Pressure built up until the bottle cap erupted into the air with an overly loud popping sound. Ian caught it before it reached the apex of its flight and took a sip of the newly opened beer. With a nod of approval for Laurel’s taste in microbrewery, he took a longer pull.

“That was pretty impressive.” Alexis looked up from the cutting board where a stalk of celery was quickly being deconstructed by her slow but methodical knife work.

“Only works on this kind of bottle cap.” Ian smirked. “You don’t want to know how many bottles with twist on caps I’ve blown up over the years.” He was taking another swig when he suddenly became aware that she was regarding him with an appraising eye. “What?” He gestured to the refrigerator. “Want one?”

She shook her head, “Nothing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink. You didn’t do it at the Academy.”

“I was under eighteen while we were at the Academy.”

“That never stopped Laurel and me.” Alexis said with a mischievous grin. She picked up a bell pepper and began subjecting it to the same fate as the celery.

“I was the good, quiet slacker, remember? Hiding booze from the RAs would’ve been too much work.”

Alexis smiled, scrapping a combination of chopped celery, pepper and onion into a skillet to sweat. She wiped her hands on a rag and came over to drape an arm around him. “Don’t overdo it though,” She gave him a light hug. “Today of all days, we don’t need your breath smelling like…” she sniffed, “coffee?”

“Coffee flavored beer.” Ian put down the bottle to let his arms circle her waist. “Laurel orders it from Cleveland – even when she’s getting depressants, she can’t stay away from caffeine. Don’t worry though; I’m just having the one.”

“I suppose every little bit helps when you’re getting ready to tell someone that their kid—“she was silenced by a gentle finger placed over her lips.

“Pretty much,“ Ian said quietly, “but keep your voice down so the kids don’t hear.”

“Why not tell them?” Alexis asked, keeping her voice low for his sake. “I know Laurel’s super smart and this was her idea, but it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Notice how little drama we’ve had in the last couple of weeks? And I don’t mean from the lack of evil Academy operatives, cybernetic dogs, dark wizards and well meaning but dangerous visitors from another planet.”

“That last part didn’t happen.” Alexis pointed out.

“Just covering the bases.” Ian assured her. “Anyway, what were we supposed to tell the kids? ‘There’s a chance your parents might be showing up for Thanksgiving?’ Can you imagine how tense everything would be around here?”

Alexis nodded, hesitantly. The past two weeks were as close to normality as it came for the residents of Freeland House. The uncertainty of when or if their parents would arrive and what that would mean for their status and friendships would have made Freeland House a very uncomfortable place. At the very least, it was a kindness to offer the kids this last bit of normalcy before things were turned upside down.

Ian smiled at her and inclined his head toward the stove. “I’m not the only one that’s a little on edge about this, I see.”

“What?” Alexis asked, walking over to check on a boiling pot of rice. “I figured that a nice, homemade meal would be good for… today.” She finished lamely.

“Well,” Ian took another sip of beer. “for one, this may well be the first time we’ve really used the range here. If it hasn’t been re-hydrated and/or microwaved, it generally doesn’t get eaten in this house.”

“We had toast and eggs this morning.” Alexis defended.

“Doesn’t mean that the stove’s been used. We never really cook in the non-scrambled eggs sense. Hell, I’m not sure Laurel knows how and I sure as hell don’t. You’re the only one who does and you’ve been busy.” Ian concentrated his power to float the beer bottle to the table as he came over to offer help as she pulled pre-made seafood stock out of the refrigerator. “Which brings me to the second point; you cooked for all three of us in school and whenever you were nervous about a test or some guy,” He smirked at that part, “We knew because you fixed yourself your favorite comfort food: your dad’s gumbo.”

“I’m not nervous.” Alexis sniffed, dumping the stock into a pot. “I just thought this would be a nice meal to have with… our guests. I could have done a Sunday dinner with chicken or something, but Thanksgiving is tomorrow and they’re going to see enough of poultry then.”

Ian shrugged and stirred the simmering holy trinity of Creole cooking with a few inexpert swipes of a fork. “Okay then. You’re not nervous. You’re all business. If that’s the case, then I’m free to be nervous enough for the both of us.”

Alexis gave him a wry grin. “Thanks for that.”

Laurel took a deep, hopefully cleansing breath. She had gotten off the couch and dashed to the door before the last tones of the bell had died in the air. People called her a genius and assumed that she always knew what to do in a given situation. The reality was that she really had no idea how to face the parents whose children she had rescued and sheltered for months. She couldn’t hope to project what this day would hold.

Her hand was grasping the handle and opening the door before she could think better of it. Cold, November air wafted over her, the chill helping her mind focus on the task at hand.

Five people stood on the front porch, arrayed in a rough semi-circle behind a sixth. An Arabic woman shivered in cold she was not accustomed to, her flowing purple garb bunched up under a heavy wool jacket, which in turn was covered by a man’s overcoat. The owner of the coat, an Arabic man with a wiry physique, stood beside her, one arm over her, rubbing her opposite arm as if they would keep her warmer than the layers she was covered in.

Beside them, a tall man with black hair, matching moustache, and dark glasses turned around from looking over the grounds. His overcoat flared out as he turned, showing a store brand suit and tie beneath. He regarded Laurel with suspicion even as a short, kindly looking woman with dark, reddish-brown hair gave him a look that told him to hold his tongue. Concern lined her features even as she delivered the non-verbal waning. A girl in her early teens with shockingly red hair regarded the adults with a bored, sleepy look.

In front of all of them was a tall black man in a dark, tailored suit and overcoat. The first touches of grey gracing his close cropped hair. He saw Laurel’s pensive glance around the assembled group and gave her a reassuring smile that seemed to tell her everything would be okay.

“Daddy!” Laurel smiled, embracing him. She had always been close to her father and eight months of separation made her temporarily forget the ‘all business’ manner she had hoped to assume.

“Kitten.” William Brant returned the hardy hug with enthusiasm. “It’s so good to see you again in person.”

The clearing of someone’s throat brought them out of their familial reverie. Laurel snapped back to her business persona immediately, backing up from her father a few steps. She didn’t have to look to see who had interrupted them.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just been a while… and you don’t want to hear that.” She said quickly. “Can I assume that these are Raimi and Atalaya Utt and Thomas and Sandra Kaine and their daughter Talia?”

“Tammy.” The girl offered.

“I’m sorry, Tammy, “Laurel corrected. She glanced up at her father. “No one else came?”

Mr. Brant shook his head. “I couldn’t locate the Taylors. The Forresters declined Brant Industries’ offer for a special holiday weekend in Mayfield because they had prior engagements.”

Laurel nodded. “That’s understandable. We only had two weeks notice to give. What about...”

“The McAllisters came to Mayfield, but they won’t see their daughter.” Mr. Brant’s face darkened.

Laurel grimaced. She knew Cyn had no love lost toward her family, but didn’t know it was mutual. More importantly, her father indicated that the families knew what was going on now – that would make things easier. “So, they know why they were asked to come?”

“The Kaines already put enough together.” Mr. Brant explained.

“That’s right.” Thomas Kaine stepped up. “My daughter saw her brother – who is supposed to be at an Academy workshop in Los Angeles, fighting a pair of comic book rejects in Mayfield/ Then two days later Brant Industries is sending us on a vacation we ‘won’ from a contest we never entered. It doesn’t take a genius.” Anger made his voice shake. “But Mr. Brant only told us we’d be coming here for our kids.” He inclined his head to the Utts. “We want the whole story.”

