Fifteen years had passed since the worldwide blackout that had created a new breed of metahumans. The metahumans had remained fairly hidden at first, since most had been frightened of their newfound abilities. Even those who did not hide their powers were only known about in small surrounding areas, since there was no effective way of broadcasting information anymore. Now, metahumans were a well-known enigma and a forbidden one at that.

It was no secret that President Sebastian Monroe possessed a certain mistrust towards anyone with powers. If a metahuman revealed their powers in public, they were almost guaranteed to find themselves dead at the hands of a militia member. They were killed on the spot, simply because their powers "posed a threat to the safety of the Monroe Republic".

These excessive precautionary measures had twisted and morphed into an overwhelming paranoia on the president's behalf. He had even executed one of his most trusted comrades, simply because he had falsely suspected him of being the metahuman who had been able to transform into a poisonous gas creature and had attempted to take his life.

"Connor, where did you get that?" Emma questioned as her son walked back into their house with a beaming smile on his face and a whole bag of food in his hands.

"Where do you think? What's the point of being able to walk through walls if you aren't going to use it to your advantage?" Her son challenged.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?" She asked in an exasperated tone. "Do you know what the militia will do to you if they find out what you can do? It's not worth risking getting caught."

"They had plenty of food to go around. We don't. We need it," Connor pointed out. "That makes it worth risking getting caught. Besides, what's the point of having these powers if you can't even show them off?"

"Stealing isn't showing off, Connor. And you're taking that food back," she insisted. "...At least some of it."

He smirked a little. Even if his mother would never in a million years admit it, he knew that she was at least a little relieved that he had found them some extra food.

Emma wasn't surprised when her son came back later than expected. She was used to him getting up to his own mischief or getting distracted by any pretty girl who happened to walk nearby. She only really began to panic when her neighbour showed up at her door looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Great. He probably caught Connor stealing something.

"Did you hear what happened over by town hall today?" Duane asked.

"No. What?" She questioned.

"There were some militia in town and they caught your boy with his arm through a wall," her friend responded apologetically. Emma was left standing frozen in utter shock, so he quickly added on, "They didn't kill him though. At least not yet. Your boy's smart... Or maybe he's just plain stupid. I'm not sure which, but he managed to convince them that he could be of use. Sounded like they were going to take him back to Philly and check what Monroe thinks about that."

Emma should have been relieved, and a part of her was. After all, her son was probably still alive. But that didn't change the fact that he was still at risk and now on his way to be delivered to his father, who he thought was dead, to be used as a weapon. And that was the best case scenario.

Connor wanted to laugh at the handcuffs that they had put him in as he sat on the back of the wagon. The militia must recruit real morons if they weren't smart enough to figure out that the ability to stick his arm through a brick wall probably meant that he could escape their rusty handcuffs.

Still, he left them on for the time being, despite the fact that they itched more than he would have preferred. He didn't want to reveal that he could get out of them before he was sure that he would be able to get away from the armed men. Besides, if he waited things out then he might be able to see if he could make a deal with Monroe and get him and his mom living in better conditions. At the very least, he would be able to steal some things from the bastard and then escape through the walls, no problem. Or so he hoped.

"Miles, how incompetent does our militia have to be to waste time and energy shipping a metahuman back here while giving him the time to escape?" Bass complained. "They should have just shot him on sight. Those are the orders."

Miles frowned. He didn't entirely disagree. He had witnessed himself just how dangerous some of these powers could be, but he still wasn't sure that his friend was entirely holding himself together anymore. Bass was starting to get more and more paranoid and it scared the hell out of Miles, so he decided he'd at least try to talk the other man down from getting even more needlessly violent by pointing out, "Well, apparently the kid did volunteer to help the militia."

"Yeah because he had a gun pointed at him," the other man countered. "We can't trust him, Miles."

"They've got him handcuffed. Lets at least find out what he can do and what he has to say first," Miles responded. "They already brought him all this way. We may as well at least hear him out before we kill him."

Connor had a smug grin on his lips as the door to the room that he had been dropped in opened with a creak. He glanced over to see who was entering, only to have his smile fall right off of his face. Two men walked in, each wearing matching militia uniforms and posture that was clearly intended to threaten him, but that wasn't what had thrown him off.

He recognized one of those men. He'd seen him before, in his house. The last time that he had seen him, Connor had been about fifteen and come home to find a strange man in the middle of an argument with his mother. That had ended soon after he had walked inside though, since his mom had not wanted him overhearing whatever had been going on. The man had left, but Connor had still been worried about it for days. He had never shown up again. At least not until now.

