Author's Note: So sorry about this, but re-posting is successful. Tomorrow, i am posting Chp. 3 to make up for this. Don't expect any freebies soon 'cause I'm halfway done with the chapter afterwards...once again, terribly sorry.

Chase was quickly becoming bored. He found a vantage point where he could see most everywhere in the room. He kept a close eye on Bree and Leo, and was willing to resort to mind control to keep them under control. Chase looked around. Silver decorations adorned the walls, reflecting the multicolored lights of the floor and ceiling. Strobe lights flashed on every wall, and the music almost unbearable. He kept a straight face, seeking for malicious thoughts, or just thoughts in general. Nothing was standing out. Until a girl stood in front of him. Bright blue eyes, long curly dark hair. Her sinewy figure suggested gymnastics as a hobby. He wasn't even tongue-tied, he just tried to stare around her, keep an eye on his siblings. Focus on his mission. Her eyes flared with annoyance."Hey, geek, what're you doing here? No one likes losers here!"Chase remained unfazed even as she took a threatening step forward. He could beat her, easy. Not that he'd enjoy it. Her lip twisted in an ugly sneer.

"Think you're better than me?" She shoved him against the wall, and just when he was about to gently push her away and go find Bree she kissed him. After a stunned second, he shoved her off. Ew!She began shrieking for 'Ryan' and ran off. Oh crap. Chase recognized her. Tara, the girlfriend of the head of the football team, Ryan. Naturally she was his first kiss. And it was not as magical as every movie said it was. He saw at least 12 lettermen jackets shoving their way through the crowd. He sent a quick telepathic message to Bree and Leo, telling him he was going to get some air. When in fact he was going to try to avert a crisis, but if he couldn't, he'd rather duke it out outside.

He made it ten feet from the house when he turned around. 20 lettermen jackets were swaggering their way over. Chase could smell alcohol on their breath, which was good and bad. Bad because they'd be a wee bit more unreasonable and aggressive. Good because they'd probably be off-balance. He scanned the walls of the building, and a found a still-sneering Tara glaring at him with two of her friends. He folded his arms across his chest calmly, careful not to shift his weight, and ready to deflect or dodge.

"Look, this is a big misunderstanding. She kissed me for whatever reason was in her crazy head. Probably because she wanted to see me get beat up. So, how about we let this go?" Chase was totally in the clear if word of this fight got to Mr. Davenport. He had tried to get them to back down. And failed. One threw a punch, but Chase flipped him with ease, settling into an offensive stance. He sent a kick into another ones chest, and sent his fist into a nose. He was fighting on all fours when something clubbed him in the head. Chase fell to the ground, vision blurry. It looked like a pipe. Then a kick in the back sent his face into the ground. He heard laughter, and felt his molecularkinesis and Spike start warming up. No! He had to end this, and fast. He scythed two guys' feet out from under them, brought both legs up for a kick to another guys chest. Then he just went on reflex and instinct, and the battle was over swiftly. He tenderly pressed his palm to where the pipe hit him. It stung when they connected. He took it away, nd saw blood. He dropped it to his side upon hearing screams.

He smelled the smoke in the air. He raced back to the building, and smashed a window with his forearm, earning some scratches. The smoke was thickening, and Chase knew that the few kids who were trying to fight it could do nothing. "Get out of here!" Chase yelled, coughing when he swallowed some smoke. After seeing the kids leave, he crouched, and used his senses and telepathy to try to find people. He sensed three to his left. He raced down the hallway, and kicked down the door. Two girls and a boy were coughing. Chase smelled alcohol on them, too. He guided them down the hallway, and to the door. Only to be blocked by a line of hip-level flames. He focused his molecularkinesis, clearing a small opening for them. He pushed them through, but one stumbled toward the flames. He used an arm to steady them, bur felt the searing heat of the flames on his forearm and elbow. He gritted his teeth. He had to save these kids. He guided them through the door, into the arms of other kids, and began coughing. Still, he turned and went back in.

He went into the right side of the house, and found his sister, Gavan, Leo, Janelle, and two other kids locked in a room, flames flickering toward them. They banged on the steel-plated door for help. Chase stupidly tried to open it with the doorknob, but got a slight burn on his palm. So he pulled a molecularkinetic trick, and the door swung open. He could barely see a foot in front of him, but tried to curb their panicked thoughts with stealthy telepathy. Bree was calmer, but thinking about her first kiss with Gavan that night and how she hoped it wasn't her last. None had heard the door open. He entered the room, trying to see in front of him with his bionic vision.

"Guys-" His rasp was cut off by a coughing fit. "-come on. We have to go." He turned, to see flames had filled the hallway behind him, their tongues dancing and flickering. Chase swallowed. "Is there a window in here? Bree, I need you with me!" She coughed a weak 'yes'. Guide me to it, please. She grasped his wrist, and he grabbed Gavan's who grabbed Leo's who took Janelle's who took the girl's. Bree smashed the window with her elbow. First the girl, Gavan, Janelle, Leo, Bree, and Chase followed. Chase pushed himself up off the ground, only to find himself slammed against the brick wall. With his sister by his side. Leo had been walking Janelle to the cluster of students. Chase squirmed and kicked his assailant, and he was released to fall to the ground. He saw Bree thrown against the front of a car, her shoulder connecting violently. Of course, no one saw because the car was sideways. Chase knew it had to be the men from before. Chase forced himself to his feet. He was shaky, but he would not surrender Bree or him to these blokes willingly. Then he was thrown back through the window, destroying whatever glass was left. Bree followed, and he heard the revving of a car through his swiftly dimming consciousness. Wait, no! The already weak walls collapsed when the force of the car rammed into it. The men made it out with their unseen prize, their presence forgotten by all except the two buried in graves of rubble.