“Of course.” Laurel said, steadying herself. The concerned expressions on the Utts’ faces had almost driven her to tears herself. “Please, come in.” She stepped back to offer ingress just as a din arose from the upstairs commons.

There was a riot of laugher, followed by Warrick vaulting over the stair railing with Isp’s help. Something in a red and white wrapper was clutched in a triumphantly upraised hand. “Sorry, Cyn, last one!” he called over his shoulder. He only looked up as he reached the bottom of the stairs. At the sight of his parents and sister, he froze in his tracks. Isp and Osp likewise ceased their activity upon recognizing their host’s loved ones.

“Big mistake!” Cyn shouted with glee. She didn’t know why he had stopped; she just assumed he was trying some stupid trick. Before he could do whatever it was he intended, she pounced him, knocking him onto his belly. They fell together with Cyn landing on his back. Unwrapping the fruit pie she’d recovered from her quarry during the fall, she taunted. “Ha Ha! I wi— Ow! “

She found herself flat on her back as Warrick shrugged off her weight and sat up. “Mom? Dad?” He blinked in disbelief.

“Warrick.” Sandra Kaine said softly. “My boy, my boy…” She started forward only slightly ahead of her daughter.

Mr. Kaine took a deep breath as his wife and daughter descended upon his son before turning to Laurel. “Now would be a good time to start explaining what’s going on here. We’ve gotten letters every month saying our son was In Los Angeles. This isn’t Los Angeles and this doesn’t look like an Academy facility.”

“Believe me, that’s a good thing.” Ian said, coming in from the kitchen with Alexis hot on his heels.

“And who are you?” Mr. Kaine demanded, “Who are any of you?”

“They’re good people, dad.” Warrick said, managing to get a word in over his mother’s fussing and his sister’s stream of questions, most of them involving Alloy. The tentacles, being just as happy to see them, were trying in vain to converse via a series of frantic gestures. “Ms. Brant, Mr. Smythe and Ms. Keyes saved us from…” He thought about how best to explain everything that had happened. “Ms. Brant can say it better, dad, but the Academy is the bad guy.”

“So it’s true?” Mrs. Kaine asked. “All the things that man, Tyler was saying on TV?” She gave her husband a pointed glance, “Oh my god, Tommy, we sent our son to those monsters! We may have even sent Tammy!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mrs. Kaine.” Alexis offered. “They had us all fooled. I was a teacher there and I only happened to stumble upon what was really going on.”

Atalaya Utt had heard enough. “Where is our son?” She asked loudly. “Mr. Kaine’s son is here and in fine condition, but where is my Kareem?”

Laurel, having had her spirits bolstered by the Kaine reunion suddenly felt her previous case of nerves rising. “Mrs. Utt, Mr. Utt. Kareem is here… upstairs. Please, come with me.”

“You cannot call him?” Raimi Utt asked, lips pursed. “Why are you suddenly filled with such apprehension? Is something wrong?”

“Please, do not hide this from us.” Mrs. Utt implored, “We only wish to know what has happened to our son. After the news of what happened at the Academy, we were fearful of the worst. Then Mr. Kaine was speaking of his son and we felt that there was hope…”

“There is hope.” Laurel assured them. “A great deal. Please, come with me. You can speak to Kareem yourself.” She turned to her father. “We’ll talk later, daddy.” As she led the Utts upstairs, she looked to Ian and Alexis. “Could you two explain things to the Kaines?”

“Of course.” Alexis nodded.

Aside from Tammy asking Warrick if Alloy ever fought Dr. Vicious from Taskforce: Earth, silence fell on the group downstairs as they watched Laurel disappear upstairs with the Utts. Mr. Kaine was the first to speak. “I don’t want to intrude on them, but why do they need to go upstairs to speak with their son?”

“The short answer?” Ian asked, “The Academy hurt him. Bad. And we’re still trying to figure out how and why.” He glanced at Warrick and his sister. “I’d rather not go into the long answer with kids around.”

Warrick got the hint. “Yeah… Hey, squirt, wanna got upstairs and check out the games I’ve got here? Ms. Brant gets all kinds of imports.” He was more than glad to avoid hearing another painful recounting of Project Tome’s still nebulous aims and the possible fate he narrowly dodged. “Is that okay, mom?”

Mrs. Kaine looked between he reclaimed eldest child and the two people who had apparently been caring for him. She nodded cautiously. “Yes, honey, go on. Your sister missed you more than anyone. You two need to spend some time together.”

Warrick nodded. “God, it’s so great seeing you all again. I missed you all so much.” He looked down to where Cyn had pulled herself into a sitting position on the stairs. “Coming, Cyn?”

The last few moments of chaos had given Cyn’s brain cells time to hold congress and confer on the vast amount of new information that had just been imposed upon her. Warrick and Kareem’s parents had arrived. It was almost certain that they wouldn’t consent to their kids being cared for by four people under thirty in an abandoned bed and breakfast. That meant Kareem and Warrick would be leaving. And once they were gone, how long would it be for Melissa and Juniper to follow? How long would it be until Freeland House, the Descendants and everything else she’d found in the past year, were gone?

She shivered just before a new thought came into her head. They wouldn’t call just Warrick and Kareem’s parents. For all of Laurel’s talk of not forcing things onto her, Laurel believed strongly in family, even in the face of clear evidence that not all families were created equal. Peering through a curtain of white hair, she looked past Warrick to the man she was certain was Laurel’s father by virtue of his face being plastered on Brant Industries promotional material for as long as she could remember. “The McAllisters.” She asked him. “You called them too?” It took an incredible effort and a bit of shapeshifting to keep her voice even.

Mr. Brant slowly nodded. “We did. They came to Mayfield. But… I’m sorry, Cynthia.”

“That’s such an awful thing to do to your daughter.” Mrs. Kaine huffed, giving Cyn a motherly look of concern. “Are you alright dear?”

Cyn nodded, and stood up with Warrick’s help. “No problem, Warrick’s mom. I’m not surprised, really. In fact, I’m really glad I didn’t have to see them.” She ducked her head to Tammy. “Come on, I’ve got a ton of embarrassing stories to tell you about your big bro and I bet you can share a bunch too.” With that, she bounded upstairs, followed closely by Tammy.

Warrick followed slowly, noting his mother’s worried look. “S-she’s fine mom. Really. Cyn’s my best friend and… yeah, I understand why she feels the way she does.” With that, he disappeared upstairs. Mrs. Kaine shot Alexis and Ian a questioning look.

“Cyn never talks about her family life to anyone but him.” Alexis admitted, “And he won’t break her trust. But whatever it was, it made her really dislike them.”

“And you still called her parents?” Mr. Kaine asked, putting an arm around his wife.

“We aren’t her parents, they are.” Alexis said, “It may seem like a bad idea, but we don’t have the right to do otherwise – it’d be kidnapping.” She motioned to the kitchen door. “But you need to hear the whole story. Please, come into the kitchen. You too, Mr. Brant.”

-- • --

“Stasis cells are only rated to be safe for a maximum of six days.” Laurel was explaining. The Utts listened to her with concern on their faces as she led them across the upstairs commons and into the wing containing Kareem’s room. “But some of the kids were kept in stasis for almost a decade. As far as we can tell, Kareem was in stasis for three years.”

