Chase enjoyed running errands with Miss Gemma. They could talk, and it was just him and her, and none of the other students. Just him and miss Gemma, and no one else-- sure, there were downfalls, because shopping with Gemma meant shopping in his natural face, but Chase still enjoyed the quality time regardless. He just kept his eyes down and kept close to his mother, and hoped that nobody looked to closely at him.

Today they were not only running the typical errands (which were largely Mansion-oriented, entailing supermarkets and bulk foods), but were also dropping by a few department stores, to see if they could find Chase some new clothes. Chase was in need of clothes that were better-equipped to take on the winter elements, and since his mutation made him sensitive to genetic residues left on recycled clothes from other people, this necessitated that Chase wear new clothes. At least until he got better control over his mutation.

"So where are we going next?" Chase inquired from the back seat, looking up from the Etch-a-Sketch upon his lap. He sat behind the passenger's seat, within Gemma's line of vision if she were to look in the rear-view mirror, or to look over her shoulder from the driver's seat. Chase shifted between doodling on the Etch-a-Sketch, and speaking intermittently. Chase glanced down at his drawing, which consisted of a bunch of overlapping squares-- had anyone asked, he was drawing New York City, but all it really looked like was a bunch of squares, so far.

The inquiry was code for, "Are we going to JC Penney's next?" because Chase was anxious to get some warm clothes. Chase had adopted an unabashed excitement over getting new clothes-- it still felt like a novelty, to him, to get new clothes that were to be his and his alone, as opposed to getting hand-me-downs.

Gemma enjoyed running errands with Chase. In most families, dragging the kid(s) along was a necessary bad - Mom not having anyone to look after them - and she remembered her own kids all to well wreaking havoc in the backseat many many times. But Chase, in his quiet way, was actually fun to spend time with, even when she hand shopping lists and to-do lists and a million other things to pay attention to. He was probably happy just to spend time with her. That always made Gemma smile, and she didn't resist when he asked her if he could tag along.

"We need to buy you some winter clothes anyway." she agreed with a smile. And so, here they were.

>>"So where are we going next?"

"JC Penney's" she smiled, guessing his thoughts. It was a bit surprising, a kid Chase's age actually looking forward to buying clothes; but it made things a lot better too. "You need a decent coat, and shirts, and... probably new shoes too. Let's see what we can find, hm?"

>> "We need to buy you some winter clothes anyway.... JC Penney's. You need a decent coat, and shirts, and... probably new shoes too. Let's see what we can find, hm?"

Chase grinned. That was his Mama, ever-perceptive about what Chase was talking about even when his thoughts and desires were left unsaid. Chase only expected a coat out of the deal, but apparently he was going to get shirts, and shoes as well. Again, with the buying of clothes feeling like a privelege to Chase-- Miss Gemma seemed astonished that Chase wanted to shop for clothes, Chase seemed astonished that Miss Gemma would suggest that he wouldn't.

"Maybe a red coat?" Chase chirped with excitement from the back seat. Red was a color that was so contrary to Chase's tendency to want to fade into the background, "With a hood? And pockets." Pockets that he could stick lots of things in, like rocks and legos, and the occasional animal, if he happened to find such a thing. Chase ceased his fussing with the Etch-a-Sketch, looking down at his shoes.

They were the same old shoes from when he lived on the streets. The soles were essentially worn, and the shoes were what most referred to as "well-loved". But they held memories. These were the shoes that he walked to New York in, the shoes that brought him to Miss Gemma. So, needless to say, Chase was kind-of attached to them. The eight-year-old leaned back and sighed. Everyone needed to get new shoes once in a while, he supposed.

The speedometer on his car crept past the speed limit with the pressure of his foot down on the accelerator. The music in his car pounding away to the latest song on the radio and his widow cracked slightly open to air out the dirty laundry in the back of his car. He'd have to hit the laundry mat after work, if he didn't let out to late. The squinted eyes looked down at the radio clock, time was moving quicker then he could...Sh**, I got to call Travis. With one hand on the wheel, his other hand dug around in his pockets in search for the track phone he picked up at Walmart a few days ago. With living on the go, he needed some sort of number to be called at when he was needed. Plus giving digits to Cree could only push their relationship into a new direction, hopefully one that gave him another glance at those legs hiding under the boy pants she seemed so fond of.

