The walls were green; a battered wooden railing separating the rose-printed wallpaper from the splintering oaken staircase. It was an old building, the hotel, and a large one. It's red brick walls and sash windows gazed over Burgess ever vigilant, regarding t he new world with a detached curiosity, seemingly unwilling to move to join it. Perhaps, Bluetooth thought, it had been a manor house. Definitely Georgian, it was probable the possession of some rich English heir who was running from the stifling society of his home. Perhaps Burgess had always drawn in people with something to hide. Something to run from.

Perhaps Georgians had distracted themselves from the matter at hand by thinking of their town in the twenty-first century.

They hadn't left yet, the irritable receptionist with the messy pixie cut had said. None of the mysterious visitors to room 27 had since emerged, and as the girl had sharply pointed out, she wasn't paid enough to ask questions. He wondered if Liza had had an encounter with her yet; the distaste on her face when Bluetooth brought up his friend certainly suggested so. He couldn't imagine Liza held her in much regard either, but he wasn't even sure he knew the Liza he was about to try recklessly to rescue. Four years was a long time, after all, and had she had a less striking appearance he doubted he would have recognised her at the airport. She was almost as tall as he was now; and skinnier than he had ever been.

The girl he knew seemed so... alive. Even around the Brawlers, that spark in her eyes endured, but the woman he had seen was dead inside, comparatively. What was it she had seen- done?- that harrowed her so thoroughly? Had she been broken ever since the night of the fire, or had life ground her between it's cogs and wheels until all that was left of the spirit she once possessed was dust? He had loved Liza Kennedy, the girl, in his own way. Now he wanted to know Liza Kennedy, the woman. To fix her.

But she was hardly the only broken thing in Burgess.

Tapping had become Bluetooth's favourite habit. In fact, as soon as he was no longer locked up he would take up drumming; it was a much safer profession than hacking, and he didn't lack for time to practice rhythms when he spent every day alone. He was often not greeted with another human presence aside from when his meals were dropped off for days. Though he would never have considered himself a social creature, Bluetooth found he missed civilisation almost as much as he missed his impromptu family. But now Nevada was gone and Mouse was dead, and sarcasm wasn't making him many friends in the big house. Not that he could have made many friends anyway; enough of the inmates had been affiliated with, or at least known of, the brawlers, and not a one of them would risk crossing Caster. They gave him hell, on a shiny platter of misery. One hand tapped away incessantly on his cot, the other gently feeling it's way around the newest black eye, the tender flesh a result of one of the more easily bribed officers. Some were better than others; Sam wasn't so bad, and had even offered to open an investigation into Bluetooth's beatings. Not like he'd let that happen.

Every step seemed taller than the last, his feet far too loud as he dragged them up the creaking boards. He didn't know what he was going to do when he reached the door marked 27; normally he would have planned any detail intricately, but this was different. This wasn't a computer screen, but real, physical action. And that terrified him. Nevada had rescued not only Liza but her sister as well, from a burning building no less, and it was Bluetooth's turn to play hero this time. To protect his family- his scattered, shattered family.

It was as he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs that he saw them. A familiar beast of a man was frowning heavily as a shorter, pixie-haired woman hissed at him. Nails. And the receptionist- what was she trying to do? There was no way Nails would allow himself to be lectured by some up-jumped desk jockey, unless... the pieces fell into place.

"Prison watch up north," Bluetooth muttered to himself as both Brawlers turned to face him. "Clever girl."

It was the girl that came at him first, but prison hadn't been kind to Bluetooth, and despite her obvious athleticism he towered at least a foot over her. Brutally, without finesse, the hacker rugby tackled her to the floor, centring his considerable mass on her stomach and winding her. As he stood to face his second attacker, however, the back of his head exploded with colour, fireworks dancing in his vision before the blackness drowned it out.

"I know this is a huge leap of faith for you. If you're not sure, the hotel will be perfectly sufficient."

"You didn't hurt that girl or her family; what do I have to fear?"

"But you have your doubts. Understandably."

"I have many doubts, son, but none of them relate to you."

"Whatever you say..."

His eyes fluttered and he could feel the movement around him, but no matter how he tried they refused to open.

"Jay, I've been counselling at that prison for over 30 years. I like to think I have a good gauge for finding an innocent man. You aren't an innocent man by far, but you didn't hurt that family. Why should I expect you to hurt mine?"

"Everyone else either hates or fears me on principal. I guess I just have one of those faces."

"You've a remarkable talent for bluntness and sarcasm. Try to avoid letting my daughter pick any of it up; she has enough trouble making friends as it stands."

"What did you say she was called?"

"Oh, so many people call her Cupcake that she doesn't care much for the name my wife gave her."

He could see red- a shade he knew well. A loose plait over one shoulder, a paint-splattered shirt... Strange but familiar. A hand stroked his cheek, soft and lightly weathered, but quick. The hands of an artist. Whispering filtered through the haze over his perception until her could finally separate the chaos and make sense of the situation. Bluetooth's head shot up, and he choked out "Scars?" with a hoarse voice.

"The one and only," She smiled sadly "You look like shit."

A snort came from somewhere in front of him and Bluetooth realised that they were sat in a car. He couldn't see the driver, but it wasn't Caster at least. "You're not exactly the Mona Liza yourself as it stands." He managed to force out in an attempt to keep that smile steady, small and pitying though it may be.