Mr. Utt wrinkled his brow. “I do not understand why you speak as if our son is fine while your mind is filled with dread.”

“Because it’s complicated, Mr. Utt.” Laurel paused at Kareem’s door. “Your son’s powers – obviously inherited from your empathy—managed to protect his mind even after the stasis chamber damaged his body.” With shaking hands, she opened the door.

Kareem’s body lay on the crisp, white linen of his hospital bed, surrounded by all manner of medical technology put in place to preserve his life functions. A halo of metal and black rubber surrounded his head, taking constant measurements of his brainwave activity.

Mrs. Utt gasped sharply and spoke a short, exclamation in Arabic.

“The condition of his body is stable.” Laurel reported. “All the atrophy from the stasis is completely recovered. The problem, once again stems from Kareem’s powers.”

Mr. Utt squeezed his wife’s hand and coaxed her into the room after Laurel. His eyes didn’t leave his son’s prostrate form. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“At some point after we rescued him and the others from the stasis the Academy had him in, Kareem projected his consciousness into the Astral Plane… a sort of…”

“We know what the Astral Plane is, Ms. Brant.” Mr. Utt assured her. “With concentration, I myself can see into it.”

Laurel nodded and skipped over that bit. “He projected onto the Astral, but he isn’t able to re-enter his body anymore. We don’t know why. I thought it was because of his injuries or a possible psychic injury… but I’ve ruled out all of them.”

“You said we would be able to speak to him.” Mrs. Utt said. “But how can we when he is comatose and trapped on another plane?”

“You will be able to speak to him.” Laurel assured her. “With his telepathic assistance, I was able to design a machine that lets him communicate with the material plane via plasma screens like this.” She indicated a screen that was mounted to the wall. “He just needs to be present in the room.”

The moment she said this, the screen sprang to life, showing Kareem in the ever present rosy tint of the Astral Plane. “My apologies, Mother, Father, Ms. Brant. I was waiting for a proper explanation to be given for my condition before revealing my presence.”

“I understand Kareem.” Laurel nodded.

Mrs. Utt let out an excited shout. “Kareem! My son, I have waited to speak to you for so long! I knew the person mailing us was no you, but I had no proof.” She looked torn between rushing over to the screen or to the inert body. She chose to hold Kareem’s material hand while speaking to the Kareem on screen. “The person who said they were you was nothing like you.” Tears formed in her eyes.

“I did not know about anyone posing as me.” Kareem said apologetically, “But Ms. Brant told us all that it was a possibility. I am just very glad that I can finally speak to you again – even as I am.”

“Is there a way to cure you?” Mr. Utt asked. “I will do whatever it takes.”

“Ms. Brant has the full resources of Brant Industries at her back, Father.” Kareem assured him. “I am well taken care of. If there is a way to fix my situation, she will find it. I have faith in her.”

Laurel lowered her head. She wished that she had as much faith in herself as Kareem put in her.

Mrs. Utt’s joyful smile at the sight of her son faded at the idea that his condition might not be curable. Still, the look she directed toward Laurel was not unfriendly. In fact, it had a touch of reverence in it. “My son is like his father.” She began, “They have a gift of seeing the core of a person, beyond what they simply show people. If he has faith in you, I will also have faith in you.“

Ian sat at the head of the kitchen table, his gaze shifting between the inquisitive stares of Mr. Brant and the Kaines. He really wished that he’d at least finished his beer before this. The thin haze even such a small amount of alcohol was preferable to the relative clarity with which he felt the discomfort welling up in him.

“I honestly don’t know where to begin.” He let out a long breath. “Even after almost a year, we honestly don’t know a lot of solid, concrete facts about the Academy or Project Tome.”

“Can you are least tell use what this ‘Tome’ is?” Mr. Kaine asked, “I’ve never even heard of it.”

“They wouldn’t want you to.” Ian replied. “We learned from General Pratt—“

“Excuse me,” Mr. Brant cut in. “You know General Pratt personally? My daughter didn’t tell me that.”

“Not ‘best friends’ personal.” Ian said. “We met, we exchanged information. He wants to bring Tome down just as much as we do. See, Tome was this Cold War era think tank that cannibalized all the World War II data from the experiments that are supposedly the origin of people like us; psionics. Or what Pratt calls us, descendants.”

“They were tasked with finding out what worked and what didn’t.” Alexis picked up the slack as she went around the table pouring glasses of water for everyone. “The original plan was to use the data to make super soldiers. The government didn’t want to give up on it even after they thought everything failed.” Her task complete, she headed for the stove to continue meal preparations. “Tome tried doing the same thing with animals and everyone thought those failed too.”

“Thought?” Mrs. Kaine asked.

“We ran into some nasty uber-dogs this past Halloween.” Ian said, “Courtesy, as we found out later, of Project Tome.”

Alexis nodded, inhaling the steam rising from her seafood stock. “Tome pretended their experiments didn’t work and went underground at the turn of the century. The next anyone heard of them, they were pulling the strings behind the Academy and the Enforcers.”

“How did you find all this out?” Mr. Kaine asked, “If this group is so super secret and evil, how did three average people put all the pieces together?”

“I’m a bit fuzzy on this as well, Ian.” Mr. Brant added. “Ever since what happened to you at Langley, I’ve had my staff scouring the globe for information on Tome and we haven’t found anything less than fifty years old.”

“Wait, what happened at Langley?” Mr. Kaine blinked, “Isn’t that where the Academy is?”

“Well, the headquarters at least.” Ian replied.

Alexis nodded. “I was a teacher there. Back in May, I went into the archives to get some enrollment information for this reporter; George something; anyway, I found a memo that talked about how they were placing students in stasis for something called data retrieval. I went to the Director, but before I got to him, an Enforcer stopped me and demanded I turn the file over.”

“What’s data retrieval?” Mrs. Kaine asked.

“We have no idea.” Ian answered truthfully. “But we couldn’t just leave kids trapped in glass coffins waiting for it either. When Alexis came to us – Laurel and I – in Seattle for help, we jumped to it – but not before the Enforcer Prometheus burned down my house.”

“They burned your house over a memo?” Mrs. Kaine’s eyes widened. “I suppose that really was all the proof you needed that they were evil.”

“That plus the beating Prometheus gave me after we rescued Warrick, Cyn, Melissa and Kareem.” Ian took a long drink of water.

“Wait,” Mr. Kaine said, “Prometheus is Jonathan Edward Tyler, the guy that testified before Congress, right? It looked like he was on your side?”

Alexis ignored Ian’s indignant snort. “He was, after he learned what was really going on. General Pratt contacted him personally after we told him about the facility in Florida we discovered. A place where Tome was performing experiments with something called bio-mapping on another group of psionic kids.” She tactfully left out the trepanning.

“That’s horrible.” Mrs. Kaine looked horrified. “Warrick always talked about bad guys and people being needed to fight them. I thought it was just prelate against criminal fantasies he read in comic books. I never imagined that there were people that… that vile in real life.”

“There’s plenty – too many.” Ian said. “That’s why I hope you’re not too upset with us over the whole ‘Alloy’ thing. He’s told us about his time as Damascus and your reaction to it, but these aren’t petty criminals, they’re people specifically targeting him and we figured they need to know how to defend themselves.”