And it's you next to me
Livin super fast blowin daddy's cash
Call the cops, close the streets
Cause this sh**s about to burn down

Letting go of the wheel, his fingers turned the knob on the radio cranking the music up for a moment. Sitting back in his seat, his hand went to the 6 o'clock position as he continued to dig for the phone. Where in the world did he put it? Not in his pockets, it had to be in his bag or the dashboard. Switching hands on the wheel, he reached into the back seat to pull out the school bag he had. Eyes off the road, he veered to the left a bit before a horn honked. Looking up where he should be looking, he quickly tugged the wheel the other direction. "Go honk yourself."

All you beautiful freaks
Just grab somebody and light the place up
Light the place up, yeah
If you're a beautiful freak
No sleep, light the place up
Light the place up, yeah

Yanking the bag into the front seat with him, his eyes shifted back and forth between the bag and the road. It wasn't like even had a lot in the school bag to begin with and he still couldn't find what he was looking for. Maybe it was the vast amount of space that seemed to eat his phone alive. Hitting a pot hole, a stream of curses chorused from his mouth over the lyrics from the radio. Finally wrapping his fingers around the phone, he tossed the bag to the passenger seat.

All you beautiful freaks
Just grab somebody and light the place up
Light the place up, yeah
If you're a beautiful freak
No sleep, light the place up
Light the place up, yeah

Turning down the radio, his fingers wrapped themselves around the phone. Eyes flickered to the clock again. Gonna be late...stupid traffic, stupid school.. A black Porsche cut in front of him unexpectedly. Jerking his wheel to avoid running into it, another car horn broke out behind him. Flicking a finger into the air he didn't know what else to do, he got cut off what did the other driver expect out of him. Slumping back in his car seat, his fingers went to dial on the phone, he just needed to get a quick call through to Travis to let him know he was stuck in traffic. He wasn't going to loose his job because stupid school and stupid traffic. How else was he going to bling out his car and really impress Cree?

With the traffic light up ahead, his foot twitch on the gas peddle. He needed to get through this light, or he might end up even later. Stay green, stay green. The fingers started to push the numbers in the phone. Another car whipped out on his right now cutting him off right before the light. Yanking the wheel hard, he soon found his car heading down a one way street, in the wrong direction.

"Hellno."

Through the glass of his car he could see the face that he despised so much. She was the last person in the world that he wanted to know he had a car, the very last person in the world. Trying to avoid a head on collision, he went for the best option, the street. Jumping the curb the tail end of his car caught onto something spinning his car. Pedestrians on the street scattered and ran in the confusion. With a smack against his window, the car bounced off a street light as the tail end of his car went right in the direction of the passenger side of the car he so desperately tried to avoid. Pushing down on send, the squinted eyes struggled to stay open.

So get in where you fit in
Ima keep on grinnin'
Like a politician up on the stage

The radio blurred into the voice on the phone. His hand barely moved from the wheel as the voice continued to talk. "Travis..." His throat croaked out.

>>"Maybe a red coat? With a hood? And pockets."

"That sounds good" Gemma smiled and nodded "We can look around and see if we find any that you like. And if we don't..."

She looked ahead; her first thought was 'but this is a one-way street...', a split second before she recognised the face behind the wheel. Oh hell no. That came with a rush of thoughts and emotions, as her body reacted to the threat and steered away from the car that was headed straight for them. They both spun out of control; then the other car slammed into hers on the passenger's side, and then they hit a wall on the other side, and then everything was still.

I have just been in a car accident.

Gemma lifted her head from the airbag and tried to regain her sight and stop her head from spinning. Sitting back in her seat, she tried to turn to look at Chase, panic swelling inside her as she listened for sounds. her head hurt, her neck hurt, her face hurt, everything hurt.

"Chase?... Chase!..." there was not much room to move; Gemma's brain went into surivial mode as she reached into her pocket for her phone, hoping it was not damaged.

"Chase? It's okay baby, it's gonna be okay. We are fine. I am going to... make a call..."

911 first, DocProf right after. She couldn't be healed, but Chase could. And she would have to check on Hokee too... later.

Chase hadn't the time to react. One moment, they spoke of new coats, and the next there was a car heading straight towards them. Breath hitched, adrenaline burst, and time slowed. Chase's small form tensed preemptively with fear. The two cars attempted evasion-- the other hopped the curb, they were in the clear-- but the hope was short-lived. The other car caught an immovable object, sending its back-end swinging towards the passengers' side.

Impact. Then silence.

