Haylee in the kitchen

this scene is literally right after the last one, so there isn't much to say about it. this one is also rather long, so the next will be shorter to insure that i don't totally bore you to death. thanks for reading and enjoy!

We ate the rest of the cereal in the living room. Peter and Haylee crunched loudly in the silence, watching Marc in his usual place leaning against the doorframe, staring at me with concerned and troubled eyes. No one said anything. I kept my gaze on my feet, absentmindedly kicked a few soggy pieces of cereal that had fallen from my hair. I heard the sound of Marc rubbing his palms against his stubble. Suddenly, Peter slammed his cereal bowl down onto the coffee table and jumped to his feet.
"Is anyone going to talk about what the hell is going on here?" he shouted. Marc shifted his feet uncomfortably. None of us spoke and the silence stretched on. "Fine!" Peter shouted again, plopping down onto the couch and folding his arms stubbornly across his chest. "But just for the record: I'm happy this happened. I'm glad I'm not the only freak."
"What?" Marc asked, turning to look at Peter.
"No offense, man, but you did just vaporize a table."
"You can do it, too?" Marc's face was bewildered but somehow also relieved.
"Not make stuff disappear, no, but... other stuff." He trailed off.
"Like what?" his face was eager now.
"A few days ago... before we came here... I sort of... made water move... with my mind," Peter stared at his hands while he spoke.
"Made it move?" Marc asked, "I don't understand."
"We were arguing about coming here," Peter shifted his gaze to the ceiling guiltily as Haylee spoke, "and Peter lost his temper. Then some water in a glass on the table just lifted into the air and swirled around."
"Are you sure it wasn't you?" Marc asked Haylee.
"Yes," they both said at the same time. Peter continued, "It's like I felt it happen, in my head. I saw what was going on and it just clicked that I had caused it. It was almost like I could all of a sudden..."
"Think clearly?" Marc suggested. Peter nodded, both boys looked at each other with bright eyes.
"So that's what the dream was about," Marc finally continued, "you and all the water."
"Are we all having the same dreams again?" Haylee asked, each one of us nodded in turn.
"So what did you do to piss him off in the kitchen, Dakota?" Peter asked, "Did you stab him with a spoon or something?" Marc looked at the floor.
"She didn't piss me off," he muttered.
"What happened?" Haylee asked.
"Dakota..." Marc began, I could feel heat rising in my face. "She... knocked me over with her chair."
"I didn't mean to," I whispered, unable to make much more noise.
"You didn't?" Marc asked, his eyes burning into mine, his eyebrows pulled together in a worried and hurt expression. I was suddenly unsure of what exactly we were talking about. My head swam.
"I..." But I couldn't think of what else to say. He looked back to the floor.
"So you fell into the table and it just... vanished?" Peter asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes," Marc finished.
"Have you done this before?" Haylee asked.
"Once or twice, before you came." We were silent again.
"Well," Peter said finally, standing, "that settles it then."
"Settles what?" I asked, feeling very slow today.
"We've got to go to the desert."
"What?" Haylee and Marc asked in unison.
"The first dream meant for us to come here, and now this one means that we have to go there. We're supposed to go and figure this out, I just know it. I'll get some clothes together. I saw a map in the closet upstairs." He headed across the floor.
"Wait! We can't just up and drive to the desert!" Haylee sprang to her feet too.
"Sure we can. I'll get us there in 16 hours, tops." He turned up the stairs.
"Peter!" Haylee called, looking around at Marc and I for backup. Marc shrugged heavily, his eyes bright with the anticipation of answers, or at the very least of getting out of the house.
"Don't argue with me, Hal," Peter said with a smile, "I might make it rain." He sprang up the stairs leaving Haylee with a frustrated look on her face.
"Well," she finally said, looking at Marc and I, "you'll both stay here where it's safe and Peter and I will come back as soon as we can."
"No chance," Marc said, folding his arms across his chest in a very Peter-like gesture.
"We were all there in the dream, Haylee," I said, "we're all supposed to be there."
"Yeah," Marc added, meeting my eyes with a blazing look, full of meaning, "what have we got to lose?" I was overcome again with the sense that I no longer knew the subject of the conversation at hand. Sweat prickled on my neck. His eyebrows pulled together as we stared at one another and he finally dropped his arms to his sides and looked at the floor.
"Marc..." I began, not sure of what to say but desperate to say something.
"I'm going to the store on the street over to get us some food for the road," he walked to the door without looking at anyone, "I don't think they'll miss much. I'll be back in twenty minutes." He shut the door and was gone. I stood frozen, staring after him.
"Damn, Dakota," Peter called from the top of the stairs, "what did you do to him?"
Ten minutes later, I sat on a stool in the pantry while Haylee made grilled cheese sandwiches. She was cutting mold off of the crusts and I had just finished telling her, with much blushing, what had happened at the kitchen table. I would never have had the nerve to tell her, but I thought that it was best if someone knew the whole story in case it would help us figure out what was happening.
"So," Haylee said as she lit the fire under the burner, "you were trying to kiss him."
"No," I mumbled, ignoring the fresh rush of blood to my face, "I... it... we... he was just so close to my face!" Haylee smiled but there was no judgment in her look.
"So you were trying to... get closer to his face?" She smiled wider.
"I... don't... he smells very good," I finished lamely. She laughed. "Don't laugh at me, I'm losing my mind," I pouted.
"He made a table disappear and you think you are the crazy one."
"Clearly I am since I'm trying to kiss strangers."
