((Note: the story of Echo occurs many months prior to the current date.  It should be seen as something that has 'already happened.'))

“Do you remember the first time you understood, really understood that you had the gift? That you had magic running through your blood?”

The two were seated by the creek—was it a real creek? Was it a real place? Or was it all in his head?

The water of the creek sounded real. It felt real when Frank dangled a hand in it. Next to him, 'Lauren' had put her bare feet back into the clear waters.

“I...well, I got th' bee when I was twenty-six, twenty-seven. Th' way I understood time means less an' less th' longer this goes. But...yeah. At first I thought I was goin' nuts, an' then th' Templar 'seeker' showed up. Soon after I was trainin' an' suchlike. Th' more I learned, th' more I could do, th' more real it became.”

His companion smiled warmly at him, gently moving her feet to and fro in the creek.

“And when you found out the Bees had picked you for a reason? That magic ran deep in the Calhoun bloodline?”

“Well, that was more recent. Was when I finally came home t' visit. Could feel great uncle Clancy use it durin' our little shootin' contest. Just over a year ago now. Came t' wonder...well. Came t' wonder even more if maybe you—if Lauren—had had it too.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Don'tcha know all this? Y'know, since you...been sittin' around in m'head.”

A gentle laugh.

“Yes...but I'm having you go over all this to make a point, Frank.” She reached over and lightly touched his arm.

“Lauren...Lauren did have 'the magic,' Frank. And she knew since she was three.”

She'd heard Gaia's call. A soft humming in the air; a voice singing to her in the times just before sleep—and just after waking. She couldn't understand the words yet...but Lauren could do things others could not. Before she was ten she could practice small acts of telekinesis, could run just a little faster, jump a little higher, could even on occasion anticipate things before they happened.

Frank grunted softly as he listened. As long as he could remember, his sister had had that 'I know something you don't know' smile. It had been equally endearing and frustrating to him as her older brother.

Turns out it wasn't just that she 'knew.' It was what she knew.

“But Lauren didn't take t' sports th' same way I did. I remember yer nose...her nose bein' in books a lot. And they wasn't spellbooks so don't even start!”

Chuckling at him, his companion continued to explain.

Those academic endeavors might have had nothing directly to do with magic, but her mind felt calmer when she did them. Less 'busy' and more under control. And so she had attacked it with a vengeance as she grew older, as what had seemed like play or make believe slowly became something a little more frightening.

“Mom and dad just thought Lauren had a strong imagination,” she shrugged. “By the time she really understood, really could maybe try to explain, she knew she probably shouldn't. Probably about the time she read about the Salem witch trials...”

“I...I dunno. I woulda known,” grumped Frank. The young woman next to him arched an eyebrow, starting to grin.

“Oh? How?”

Making an exasperated gesture with his hands, Frank blew out a breath.

“Somehow...Clancy. How th' hell didn't Clancy know? He spent a decent amount of time around us growin' up. Shouldn't he have felt somethin' different about her?”

He received a little shrug in reply, narrow shoulders shifting.

“Lauren never knew that anyone but her had it for most of her life. She wondered, sure. But she didn't have any reason to think Clancy might know...so I have no reason to think he might have suspected. There's times he gave her a funny look, but...Frank, she got really good at hiding things.”

Frowning, the Templar picked up a rock and lobbed it into the water.

“I jus'...someone woulda known. Th' Secret World works that way. People with magical talent get found. Sometimes by organizations, sometimes by...nastier things.”

“I don't know. Maybe it wasn't strong enough yet those kind of people could find her. Maybe if she had...” Trailing off, she sighed softly before picking up again.

“Maybe if she'd lived to adulthood a group would have. Heck, Frank. Maybe she would have ended up with the Illuminati.”

She began to grin again, her mouth twitching as Frank snorted.

“Don't even joke about that.” The two sat quietly for several minutes, looking out at the creek. At length, Frank turned to regard the young woman next to him again.

“It's jus'....real hard t' believe. Well. I guess it ain't that hard. It is in our bloodline, I know that now. But...that still doesn't explain you.”

“I'm getting to that, Frank. The older she got, the more she started to do research on the internet on her own. Trips to the library. All of you—mom, dad, and you—just thought she was, you know. Doing her bookworm thing. Mom and dad never even looked at the books she brought home. Neither did you, Frank.”

That grin widened at the sour look on Frank's face.

“Don't look like that. All of you were used to 'shy, bookish Lauren.' It's just what you expected. Anyway...she started to worry more and more. She started to understand—in little bits, in little pieces—there was a Secret World out there. And she was afraid it was going to come looking for the rest of you because of her. She got really preoccupied with how to protect you.”

“Think you got that backwards,” Frank grumbled. “I was supposed to be about th' business of protectin' her. S'what big brothers do.” To his annoyance, Lauren giggled.

“Little sisters can't protect their big brothers, too? Why, Frank, because she was a girl?”

As Frank merely smirked, the revelations that had come to him by this creek stealing away any retort, the brown haired teenager continued, her grin fading away.

“When...when that day came, and Lauren stepped out as that car came racing around that corner—she reached out to you, Frank. One last chance to try to keep you safe. Call it a psychic scream, an innate spell, I don't know...”