Chase blinked, a familiar, fearful black dominant in his gaze. He looked around, head swimming, trapped in by a wall and the car. The tremors ensued with dull realization of what had just happened, and shortly thereafter came the pain. His arm had gone up as if to shield Chase from the impact. Either his elbow or the collision had shattered the window and broken skin, and Chase couldn't bend his arm. Everything else was sore, maybe bruised... he couldn't move his neck very well.

>> "Chase?... Chase!... Chase? It's okay baby, it's gonna be okay. We are fine. I am going to... make a call..."

Chase looked at his mother with fear-blackened eyes, shakily regarding the smoke that lingered from the deployed airbag, to the nonexistent window through which the fumes filtered, and Chase started to cry silently. He was scared and in-shock, didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Mama, I think I broke the window," he mourned. It was a small damage compared to everything else, "I'm bleeding."

He looked into the other car, because the two vehicles were now essentially parallel.

"That guy l-l-looks like H-Hokee."

A steady crowd was accumulating around the cars, people shouting to call 9-1-1 and inquiries of, "Are you alright?"

"Mama, I want to get out of the car," Chase whined, "I think that's Hokee."

Already Chase was scrambling to unbuckle his seatbelt, but when his injured arm wouldn't bend to unfasten him, Chase resorted to his free hand. He had to get out of the car and make sure Hokee was okay. He didn't know how, or why, he just had to.

The radio crackled one last time before the power for the car cut out. The slamming of breaks, screeching of tires blurred into the mass chaos. Shouts of voices ranged in pitch along with intensity, cell phones flew from pockets and purses as the newest news story broke out before several eyes. The Big Apple's civilians quickly dove towards each other, helping another up off the ground holding a hand of a shaken stranger, all awhile eyes drifting back and forth between the cars and the unfortunate few bystanders who got more excitement in their day then they ever wished or desired.

The dreadlock head glued itself to the window as the hissing of his engine whistled in the wind. The cell phone in his head continued to speak, but no response came from the lips of the teenager. His name echoed in the air until the phone line went dead. A low tone emitted from the phone indicating a dial tone. The fingers that once held onto the phone with dear life lost their grip as the phone bounced its way down under the passenger seat.

The knocking on his window from curious New Yorkers pounded like drums. Everything seemed so intense, to loud. If only the world would just stop, cease making noises, just for a little bit while his head calmed down. To tell which part of his body hurt would be like trying to pin point the epicenter of a tsunami with no advanced technology. Crashing wave after wave of pain rippled through his body as other parts numbed under the growing agony overwhelming. Never had he felt this much discomfort, not even the time he fell from the tree outside his grandparents house seemed close to describe how he felt.

Despite the pain penetrating through his body, his skin could feel the warm liquid rolling down the side of his face. To tired to move, there wasn't much he could do. The doors wouldn't open unless he made the effort to unlock them and even that seemed move then he could ever do. His own sticky blood drizzled its way through the matted strands of hair. A brown bead was slowly consumed by a new and unwanted paint. With the side of his face stuck against the window, his eyes flickered again. A gaze of red made it hard to see things, but through the gaze his squinted eyes could barely make out the fuzzy form of a child.

As Hokee's eyes closed one last time his thoughts struggled to hold on. He had been driving down the street minding his own business when had been cut off, then he was heading down a one way street in the wrong direction....Taylor....kid.....small guy....chasing to hold onto his last thoughts, life seemed so fragile and not tangible. Beating drums, beating drums banging a song of welcome, drums...crashing....banging...banging..

Chase.

>>"Mama, I think I broke the window. I'm bleeding."

That made her head spin and clear up at the same time; that's the worst thing a mother can hear, and makes all the survival instincts kick in. Chase needed help and she would get him help.

"It's okay baby" she said again. Glancing outside, she saw people with phones, probably calling 911. Anyone could call 911. Only she could call DocProf. She dialed and waited for him to pick up.

>>"That guy l-l-looks like H-Hokee."

"He's going to be okay" she said, not even looking. Priorities.

>>"Mama, I want to get out of the car. I think that's Hokee."

Damn right he was, who else would be driving around like a madman without her expecting it?!

"Stay there, Chase" she said, still listening to the dial tone "It's okay, I'll get you out soon."

Finally, DocProf did pick up the phone. Gemma told him what happened and where they were. Once that was done, she fumbled with the seatbelt until she managed to struggle free. Getting out of the car, she found herself facing a small crowd of people, all of them ready to help, hands reaching out to steady her. Her head was pounding, her legs were shaking.