It was Mrs. Kaine’s turn to sigh. “We weren’t upset with him for being Damascus. I was upset that he kept it hidden from us. And we were both very concerned with the Whitecoat telling us that his inexperience was doing more harm than good. That’s why…” her voice grew shaky. “That’s why we sent him to the Academy.”

Mr. Kaine placed his hand over his wife’s and they were both quiet for a moment. “We just wanted to make sure that he knew enough to be safe.” He said, allowing himself a bitter laugh. “I guess we were wrong in that.”

“You had no way of knowing.” Alexis said. “And he did end up somewhere where he is learning to control his powers and becoming the prelate he wanted to be. Even if I was initially against it, Life Savers, Inc was a godsend to this city.”

“Yeah.” Ian said, “A lot of people that didn’t even know him will miss him when he goes home.”

“Silver!” Tammy laughed as a handful of paper clips flared as Warrick’s power entered them. Blue sparks and black motes of detritus swarmed over the deforming fasteners as they became a lump of silver which then flattened into a blank coin.

“Oh, you make money for your little sister, sure.” Cyn said sarcastically from where she sprawled across his bed. “But your best friend asks for a couple of thousand dollars…”

“This is for demonstration purposes only.” Warrick smirked. “What next, Tammy?”

“Rubber!”

“Uh… not a metal, but thanks for playing.” Warrick said, “you haven’t had chemistry in school yet, have you?”

There was a soft knock at the open door and all three looked up to see Juniper standing there with Melissa in tow. “Guys, did you hear people going into Kareem’s – oh my…” Juniper caught sight of Tammy who waved enthusiastically.

“Those would be Kareem’s parents.” Cyn informed her, not bothering to get up. “And this,” She indicated Tammy. “is Warrick’s little sister.”

“Are you two prelates too?” Tammy asked, her analysis of her brother’s new powers forgotten. She had completely new psionics to investigate.

“Parents?” Melissa asked, looking back out into the hallway. “Our parents are here?”

“You could say that.” Juniper addressed Tammy’s question as she came to sit on a corner of the bed not occupied by Cyn. “I’m Juniper.”

“Just Warrick’s and Kareem’s.” Cyn said to Melissa. “Mine are in town too, but luckily, they didn’t want to see me.”

“Oh, we don’t know that.” Juniper tried to offer comfort where none was asked.

“Yes we do.” Cyn nodded, “And it’s good because I don’t want to see their ignorant gobs either.”

“Language in front of the little sister…” Warrick chided.

“'Gobs' isn’t a bad word.” Cyn shot back.

“Bad enough.”

“I don’t even know what a gob is.” Tammy rolled her eyes, “Why would I use it?”

“The kid’s smart.” Melissa commented, sitting in the window box. “How old is she?”

“I’m thirteen.” Tammy smiled broadly. “I’m going to get my powers soon and then, I’ll be a prelate like you, Warrick!” She snatched the silver coin from her brother’s hand and examined it. “Maybe I already have them and just need to try them out…” She started concentrating on the coin as hard as she could.

“Not so fast, squirt.” Warrick laughed. “You heard what the Whitecoat said; I needed to learn more about my power. Otherwise, I’d be doing more harm than good. Same goes for you, got that? You’ll need training just as much as I did.”

“Do.” Cyn corrected, playfully, causing everyone to snicker.

Tammy’s face fell. “But… the Academy is all bad guys, right?”

“Afraid so, kiddo.” Melissa groused, bitterly.

“So…” Tammy reasoned, “I can’t go to them to learn when or if I get my powers. Where do I go?”

The others looked at each other in puzzlement for a few moments. They never thought about it. By the time they had gotten over the initial shock, Laurel had helped them learn more about their powers and then Alexis had started training them. That wasn’t an option to hundreds, possibly thousands of psionic kids in the US anymore. The Academy had been the end all and be all of psionic training. Now it was gone.

Warrick frowned and chewed his lip. “I don’t know, Tammy. We’ll figure something out though.”

Cyn sighed and once more sprawled out on the bed, getting ready to return to relaxation. But Melissa’s next comment guaranteed that she’d find none.

“You’ll have to find something for yourself too.” The red head said, looking out the window. “After all, Warrick, once you leave here there’s no other trustworthy training program in the country.”

Cyn’s eyes fluttered open. That was the thing she’d been afraid to hear since she had landed literally ass first among the Kaines. They weren’t going to leave their son in the company of strangers while he was being hunted by a dangerous organization. They would go underground. He and Kareem would be gone. And soon after them Melissa and Juniper.

Without thinking, she was on her feet. “I almost forgot… something.” She said lamely. “I’ll be right back.” She was out the door before anyone could reply; leaving the others to shoot askance looks to one another and Tammy to continue her attempts to transmute the coin.

-- • --

Mr. Kaine let out a long breath as he sat back following Ian and Alexis’s recounting of events that had transpired around his son and his new friends since their rescue from the Academy. For simplicity’s sake, the pair had omitted the involvement of magic and skin-riding twelfth century witches. If Warrick chose to share those details, explaining them would fall to him.

“That’s a lot to take in.” he admitted, raising a hand to rub his temples. “I started thinking of scenarios that made things make sense the moment Tammy told us what she saw on the news and then a multinational corporation gives us a suite at the Dornez Hotel for nothing and I realized that things would be far more complicated. Still, this… this is something I never imagined happening.”

“We can understand that, Mr. Kaine.” Alexis said. “To be honest, sometimes we feel a bit in awe of everything that’s happened too. But we try to just do the best we can – to find ways to deal with everything being thrown at us. We’re just sorry that the kids had to be part of it.” She was putting the finishing touches on the meal she had been creating.

“And you’re sure it isn’t over? I mean the Enforcer Corps is being dismantled, and I can’t imagine the Academy getting away with anything now that the public eye is on them.”

Mrs. Kaine shook her head. “Not that any child of mine is ever setting foot on one of those campuses again.”

“Of course not.” Mr. Kaine said. “I’m just saying that with all the media attention and Congressional hearings… Project Tome is dead now, isn’t it? That’s why you finally contacted us.” He looked hopefully at Alexis, then to Ian, not seeing the affirmation he was looking for.

“Most likely not, I’m sorry to say.” Ian looked anywhere but into the faces of the worried parents. “Tome isn’t just a single organization. It was funding the Corps and the Academy, yeah, but those were just heads of the Hydra. They may have lost their method of covertly kidnapping students and losing the Enforcers certainly means they lost a lot of muscle, but they’re not down for the count. They’ll be back.”

“And they’ll be coming for the kids.” Alexis said in a small voice. “Like we said, for whatever reason, Warrick, Cyn, Melissa and Kareem are a high priority target for them.”

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Kaine asked, “But if this isn’t over and the kids are still in danger, why did you risk calling us?”

Alexis toweled her hands off and came back from behind the counter. “You have to understand, Mrs. Kaine, that we only delayed calling you because we were afraid of exposing where we were. You were certainly being watched and contacting you would have sent up red flags.”

“But,” Mr. Brant offered, breaking his long silence, “The episode with the Redeemers proves that they know where you are now. No more reason to not call the parents.”

Alexis nodded. “That’s why we called you. What to do from here is your decision. I know it’s a hard thing to be part of, but it wasn’t our right to keep you in the dark any longer.”

