggered when she jumped into my arms for a hug that lasted forever, my tears streaming down my face as I squeezed her tight while she sobbed.

Eventually I carried her upstairs to my bedroom and bathroom off of it where the massive jacuzzi tub resided, starting the bath before going to her room to grab some of the silk pajamas she liked. When I got the response to my text, I set my alarm for the morning before unsealing her uniform and carried her to the bath and walking down the steps into the tub, the foam of the bubbles all over as I held her through many more tears as the heat of the water soothed the ache from our bones.

When finally her hair was dry, her feet rubbed, soothing tea with a bit of honey, anything I could think of we moved to bed, and she didn’t leave for her room, I was grateful, as all I wanted was to hold her until she slept, but she required more intimacy, intimacy to forget, and I was happy to provide solace no matter how. Yet, as we finally depleted the passion, I felt a bit of desperation, but I fell asleep with my arms around her, hoping touch would protect her dreams.

---

My phone alarm vibrated and started the low volume of the music started up before I could find it to slap it off.

I am invincible, unbreakable
Unstoppable, unshakable
They knock me down, I get up again
I am the champion, you’re gon’ know my name

I moved my arms back around her as she stirred from sleep with a sluggish, “Wha…..”

“Sorry, baby, go back to sleep, it’s still early. I asked the Doc for an early session last night,” I whispered, as I held her tight, “I’ll be back by 830 or so for breakfast. Sh…..,” although I think she was already out sleeping like the . . . well, that wasn’t appropriate and I shook my head to rid me of that thought.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed some gym shorts and a t-shirt. Even with AC, San Diego was warm to me. I stopped at the door to make sure Allison was fully back to sleep before heading down the stairs to grab a bottle of juice and downing it really quick, tossing a piece of cold bacon to Sugar as I strode by the stairs where she lay curled at the bottom on the way to the teleporter. I really wish I knew how to make this thing go beyond the pre-programmed of the Paragon Center or now apparently the Virilia Academy.

From there it was up the elevator to the top floor, down a hall, right turn, down another hall to the only suite in that section, before knocking.

“It’s open, dear,” the smooth Australian accent so welcoming that I had to pause for just a moment to regain control of myself. I opened the door to the scent of strong tea and said, “I brought coffee cake, well the American version.”

A snort, and then, “So one of those streusel topped monstrosities withou’ the actual taste of coffee, that righto, boy?”

I smiled, “Correct as always, Mrs. A.”

“Lordy, Lukas, two weeks from our last tea and ye’re back ta that?”

“Alright, I give up. Again. It just feels weird to call you Gran, I mean I don’t even call my grandmother Gran!”

“That’s why it should b’ easy.” As his long legs brought him into the kitchen, “You know where the knives and pastry plates are, so get to it.”

“Of course,” a very long pause, “Gran.” Followed by a light chuckle as stress and grief just seemed to dissipate in Hannah Anderson’s kitchen like some kind of magic.”

---

As the plates sat with only crumbs left on them, I poured Hannah a second cup and then my fourth.

“Well, boy, what’s eatin’ at ye’? Why here so early? Not that I mind, of course, its almost mid-day for me,” Hannah said with a smile.

“Nothing, everything. The nightmares, the secrets, the apparent disaster in Ohio, the team, Mick, I don’t know, April, all of it.”

She sat there waiting, as she always would, kind expression on her face. Somehow I felt like the kindness from her always felt more special than Downs, not that the Doc wasn’t nice, just his felt like the way a psychiatrist should be. Still, she’d wait until I said something, wanting me to find the path on my own.

So it was a bit of a shock when she said, “Who’s this April, ye’ haven’t mentioned her before?”

“Oh, it’s not a girl. I mean, I’m sure there are girls named April, probably even at this new place.” I take a deep breath. “No, its the month, mainly the entire month, but some specific days too. April 2nd, April 8th, April 15th, April 22nd-23rd, April 30th.” My face flushed, “Probably more that I kind of forgot it all, at least consciously, until last night when I realized my body was remembering, when I raged at Mick.”

“Well, I can’t help ye’ wit’ Mick but I’m happy to listen, although you’ best bet is ta talk ta him direct.”

“I plan to, hopefully after my session with Dr. Downs, but he hasn’t responded to my request yet. He probably didn’t deserve all of what I said.”

“Well, then, why don’t ya tell me about, let’s say, April 2nd, since its the first date in April ya mentioned.”