"Ma'am? Stay calm, help is on the way. I think you should sit down..."

"I need to get my son out of the car."

Apparently, she looked even worse than she felt, because half a dozend hands pulled her away from the car gently, while a young man opened the passenger side door and leaned inside to get Chase. Gemma's vision blurred again, and then she wound herself sitting on the sidewalk.

"The other car... is he all right? He's..."

>> "Stay there, Chase. It's okay, I'll get you out soon."

"I'm scared, Mama," Chase whimpered, all shivers and teary eyes. He quieted down while she spoke, but was still fumbling into motion. He didn't want to sit still, he wanted to get out of the car. They'd established that it was bad, he didn't want to be in it anymore. This was Chase's tactic-- run away from the car, get out and get away to the best of his ability. He had to see Hokee, he had to get out. He watched as Gemma got out of the car, and was cautioned by a bystander that help was coming, and that she should sit. Gemma was guided away, despite her protest that Chase was in the car, and led out of view. Probably to sit down.

Someone was coming around to retrieve Chase, and Chase flinched away. He didn't know this man, he didn't want this man touching him. His arm spasmed in pain at the quick withdrawal, his eyes still dark and distrusting, and Chase held the wounded arm to his chest, regarding the stranger like a cornered animal.

"It's okay, it's okay," the man assured him coolly, "Come here, kid. Come on, I'll help you out."

"My elbow hurts," Chase asserted, "And I want my mom." He didn't want to talk to this man, he didn't want this man looking at him. Chase wanted Mama.

"Your mom's sitting on the curb, I'll take you to her," the guy murmured, "Come on, can you walk? Be careful, there's glass on the ground."

Chase was still shivering and crying, but he allowed for the stranger to coax him out of the car. He wavered, slightly, his balance decieving him, but the guy put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Chase flinched at the touch again, and his gaze went to the neighboring car, looking in through the window. That sure looked like Hokee, and that sure looked like Hokee's car.

"Is he-?" Chase inquired of the man uneasily, his voice wavering.

"We'll handle it," the man assured him, "See, there's your Mama. Go sit with her, okay?"

Chase nodded, and shuffled over to Gemma, before taking a seat with the aid of the young man who'd come to retrieve him. He watched mutedly as some bystanders went to the drivers' side of the car to open the door. Chase watched closely, huddling to Gemma's side without tweaking his injured elbow in any way.

Far from the scene of the accident there was a team of EMTs circling around the city, Police cars parked out in different locations and more importantly inside a building office the hard working men and woman who sat at the switch boards all day taking a wide range of frantic calls. A normal day for all of them, nothing to stick out or hold it above any other particular day of duty. Lights flipped on as a tap of a button brought news of need filtering through sever sets of head gear. Keeping their composer and calm, the office workers tried to keep the panicked stricken voices calmed. Nimble fingers worked the switches as word flashed through the scanners of needed ambulances for a two car collision.

Idle emergence vehicles shifted into gear as the lights of the city turned to give the right of way to the flashing lights. Sirens blared and warning honks alerted other drivers of needed passage. Police scanners spoke in code as more cars shifted into gear. New York City, The Big Apple.....no different then any other city or town, the same call of duty of trained professionals was needed. This was a front, a battlefield of wits, luck and cheating the cold hands of death. Success came with dedication and heart break with each defeat. Fate was a cruel, cruel on both ends.

Like Moses with the Red Sea, the cars parted and people shifted to the side letting the hands of the gifted through. Red, blue, yellow lights bounced around the building's windows as a helicopter flew over head. With the pilot looking down into the kaleidoscope, his voice filled the radios giving an update of traffic conditions. Blue suits spilled into the street directing traffic away from the cars and other officers screening the damage. In just a few minutes more flashing lights added to the moving colors painting the faces of bystanders.

The backs of the ambulances broke open as EMTs dash about on the ground. Adding to a crowded street, there was soon a fire truck blocking the road as a detour was made to give room. "We got an unresponsive here, doors locked." A mix of personnel were hard at work Swift hands soon had the door popped open as another set worked to free the body from the driver seat. A stretcher rolled up as the body was placed down. Instruments of the response team searched for signs, something and everything to help dictate what to do. Rolling and working, the team bee-lined to their home.