...

Donald Davenport felt dead. He saw the half-collapsed building, and fought back sobs. Leo had called about the fire, and that got Donald mobile, but when Leo mentioned Bree and Chase were gone, his speedometer never dipped below 75. He had pulled in with an anxious Tasha. He watched the firefighters pull every piece of rubble up, and search for any signs of life. He was about to start crying when he heard a cry of, "I got something! I think it's one of the kids! I got a pulse! A weak one!" Donald moved as close as quickly as he could. It was Bree, lifted carefully onto a stretcher out of the pile by paramedics and firemen. Donald promises to donate 10 million to the fire department and hospitals after this. A boy about Bree's age neared her stretcher to. It was evident he cared for her. He looked up at Donald, tears making their way down his smoke-darkened face.

"Sir, it's my fault." He said as she was lifted and hooked up to machines in the ambulance. "We were trapped, her and I and Leo and Janelle and Elize. Chase came to get us out and if either of them die I'll never forgive myself." The kid sounded so sincere Donald cut him a break for crushing on his daughter. He whistled Adam over.

"Adam, go with Bree to the hospital. Take Gavan with you. Call Tasha or me if you need anything. Okay? Keep us posted." Both boys hopped in the ambulance, and it drove off. Donald wiped tears from his eyes. He had to stay strong and focused. Then he heard another call. Donald watched them excavate Chase out. Chase, who had blood staining half of his face. Donald's heart twisted. His bionic, heroic children were so close to death and he could do nothing. Chase was loaded, and immediately Donald stayed next to him, unwilling to leave him. He would protect his son to the death, and if his suspicions about the earlier attempt being connected to this, it very well could be an oath he'd have to keep. But he wasn't afraid, so long as his children lived.

...

He almost believed they were going to be okay when Adam called. He sounded weary and perturbed. "Bree's doing okay. She only has mild burns and smoke-wait, the machine is beeping and there are paddles, what's happening?" An apprehensive tone had congregated itself with everything else. Donald swallowed, trying to force an even voice. Even though he sat in a waiting room with people bustling in and out, he'd never felt more alone, like everything that happened while they were in this building was his fault. The unconvincingly strong voice that came out his mouth said, "Adam, it means her heart stopped beat-"

"The beeping stopped. The mountains are drawing themselves." Donald leaned his head back in relief. One child down, two to go. Leo. He gave Adam a quick goodbye and called Tasha.

"Hey, how's Leo?"

"Oh, I have no clue. He may have gotten a ride with Janelle's parents, but they won't pick up. I'll retry calling them. How are Bree and Chase?"

"Bree flatlined, but she's fine now. Chase...I have no clue. He was rushed into the trauma ward. I don't know much else." There was a long moment of silence between them. "Well, sweetheart, keep me updated." Tasha disconnected, and Donald held the phone in his hand for a minute longer than necessary, trying to feel as if he still had a grip on out of control things. Then he hailed down a nurse. "Excuse me, ma'am, where would I find Chase Davenport? He's in the trauma ward? No one has told me anything." The nurse gave him a sympathetic look.

"I heard someone was being operated on. I could go see if it's your son." He nodded his thanks, and she disappeared behind locked doors. Ten minutes later, he heard the door open. It was the nurse. Madeleine was her name, according to her name tag. Her brown eyes were sad.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your son had a preexisting blunt forced trauma that worsened after the wall collapsed. He's also suffering a pulmonary laceration, so they're going to have to do surgery. He suffered some hefty burns and smoke inhalation." She squeezed his shoulder in understanding. "I am so sorry. Anything else you need I can help you with, ask for Madeleine Ross." She disappeared down another hall, and Donald put his head in his hands. I am so wrapping them in bubble wrap and locking them in their capsules when this is over! His phone buzzed again. Adam.

"Hey, Mr. Davenport, they sedated her so Gavan and I are sitting with her now. They're estimating she'll wake up sometime tomorrow morning." Donald released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Any news on Chase?" Adam asked tentatively. Donald couldn't hide what he knew from Adam.

"Adam...he's hurt pretty bad. He'll be fine, he's in good hands. Please take care of yourself and Gavan. Eat, drink, sleep. We need you to be strong." Donald heard something that sounded like 'They needed me earlier and I wasn't there' before Adam hung up. Donald sighed for the millionth time that hour. This is tearing my family apart. And it was barely just beginning. Donald called Tasha yet again.

"He isn't with Janelle, so he might still be at the house. Getting medical attention, or trying to call me. I'm worried about them all. And you. First Douglas, now this..." She had no need to say anymore. "I'm here if you need me." She hung up. Donald gazed around the waiting room. No nurses. He leaned against the wall, desperate for news. Luck was on his side for once. A nurse held a clipboard, and called for the family of Chase Davenport. Donald stood and turned to face her. "That would be me. Is Chase okay?" The nurse gave him an uneasy glance.

"Not quite. He's in surgery. He'd breathed in lots of smoke, after contracting the laceration, in addition the dust in the air. So there's a high risk of infection. We were informed that you were without news, so here you are." She turned and went back behind closed doors. Donald sat back down. It seemed everything was just spiraling into a black hole of bad luck.