Phoebe's powers made her feel invincible, but the human mind - even a super-human mind - can only pay attention to one thing at a time. She had taken down four very well-trained men. Five. Eight. But it wasn't enough. There was another behind her. Three more in a helicopter hovering over her head. A helicopter! Why were these evil creeps always so rich? She realized too late that the prick she felt on her neck wasn't a bullet graze, it was a tranquilizer dart.

The first sensation when she woke up was the cold of the metal shackles - her feet and hands were bound tightly together. She blinked against even the dim lighting, until she could finally open her eyes and see the cellar around her.

It was warm and humid around her mouth, something she couldn't understand until she figured out it was a mask of some kind to keep her from using her heat and ice breath. She gave them a whirl anyway and felt the intense cold hit the inside of the mask and bounce right back against her face, and the heat was no different. Her telekinesis was useless without the ability to direct it through her finger. The only thing she was pointing at was her other hand. She concentrated and sent out an undirected burst of energy – a few random items stirred and rattled slightly but nothing that would help her escape.

So The Trickster had caught her in the end. She had failed as a superhero, and now she was going to die, underground and alone. He was probably just waiting for her to wake up so he could monologue a little and rub his victory in her face before he killed her. She was totally helpless. And when she was dead, he would go after her family and then the Hero League, so that there would be no one to stand in the way of his reign of terror. It was all her fault. She wasn't good enough. The League had given her guardianship over Hiddenville, and she had told her parents that she could handle it, but she couldn't

Phoebe couldn't tell how much time had gone by. There were no windows, just a single light bulb. Perhaps it had been days. Her family would notice she was missing, but they wouldn't know where to look.

A few hours later, The Trickster appeared. She shouted curses at him through the mask, but everything she said was muffled. He was alone, not even bodyguards with him. It made her despair even more – he was obviously completely confident that his restraints and devices would hold her. He had always been so careful in the past.

She was right – he had come to gloat. After five minutes of dwelling on how devious and clever he was, he pulled out a gun and put her in the crosshairs. A gun – how pedestrian!

Phoebe blinked back a couple of tears and closed her eyes. She didn't want to die, but what she was thinking about was how much she wished she could say goodbye. She needed to tell her parents once more how much she loved them. Chloe, Billy, and Nora all deserved to know that she believed in them. And Max…If she knew it was her last chance to tell him something, what would she say? What could she say, that would give him any sense of how much he meant to her?

She heard it first – a crackling. Then she felt the cold wave. Phoebe's eyes flew open to see The Trickster frozen in front of her, his frosted gun still leveled at her forehead. Max came running over from the base of the cellar ladder and stopped in front of her.

"It's you," she whispered, though she knew he wouldn't be able to understand her. He had even suited up!

"You look like Hannibal Lecter," Max teased, deadpan.

Flooded with relief, Phoebe leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes again. She had successfully held back the crying during those darkest moments but in her joy she felt the tears streaming down her face and she couldn't stem their flow.

Max used his telekinesis to rip the mask off her face, then he froze her shackles and shattered them with a kick. Phoebe leapt to her feet and threw her arms around her brother. At this point she was bawling uncontrollably, but she didn't care if he saw.

Max laughed uncomfortably and hesitantly raised his arms to encircle her. "Hey now, it's OK. Was that nice timing or what?"

"Several hours earlier would have been nice timing!" she laughed, choking on her sobs. "Before I got kidnapped would have been nice timing!"

"I see how it is. No gratitude," he replied. He dropped his embrace and began to back away but Phoebe dug her fingers into his back and clung even tighter.

She heard him inhale sharply in surprise.

"Max, I love you," she said, breathless. Her eyes were wide but he couldn't see them. Her tears were wet on her cheeks but she didn't shed any new ones.

"I know that," he said lightly. "You know, if I'd known you were going to force me into a chick flick moment I wouldn't have saved you." It felt strange not to be returning her hug. He lifted a hand again to her lower back.

"I don't think you know what I mean," Phoebe said quietly.

She felt him swallow. She was holding him so tightly, she felt everything.

"So tell me what you mean, then," Max whispered.

Phoebe pulled away so that she could look him in the eyes. "I thought I was going to die. A second chance at life gives you a lot of perspective, that's not just a cliché. I can't not tell you that…"

He lifted his eyebrows.

Phoebe let out a panicked sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "I love you. Well, obviously I do. I'm your sister. But I don't mean that I love you like a sister. Well, I do love like you a sister. I just…God, I was down for hours with nothing to do, why didn't I figure out how to word this better? Maybe I'm just trying not to say…OK, let's go again: I'm in love with you," she enunciated delicately. "And I had to tell you. I don't expect…I mean, you're my brother. I just-I had to tell you."

Max stared at her, gaping.

Phoebe stared back, growing more alarmed by the second. "Well, say something!" she finally cried. "You're killing me. I already almost died once today. I can't handle it again."

He held off for another second and then started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded. "I was serious. This is serious." He couldn't be this mean. He was mean, but he wasn't this mean.

"I know," he replied, smiling. He took one of her hands, and then the other, and slowly pulled her closer. He lifted his hands up to her face and put his palms on her cheeks. "I love you too."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No, you don't," she said, shaking her head.

"I do."

"No, you don't."

He kissed her. It was light and short but effective.

"You do?" she asked, running her tongue along her still tingling bottom lip.

"Yeah. For some reason." He winked.

She was entranced for a moment, ecstasy bubbling up in her. Then the bubble popped. "But what are we gonna do? We're…well you know what we are."

"I don't know, Phoebe." His smile faded.

"You know what?" Phoebe said, brightening. "I'm not even going to worry about that right now. I'm still sailing on this adrenaline high. I'm alive. And you love me too. This is not a day to spend worrying about the future."

Max gawked at her in surprise. "Who are you? Where is my sister Phoebe? The Trickster left behind a clone for me to 'save'."

She laughed, and then she tentatively kissed him. They both grew more confident as the kiss deepened and were panting by the time they withdrew.

They waited for the Hero League to come and take the Trickster off to their prison, seated next to each other on the cellar floor against the dirt wall. He played with her hair and she leaned against his shoulder.

"How did you find me?" Phoebe asked. "I didn't think anyone would be able to find me."

"Well you're not gonna like this, but it was really Colosso who found you. He knew someone who had met with the Trickster at this property before. Of course I did all the dirty work, so I should probably get most of the credit."

"I'm fine with that," she said softly. "Saving my life makes you a hero, you know," she teased, smiling up at him.

"Everyone once in a while the other side has a truly worthy cause."