“I can appreciate why you did what you did.” Mr. Kaine said, “But you never considered that we wouldn’t know what to do either in this situation.”

Mrs. Kaine gave him a sharp look. “What Tommy means to say is that we’re in the same position as you. Of course we’re part of this; we were part of this the second our boy became part of this.”

“You learn the value of family fairly quickly with a family name like mine.” Mr. Kaine gave a nervous chuckle.

“But, what do we do?” Mrs. Kaine asked. “Are these people going to be sending their Enforcers to our apartment now?”

“They may, and until the first time we met Prometheus, I’d have said that was too brazen for them.” Ian frowned. “But there are other options; General Pratt mentioned some foreign programs that have already been smuggling young psionics out of the country…”

“But how do we know we can trust them?” Mr. Kaine blurted out. Everyone else nodded mechanically in response.

“You can’t.” Ian said, “Alexis has had some correspondence with the Brunswick School in England, but they think she’s requesting teaching guides for an Academy center, so they could go either way.”

Mrs. Kaine nodded. “I understand. This isn’t going to be an easy decision to make, but we need to speak with our son about all this first. Is there somewhere we can talk in private, as a family?”

Alexis nodded. “Of course, the property extends all the way down to the lake. That’s as private as if gets this close to Mayfield.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Kaine said. “And for what it’s worth, thank you for taking care of my oldest.”

“Of course, Mrs. Kaine.” Alexis said, “And… if you all decide to stay for dinner, you’re more than welcome, I made enough expecting at least half the kids’ parents coming…”

Mrs. Kaine gave the younger woman a warm smile. “I believe we’ll take you up on that.”

Laurel managed to close the door behind her before the tears started flowing. Drawing ragged breaths, she started down the hall toward the stairs.

“Things didn’t go well?” Melissa asked. The biting tone she would normally ask such a question with was oddly replaced by genuine concern. “Were they upset?” She was just coming out of Warrick’s room with Juniper bringing up the rear. A flash of red hair rounding a corner up ahead clued Laurel in that Warrick and his little sister were heading down stairs.

“I can’t imagine that they’d be upset with you.” Juniper said. “Anyone that raised Kareem had to have been at least as understanding as their son is, right?”

“My parents were optimistic, uplifting people when they weren’t doing exactly what people expected of them.” Melissa said dryly.

“No, it wasn’t that.” Laurel said solemnly. “In fact, I wish that they would have shouted at me, cursed me – been anything but as sweet and understanding as they’ve been.” She rested her back against the wall and felt herself sliding down it. “It’s just that standing there, watching them talking to Kareem in the same room as his… as him…” She finally found herself sitting on the floor. “I should have done more.”

“There wasn’t a lot more that you could have done.” Juniper said.

“Of course there was, if I’d only taken the time.” She waved a hand in the air as if to conjure the time back. “All those experiments with the Book of Reason, designing the Descendants’ uniforms, do you know how much time I’ve wasted just playing videogames? They emigrated all the way from Iran to make a better life for their son and I can’t even get him back on this plane.”

“Kareem wouldn’t want you to abandon everything else for him.” Juniper sat down next to the older woman.

“Those uniforms did come in handy with Morganna and the inugami. Not to mention the Redeemers. I mean, I’m not sure that Ian and Alexis would have survived the first Morganna… thing without them, much less everything else that’s happened.” Melissa admitted.

“And about the videogames,” Juniper said, feeling a little guilty now for her part in that. “You were playing them with Cyn and Warrick and I. I can’t speak for them, but that really made me feel more at home.”

Laurel gave the brown haired girl a pat on the head. “That’s sweet, but I’m old enough to deal with my own mistakes.” She sniffed unhappily. “I should be the one talking to you this way. I mean I never even got the chance to tell you why your parents couldn’t make it…”

“You couldn’t find mine.” Juniper said simply. She gave a quick smile at Laurel’s questioning look. “We moved a lot back before I went to the Academy. Don’t worry, I’ll find them eventually and until then, they can take care of themselves.”

“And my parents?” Melissa asked slowly.

“We didn’t tell any of your parents that you were here.” Laurel explained, more calm now. “We just told them they won a contest and offered them a free trip. Once they were here, we told those that came. Your family didn’t accept the trip. They already had plans to visit family in Canada.”

“My uncle Ted.” Melissa nodded. “Good to know they didn’t simply forget about me, I guess.”

“So only Warrick and Kareem’s parents ended up coming.” Juniper noted. “Its sad that Cyn’s parents didn’t come to the house. I would have liked to have met them.”

“I don’t…” Laurel blinked, doing a quick mental inventory. “Where is Cyn, by the way?”

Melissa shrugged. “I don’t know, we were talking about what Warrick’s going to have to do about his powers when he leaves here and she suddenly just up and left.”

“It was about five minutes before Alexis called up here and told Warrick and Tammy that their parents wanted to talk to them.” Juniper added.

“She’s not going to take any of this very well.” Laurel sighed. Her own problems were temporarily forgotten.

“I don’t see why.” Melissa folded her arms across her chest. “She’s the one person here that would do just fine on her own. She could walk out of the house right now, shift into someone else and never have another problem with the Academy again.”

“That’s not the point for Cyn.” Laurel stood up and straightened her clothes. “She’s the most social person here. She needs people and from what I can tell, her parents aren’t going to be there for her if the rest of us disband.” She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and nodded to the two younger women. “You two should get ready for dinner. Alexis worked pretty hard on making a special meal for today and you should enjoy it. I’ll go talk to Cyn – wherever she ran off to.”

A cab pulled away from the curb and headed toward Mayfield with Cyn sitting in the back holding a duffel bag. The cabbie gave her a semi-concerned look through the rear view as she scowled into the seat back.

Cyn hated when she felt like this. She had spent the majority of her teen years secure in the knowledge that she was effectively invincible and completely independent. Then she had come to Freeland House and realized how much she’d been missing out on having been deprived of friends at home and from her self imposed exile among her classmates at the Academy.

Her best friend may well be gone before she even got back. Even tempered, non-judgmental Kareem would be gone soon after. She doubted Melissa’s parents would abandon her no matter how time-lost she was and then Cyn would be without her special ‘project’. Now that she thought of it, she’d even mourn Juniper’s exit, no matter how much her rampant optimism irritated her.

The worst part was that she wasn’t capable of stopping it. Actually, that wasn’t true. She figured that with enough conniving and subtle shapeshifting, she could, in fact, manage to keep everyone together. To her shame, she had even begun half forming a plan to do just that the moment the parents had arrived. But despite how much she liked to insinuate that she was capable of such things, she knew she hadn’t the right and would never have gone through with it.

She didn’t know whether to commend herself on her honorable decision or to admonish herself for weakness. What she did know was whose fault her current mindset was. For the first decade or so of her life, they had instilled in her the cutthroat, loner attitude that had kept her from forming any relationships even when she was on her own at the Academy. They had robbed her of a normal childhood where these sorts of situations would have already happened and the hurt would have been less. Not to mention all the pain she had endured after her powers had manifested.

Her family didn’t want her and even on the deepest, most primal level, she didn’t care. She didn’t want them either after all she had been through. Whoever had said ‘blood is thicker than water’ had never met the McAllisters. She thought she knew who her real family was now. Maybe she’d even manage to stay around with Ian, Alexis and Laurel – but first there was something she had to do. Most would call it revenge. She called it closure.