They had barely just gotten into the room and hadn't even asked any questions yet, when Miles grabbed Monroe by the shoulder and pulled him back out the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bass questioned as soon as the door shut behind them again and they were left out in the hallway. "You're the one who wanted to talk to him and now you're running scared?"

"Shut up," Miles warned him.

"No, seriously. That's real intimidating, Miles," Bass continued. "I'm sure he'll fear our authority after that stunt."

"Bass, he's your kid," Miles told him in an exasperated tone.

"He's what?" The other man asked in a tone of complete disbelief. He let out a contorted laugh. "You're out of your mind. I don't have a kid."

"Really?" Miles questioned. "Because I will bet you anything that kid in there's last name is Bennett and he looks suspiciously like the kid Emma had with her last time I saw her."

"What?" Bass asked. "You know about-"

"You screwing my old girlfriend while I was still with her?" Miles interrupted. "Yeah, I know. She told me when she told me that the kid is yours. He doesn't know about you though and she's been keeping it that way on purpose."

"Why would she do that?" The other man questioned. "Why would you do that to me? How long have you known?"

"I don't know. Maybe she kept him from you because you're getting crazier and crazier and killing anyone with powers, meanwhile your own son has them," he retorted. "She thought it would be safer for him and didn't want me to tell you, so I didn't."

"How long, Miles?" Bass repeated through gritted teeth.

"Since he was like fourteen or fifteen," Miles responded, which only seemed to anger his friend even further. Miles looked over to the side, focusing on the flame shining on top of the candle on the wall instead of on his comrade's eyes, as he added, "I didn't know what he was though."

"I'm going back in there," Bass insisted abruptly.

Miles grabbed him by the arm as he demanded, "What? No. What are you going to do?"

"Relax. I'm not killing my own kid."

Connor resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the man with the curls stood gawking at him as if staring at him for long enough would uncover the secret to the blackout and his powers.

"I'm not a zoo exhibit, you know." The other one let out a chuckle at that, seeming to find something amusing. "I recognize you, you know," Connor pointed out. "I still don't like you."

"I thought you were supposed to be a cooperative prisoner," Miles commented.

"Shut up," Bass snapped at him, clearly not finding the comment nearly as funny as his friend had. "He's not a prisoner."

"Really?" Connor asked skeptically as he looked between the two. "I'm not? ...Well then I guess I won't be needing these anymore." He leaned back in his chair and his handcuffs fell to the floor with a distinct clatter as he pulled his arms up to cross them behind his head. "That's better... So are you going to kill me or buy the use of my abilities? Because I have some demands and either you fulfill them or I steal shit and leave you with nothing."

Miles turned to look over at the other general as he insisted, "He might be more full of himself than you are. With an attitude like that, he's lucky he hasn't already gotten himself killed."

"Shut it, Miles."

"You know, the fear-inducing reputation that the big bad Matheson and Monroe duo have throughout the republic really pales in comparison to the bickering married couple reality," Connor informed them.

"I told you he was yours," Miles insisted.

Connor's head whipped around to face the man in question. "I'm his what?"

The general who wouldn't shut up earlier suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words, so it was Bass who finally told him, "You're my son."

Connor let out a laugh at that. "You're insane."

"That was his reaction too," Miles pointed out, which only annoyed Connor even further.

"My dad's dead," he pointed out, this time directing his words over at Miles. "He has been for a long time."

"That's what your mom told you, right?" Miles challenged. "Why do you think that she was so upset when I found out about you?"

"Because you're a militia nut job and I can walk through walls," Connor shot back without hesitation.

"I'm not the militia nut job she was afraid would find out," Miles told him.

"Great, well family reunion's over. I'm out of here," Connor insisted.

Before either of them had the chance to stop him, he had disappeared through the wall and was already on his way out. Or so they thought.

Connor hesitated for a moment though, still half in the wall and with half of his body sticking out into the empty room on the other side as he listened in.

"Nice, Miles. Really. Thanks for making sure you scared him off."

"You did that for yourself. Did you really think he'd find out and just forget about the fact that he came here as a prisoner and barely escaped dying because you're so paranoid about anyone with powers?"

"Hey, I already told you that we weren't killing him. And maybe if you had told me about him a little earlier... I mean, I don't even know his name. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"His name's Connor. And I don't know what you could have done other than not get your hopes up. He clearly does not like you."