She paused as Frank shut his eyes tightly. At the end, about to die, Lauren's last thought, her last concern, was for him. It was touching. It made him proud.

And at that moment it was the ache of an old, grievous wound. The grief, and guilt, and shame he had carried for so long and had only recently put to rest. He felt small fingers slip into his and grip his hand tightly.

“Don't go down that road again,” she murmured close to his ear, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don't.”

Once more, the two fell into silence, holding on to each other. Frank started to understand what this apparition had meant. He was right, she wasn't Lauren...and yet in many ways, she was. He blinked away salty tears as she started talking again.

“When you got...stung? 'Bee'd?' Whatever it was, when that happened, I started to coalesce. Strengthen. Frank, I don't know if I'm like a ward, or a...a computer program, or whatever, but when that moment occurred in your life, I became. I've been trying to do what she wanted—keep you safe. Protect your mind. I'm learning as I do. I'm only about three years old, you know,” she finished, smiling shyly up at him.

“Y'said...sometimes she could anticipate things. Why didn't she know th' car was comin'?” There wasn't any suspicion now. Now, it was just a question for Frank.

The remnant of his sister shrugged helplessly.

“You already know, Frank. Magic isn't perfect, and neither are its practitioners. Sometimes bad things happen, and no amount of magic can stop it. Sometimes bad things just are.”

Still holding onto her hand, Frank nodded to himself.

“So...what went wrong? Th' nightmares? Feelin' like I was losin' myself.”

“Don't think of me like armor plate. Think of me...Frank, you know those air purifiers? Cylindrical, swivel back and forth?”

“Yeah?”

“All of those have filters. You can run the purifier for a long time, but at some point that filter needs to be cleaned or it isn't going to do any good. That's...me. I'm like a filter. And, oh Frank. The things you've had to experience. You spent so much time in Kaidan. I know you wondered often why it seemed almost everyone else felt the impact of the place, the whispers. The taint. At a certain point it was getting...really, really hard to help you.”

Wincing slightly, Frank gave her hand a squeeze.

“Yeah, I think I get that now. There's more, though, ain't there?” As he watched her, she used her free hand to push an errant lock of hair over her ear.

“Yes...when you started having the nightmares, started feeling that dislocation...you started fighting me. Don't blame yourself! I see that look. But you did, unconsciously. Frank, please—just let me help. Let me do what your sister made me to do.”

Eyebrows knitting, Frank turned his gaze to the flowing water of the creek.

“Given I didn't even know I was doin' it, I'm not sure how t' do that.”

“I think you'll know. Now that you know I'm here.”

Sighing heavily, Frank brought his eyes back to her.

“There's some that'd say I'm takin' an awful risk here. You might actually be somethin' horrid usin' me. Hijackin' m'brain.” Though the words were forceful, Frank didn't loosen his grip on her hand, didn't move away from her.

“Some would. Frank, if...if you really think that...I'm like a filter, remember? I can't control you, make you do things. If you want me out, go to the Templars and I'm sure...they can do something. Something to take me apart. Make me leave.”

As she spoke, Frank could see the anxiety on her face.

“I won't lie to you Frank. I'm afraid of that. I'm just getting used to existing. I'd rather not just be flung into...nothingness. I'm not ready for that. But if you think--”

“Naw,” Frank chuckled, squeezing her hand again. “Naw, I don' think I'm gonna do that. Don' think I can. For better or worse...I'm gonna trust you.”

“Thank you.” There was a flutter of that old ache again as she hugged him tightly, and he returned the gesture warmly.

“But...what if someone tried t' force their way in? Not coz I wanted 'em to, but some kinda...attack? What happens then?” Her words about a potential Templar exorcism or the like brought his mind back to the various psychic threats that abounded in the Secret World.

“Like I said, I'm not armor plate. I'm not fool-proof. I'm...betting that someone determined or strong enough could just...I don't know. Delete me? Push me aside? You're not immune to that either, Frank.”

Even as Frank nodded at this information, Lauren's shade added something more, hazel eyes fierce.

“...but if someone ever tried to do that to you, even if they broke me to pieces—Frank, I would hurt them.”

Some time later, Frank found himself awake near the beach, lying in the grass. A seagull was perched on his chest, peering intently at him.

Giving the bird a smirk, Frank shooed it away. “Sorry, pal. I'm not dead.”

Frank knew it was just a bird, but damn, it looked disappointed. Chuckling wryly, Frank got to his feet, and examined his cell phone. It seemed that only five or six minutes had passed since reaching this spot along the shore. His psychic tag-a-long hadn't been sure how much time had gone by in the waking world.

As she had said, she was only three.

Dusting himself off, Frank slowly worked out a kink in his neck.

“Are you there?” He whispered softly to the sky.

Yes.

There she was, a comforting presence in the back of his head.

“I can't call you Lauren, y'know. I been thinkin' of what t' call you.”

Please tell me you're not going to call me Filter.

A wry chuckle.

“I was thinkin'...of Echo.”

He could feel, rather than hear, laughter, and acceptance.

I think I like that. Echo, then.

Frank grinned crookedly, then looked down at his stomach as it started to grumble and protest.

“Huh. 'Bout time I head back an' see if Miz Mihaela has somethin' cookin'. All this comin' t' terms with bein' just as bibbledy weird as everyone else works up an appetite.”