Quietly, she unzipped the duffel bag and touched the suit she’d ‘borrowed’ from Ian’s closet. With luck, it would be back where it belonged before anyone noticed. Suits were too complicated for her to replicate with her powers comfortably. She figured that being comfortable would make what she planned to do easier.

“I’ll say this, “ Lee McAllister said, helping himself to a third chicken wing courtesy of the Dornez’s room service facilities. “Little sister has connections to get us set up like this.” He was just under six feet tall and very lean with long, auburn hair he kept tied back away from his face.

“You’re ruining a good time gabbing about her, Lee.” His father, Sean shook his head, trying to keep an eye on the basketball game playing out on the giant screen TV. “Just enjoy this shit as long as we’ve got it and ignore the guilt trip they’re trying to lay on us over the little freak. She’s nineteen now, she’s not our problem, even if she wants to be.” The elder McAllister was the same height as his son with grey touching his own short, red hair. The early stages of a beer belly threatened to erupt from under his shirt.

“Yeah, Lee, it’s a free ride, everything paid for. I’m going to take this gift horse for all its worth! Tonight, me and Liz are gonna hit this town like the fist of an angry god. What the hell was Brant thinking giving us limitless credit on this trip?” Robert, Lee’s younger brother was his father’s spitting image except for the sea of freckles that covered his nose and his overly large ears.

“You ought to check out the talent in this town yourself, boy.” Sean ordered more than suggested, reaching for a piece of chocolate cake. “You’re closing on thirty and you’ve got no prospects? I’m starting to wonder about you…”

“I’m not gay.” Lee defended with a sniff. “I just don’t like any of the girls back at home.”

“Well good thing you’re not at home, huh?” Sean pointed out. “Get your ass out there and enjoy the night life! You know your momma wants grandbabies – don’t make Rob do all the work with Liz – he’s your younger brother and he’s already married. You should be showing him how it’s done.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll go out tonight.” Lee shrugged.

“No guessing about it.” Sean said. “No one’s going to come to you. You got to get out there.“ At that moment, there was a knock on the door. All three men stared at each other long enough for another knock to come. “Cheryl!” Sean bellowed. “Get the damn door!”

A middle aged woman with dark hair, touched with some red and some silver bustled out of one of the other rooms of the suite, a paperback novel still clutched in one hand. She offered no comment and didn’t even look at the trio as she went to answer the door.

It opened to reveal a dour looking man with dark hair and slightly tanned skin. He wore a plain, unassuming suit and sunglasses, but still conveyed that he was glaring from behind them.

“Heh.” Robert snickered. “Someone did come for Lee and it’s a man.” He slurred the last word as his father socked him none too lightly in the gut.

“Cheryl McAllister?” the man asked, looking as if he was avoiding looking directly at her. She nodded and he continued. “Good. Agent Richards, Child Services Investigation. I’m here to speak to your husband.”

-- • --

“I’m Sean McAllister.” Sean declared in response to Agent Richards’s query. He put his cake aside and stood up. “What the hell is all this? Child Services? There’s not a person in this suite under eighteen.”

“I’m here about your daughter, Cynthia.” The agent brushed past Sean’s wife and into the room.

“She’s gotta be over eighteen too and that means she’s not my problem either. In fact, I haven’t seen her in probably two years.” Sean sniffed. His sons were both fully turned around now, watching with identical looks of confusion.

“She… does write.” Cheryl offered.

“Be quiet, Cheryl.” Sean barked. “This is between him and me.”

“She does?” Richards half yelped, obviously surprised. Cheryl only nodded, one eye firmly kept on her husband. The agent didn’t take long to recover from being blindsided. “What does she say?” He followed her gaze back to Sean and let out a small growl. “He can’t do anything to you while I’m here.”

“She doesn’t say anything.” Sean spat, coming around the chair he’d previously occupied. “And if she did, it wouldn’t be any business of Child Services seeing as the little freak is legal now.” He motioned toward the door.

“There’s no statute of limitations on child abuse in this state, Mr. McAllister.” Richards said with a flat, dangerous quality to his voice.

“Then lucky we don’t live in this state.” Sean sneered. “And besides, that wasn’t a child. I don’t know what she,” he jerked his thumb toward Cheryl, who recoiled as if struck, “did while she was pregnant, but she birthed a freak. Right from birth, she was a damn albino – white hair, pasty skin and these horrible purple eyes. If it were up to me, we’ve have given her away, but the one time my wife argues about anything…” he made a half snarl under his breath to finish the sentence.

“That doesn’t excuse what you did.” Richards said levelly.

“Stupid girl didn’t know her place.” Sean shrugged as if that explained everything. “All the time, she keeps talking about her little friends at school. Lying of course; nobody’s going to be friends with something that looked like her.”

“And you told her that.” The agent’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Every time she ever mentioned her friends, you told her they weren’t her friends until she started to believe it.”

“Hey,” Lee shouted out in defense of his father. “even if she wasn’t lying, eventually the kids would smarten up and ditch her later. He was doing her a favor.”

“You shut you mouth!” Richards barked. “I’ve heard more than enough about how her own brothers treated her, but I’m afraid there’s no law for that at that age.”

“It was truth, pure and simple.” Sean raised a hand to silence his boys before they joined the fray. “And discipline around the time she turned twelve. About the time she started having women’s issues, it was the same time she started getting smart mouthed. If your girl ever talked back to you, you’d give her a slap in the mouth once or twice too.” He smirked darkly. “And maybe a couple times just when she was thinking about doing it. Put the fear of God into her.”

“Heaven forbid I choose a method that doesn’t make me look like a psychotic ape.” Richards said.

“You’re lucky you have a badge, pal, or I’d give you a taste of the back of the hand too. You’re sounding a bit like her.”

“Lucky I have the badge then, you slack-jawed Neanderthal.” Richards replied with a completely straight face.

From the other room, where she had retreated to wait out the confrontation with her daughter-in-law, Cheryl’s mental wheels turned. Agent Richards had never produced a badge…

Sean’s eyes practically smoldered at the verbal jab coming from a man who could put him in prison until he was senile should he throw a punch. “Anyway,” he started through grinding teeth. “It wasn’t long after the first couple of times she really got on my nerves that I realized she didn’t bruise anymore. Didn’t take long after that to learn she was one of those psionics.”

“She was twice the freak we thought she was.” Robert guffawed.

“Psionic powers are inherited.” Richards glared at the man. “If your sister has the genes, so do you and there’s a good chance that at least one of your spawn will have powers too.” That shut him up.

“What? So it’s my fault she’s a freak?” Sean’s eyes grew wild. “Hell, it’s probably Cheryl’s fault.” He gave a derisive laugh. “I guess being an albino’s genetic too?”

“Actually yes.” The agent said, feeling a slight twinge of horror at the ignorance just uttered.

Sean blew a crude raspberry. “Yeah, sure. Hey, we tried to make the best of it – tried to get her to cover up the albino part – but the spiteful little bitch kept her hair white just to piss me off. She didn’t even care if I hit her after that. It never seemed to do anything to her.”

“We did find out that giving her a shock will make her spaz out though.” Robert chuckled. “Not that dad had time to run back and forth over the carpet whenever she needed to shut her mouth.”