With that, Connor decided that he had heard enough.

Connor had already been halfway out of Philadelphia when he had decided to come back. He wasn't sure why exactly he had let himself turn back, but there he was, lurking around at night at the place that he had just escaped from, like a complete idiot. He needed to know why his mother had hidden all of this from him for so long and he knew that he had a unique opportunity now to get a little information about the man who was apparently his father before going back. And if his mother had already been lying to him, then he couldn't be sure that she wouldn't continue to once he got home.

It was dark out, so the risk was at least lower. That let him feel a little less stupid, although he still had no idea where the hell he was going.

After several wrong rooms and a few close calls, Connor finally located the correct room, only to find his father sitting on the bed with a drink in his hand. He was about to slip back through the wall and disappear when his father's gaze flickered up to him and his body froze with one leg still in the wall.

"You weren't supposed to be awake."

"One day as your dad and I'm already a disappointment, huh?" Monroe questioned in a self-pitying tone. "You want a drink?"

Connor hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before he reluctantly stepped the rest of the way into the room and told him, "I guess."

Bass wasn't entirely sure what his son was doing there, but he was glad to at least have the possibility of a second chance. He got up and began to pour a second glass as he questioned, "So what are you here for? To kill me in my sleep? Or just to steal anything that looks valuable?"

Connor took the drink from his father's outstretched hand and looked down at it as he reluctantly admitted, "Neither."

"So then what are you looking for?" Bass asked him as he took a sip from his scotch.

"I don't know," Connor responded. Answers maybe, but he wasn't going to admit to that.

It was silent for several awkward seconds before Connor took a long swig out of his drink.

"So how did I die?" Bass questioned.

"What?" Connor asked in a confused tone.

"Your mom told you I was dead, right? How did she tell you I died?"

"She didn't," Connor admitted. "She just told me that my dad was dead. I've known that for as long as I can remember, but she didn't exactly talk much about you."

"How is she?" Bass questioned. "She doing all right?"

"She's fine. Probably freaking out about the fact that I'm missing though."

"You want a ride back?" Bass offered. "It'd probably be a lot faster than going back on foot."

"That depends. Would you be coming?"

"Yeah. I want to talk to your mom," he responded. Besides, he wanted the chance at father-son bonding time on the trip.

"Don't you have more important things to deal with?" Connor asked. "And what if I don't want you talking to her?"

"I just found out that I have a son. Is it really that surprising that's the most important thing on my plate right now?" Bass questioned. "And I just want to talk to her. If she tells me to leave, then I will. Okay?"

"Fine." Connor gave in. "You can give me a ride."

"Good... You want a bed to sleep in? Or would you rather walk through the wall and sleep outside?"

"I'll take a bed."

Emma hadn't slept in days and she still wasn't even sure if her missing son was alright. She also didn't know if her going to Philadelphia would help things or make them worse, but she was too afraid to leave the house where her son would know to come back to anyways.

She was surprised when she heard her front door open and felt her heart start beating out of her chest as she moved to go see who it was.

A wide smile formed on her lips when she saw her son and she quickly moved to pull him in for a hug. He grinned back as he embraced her.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to use your powers in public?" She questioned as she squeezed him tight. "You scared the hell out of me."

Somehow Connor didn't think that his mom was planning on letting him leave her sight any time soon, considering she also seemed like, if she got her way, she wouldn't be letting him out of that hug for at least an hour. The hug did end though as he heard footsteps enter the room behind him and his mother's attention changed focus to the man standing just inside the doorway.

"So you found out," she said quietly.

Connor wasn't sure which of them she was talking to. He wasn't sure that she even knew that.

"Hello, Emma," Bass told her.

Emma glanced over at her son who let out a sigh. "Fine, I'm leaving."

With that, he stepped through the nearest wall and settled partway through, where he would be out of sight to the other two, as he listened in.

"You've got to know that I would never hurt him," Bass insisted.

She hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer to him as she told him, "Thank you for bringing him back."

"He was coming back either way," he pointed out. "I just gave him a ride. He's a tough kid though. He can look after himself."

Emma wrapped her arms around herself as she asked, "So does this mean that you're headed back now?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "That depends on you. I'm sure Miles can handle things without me for a few days. If you'd let me stay."

She considered for a moment and then gave him a sheepish smile. "I think I'd like it if you stayed here while we figured things out."

A/N: Please read and review! :)