In all honesty, Orla hadn't been expecting that she'd get the chance to actually bond with Sandy. She figured they'd eternally be butting heads over things, usually because Sandy made assumptions about what Orla had to be feeling or thinking, rather than just asking her. It was probably due to Sandy's powers, and how easily she melded her own mind with those in the Outsiders, shifting between then all meant never needing to ask what they were thinking. She just knew.
Orla wasn't sure if it was time after the mission, or backing her up with Syreni, but it seemed like Sandy was warming to her, and ultimately, it would work out in the long run if they could find some even ground. She didn't want to constantly be arguing about how to go about things, or about her role in matters. The illusion that she thought the Outsiders were leading Alejandro astray, that she blamed the youngsters for anything. She didn't want them to think she wasn't just as worried about them as she was for Alejandro. The way they went about things wasn't Orla's style, the actions they took while on the outside. But she only had Alejandro's ear to nip at, so she understood why the illusion of her concern being limited to him built up.
Since Sandy's release from solitary, and Sandy's open attempts to include her in things, Orla was hoping it was a step in the right direction and that she could clear up whatever they had to clear. Meeting for some food seemed to be a safe bet and they'd done it before and no one had died -although it had been just after the Syreni incident. But then Orla was at the point where she would take what she could get from Sandy.
With her hair still in the short bob she was keeping right now, Orla travelled from the barracks to the cafeteria to find the young telepath.
Sandy was already in the cafeteria. It wasnât a long trip from the barracks, just a little walk down a straight road. That was easy. She could do that and not run into anyone she didnât want to see. Orla suggesting food had been a surprise but a welcome one; Sandy had been isolating herself since her argument with Cassidy. It was still hot on her mind, like the shame and embarrassment at showing him a part of herself she never liked to. Sharing that she felt second best to a lot of things, that had been the driver for her lashing out at Syreni, that and everything was falling apart around her, it felt. The cracks in their foundations were getting so big, that she and Cal couldnât hold it together.
And Cassidy⊠she didnât even know. She had grabbed herself a sandwich but hadnât started it. It was sat on her plate untouched, as was her drink and the packet of potato chips sheâd grabbed out of habit. Sheâd felt out of sorts ever since sheâd gone to see Cassidy. So out of sorts that sheâd avoided Cal until the night just gone, trying to process her own feelings, and fears. Her own⊠stuff. She didnât want to lay that at Calâs door, but she couldnât help worrying that if she didnât do that, if she stopped, would he feel unwanted, too? Would that mean he would start pulling away?
Uugh.
She leaned forward, forehead hitting the table with a thunk as she just waited for Orla to join her, not even lifting her head when she sensed the other woman approaching. She just lifted a hand in greeting and then waved it to gesture that Orla should sit down.
Orla was another one that was confusing her. How she felt about Orla was confusing her. And feeling confused made Sandy angry.
It looked like Sandy was having a hard time, so Orla was quick in grabbing her food, a pasta salad and soda, some fruit to go with it, and slipping past the people to take up the seat open for her. It was likely still startling for those that knew both blondes, that they were spending time together without Alejandro basically just being the orbit. Orla had been around the Outsiders a time or two before, but never really just them.
"You look like the world is crushing you right now." And that could be part of her telepathy, maybe Sandy was branching out to more minds, trying to keep a network of support. She knew that Sandy wasn't sent out on any missions, not recently, she was sure that Cal would've busted something down by now if Sandy was being used for missions. "You doin' okay?"
She knew that backing Sandy up, lying for her, had helped to show Sandy that maybe Orla could be trusted. She hoped it extended into Sandy sharing things that were troubling her. More than anything, Orla thought that maybe if they just had a more level headed influence, they'd be better, smarter, think things through. Alejandro was far too reactionary at times, he went from zero to sixty, and the flow went with that. If he was riled up, the group were riled up. If the group got riled, Alejandro fell into it too. It wasn't the best method of keeping everyone alive, and evidently it wasn't the best method of keeping them all out of jail too.
