Heath never breathed a word about the drugs. Poppy made him swear on his life. She would most likely kill him if he broke the promise.

She said she might bring him over to her shack and they could play some old tunes and get high. Though he was totally against at first, as the days went on, he found he was open to the suggestion.

Unfortunately, he had a week to fight through before that. Therapy managed to distract him from the idea of waiting and waiting but that was only for a little bit.

The therapy sessions were increasingly loosing motivation, on both sides.

Heath had given up on trying to fight his powers and had just accepted them. He was who he was and he couldn't change it.

Every family dinner however, frustratingly reminded him that if he kept that mindset and didn't try to do anything about his powers, his parents would continue to treat him poorly.

He immensely guilty for being him around them. He was meant to be the golden boy now that Caleb was gone, but he'd only proven to be a problem child.

Amongst the days' eventfulness, his mind often didn't return to thought of Caleb until it was too late to investigate or ask questions.

That was until Brandon and Sarah pulled him aside for the second time.

"What is it now?" Heath asked irritably.

"How has the 'investigation' been going?" Sarah asked, smirking playfully.

"Fine," he replied dully. He'd found no further evidence, still had to go and check out Andrea's house and was continually forgetting about it. Absolutely brilliant.

Brandon glanced at Sarah. "I guess the 'you're not allowed to talk to supers' rule has been lifted then?" he said, after Sarah shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Heath asked, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed.

"Nothing - just, you know. Sh*t," Brandon said, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow, skeptical of what Brandon was telling him. "Nothing happened?"

"Except you levitated a bag, grass and locker keys," Sarah said, speaking up,"You know, with your mind. That's what happened. And that's why we assume the ban has been lifted."

Heath stammered his way through what he said next. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"So my sister's a liar now, is she?" Brandon asked, folding his arms.

"No, just might've been a trick of the light. Or her imagination," Heath said, stumbling over his words. He flushed a brilliant shade of red and regretted opening his mouth at all.

"Mhmm," Sarah hummed, looking as though she didn't believe a word he said,"So the ban is lifted because you're a super, correct?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, shrugging.

"I'm just gonna assume that it is," Brandon said, grinning widely,"And besides, who listens to their parents anyway?"

"He did," Heath said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Brandon fell silent as well, for a while at least. "No idea who caused it?"

He shook his head.

Sarah nodded slowly, her hands sliding into her pockets. "You're still searching into it?" she said quietly.

He nodded once more, not really feeling as though wanted to talk.

Brandon thought something quietly, which was an unexpected change from the loud thoughts Heath was so often used to. 'Wish I could've told him I'm sorry,' was what ran through the older boy's mind, Heath only catching the end of it because it was so close to inaudible.

"I gotta go," Heath said, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to leave,"I can hear Poppy calling me."

"Wait," Brandon said, grabbing his shoulder,"Watch out for that Poppy. I don't like the look of her. She seems suspicious."

Heath yanked his shoulder free of his grip. "I think I can tell who's good and who's not, thanks," he said, eyes narrowed.

Why was Brandon warning him about Poppy? She was perfectly normal, unless her superpower was swearing a lot and she never wanted to cause him any harm. He was unnerved by the warning, but offended by it. He could choose his own friends perfectly well.

He couldn't help but bring Brandon up in conversation with Poppy. When the conversation lulled, he couldn't help but return to thought of what Brandon had said about Poppy.

"Poppy?" he said, glancing over at her.

She was chewing on what she claimed were mint leaves and carving circles on the table with her keys. "Yeah?"

"Do you know Brandon?"

"Brandon who?"

"Brandon Jones," he replied, watching her as she scratched another circle into the desk.

"Never heard of a Brandon Jones. I know a Brandon Smith, but no Brandon Joneses."

"Oh," he said simply,"Okay."

"Is he a friend of your brother's?" she asked, causing Heath to accidentally bite his tongue.

"Whaddya mean?"

"You know full well what I mean, you son of a b*tch," she replied, looking at him, a grin spread across her face,"A friend of the brother I have yet to meet."