“I’ve heard enough.” Richards’s voice had granite in it. “You all are monsters. You,” he indicated Sean. “you’re a fat, disgusting tick on society’s ass. Even while you brag to a goddamn federal agent about how you destroyed your daughter’s life, you’re cramming cake in your filthy gob that you wouldn’t have if not for her. You don’t even have any remorse! You just think its fine and dandy because you felt like it at the time!”

He pointed a finger at the boys. “And everything I said about this slobbering pig goes for you two. You’re literally photocopies of a big, hairy ass and you couldn’t be happier. I only hope god has mercy on any woman you meet and grants the sense to her that he didn’t to her,” he indicated Cheryl, “And they plant a knee between your legs instead of letting you father more little punching bags for grandpa.”

Finally, his eyes landed on Cheryl herself. “And I’m serious. Why the hell do you take this crap? Sure, he’s never laid a finger on you because he’s never felt the need to. You do whatever he says and luckily there was poor little Cyn for him to take his anger out on. Grow a damn spine! No jury in the world would convict you for manually insuring he can’t breed again!”

“I’ve had enough outta you!” Sean roared. “I don’t give a shit if I go to jail; this’ll be satisfying.” He drew back his fist and struck out at the agent’s nose.

“Really?” Richards easily sidestepped the sloppy punch, passing it easily over his shoulder. Fingers like steely talons clutched the offending appendage, using it to pull Sean into a Richards’ own punch.

Sean let out a gasp as the agent’s fist drove all the air out of his lungs. Richards stepped past him and drove a double axe handle blow into his kidney, driving him to the floor. “You don’t get to hit me.” Richards said and added silently ‘never again’.

The room was silent save for Sean’s pained groans as the rest of clan McAllister tried to process what had just happened. Richards crouched down over Sean in a way that in retrospect, his wife realized a normal human probably could not have achieved.

“Cyn doesn’t want to see you. She never wanted to see you, but some people thought you may have been a better person than we both know you are. Maybe she’ll live happily ever after once today is over and maybe everything will fall apart – but she’ll always be glad she’s doing it without you being part of it.” He said to Sean, but made sure Cheryl could hear. With that, he straightened, adjusting his sunglasses. “Ma’am.” He said to Cheryl. “I’ll give you all a choice. Make up something but be out of Mayfield by tomorrow noon and I won’t haul him in. If I were you though, I’d leave him for the feds.”

With that, he strode out of the room.

Cyn was pushing Ian’s suit back into the duffel bag when the elevator door opened, revealing Laurel. She couldn’t help but gasp as she forced the zipper closed on the bag.

“I figured you’d make your way here.” Laurel said, keeping her voice even.

“Hooray for being a genius.” Cyn slurred, stepping out past the older woman. A slim hand caught her arm and she didn’t bother trying to break free. Training sessions already left her with ample examples of Laurel’s fighting skill.

“Cyn…” Laurel started, “I heard. Most of it anyway. I came back down stairs when the punching started.”

“You didn’t try and stop me?” Cyn quizzed. “I could have popped claws and then…” she didn’t finish.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t have.” Laurel said. “You’re better than him and your brothers. You know when to stop and a couple good kidney shots are the least of what he deserved after all the things he said about you.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d expect you to say.”

“I wouldn’t have, normally.” Laurel admitted, leading Cyn through the lobby of the Dornez. “But today, I realized how precious family really is.” she held up a finger to Cyn’s prepared response, “And I realized what a sin betraying that is. I’m sorry for calling them, Cyn. I didn’t know how bad it really was.”

“I never told you. I never told anyone all that.” She fixed her gaze on Laurel. “You won’t tell anyone else will you?”

“Of course not, Cyn.” Laurel said “Everything that happened up there is between you and me and Ian’s suit. Daddy was going to end their stay here for their refusal to see you anyway. As they exited to lobby onto the marble steps, Laurel put an arm around the Cyn. “Let’s get home. I’ll make up some excuse for you if you just want some time alone.”

“Are you kidding?” Cyn asked, “I’ve had nothing but time alone and I may have a lot more coming up. Alone is the last thing I want to be right now.”

Laurel smiled and patted the girl’s shoulder. “That can be arranged too.”

Mrs. Kaine wasn’t one to disbelieve anything out of hand. Being the mother of a child who could turn an iron crowbar into a festive knickknack at thirty paces and being a native of New York City, which had an abnormally high concentration of psionics, products of advanced science and just plain bizarre phenomena had taught her that bizarre didn’t always equate to fictitious.

But her son’s description of a nine hundred year old witch that had possessed one of his new friends to run amok at a zoo before being defeated in a climactic battle on a bridge was pushing even her healthy suspension of disbelief. She could accept the psionic villains sent by the Academy, and the cybernetic dogs. The foe in powered armor was down right mundane as she saw one or two daily on her way to work at her ad agency. But magic was something that required more proof.

That Warrick was able to produce newspaper clippings was a shock even though she was confident that her son was normally honest.

“Cool…” Tammy breathed, reading over the article about the fight on the West Truman Bridge. The whole family had retired to one of Freeland House’s unused rooms after determining that it was too cold to walk down to the lake. “So who’s Void-storm? Have you met her?” A mischievous glint came to her eye. “Do you like her? The emphasis was blatantly heavy on the ‘like’..

“Huh? No. No!” Warrick’s denial became more vehement as his sister’s implication became clearer. “That’s Ms. Keyes. And it’s Darkness.”

“Why do they call her Void-storm here then?” Tammy asked, completely forgetting she was supposed to be teasing her brother.

“Because the papers like to make up names.”

“You’d think they’d wait for the prelates themselves to come out with a name.” Mr. Kaine observed.

“They have to come up with something to use in the meantime.” Mrs. Kaine replied.

“To be fair,” Warrick said, “She wasn’t really a prelate then. She didn’t like the idea of us doing the Life Savers, Inc thing either.”

“What changed her mind?” his mother asked.

“The Ladies of Ragnarok concert.” He recounted. “She’d forbid us from doing our prelate thing, but some tech-head named Maven – she’s in a mental hospital now – she attacked the band and we couldn’t just sit back and do nothing…”

Mr. Kaine put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m proud that you did the right thing, son. I know we were hard on you for the whole Damascus situation, Warrick, but it was more the fact that you didn’t tell us first. And the Whitecoat was right; you should have learned more about your powers before trying something like that.”

Warrick beamed and nodded. “Yes sir. And we have been getting training here. That’s part of how we were able to fend off the Redeemers. And next time; I figure it won’t be so rough.”

“Next time?” his father asked.

The Kaines’ eldest child set his jaw and nodded slowly. “I can’t even start to tell you how happy I am to see you again and honestly, I wish things could go back to normal and I could just come home and everything will be alright.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “But if I go now, guys, it’s not going to be all right. The Academy and those Tome guys are still after me and if I go home now… I’m afraid of how far they’ll go to get me.”

When no one in his family spoke up, he continued. “And they need everyone they can get here. The Redeemers were just the opening act. I can’t abandon them now. Partly because Tome wants me for whatever evil crap they’ve got planned. They’ll do anything they need to get them closer to getting me and the others back. I’ve got to help beat them and end this once and for all.”

He looked hopefully at his parents, suddenly aware that he was out of breath.

“That was so shiny!” Tammy grinned. “That was like something right out of Taskforce: Earth! We need to find the Whitecoat and tell him or something. Maybe you can be his sidekick!”