âFeels kinda like that right now,â Sandy admitted quietly, not lifting her head for a long moment, but when she did she tugged her can closer and rested her chin on it, still slumped over the table but at least this time she was making the effort to have at least a little bit of eye contact. Her head hurt, not because of her powers for once but because of her conversation with Cassidy, both in person and then on the network where heâd apologised. She just didnât know what to do.
Orla seemed like the last person Sandy should reach out to, but at the same time maybe that was exactly who she needed to talk to. Maybe someone who was âoutsideâ but not so outside that they didnât understand the dynamic, or why she was so afraid of it shifting.
âEverything just feels fucked,â she said before her head lifted properly. âYour hairâs short.â
The dynamic was complicated at the best of times, but being able to understand how they'd all supported each other, knowing that there was a safety there, it helped Orla to understand better than most that telling them to just push on wasn't always the best. What affected one of them usually affected them all in some manner, either because it bled through Sandy's link or just because they all took the slight personally -that whole 'mess with me you mess with my family' mentality.
Orla hadn't ever really had that. She'd been alone even inside her family, and then she'd just learned to make her own way. She'd gotten stronger because she kept others out, and that worked for a while, even when she had people in her life, she didn't stop living for herself. That was pointedly highlighted with Derek's return to her life. "Fucked beyond repair, or just fucked a little?" Because there was a difference.
Her hand raised up to touch the ends of her hair, shorter than she'd ever really worn it before. "It got a little icy earlier, I've been wearing it short to give it time to repair." Long enough really, she could lengthen it again whenever and she'd likely have the same mane of glossy blond (or if she wanted to go another colour she could) and no one would really know it had been frozen for a while. "It's a lot easier to wash like this though." But she didn't think that Sandy wanted to talk hair.
"You wanna talk about what's fucked?" Because Orla knew better than to imply that something was upsetting Sandy.
Sandyâs eyes darkened for a moment at the mention of Orlaâs hair getting damaged by something icy. Or rather, someone icy. When would that fucking- When would she just leave Sandyâs family alone? When would she just go off and make her own friends, and do her own thing, and stop messing around and hurting the people close to her? She took a deep breath in through her nose and curled her free hand into a fist under the table, feeling her nails digging into the still-healing crescent moon marks that had broken the skin the other day.
âFucked up a lot,â she said sulkily. The top of the can was digging into her chin, so she moved, folding her arms on the table and resting her chin on them instead, but that was uncomfortable too, so she tipped her head and rested it on her arms. The world was wonky, but it was nothing she wasnât used to.
She breathed in and exhaled noisily when Orla asked her if she wanted to talk. Partly because, honestly, she did. And maybe Orla, who was older, could understand. She didnât want to talk to Cal; he was mad enough about things that were going on right now. She didnât want to ask Frankie for help because Frankie had just come back. Scotty needed her help. Tammy was too young (even though Sandy was barely two years older than her). And Cassidy⊠well, Cassidy was part of the problem.
Her expression shifted into something that was as close to abject misery as she would allow in a public space.
âMaybe.â
It definitely looked like something serious was weighing on Sandy, which was unusual. Given how close they were, most of the issues weren't internal.
It likely made it harder to deal with, if people outside of their group were the problem, Sandy would likely just be forthright with her issues with the people, but when it was inside the group? It was probably the first time they'd had to address any kind of division, since they were all being forced out of their unified comfort zone, socialising with people, interacting in ways that weren't limited to just the core unit.
"If you don't want to talk we could... talk." She made the offer while picking at her food with a fork, giving Sandy a look that was meant to convey what she was talking about. It could be easier, for Sandy, if things were done telepathically, instead of verbally. Since expressing things wasn't really a strong suit for most of the Outsiders. And really, she'd include Alejandro in that sometimes.
Sandyâs eyebrow lifted and her eyes narrowed a little, that expression of suspicion so familiar to Orla crossing her face. She sat up slowly, hands placed on the counter as she tilted her head to the side and just looked at the older woman.