"Terrible- I've found better in Christmas crackers. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a train." He considered. "Repeatedly. Yourself?"

"Things could be a lot worse. Maggie got away, and weirdly enough I'm fairly sure she's in good hands." Liza's smile was genuine this time, and Bluetooth saw a hint of irony behind it. "And you? I have to admit I didn't expect much of a rescue."

Bluetooth rolled his eyes. "Then you weren't too disappointed, then."

"Nope. Not changed a bit," She replied, appraising him with her eyes. "But Jesus, when did you get so big?"

"I had a lot of free time in prison..." Liza's eyes widened and she sputtered out a few syllables that might have been a question. "Caster set me up. Arson and murder. Your murder, actually, and your family."

The girl sucked in a deep breath, clenching her eyes shut and teeth together, her arms moving subconsciously around her chest as if to hold her self together.

"The blame was never Caster's to shift. It was mine," She looked up at him as if anticipating that he would try and comfort her and shook her head once. "It was. But I've mourned them, and I have responsibilities now. I can't put more people in the crossfire- your aunt, for one. I had to go. I don't know why I came back here; it was stupid." She sighed heavily. "I guess I thought he wouldn't care any more."

An almost feral growl resonated from the drivers seat, behind the screen that blocked Bluetooth's view, and he could recognise it immediately. "Foolish girl. What would you know?"

"Phantom, wasn't it?" Liza sighed again. "Charmed."

"When the fool jailed my brother, command should have passed to me. You are the reason it didn't." His voice echoed through Bluetooth, the blunt edge of his statement seeming to carry more depth than he had heard before. Phantom wasn't angry, he realised. He felt cheated.

"I remember that..." Bluetooth gnawed on his lip, knowing he should stop talking but unable to do so. "I was just a kid. Caster had me tip off all the silent alarms from all of the shadier shops, hoping to draw you out. He wanted to convince you to join him; he knew that you wanted the Brawlers for yourself. But your brother came instead, traced the signal to me."

"You never told me any of this," Liza said softly.

"You were fourteen the last time I saw you. Gotta say, Phantom, your brother could punch. So Caster took the security footage of him beating the shit out of me and used it to open an investigation into him. He'd covered his tracks well enough, but once there was evidence, the FBI were all over him. It was..." Bluetooth trailed off as the car slowed down and parked, momentarily confused. He heard the drivers door slam and Phantom talking (or, more accurately, grunting) at someone outside, but the tinted windows made it difficult to make anything out, and his swimming vision wasn't helping.

"Story time's over. Out." demanded Phantom, the ever-present wicked gleam shining in his eyes.

"This isn't the moment d'evasion..." Liza breathed timidly, living up to her nickname.

"No. But I wish it was." Bluetooth replied, his lungs constricting as he took in the enormous set of offices.

"You've been here before?" She asked him, reaching for his hand.

"Yes. But I wish I hadn't."

Richard Cromwell was an accountant, and his wife Lindsay was a lawyer. Jay's childhood had not been what one might call an exciting one; nor had he had an awful lot of interaction with his parents. In fact there was only one member of his family that Jay could honestly say he was close too, and that was his uncle. Martin was a software designer, who would often sit for hours in front of a screen teaching Jay codes and languages. By the time Jay was 12, he was creating and selling torrent software, and hacking into his school network to remove and sanctions he was receiving. His laptop was, by this point, his only real friend.

He was 15 when his uncle Martin got a new job, working for a branch of a large oil company based in Canada. It was a few months later when Jay crept through the back door and overheard the conversation that would change his life forever.

"I don't know Rich. There's something going on behind the scenes that I'm not seeing, and I don't like it."

"You're overreacting. I had Lindsay do a bit of research; company's clean as a whistle, always has been. CEO's cause of death was unknown, sure, but so are millions of people's every week."

"Everyone eyes me funny, like they know something I don't. If it keeps up, I have to quit. I can't work there constantly looking over my shoulder."

"You've never earned more money in your life, and you wanna quit because people are eyeing you funny? They're probably eyeing you funny because you're accusing them of drug trafficking every five minutes."

"Well, thanks for the support, bro. Good god man, do you ever think there might be something going on outside your personal bubble? Ever believe something without evidence? I bet you never even let Jay believe in Santa, did you?"

"How is that even relevant?"

"I don't know... I'm just tired and worked up. I'll crash on your couch, if you don't mind. Or if you do. I mean, what's family for?"

Jay didn't sleep a wink that night, his uncle's words nagging at him. If he exposed a massive corporation of foul play, he'd be famous, rich- a hero. He'd never have his head shoved down a toilet again, at least. So he sat up all night, hacking through firewalls and bypassing passwords until he found his 'evidence'.

A man knocked on his door the next day. A man with a gun, and a promise. A man called Caster, who took him to an enormous set of offices.


I'm back, with a very tense chapter, too. Almost at the end of the story arc for Liza, and next chap features all the Guardians. FINALLY. It's been a long time coming, I know, but it will be all the better when it arrives :) A massive thank you to my reviewers, who gave me the kick up the arse I needed to finally get myself into gear. You are even more awesome than usual! Also, I'm in a community now! How awesome is that? XD