The stretcher compacted down as it was lifted into the back. Like a trail of ants, the medics filed into the back of the ambulance. Pulling an instrument of desperation, the two paddles were placed on his chest. "Clear!" The teenage body flopped like a fish under the shock as the doors slammed shut behind it. No sirens blaring the vehicle dove into the trenches of intense warfare.

Her head cleared up a bit once she sat down. Not enough to stand up again, just barely enough to process what was going on around them. Someone got Chase out of the car; next thing she knew, he was huddled up next to her, bleeding, but alive.

"It's okay Chase" she said, carefully putting an arm around him "We're going to be okay. DocProf is on the way, he will heal you in no time at all. Okay? It's over, we're fine."

As if to tell her just how wrong she was about that, the crowd opened up, allowing the EMTs to go through. They were headed for Hokee's car; whatever happened to the kid, he must have been in worse shape than they were... or he would have run away long ago. Gemma felt her heart sink. Hokee was a pain in the ass, and he just caused an accident out of his own stupidity which was enough for her to want to strangle him... but he was still a kid. One of her kids, even though he left the mansion, and refused to accept any help from her. She felt responsible for Hokee, wether she liked it or not.

She watched them carry him away, her heart pounding in her head, before she could form a coherent thought.

"Hey!" she tried to yell, but she coughed instead. "Hey, don't... don't take him away! We have a healer..."

Too damn late. His life was in the hands of human doctors. That was still a fairly good chance, but it could have been a lot better. Gemma tried to stand, but decided against it since Chase was still clinging to her. The ambulance car rolled away.

"Dammit."

Chase was trembling all over, even when he was at his Mama's side. He just couldn't stop shaking. His mind wouldn't stop racing. He couldn't stop thinking about Hokee, about the crumpled cars, and his own shredded elbow. Even as Gemma gingerly laced one arm around him and assured Chase that everything was okay, that they'd all be fine and the DocProf was coming, the fear in Chase's gaze didn't recede.

Chase realized that they were prying Hokee from the car before Gemma did, and his entire form stiffened, throat constricting in terror. Gemma yelled after them, but belatedly. Hokee was carted into the back of an ambulance, and the vehicle quickly rolled away. Chase looked at Gemma as his mother swore, eyes swimming with tears.

"M-mama, wh-where are they t-t-taking Hokee?" Chase demanded, his face puckering in displeasure, "Wh-why are they taking Hokee away?" His chest tightened as he tried not to cry, but without avail. Fear did wonders to shatter resolve.

>>"M-mama, wh-where are they t-t-taking Hokee? Wh-why are they taking Hokee away?"

"They are taking him to the hospital" Gemma explained as calm as she could, one arm still around Chase, the other hand busy pushing numbers on her cellphone. Calling Jorge.

"He is going to be fine. We are going to go after him and make him fell better. Okay? I'm sorry, baby, it's going to be all right."

EMTs were walking up to them now, taking a look at Chase's arm and Gemmas head. Gemma allowed them to examine Chase, and called Jorge on the phone. It was a mess, not just because they were both shaken, but also because Hokee got taken away, seriously injured, and it would take time before DocProf would catch up to them. She really did not want to deal with all of this alone...

>> "They are taking him to the hospital... He is going to be fine. We are going to go after him and make him fell better. Okay? I'm sorry, baby, it's going to be all right."

Chase shivered, and nodded in response, but he didn't speak. He was crying, but he didn't sob uncontrollably. He was a learned silent crier, and he even burrowed his face in Gemma's side.

The approach of the EMT's drew Chase's attention. Out of habit, Chase shied away from them, more out of the unfondness of being touched as opposed to the fear of shifting. He couldn't shift around his mother, anyways. Miss Gemma pulled out her phone, probably to call Jorge, and the EMT's focused on Chase surveying Chase's elbow.

The peculiarity of his skin made it difficult to determine how bad his elbow was, but it was obviously bad-- the skin was broken and the bone was probably as well. The EMT's surveyed it, asked Chase if he could move his arm, and Chase replied with a muttered and abrupt, "No."

More questions had ensued, about how he'd done such a thing, and this received the short, concise description of, "I saw the car swinging towards up, so I put my arm up over my face, and I broke the window with my elbow."

When the questions were finished, they set to mending Chase's elbow to the best of their ability, at least for the time being. Until they could get him to a hospital. Chase protested that there was a healer-man on his way, but the EMT's didn't listen very well.