âI said before,â she told Orla carefully, âWings said you didnât want me in your head. So I donât go in your head.â She remembered the offer from before, though, the offer of âif you need me, you callâ from the journal conversation. How sheâd told Sandy if she needed to call on her telepathically she could.
Wetting her lower lip, she placed her hands flat on the table, but then immediately started fiddling with a napkin, just for something to do with her fingers.
âWhen you first came and we met you he told me I had to stay out of your head.â
Having someone inside her head, it was likely to be daunting, and Orla wasn't sure how it was going to go in the least. But she had some understanding of things given her ability to feel emotions. She always felt what other people could feel, something she couldn't shut down at all, unless the other person had a block -like Sandy did. It felt invasive, feeling what other people felt, their fear and joy, their triumph and anxiety. They didn't know she could feel it, but she did.
With Sandy, it wasn't a matter of Orla not wanting her to read her mind, she just wanted to know when or if Sandy did it. "Well, Wings should've maybe checked in with me first on that one." She understood Alejandro's reasoning, telling Sandy not to do it, but he should've told Sandy to ask Orla if she wanted to do it. She got the impression that Sandy took it a little differently than simply being about reason and politeness.
"Sandy, all I would've asked would be that you got my permission before using your telepathy at first. I don't mind it, you can look and we can converse like that if you're more comfortable. I would just hope that, if I ever asked you not to read my mind, you'd respect that." Not that she could see anything happening currently. Aside from potentially, maybe, future times when there might need to be a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
Sandy shifted uncomfortably. All of her thoughts about Orla were changing in this place. For the longest time she just thought Orla didnât care about them and only about Alejandro. She was beginning to wonder if that wasnât a true assumption at all. It made her feel...weird to think that she might have been wrong about it. But then⊠without being in someoneâs head, it was difficult for her to gauge people. She didnât have the same ability to get information about someone just by looking at them like Cal did. Even then, Cal didnât trust them until Sandy gave him the okay.
Theyâd never been allowed inside Orlaâs head, so sheâd never really been able to say without a shadow of a doubt that the other woman could be trusted. But her actions here⊠Sandy didnât want to admit that she was wrong because that would have meant that they had acted appallingly to someone who should have been part of their family for a long time. But then again, stranger things had happened.
âYou really wouldnât mind?â she asked, just wanting to be sure. âI- People donât like being around me when they have something to hide.â She wasnât saying it outright, but the notion was there; theyâd all assumed Orla had some dark secret that she didnât want them knowing about, and that was why she had told Wings to keep Sandy out. But if that wasnât the case, if that wasnât why⊠then what was it?
Secrets were impossible to keep with a telepath, that much was true. And it was probably just simple thinking that meant the Outsiders didn't trust without Sandy looking through someone's mind. They hadn't grown up or developed in the same manner many other people had. So, it stood to reason that trust didn't come unless there had been a mind scan.
"I have ... bad memories, like most people do, they're not things I like to think or dwell on, and there's some things that are painful. But I don't have anything I need to keep secret. I haven't killed anyone or done something that merits hiding forever." She'd stolen a thing or two, once or twice. She'd maybe been too trusting here or there. "I don't mind letting you in, if that's what makes you feel comfortable."
If Sandy needed to read her mind to trust her, to let her help, to work with her, then Orla was fine to have her mind read.
Sandy frowned a little but the nodded. She thought if it was a lie sheâd probably find out pretty quickly once she was actually in the other womanâs head. She opened her soda and took a sip of it, pursing her lips in thought before she just nodded her head. âI donât tell people what I see,â she said softly, like that was supposed to make it better, make Orla feel more comfortable about letting Sandy into her mind.
She drew a deep breath and shifted on the bench a little, getting as comfortable as she could before she propped her chin up in her hand. Her other arm remained curled almost protectively around her food, like she was expecting someone to come and snatch it away.
âYou ready?â she asked, waiting for Orla to nod before her eyes unfocused and she gently nudged her way into Orlaâs head, making sure that the other woman could feel her poking around. She could be invisible, if she wanted to be, Sandy could make it so that she was in and out without being detected, but that wasnât really needed right here.
