White Shadows

Chapter 9 - Test For Echo

***LUCA***

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I see is silvery fog drifting over the city. I sit up, startled, briefly forgetting where I am. Then I relax as last night's memories finally return to me. What I don't remember, however, is Gideon sleeping in the armchair next to mine. So when I inadvertently yawn in his face, he instantly recoils from my morning breath and nearly falls over the other side.

"Sorry about that," I laugh, looking away from him so he doesn't see me blushing.

"Yeah, it's all good," he says, leveraging himself into a sitting position and then getting back on his feet. "I'm worse, I bet."

"I'll take your word for it."

Yawns really do appear to be contagious, because the first thing Gideon does before he gets moving is to do so himself. Then he stretches his arms and scratches his legs. "I'm not used to sleeping in my clothes," he explains.

"Same," Paul says. I think our talking just woke him up.

"Yeah," I laugh at him. "Alex told me you like to sleep in your underwear."

Surprised, Paul asks, "He remembered that?" He starts scratching his head instead. "Huh. I thought, after the way that weekend ended, all the good parts got driven out of his mind."

"He didn't tell me till much later," I say. "We were watching The Flash, and this one guy had no shirt on, and Alex said he looked like you getting ready for bed."

"I think I know which part you're talking about," Paul says. "The other guy was still wearing pants, though."

"I didn't know you watched The Flash."

"I didn't used to," Paul says, walking across the room and knocking lightly on the bathroom door. "I was always more of an Agents of SHIELD guy. But then Aron got me into it, along with Arrow." Since nobody's in the bathroom, he goes in there. I follow suit a minute later, after he's done. Then we return to our seats. We're the only ones here in the living room. Mattia and Kensi are crashing down the hall in another one-room apartment set aside for Annie, and Russell's in his room because none of us other guys wanted to take his bed.

"I dunno about you," I say, stretching my wings through my shirt-slits, "but I'm hella hungry." I pull my phone out of my pants and check my messages. It's not even eight in the morning, and I've already got a shitload of them from Mom, Dad, Marco, and even Gio. I send the same generically reassuring text back to all of them: "Everything's fine. I'm just saving the world, is all. Love you, miss you, be back soon. :)"

"So am I," Paul says, creeping over to the kitchen. "Hmm...I'm not even sure where to find the breakfast stuff, though."

"Check the freezer," I suggest. "There's always toaster waffles. That's universal."

He opens and shuts the freezer, the rubber seal on the door squeaking slightly as it engages. "Shit, there's nothing in here but frozen berries. What does this guy eat, smoothies? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's not something I'd have every day."

"They're among the only things I can trust myself to make," Russell says as he opens his bedroom door and emerges. Not unike Alex, his choice of sleepwear is an old, slightly-too-small graphic tee (advertising "Bluth's Original Frozen Bananas") and plaid boxers. He yawns, his raven-like wings stretching and filling a good chunk of the apartment's main room. "In my family, the real cook is my baby brother, Harlan. He's about you guys' age. Great in the kitchen, but he's still a lonely single Pringle. Probably 'cause he insists on blazing up by the pool on the weekends, instead of going out and meeting other people."