Devon and Nate had both known Celestina was bound for Haven. After what Devon had heard from her that first meeting and seen from her on Halloween, let alone Nathaniel’s experience with her it seemed perfect. She cared and she acted. They wanted to nurture and support that. It was an obvious invitation.

It’d been months since Halloween and he’d yet to formally discuss it with her. There was also planning for the new year ahead and frankly, seeing her for a little socializing wasn’t a bad idea either. The atrium was a perfect place for such. Derek had overseen its creation with large wide windows, manicured grasses, and even a small reflecting pool. A nearby pool housed large gold fish but this pool was simply for staring.

Looked out and you saw Central Park. Look down and you saw yourself. Hopefully you liked what you saw. Devon wasn’t so sure. He was looking a little dark under the eye. Was that Dopple-Devon staring back at him?

Those long nights were getting to him. The nightmares were infrequent but felt too real. Halloween had lingered long past the holidays…

He sat comfortably on the nearby bench, wondering too how Derek was fairing.

It had been a couple weeks since college started, several weeks from the time she had joined Haven. She and Devon had arranged for a little get together to discuss Halloween and m aye other things, to help both of them process the... Trauma, really, have the events that happened to them. Neither had deserved what happened, but both had to live with the consequences of that night.

She wore a pair of blue jeans, a black trench coat, and a typical grey t-shirt. It was definitely a more relaxing outfit, which she chose since it was a cold day. Not to mention, if they got into too serious conversations about that night, Celeste couldn't guarantee she wouldn't cry. The autopsy of the witch showed that the ultimate cause of her death was radiation poisoning. Luckily, the garage wasn't irradiated anymore after she was transported away. She had actually been the lead contributor to someones death. It was something that she still was processing.

To everyone else, she tried to be the supportive, encouraging one. Even with Devon, she was going to try to be that way. Downplay how she felt, the nightmares she's had, the burden she's carried. She needed to get it out and maybe, depending on how the conversation went with Devon, this could be a time for both of them to really, truly feel and maybe... Maybe even bury for good some of the emotions that has plagued them since that night.

She saw Devon and waved as she came up. Once she reached the bench, whether or not he stood up, she leaned down and hugged him. After the greetings hug, she would sit down next to him. "Hey, you, how are you doing?" She would say lightheartedly.

Devon stood as Celeste approached. He grinned whole-heartedly and waved back with a small chuckle. They exchanged a warm, friendly hug and both sat down. Devon gave a long sigh as she asked how he was doing.

“I’m good, really enjoying some of the outreach we’re doing. The holidays at Sanctuary were great. Got some new volunteers there and even into Haven,” he gave a slow nod. “I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. Our membership amazes me. It’s why I wanted us to come together for their support. It’s also why we wanted you to join,” he nodded eagerly.

“But how about you? You enjoying school now, formally a member and not just a lurker?” he chuckled.

Celeste was happy to see Devon - he was a friendly face, someone she could trust and count on. She hoped he knew the same would come from her. As they sat down, Celeste took a moment to enjoy the view. To try to cement her feelings, prepare them for the coming confessions they faced. It was going to be good to get some of the things that they have buried in their hearts.

She smiled and did a little clap, "Oh, that is great! I'm so glad to hear. We are doing some really great work." She agreed. Of course, she had been fairly busy preparing for college over the past month. She had went a little overboard in preparation, which didn't really surprise her. She had even already written a 5 page paper that was due in about a month. With the financial aid package, she actually could take a little bit of a break from work and just... Relax. It was a strange feeling, but a good one. She had planned to use that free time to assist Haven and pursue responsibilities in the group.

She smiled, nearly blushing at his compliment. "Well, if it wasn't for you and Nate, and the Mansion, I... I don't know where I'd be, honestly." She tossed him another smile, "You're someone I have admired from the beginning and to be your friend is just awesome."

She grinned and laughed. Remembering her first time meeting Devon, she had snuck into the opening class to see his speech and luckily was able to actually talk with him about those things. "I am loving it! My dorm is officially perfect, my roommate is fairly good, and all my classes are great. It's really turning out good."

Devon continued to chuckle and grin at Celeste’s exuberance.

He smiled, he nodded, he beamed, he blushed… Celeste was quite complimentary. She was friendly, warm, eager, exciting. A powerful mutant with a lot to consider due to the danger, she didn’t let it hold her back. But Devon knew some things weighed on you. He’d been there, and increasingly he was realizing he was there again. But for Celeste he knew it was worse.