The first thing that hit her, though, was the noise. Feelings from everywhere, all around Orla, pushing at her for attention. She gritted her teeth, her brows furrowing a little, before she continued, gently and carefully leafing her way through.
Orla just chewed on some food as she nodded, giving Sandy the go ahead, while she tried to ponder just what Sandy would find in there. She wouldnât have been surprised to know the emotions were a high and constant stream, Orla had learned to not pay much attention to the ever present understanding of emotions from everyone, she tended to let them wash over her, rarely tampering with them, but even now, sitting in the cafeteria, she had an understanding of all the people there and their emotional body.
She hadnât been lying to Sandy when she said she didnât really have any secrets; not things she wouldnât mind Sandy seeing. Even if it meant a full and more complex knowledge of Orlaâs family; the money, the loss of her mother, her step-mother, Kathryn. Orlaâs childhood was a see-saw of good and bad, purely because of who was a part of it.
Saving Remi from a fall was the start of the end, and really, if Orla had to be honest, leaving home was the best thing she ever did. Of course then it was supporting herself, working, the support structure at the diner, Derek, until she went to Pennsylvania and ultimately met Alejandro.
She didnât feel like there was any big, climatic moment in her life, like the end reel of a montage or something. There was just a lot of experiences that helped shape Orla, and people she tried to do what she could to help. Which, ultimately, didnât always come across well.
Sandy would realise that, if she dug around Orlaâs thoughts and experiences with the Outsiders, her worry and concern, not just for Alejandro, but for how these kids were doing things, how all of them just fed into that cycle rather than taking a step back to try something else. And she felt like a lot of these issues mightâve been avoided if the group -and Alejandro- were slightly better at listening to someone.
Sandy kept having to bat back the emotions that crept into Orlaâs mind as she leafed her way through. There wasnât any resistance, so absorbing all of the information was quick and easy for her. The only time she stumbled was when she reached the part that included them, seeing herself through Orlaâs eyes she looked tiny and angry. She had been younger, then, that was true, but it had only been a few years. She watched them all interact with each other from an outsider point of view and felt a pang in her chest, a pain that she wasnât used to. Something like nostalgia but deeper, a hurt. That longing for a past that theyâd never have back. That longing for a time when things had been simpler.
She rushed through the rest of the memories, including Orla going to look for Frankie and getting caught, right up until the blast of cold.
It was a little interesting, feeling Sandy inside her mind, although Orla wasnât sure where or what Sandy was seeing or experiencing. It felt rude to talk over whatever Sandy was sifting through too, even though it was Orlaâs head, like she should wait until Sandy was finished with something.
Orla just focused on poking through her pasta salad, picking at the lettuce. âCan I just think things and you hear them?â The frown was on her face, because she was still working out the finer details of this. âOr is that just annoying?â
Sandy nodded her head. [I can hear everything] she responded, pulling herself out of Orlaâs head properly, only leaving a tiny bit of herself connected to the other woman. She blinked a few times, that vacant, glassy look leaving her eyes as she returned to her own mind. She rubbed her eyes, and then pressed her fingers into her temple. Orlaâs head was noisier than most of the others that she went into, she wasnât entirely sure sheâd be seeking refuge in Orlaâs noisy mind but it would be a good place to go to.
âSometimes itâs the easiest way to get my attention,â she offered, her whole posture immediately having changed, shoulders dropped, she shifted to tuck one leg underneath herself as she sat opposite Orla, almost looking like a completely different person. âI can always hear someone thinking my name better than I can hear someone saying it sometimes.â
It was hard to tell, but Orla got the impression that sheâd just passed some kind of test, like she was in some kind of exam and this was the last leg, sheâd gotten over some kind of hurdle to make it to the finish line.
âAt least Iâll know if I need to get a hold of you then.â Even if it might take Orla a few tries. âDoes that⊠Does that help you understand anything?â The point was to show Sandy she had no secrets, that sheâd be there if they needed her, that even if sheâd been withdrawn from their plans, she hadnât meant it as if she didnât like the kids.
She wanted Sandy to know she trusted her.