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to tell this story, “Alright.”

“I know Chayton thought it strange when I talked to him a few weeks ago that my family had good relationships with the reservations that bordered our lands on multiple sides. My best friend growing up, and more later, has always been Jeremiah White Eagle and his Dad has been Chief of the Tribal Police forever and had been long time friends with my Mum and my Uncle Matty until, at least until Matty was killed in Afghanistan anyway. Although I was too young to remember it really, I guess even Lindsay dated Sandra White Eagle in high school, which is or was Jeremiah’s oldest sister. After Mom had died, Sandra taught me Mandan and Hidatsa, which are Siouan languages. Sandra was super cool, and when she and Lindsay went to college, they both came back and worked as EMTs and eventually both that and police officers during summers and breaks, tribal and county respectively, although one summer I think Sandra was also a reserve officer for Dad.”

“Anyway, not long after I turned twelve, Sandra left to return to UND Medical School. She was already a nurse, EMT, and cop. She was in her first year of medical school. She never made it. Turns out she never even made it out of the eastern part of Dunn County. Which was strange, given that Jeremiah’s oldest brother was a great mechanic, but they found her car with the flashers on the side of the road the next morning.”

“I don’t know all the details, but I remember that was the year I broke my leg riding my horse on the ranch and it was a bad winter. On April 2nd, roughly four months later, a fisherman found her in the Little Missouri. Sandra was like an aunt to me for the four years after my Mom died. I know I don’t know the details of what happened to her but I’m from a cop’s family so I don’t need the details to know.”

“It wasn’t much consolation, but they actually figured out who it was, well before they found Sandra based on fingerprints found on the side of her car door with some blood on them. Sandra’s blood. He died resisting arrest when my Dad and Lyndsey tracked him down. Strangely my Dad used his backup weapon, and Chief White Eagle was a witness. Not strange of course if you get the nuance, but, well you know.”

“What really gets me thought is I forgot to say a prayer for her this year. I realized that last night. It just seemed to make the loss that much worse.”

“Grief works in many ways Lukas. Sometimes you think you are over it and it slams you in the face. It can be rage and anger and tears and nobody can really tell you how to move past it. They can be there for you and you can be there for them. Eventually it will get easier, but it will always be there.”

---

“It just seems,” I don’t even know what to say and just wave my hands in a half shrug half shoo motion”

“Seems like what Lukas?” the soft Irish brogue rolls off of Downs’s tongue.

“Pointless,” I finally say.

“What is?”

“My Healing.”

“Why do you feel that way about such an important gift?” Downs asked me, as always calmly digging into any issue I ever mentioned in these sessions.

“What’s the f . . .” I could feel the absolute rage boiling up again just like last night so I grabbed it and pushed it back down deep, before starting over thru gritted teeth, “What’s the point if I’m never freaking . . . .I could have used this for Mom, for Sandra, for Daedra, and now for Barbe. All because we have to keep secrets even amongst the team, because Mick wants to keep secrets.”

Downs scratches in his damn journal taking notes. Most of the time, it’s kind of calming. Today it’s just fucking annoying as hell as if it’s mocking me.

It’s a struggle to not pick up the plant holder and shatter it against the wall and only the compulsion to protect and grow life, most people would not include plants but I do.

Suddenly I notice the silence and just like that I’m exhausted, emotionally and mentally defeated. “Why do we have to keep these secrets? I mean I get it that it makes sense to not always send the entire team. Why not brief the team and keep comms open in case of emergencies? Why not take the healer just in case? I want to lead but I have to be able to heal. I’ve lost too many family and friends. Now I’ve lost the annoying little sister. I came here to figure out how to help people, to heal their bodies, and a distance third to fight well enough to protect myself and not be a liability in combat. I hate violence even if I understand the occasional need.

I stop, lost on where or what I want to say.

“Then he takes Chayton away, to do what, force him to deal with this alone? Chayton needs to know we are here for him, we need him, I need my . . .”

I rub my hands through my hair, I don’t want to look at Downs, I’m not sure which emotion would flare. Somehow I needed to purge as much of this shit as I could so I wouldn’t batter Allison with more than she already had to deal with. No idea what had happened and no clue if Mick would ever tell us, hopefully Allison would soon but I didn’t want to press at all, not with her, not with what happened. I knew what it felt like to lose family. All I ever really wanted to do is protect the team, MY team, my family, even the annoying fucking black sheep cousin Felix.