That broke up the tension in the room and everyone was forced to chuckle at her assertion.

“I’m not surprised to hear you say that, honey.” Mrs. Kaine smiled. “Your father and I talked it over while we were waiting for you. You still need training with your power… especially the new… thing you can do; and the Academy isn’t an option any more. So we decided that if you really wanted to stay, we weren’t going to stop you.”

“Really?” Warrick blinked. “I didn’t think you’d really say it was okay. I know what I have to do – what I want to do… but I don’t want to lose touch with you guys again.”

“We’ll figure something out. Both you and Mr. Smythe speak in glowing terms at Mrs. Brant’s genius.” Mr. Kaine said, “And we’re not about to let you go either, son. Look, the details can wait; the head of Brant Industries has given us a full weekend with all expenses paid and a posh hotel room with fully staff privileges – I think we should all enjoy this as a family.”

Tammy clasped her hands together with a huge grin on her face. She had her big brother back and, slightly more important in her thirteen year old mind, a weekend of getting exactly what she wanted all the time. “That’s something we can all agree to!” she shouted gleefully.

-- • --

“It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Keyes.” Mrs. Kaine was saying. She shrugged on her coat before continuing. “And thank you so much for taking care of Warrick all this time.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Kaine.” Alexis was unprepared when the shorter woman locked her in a full on hug.

“You’re good people. Feeding and clothing someone else’s children. Fighting for them.” Warrick’s mother’s eyes were growing watery. “It was a miracle that people like you came along for these kids here. You’re my son’s guardian angel.”

“Mom’s waxing religious.” Warrick observed. His mother, a repeatedly lapsed Catholic, rarely spoke of miracles in reference to anything that wasn’t accompanied by at least two to three angels or at least a shower of sparks.

“The cab should be here.” Mr. Kaine said as his wife repeated her thanks to Ian and wrapped him in an equally huge hug. He had already said his thanks to the Freeland House heads, albeit with less hugging and more hearty nods and hand shakes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the limousine?” Mr. Brant asked.

“We don’t want to rush the Utts with their son.” Warrick’s father replied. “No, a cab will be just fine.”

Mr. Brant nodded. “Unless you and your family have other plans, I’ve got Christopher DeWalt on staff and ready to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for your family and the Utts back at the Dornez.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Mrs. Kaine smiled. “Thank you all so very much again for everything you’ve done.” She motioned for her children that it was time to go.

Warrick shouldered his hastily packed bag for the weekend and opened the door just in time to pull the knob right out of Cyn’s hand. “Oh, sorry, Cyn.” He said as the white haired girl jumped back, almost running into Laurel.

“It’s alright.” Cyn shrugged, and then her eyes fixed on the bag on his shoulder. “Y-you’re going? Now?” her gazed dropped to the floor as she frowned. “Of course you’re going now, there’s no reason to hang around. I really just wish you would have at least said goodbye, you know? If I were leaving, I’d call you!”

“Hey, whoa!” Warrick threw his hands up defensively. “Why do I need to say goodbye?”

Cyn shot daggers at him. “What’s wrong with you, Kaine? You’re pulling up camp and leaving and you don’t even think it’s even necessary to say goodbye to who I THOUGHT was your best friend?”

“Pulling up…” The gears turned in the young man’s head. He wasn’t dumb by any stretch, but catching subtext was something he was just bad at. Then again, Cyn was no good at concealing subtext, so it evened out. “Oooooh! You thought – Cyn, you think I’m going for good?”

“You’re not?”

He shook the small bag. “I’m not exactly packing a flatbed.” He grinned wryly, but the seriousness on Cyn’s face made the grin fade quickly. “But no. I’m spending the weekend in the city with my family. I’ll be back like on Monday. Hell, you could visit; the Dornez is on our usual patrol path after all.”

Cyn blinked dumbly for a few seconds. “Oh.” She managed. “Then all the outrage and pissyness just now? Yeah, that didn’t just happen.” She smiled and gave a nervous little chuckle. “You’re really staying? What about Kareem?”

“The bad guys are still out there, Cyn.” Warrick said, his turn to be serious. “We need to be ready for them and we need to stick together. Like family.” He put an arm around his little sister for emphasis. “I figure Kareem’s parents will agree.”

“We understand that.” Mr. Kaine offered. “I imagine that’s why my great grandfather added the ‘e’ and changed the ‘c’ to a ‘k’” He seemed deeply amused at his own joke.

“And understanding that, we’d be more than happy to have you join us for Thanksgiving.” Mrs. Kaine offered. “All of you.”

The offer was far too sincere to turn down.

Atalaya Utt stroked the hair on her son’s unconscious head and looked over to the corner in which her husband had situated himself. He sat with his legs folded beneath him, hands resting on his knees. His eyes were closed and a serene look was on his face.

“I do wish I was able to see what you are both seeing…” Mrs. Utt. commented. She watched her son and husband’s astral forms on the monitor on the wall. Without Laurel in the room, she was speaking Farsi. It would have been rude to speak in a language her host could not understand.

“I am sorry, mother, but I have never attempted to project a person without empathic ability and I do not want to make a mistake with you.” Kareem apologized in his mother’s native tongue.

“I understand your concern, my son, but for the moment, I feel less than helpful.”

“Nonsense, Atalaya.” Mr. Utt said in English, he refused to speak his native language since leaving his motherland for America. There was bad blood he rarely spoke of. “Our son would not be nearly as adept at navigating the Astral without your studies, which is a blessing considering his present condition.”

“My studies feel less than helpful at the moment as well.” Mrs. Utt pouted. “I never predicted the things Kareem is saying he’s sensed.”

“Perhaps once you see it, you will understand more.” Kareem offered.

“Yes, though I wish I could locate the source of the astral storms as well.” his mother replied. “You said that Ms. Brant’s devices never pinpointed it?”

“No, but in all honesty, it worries me less than this. When you see it, you will have to agree. We are nearing it now. I will try to send the signal to you.”

For a moment, the view panned past Kareem and Raimi where they stood on the flickering expanse of the Astral that overlapped the west end of Mayfield. The dark shadow of a bridge loomed above them, occasionally gaining a detail or two as the ebb and flow of the plane altered its astral form.

Then the view drifted down, past the undulating miasma that symbolized the water. There, the rose colored hue of the plane was interrupted by a spark of colorful light no further around than Mrs. Utt’s thumb.

“The emotion coming from it…” Mr. Utt gasped, “it is like nothing I have felt before… degrees of thought I never thought possible… this has to be…” He left the rest unspoken as his wife knew exactly what he referred to.

“Are you certain?” she asked, “Even if their theories are sound, I still have my doubts that the Astral can be torn.”

“I have felt the material plane breeched firsthand.” Kareem offered. “It is possible and I cannot deny that the emotions here are alien.”

“And you say that Ms. Brant is working to study it already?” Mrs. Utt asked.

“Yes, she is doing her best to find a solution. She believes that the breech was caused by the Morganna person I spoke of.”

“We should contact Dr. Tang.” Mr. Utt said. “He is the one that theorized it.”

“He’ll get his people involved.” His wife grimaced disapprovingly. “I think this is better left in Laurel Brant’s hands for now. Tang and his group will learn about it soon enough if that is what you fear it is.” She shook her head sadly. “Now I understand why you feel you can do better here instead of returning to California with us, my son.”

End Issue #13