Sandy nodded her head, âMmhm,â she responded, even her response was a little bit brighter. âDo you want some chips?â she asked, opening the packet and turning it so that it was sitting between them. Sandy only had ever shared her food with the other Outsiders, even here, so offering it to Orla was a big deal. But it was freely done. Freely done now she knew that Orla could be trusted.
Orla could be trusted.
âCan I- um, can I ask you a question?â she asked, tapping her fingers on the table. âAbout, um, stuff?â
The change in attitude was enough to have Orla relaxing slightly, although she always tended to keep herself a little on alert around Sandy. There didn't seem to be a need for it right now. "Thanks, you want any fruit?" Sharing food was definitely a sign that she'd passed.
Taking a few chips from the bag, Orla crunching away, putting her mostly finished salad to the side and leaning on the table. The fact that Sandy took a more casual and friendly approach meant that Orla automatically found herself mimicking it too. Relaxed shoulders, slouching a little, her hair happened to look a little more glossy too. "Of course you can, ask me anything, even about stuff." Which was probably just girl stuff, since Sandy only really had Frankie and Tammy to talk about that with, and they were probably just as lost as Sandy was. "What's on your mind?"
âYour hair looks nice, by the way, short suits you.â Sandy added, reaching out and peeling the orange, carefully leaving the peel on one side and placing it in between them on a napkin, splitting it in half, and then into individual segments. It was good to have something to keep her hands busy as Orla explained that it was okay to talk to her.
She was just trying to work out how to put what she was feeling into words and that was hard. âI havenât seen Cal in, like, three days. And I fell out with Cassidy. I think Scottyâs mad at me. Frankieâs⊠back and- and Tammyâs Tammy.â It wasnât that Sandy disliked the youngest member of her group as much as it was that she had a lot of unprocessed feelings about what happened when people joined and how it affected their dynamic.
She looked at Orla, eyes large and sad. âI just- Weâre falling apart and I donât know how to stop it. And Cassidyâs acting weird.â
Short was an occasional thing, a thing that Orla wasn't always prone to doing because she liked to play with her hair. But once in a while, it was fun to change it up. Other times it was just necessary. "Thank you, I like the change sometimes." But it was clear that Sandy was having some trouble, now that the group was in this new situation with problematic issues.
There were people from the outside of their group pushing in, trying to befriend individual members, and while Orla new they would constantly be close as a unit of six, they weren't used to other people being on the peripheral of it all. "What happened with Cassidy?" It seemed the easiest thing to address. Tammy seemed to be the outlier of the group to Sandy, the youngest girl usually with one of the others and friendly with Sandy but not closest.
It was amazing what Orla could take away from just watching them.
"Frankie is adapting again to being with you all, but she'll get used to it again soon. I'm sure all of this drama going on isn't helping you guys try to unwind, and being on different teams isn't going to help matters." They went from only having each other to living with dozens of other people. It was bound to mess up things a little. "I know change is hard for you guys, it usually isn't as daunting as this too." She doubted anything could really pull them all apart.
"You know it's not terrible if you guys make other friends, so long as you don't forget who your first friends were?"
Sandy didnât answer for a long moment, waiting until Orla had completely finished talking before she went to respond. Telepathic communication was so much simpler; instantaneous sharing of thoughts. None of this weird back and forth where you had to wait-listen-respond. She much preferred just transferring information. That way then things didnât get misconstrued.
âI had a fight with Cassidy,â she said, picking up another fruit segment and holding it, turning it between her fingers, not eating it just yet. She glanced at Orla and then took in a breath, gently nudging the memory of the argument to the other woman. It was followed shortly after by the memories of the journal conversation. Shared temporarily without pushing them to be forever burned into Orlaâs brain. It was just easier for Sandy that way. Unfortunately, it also came along with the way she felt at the time, and all those racing anxious thoughts.
She picked at the white stuff on her orange segment and huffed out a breath. âKinda feels like maybe if we hadnât been together on the outside that we wouldnât really have worked at all?â She looked at Orla. âLike⊠like we donât really fit.â
The mental download method was interesting, although Orla found it very informative. There was very little he said/she said in it, just everything from Sandy's point of view, picking up the social cues, the mannerisms and some of Sandy's jumbled feelings on the matter.