>> "I am loving it! My dorm is officially perfect, my roommate is fairly good, and all my classes are great. It's really turning out good."

“Great, great…” Devon murmured. “I’m thrilled you’re enjoying class,” he nodded slowly, eyes on the surface of the reflecting pool. They looked tired; he looked tired. He was tired.

“It’s important to have a good roommate. I’ve never had one. I had a small private place while I was taking my classes,” he grinned slightly. “But you can make some lifelong friends while in school so I encourage you in that. It’s not all classwork after all. A lot of social and leadership skills are developed in college.”

Devon let out a long sigh, “And you are quite kind to note your admiration, but I have to admit I’m failing myself lately and that’s partially why I wanted to talk with you. I’ve tried to talk to some about what happened… on Halloween. It’s weighing on me, and I want to be sure you’re getting what you need to feel supported after what happened. A good leader – a good friend – checks in while also taking care of themselves. And I’m not sleeping and when I do…” He shook his head.

“I don’t want your time at college to be diminished by what you could not control either.”

Celeste looked into the reflecting pond. She had avoided looking at herself in the mirror for a while - she knew the bags under her eyes were worse than usual. She could see them easily in the pool. She could see herself, her fears, her dreams, all in that person staring back at her. She - they - had been through so much. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to keep herself going. Halloween was a huge setback for her, at least emotionally.

She nodded. She was glad she was too - it was one of the many concerns she had. What if she hated it? What if she was really bad? Or didn't fit in? None of those fears seemed justified now. But as the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20.

She nodded as she listened to him. He was right. It was about the relationships, the networking, the experience to be in college. The coursework was important, but ultimately the experience of being there was just as much, if not more, important. "I'm going to try," she was able to confirm. She had hoped to make all sorts of connections at school - but also in Haven. She wanted to change the world - and these couple months made her want to even more.

She paused as she listened to him carefully. He wanted to talk about Halloween. He was the first to mention it. She was initially nervous to be the first one to bring it up but he did. That was good. The last time she talked about Halloween was with Mirror - and that was right after she woke up from the coma. She fiddled with her fingers as she listened to him. He wasn't sleeping, he's tried talking about it, and Celeste could only presume they didn't help very well.

She reached over and grabbed his hand in hers for comfort, "I... I can't sleep. And if I do... It's terrifying." It came out more as a whisper, more weaker than she expected. She took a breath, "You are not failing yourself, though. We... We're surviving. We're doing the best we can." She nodded, unsure if her words really made sense but for her. She wasn't even sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. She had no other option than to keep pushing on than to let the dreams, the feelings, knowing that she was the primary murder of someone (even if they weren't good people.) She already felt the emotions beginning to dwell up.

Devon smiled gently as Celeste took his hand. It faltered as he nodded along with the words she shared: they both weren’t sleeping. He’d expected such from the look she gave. Artair had been numbing it behind alcohol, but they’d simply fought off the nighttime. Celeste didn’t sound very pleased with herself and she said much as he expected.

They were surviving.

“Society of late is putting a lot on our generation, though I know I’ve had the benefit of many things lately,” Devon nodded slowly. “Emotions have been regulated to good and bad, but all are natural. We can’t condemn one another for them, especially when they are indicative of the need for healing. You wouldn’t let a wound fester right?” He sighed, “Same thing. We are putting band-aids over things that need surgery, attention, stitches…”

“If I was merely advising a patient of friend, I’d note the need to address these emotions. Put them to paper, talk to me or another trained professional, reason out why we feel that way, accept we feel that way… I haven’t even been following my own advice of course,” he shook his head. “I’m not sleeping either. I try to battle my ‘bad emotions’ with the logical idea that what we saw wasn’t really. But I still saw them, felt them. And those girls… they clearly needed help but somehow it all got away from them until it was too late.”

Devon’s voice had quieted, the words never failing him. It was always easier when he tried to put himself in a work state of mind. “It’s impossible for us to know the state they were truly in. I feel guilty for the people I hurt and I’m sure you do too, knowing you as I’ve come to,” Tempest looked from the pool to her, holding eye contact as best he could. “If you didn’t, I’d be shocked. What happened can’t be undone and unfortunately – sane or not – they were hurting more people and would have done even worse. A sad truth but one to accept. Look how quickly I lost it-“

Devon sighed again, hanging his head in shame as his gaze went back to the reflecting pool.