"Dakota," she said, searing me with her best mothering look, "you deserve to be happy. You have a strange connection to each other. We all grieved with him and loved him before we even got here and he seems to have persevered through his sadness and taken strength in his visions of you coming to save him. Naturally, you would be drawn to each other. In the pain and confusion that you both have known so recently, how could it possibly be wrong to seek comfort together? And besides," she smiled and turned back to the stove, "he is gorgeous, isn't he?"
"Haylee," I groaned, covering my face. The front door slammed and I felt my heart flutter into my stomach.
"Marc," Haylee called, "come and get a sandwich!" A floorboard creaked upstairs but it was silent in the living room.
"Marc?" Haylee called again, louder.
Haylee turned away from the stove to face the direction of the living room. Unable to see into the space from the pantry, I watched as her face drained to a ghostly white and her eyes widened in fear. "Dakota," she whispered from the corner of her mouth, "shut the door." I sprang to my feet and peered around the frame. Standing a few yards away, with one hand resting gently on the back of a chair, the shadow woman from the highway stood with her red eyes locked on Haylee. The sunlight from the windows drifted through her body, causing her to shimmer and blur as I stared. A small smile played across her lips.
"Haylee," I whispered, my voice choked, "come into the pantry and we'll block the door."
"She'll come after both of us," she shook her head. "Close the door, Dakota."
"I'm not leaving you out there," I said firmly though my knees were shaking.
"Close the door, Dakota," she repeated. I was frozen where I was watching, one foot planted on the floor of the pantry and one foot out, facing the kitchen and the living room beyond.
The woman tightened her hand slightly on the back of the chair she was touching, shattering it to pieces. A moment later she held a sharp spear of wood like a dagger, it's jagged point seeming to draw the air out of the room. She took a step toward Haylee who shut her eyes. Smoke began to rise from the burning grilled cheese. I prepared myself to reach out and pull Haylee into the pantry with me. I took a deep, ragged breath. A crash rang out from the living room and Haylee's eyes flew open. We both watched as Peter sprint into view, swinging his baseball bat inches in front of the woman's gleaming eyes.
"Peter, NO!" Haylee screamed.
"Haylee, GET OUT OF HERE!" He brought the bat down onto the woman's head. It paused there for a moment and then sank right through her misted form. She moved like lightning, still smiling, and slit a hole in Peter's shirt along his shoulder. Blood ran freely from the wound. Haylee screamed and Peter swung the bat uselessly through the woman again and again as she danced away from him. She reached out and wrenched the bat from his hands, throwing it uselessly to the floor. She stepped forward and lifted Peter from his feet with one hand clamped around his neck.
"LET HIM GO!" Haylee bellowed, her voice shaking with emotion. The woman paused and turned to look at Haylee, amusement coloring her face. Peter choked and gasped.
"Let him go," she repeated in a hard voice. A flicker of movement behind her back dragged my eyes away. The fire under the burner was climbing higher and higher over the pan, flames lapping at the air. She took a shuttered breath. Peter kicked his legs viciously and then fell still. Haylee began to tremble. The fire condensed into one small flame, the size of a fist, and lifted itself into the air. It hovered above the stove for a moment and then floated neatly around Haylee's body until it came to rest just inches in front of her heart. Her hair danced away from the heat as the ball of fire began to grow, reflecting wildly in her blazing eyes. The woman simply smiled and lifted Peter higher into the air.
"LET HIM GO!!!" Haylee screamed. A sudden flash of light and heat filled the air. The fire expanded everywhere, shooting forward and to the sides. I raised my arm to cover my face and felt heat sear across the back of my hand. A high scream filled the air and then it was silent. I let my hand fall to my side, coughing in the smoke. I opened my eyes.
Every surface of the kitchen was black. The chairs were singed and a dishtowel hanging next to the sink was still smoldering. Smoke billowed through the open window and the sunlight struggled to break through the swirling clouds of black. I stepped out into the kitchen slowly. There was no sign of the woman but my eyes were dragged across the room to Peter laying unconscious in Haylee's arms on the floor. I slumped forward and dropped to my knees.
"He's alright, he's alright" she whispered desperately, and moments later his eyelids lifted slowly. Haylee choked a sob and buried her face in his chest. He held her close with his uninjured arm and met my gaze with a thin smile. I pushed a piece of singed hair from his forehead. He looked around, taking in the destruction of the room.
"Who lit the bitch on fire?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"That would be your sister," I said, returning his smile, "and you'll never guess how she did it."
"Way to go, little freak," he patted her on the back and she sobbed harder.
We had just pulled Peter to his feet with the intention of getting him to the sofa when the front door banged open and Marc rushed in with fear etched on every line of his face. He froze in the doorway. His eyes flashed from the smoking kitchen, to Haylee's tearstained face, to Peter's bleeding shoulder, to my eyes on his. Finally, he rushed forward and pulled me roughly into his arms.
"Are you alright?" he whispered desperately into my ear. I nodded and he pressed his face against my hair for a moment and then broke away, turning toward Peter and Haylee.
"I saw her running from the house and noticed the smoke," he whispered, staring at the two of them, "I am..." he swallowed hard, "so sorry. She came after you because I was gone and I should never have left you all alone. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
"Stop it," Haylee said, and wrapped her arms around him.
"You are my family now," he whispered, almost silently, his eyes closed tightly.
"We love you too, Marc," Peter said, lowering himself onto the couch, "but I have some HUGE splinters poking through my skin here, and I think I may need a band aid." We all laughed except for Haylee, who burst into tears again and hurried to see to Peter's shoulder.