It seemed like Cassidy was edging towards feelings that might be confusing for Sandy to process, given how close they all were, and the jumble of emotions and feelings they'd all be dealing with given that they were locked up in a confined space with very little to with their energies -which was maybe why there was so much trouble going on.
"Or maybe, you fit too well. You've all lived in each others pockets constantly for years, you were all you had. Changing that, even just a little, it can be confusing. Cassidy doesn't have to help protect you all, Cal doesn't need to keep you all hidden and safe, you don't need to hide from everyone. There's no one to really fight against right now." Although she knew they were resistant to the authority around the facility, but there was no way to properly push back without ending up in trouble themselves.
"I'm sorry things are getting complicated. And I'm sorry there's no easy fix for things either. How do you think you and Cassidy can work on things?" Especially if there were confused feelings to work through.
âMaybe weâre just like a puzzle that doesnât really work,â Sandy said gloomily, because that was how she felt. She felt like they didnât really fit. Like if theyâd met in here for the first time theyâd not be friends, theyâd be people that were bitchy to each other over the network. That she wouldnât be friends with Cal, that heâd not care about her and probably just think she was some stupid kid. Cassidy probably wouldnât be too different but heâd be flirting with everyone and no one would be anything more to him than a flirt. Scotty wouldnât even look twice at her. She didnât even know if sheâd speak to Tammy. Frankie neither. And Alejandro would just be one more asshole adult.
She pressed her lips together in an unhappy line and stuffed the segment sheâd been playing with into her mouth.
âThereâs always someone to fight against, Orla,â she told her sadly. âWings told us to rattle cages when we arrived, me and Cal. Told us to make waves, see what happened.â And he had done, so they did. And they got punished for it.
And the question about Cassidy threw her because she really didnât understand his problem. She didnât understand. âI dunno,â she offered. âAbout Cas, I mean. I just- I donât know. I guess I should talk to him and stuff but that didnât work last time. And I mean, he kissed Syreni, or all the people he could-â She scowled at her tray.
âYou know, even the odd shaped puzzle pieces fit into the picture somewhere.â She understood why Sandy was feeling the odd effects of this place and what it was playing at with them.
âThere is, but thereâs not always a way to fight. And Wings is still getting an ear bashing from me about that, you shouldnât have been asked to do that, all it will do is get more attention on us, all of us, rather than let us play to their weaknesses itâs exposing our own.â Because everyone was now aware of how to hurt the group; you hit one, you hurt them all. Cal had a temper that was easily prodded if any of the group were a target, Sandy was vulnerable when her telepathy was cut off or her friends were in the line of fire. They all pin balled off each other and it was clear now because Alejandro had them rattle cages.
âYou guys are family, in a way that most families arenât. You chose each other, you banded together and you saw each other through some of the hardest things anyone has ever been through. Some girl with nifty powers isnât going to change that. Thereâs going to be a dozen girls just like Syreni, Sandy. And none of them are going to change the fact that you, and Tammy and Frankie and Cal and Cass and Scotty are together. Youâre a group. No one else is going to measure up to that.â They had what Orla thought sheâd have when Claudia married her father, they had friends, family, people who would die and kill for each other.
âSometimes the piece doesnât fit, but sometimes it just needs turned around.â
Having pulled out another segment of orange, Sandy didnât look at Orla, instead she reached forward and put it next to another piece, carefully rebuilding what hadnât been eaten of the orange. She didnât look less miserable, but she did look contemplative, like she was mulling over what Orla had said. She lifted a shoulder and then let go, the pieces all falling away.
âMaybe.â
Maybe.
It was better than a flat out argument, and Orla would take that. âIt wonât seem like it right now, but things will settle, and this little storm will pass. And in the mean time, Iâm here whenever you need me.â
Sheâd proven something to Sandy, and having earned the girls trust was a monumental thing. Orla was going to cherish that.