"You can meet him soon," he lied, his smile slowly slipping from his face.

She rolled her eyes. "How long is soon?"

"A few days, maybe," he said, shrugging,"I dunno." He checked the time, and stood up. "Therapy today. Got to go."

She nodded, sticking out her bottom lip before putting her legs up on the table. "See ya, sh*t-wit."

He smiled as he turned to leave, glad Poppy was his friend.

That smile disappeared at the therapist's office rather quickly.

He just didn't want to talk to anyone much at the moment, but he did co-operate to some degree. Well, at least he tried to.

"Hello again, Heath," Mr. Therapist said, smiling warmly at him.

Heath nodded in acknowledgment and sat down across from the man.

"So, no outbursts of powers since the last therapy session?"

He shook his head.

"But your parents say you were using your powers at school," the man said, glancing at the page on the desk beside him,"Is this right?"

He nodded again, more slowly this time.

The therapist put down his notebook and sighed. "Be honest with me here Heath," he said, leaning forward,"Do you really want to get rid of these powers?"

It was a while before Heath replied. "I don't know," he mumbled.

"Are you conflicted?"

He nodded.

"Why? What things are compelling you to accept your super status and to reject it?"

Heath stared down at his hands on his lap. "I just want to please my parents, I guess. His death wasn't easy on them. And then... I guess I don't want to have to be controlling and subduing something all that time."

"Tell me about Caleb's death."

Heath flinched. He was used to people saying it but coming from his therapist's mouth sounded wrong.

"He died," he said monotonously.

"Yeah, I get that part. How did he die?"

"We don't know," he replied.

"Oh. I see. Where was the body found?"

"Does it matter? You're not a detective, you're a therapist, so stop asking about it!" Heath snapped.

"Calm down Heath. They're just innocent questions," Mr. Therapist said,"They'll do you no harm."

Heath ground his teeth together but didn't let himself have a sudden outburst of anger again.

"So, what caused you to use your powers?" the therapist asked, scribbling something down in his notes. He sat back and watched Heath carefully.

"It was just fun," he mumbled, beginning to tire of everyone asking him about it. He didn't want to have to continuously apologise or own up to everything he'd done.

"Were you trying to impress someone?"

"No," he muttered,"I wasn't. Just some fun."

"'Just some fun could hurt someone you know," the therapist said, noting it down quickly in his book. His thoughts were focusing on what Heath's parents had said to him about the explosion of power in the kitchen.

Heath went silent and chewed on his lip.

"Anyway. Have you gotten the drugs yet?" Mr. Therapist said, looking up at him again.

He shook his head.

"The order might have come late. I'll ensure your parents get them."

He said nothing.

"Well, they should temporarily block or muffle your powers," he said, smiling widely.

Heath didn't smile back.

"I'll send some over to your parents," Mr. Therapist continued,"I hope they get it. I would be reccomending small dosages around this week. I've already told them this, by the way, so you don't have to say anything to them."

"That's great," he muttered, his tone detached and uncaring.

"Anyway, we're almost out of time," the therapist said, glancing at his watch and beginning to gather his books,"I'll see you next week."

Heath nodded slowly and left the room, mulling over the thought of the drugs. Poppy's ones sounded like a hell of a lot more fun than the therapist' ones. And he didn't even know what Poppy's drugs were like.

It was two nights later that he heard a tapping sound on the window. It was just past one a.m. and the sky was pitch black, the street only illuminated by the brilliant white light of the street lights.

He leaped out of bed and raced over the window. Poppy's grinning head met him there.

"Hello, fren," she said, pulling herself up onto the windowsill,"I have come here to deliver an important message."

He smiled widely. "What is this important message, O Great One?"

"Meet me at the corner where I leave you when we're walking home from school. Act like everything's normal, 'k?" Poppy said, beginning to leave.

"Wait, what are we doing?" Heath asked, grabbing her elbow before she left.

She met his eyes and smiled her Chesire grin. "We're going to get high."