“I mean, if we’d known about the mission details, maybe we could have been prepped, maybe Gleam could have at least gotten me there to heal her.”

Downs finally interjects, “And ye think Mick is to blame for what happened to Barbe, to Allison, in Ohio?”

A choking sigh, and I lean in, resting my head in my hands propped on my knees, “No, not entirely, I just think he made it easier to happen. The fucking UDP and all the other bigots including the Alpha Sapiens are to fucking blame and I won’t sit around and wait like my ancestors did to let bigots destroy them, their homes, their families, their lives.”

“What exactly do you mean by that Lukas?”

Mentally drained I try to remember what the hell we were just talking about. “Which part? My ancestors or not waiting?”

“How about your ancestors first?”

“What? Something not in the background info this place seems to have on everyone?” I doubt that but to play along, “When the first Whitaker came over to the US right before the Civil War, some idiot couldn’t spell his name or understand his accented English, or both, who knows. So all the legal documents said Whitaker instead of Witkowski and good ole Piotr went with it. The families kept together though, those here in the US and those back in what is now Western Poland and Eastern Germany. Still do. The Witkowski’s lost two whole branches of the family tree when the Germans invaded in WWII plus some extra sons in various families. Overall, thirteen Witkowski officers and cadets killed in battle with the Nazis and six more when the Soviet’s executed them as part of the Katyn Forest Massacre.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Lukas,” Doc says.

I wave him off before saying, “That wasn’t even the worst of it. The Witkowski’s were nobility and sometimes in war some of that shit happened. Was it bad, of course, but there is or was I guess a very large wealthy merchant family with property inside and outside of Warsaw. Couple hundred years ago a younger son, always the youngest I guess, broke off and married into a smaller but relatively poor Polish-Prussian noble family with the name of Liebke. He graciously took their name and provided new blood and extensive wealth in return for the noble title and a gorgeous blonde daughter that he had fallen in love with. They had fifteen kids, most of whom actually lived to adulthood and had large families of their own and ties between the merchant families and the Prussian families’ remained close and shockingly enough the Witkowski’s were allies of the Liebke’s and the merchant families for a long time, with quiet a bit of intermarriage. In fact, my maternal grandmother’s maiden name is Liebke, and even a couple generations before that there is a Liebke on my paternal side of the equation.”

A deep breath, “Do you see where I’m going with this Doc?”

Scratch scratch scratch.

Sigh, “Do you know what Liebke means in German, Doctor?”

He ponders for a few, “I believe it’s an old term of endearment, regionally from Prussia.”

“Winner, winner chicken dinner. Right on both counts. It is, however, still common and much in use in a different Germanic language know as . . . Yiddish. That wealthy merchant family? Their name was Lieb, which means Lion by the way. That younger son who took the name Liebke didn’t have to change his name much when he married into nobility and joined the Lutheran Church. The Witkowskis were Catholic of course. Obviously the majority of the Lieb family attended Synagogue. Both the Liebkes and the Witkowskis tried to save as many Liebs as possible with the Liebke’s Prussian military officers doing their best to use their connections to get some of their relatives out while at the same time having to deny any relations.”

“My great grandmother lost four siblings and most of her nieces and nephews to the Warsaw ghetto and eventually the camps. She and two younger siblings and some cousins got out and eventually to the Whitaker ranch. And eventually my grandmother and grandfather married, had my mother, and now, Lindsay and me. Most people assume that someone who looks like the perfect Aryan soldier can’t be a Jewish descendant. They would be wrong of course. That still didn’t mean it didn’t hurt even when the barbs would be thrown my way from parts of the team, It was easier just to let them think the things they wanted to than to defend against them, to fight. Strange little thing for such a small community we Killdeer though. Three houses of worship, a Catholic cathedral, a Lutheran Church and a Jewish Synagogue. My family has members at all three.”

I sigh again, calmer now.

“I guess what I mean is that I love diversity of thought and people, I value family very dearly, and I absolutely despise bigotry and apparently this mission encountered both sides of the bigotry and I lost a family member. I don’t know what Mick’s intent was, but I hope we can be on the same page that when I say bigotry needs destroyed and I won’t tolerate secrets that hurt my family, and the Rangers are my family.”

Downs starts to reply but I stand, “I don’t mean to be rude Doc but I need to go. You have my consent to discuss this session with Mick or any Paragon doctors or anybody frankly you feel needs to know or can help me.”

I walked out checking to see if the director had responded to my request for a meeting.