She mostly kept looking towards the water. It was easier to look there than to look at Devon right now. They were emotional and seeing him sad would make her even more sad. Which would just spiral everything into tears. It was better for her to focus on her reflection.

She nodded. He was right, after all. They were hurt. They were damaged. It was something they were going to have to confront, somehow, and eventually move past. Neither of them could continue to suffer like this. Maybe that was the worst thing the witches did - they scarred all of us. She sighed, thinking about people who were harmed - either by her, Tempest, or other people during the chaos. She still wasn't sure what all was real and was fake. That was especially true with the people. Sure, she knew her parents weren't actually there trying to kill her. But she didn't know if people really were pulling their skin off and everything else.

She nodded as she listened to him. Talk to a therapist, a psychologist, a trained mental health professional. She wasn't really sure if she wanted or could do that. He then admitted he hadn't even been following his own advice, that he couldn't sleep. "Some of it wasn't real... But to our minds, it was. That makes it real." She murmured quietly, "They were really screwed up." She said it a little more bitterly than expected.

She felt the tinge in her eyes as he spoke. They both felt bad for the people they hurt. She knew he did, and he knew she did. She looked up to meet his gaze as best as she could, but her eyes faltered several times. Hopefully, it wasn't too obvious she was holding back some tears.

She could tell he was trying to be a professional - to make her feel better. She wished she was a psychologist so she could help him better. "You didn't lose it... You were naturally acting to the situation. You can't blame yourself for that. No one.. Can blame for what happened in their, expect for those... Monsters. I mean, look at me. I basically went supernova. I made a lot of people really sick." Basically the entire garage at the time, but hey, who needs specifics. She used her free hand to touch the still pink scar from her stab wound. Not only was she mentally scarred, she was physically scarred.

Devon knew Celeste felt conflicted. Her sorrow was real, but so too was her anger. She had the right to be. Devon knew that anger too, but fear was the stronger emotional still. He’d fallen apart so quickly. The girls may have been deranged but how much was their own doing? Were they victims of their own power?

“If nothing else, we must listen to one another right?” Devon sighed. “Neither of us wished to do these things. We regret now what happened. We are sorry for it. We are dismayed that we lost control. We are angry for what they made us do. The monsters give us a target for what we fear in ourselves at times,” Devon spoke slowly. “All mutants know that fear, even subconsciously for we have power that can threaten. And of course there are those who are called monster simply for how they appear.

“If I can’t blame myself, neither can you, and neither should any mutant. None of us can know what those girls really wanted and how much they believed. It has made sleeping difficult, but I have to accept that and try to work past it,” Devon added more affirmatively. “I have to have a long talk with my doctor about it. He likely expects it at this point but has given me some time. I’ve noticed his subtle urgings.

“I guess that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Urge you along as well. Healing takes time but yeah, it’ll always be with you,” he gestured to her arm. “Best we can do is practice, train to try to have better control in the face of such. We can help others do so and watch for something like this again. That’s what Haven does: watch, listen, and support. We’ve got to take care of each other of course.”

Celestina fiddled her hands in her pockets as she stared into the pool, trying to filter through the many different emotions she felt. There was so many that she couldn't possibly keep up with them at this point. She knew that she needed to get them out, but how could someone get them out when you couldn't exactly describe it besides angry, sad, depressed, or some mixture of rage?

With a sigh, she gave Devon a weak smile and nodded. That was the best thing they could do. Listen. She nodded as he spoke, carefully taking in what he explained. He was right, after all. She could be crazy and might have supernova fully innocent people with no bad guys. It's not like it hadn't happened before - at school that one day, a life time ago. No one died, but still. Making everyone radioactive in your class wasn't a great way to end your day.

A doctor. She really needed to talk to someone, too. But then again, she was talking with Devon. Maybe she could live through most of it, for now. She felt better just knowing she wasn't alone in this. Even someone as amazing, intelligent, and awesome as Devon was going through this, it made her feel better in many ways.

She smiled again, "We do have to take care of each other." She sighed, taking a breath. "We'll never be them, right?" It was a slightly rhetorical question, slightly serious. What if something triggered in them and made them crazy, willing to hurt so many with no cause? Maybe, ultimately, he was right - maybe the fear that she could be one of them had anchored part of her subconscious into a rut.