Fitz hearing

A quick, pleased laugh escaped me. Now I could see in the dark. “Just like . . . uhhh . . . I can’t think of an X-Man who I’m sure could see in the dark. Or was that a Nightcrawler thing . . . ? Whatever. It’s still another superpower. There is no spoon. I am completely spoonless over here.”
Fitz stopped in his tracks, turning suddenly, and lifted the camping light in my direction, his eyes wide. He suddenly sucked in a deep breath.
I stopped and blinked at him.
Everyone around Fitz had gone quiet and completely still, reacting to his obvious fear with the instant, instinctive stillness of someone who had good reason to fear predators. Fitz stared down the hall uncertainly, moving the light as if it might help him see a few inches farther.
“Hell’s bells,” I said. “Hey, kid. Can you hear me?”
Fitz reacted, his body twitching a little, his head cocked to one side, then the other, as if trying to trace a faint whisper of sound.
“Fitz?” whispered the little kid with the knife.
“Quiet,” Fitz said, still staring.
I cupped my hands over my mouth and shouted. “Hey! Kid! Can you hear me?”
The color had already drained out of his face, but the second call to him got another reaction. He licked his lips, turned away quickly, and said, “Thought I heard something, that’s all. It’s nothing. Come on.”
Interestinger and interestinger. I stuck my hands in the pockets of my duster and paced along beside Fitz, studying him.


Ghost Story Chapter 13, Page 140-142