21st, Monday, 2:29 AM.

When Coil finally picked up the phone I almost sobbed in relief.

"Urchin." His voice was calm, but curious. "You've finished the job already?"

This job was supposed to take a couple of weeks to complete, at least that was the impression Coil had given me. If all the police, PRT, media, Protectorate and the rest of the heroes hadn't found the guy yet, it probably seemed unlikely that I could have done it in just a couple of days. However, I had made sure to only ever call him after the job was complete, so Coil was no doubt curious as to the outcome. This time was no different, I called him after the job was finished, but he had no idea just how badly it had gone, so I had to fill him in.

"I have two broken arms; my shoulders are both out of their sockets and the rest of me isn't doing much better." I told him truthfully, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. I don't think I succeeded. "Know any healers for hire that aren't Panacea?"

I probably could go to Panacea and she would most likely fix me up, but I would have to wait until she was at the hospital. Which was not until this afternoon at the earliest, there was no way in hell I was going to wait that long. She probably wasn't the best choice either, Dean had seen me get kicked halfway through the train, it was possible that he told the other heroes and they would be on the lookout for a tall skinny guy, with black hair and broken arms.

Coil was silent for a long time, he had a stake in this job too, the thirty grand probably burned in his pocket. After a full minute he finally spoke.

"I see," Coil said calmly. "Othala of the Empire is available for healing work, for cash payments upfront."

It was good enough for me, I didn't care what their creed was at the moment, I just wanted my body to be unbroken again. I had plenty of money, provided her rates weren't insane. I saw the mountain of money in my mind take a big dip.

"Where?" I asked simply.

Coil abruptly put me on hold, the absolute mother fucker. He was probably calling Othala to see if she would play ball, but still it irked.

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in a poorly lit room, with a blonde chick next to me. She wearing in a red skin-tight bodysuit and her hand rested comfortably on my thigh. If I wasn't in so much pain, and if she wasn't a white supremacist, I might have even fired my shot. Othala was only a couple of years older than me, she was short, cute and came bundled with two other parahumans. The first was a girl about my age in a tight green bodysuit, her head was covered in a matching green hood; Rune. The other parahuman was a jacked blonde dude who wore a red shirt with an armored chest piece over the top of it; Victor.

The healing wasn't instant, and was instead taking quite a long time. It was some form of regeneration, it slowly dragged my body back into a better condition inch by painful inch. I wasn't clear on the specifics of her power, but It didn't stop the pain at all and every time something snapped back into place it was accompanied by a lance of agony shooting through my body. I was doing my best to distract myself by trying to move Othala's hand further up my thigh with the sheer force of my willpower; I wasn't having much luck. Victor broke the silence and my concentration faltered, dammit I could of sworn her hand had twitched.

"So how did you manage to break both of your arms, dislocate your shoulders and crack a bunch of ribs?" Victor almost looked impressed. Rune was looking a little green, heh.

Othala's hand stubbornly refused to move.

"I got a bit too fresh with Alexandria." I told him, through the wires that covered my face. Othala's hand tightened briefly on my thigh and I considered it a smashing success. "She's not really a first date kind of woman."

Victor laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. I'd even managed to crack Rune as well, and she let out a few giggles. Othala just shook her head, don't think I couldn't you smiling lady.

Goddammit, why is it only assholes, killers and fucking racists?

Ten minutes, two-thousand dollars and one shiny offer to join the Empire later, I was on my way back home. In the year since I took that first job from Gaston and had became a mercenary, I had curated a reputation for being a professional. I always completed the job no matter what. This was mostly because I was very careful with which jobs I accepted in the first place and as a result, I always got paid.

Coil must have been putting in some advertising work behind the scenes though, because I had started to get people asking after me through him. I knocked most of the bad jobs back, some of which weren't actually bad, just well outside of my abilities. It had kept my mission record shiny, glistening and perfect. I had never failed a job, and eventually this had turned out to be a blessing.

Clients had started paying Coil and in turn good old me in advance, with the expectation of a successful job. My motto quickly had become; I always finished the job and I always got paid. This time, of course, was no different, I had completed the mission parameters; I had found the Rail Tracer and stopped him. I'd only managed it by luck and a combination of seven desperate heroes and villains. Despite all of that help, most of us had still almost died.

So, when whispers of an anonymous bounty emerged a couple of days later, to kill the mercenary 'Urchin', I knew I had well and truly fucked up. This time I hadn't been selective, I hadn't taken a step back and thought about the consequences and instead I had let my greed drag me along in its wake.

When Daniel Stansfield had hired me for this job and paid Coil in advance; It was probably with the expectation that I wasn't about to murder his eldest son.

21st, Monday, 9:27 AM.

Chané Laforet sat at the round table that had been pushed into the corner of the room. She hated it, if she was being honest, the circle fit poorly in the corner and once again she thought about 'accidentally' breaking one of the legs. Instead she sighed and looked away from it annoyed.

Graham was sleeping on the couch in the middle of the room, his left arm was broken and held in a sling. They would take him to the hospital in a couple of days once the city cooled down from all of the excitement. He had taken some strong painkillers earlier and ten minutes afterwards he was snoring loudly. He would be fine for a couple of days.

If they were lucky Panacea would be working at the hospital but Chané would go and find out her schedule anyway, so they wouldn't have to rely on luck. Nice was sleeping with her head pressed against the small bench that was bolted against the wall, there was a bottle of scotch on the table next to her half-empty. A shot glass lay on it's side dribbling liquid out onto the bench. Graham and Nice had traded stories with her about what had happened on their ends, and they had managed to retrieve the loot before heading for the roof. Miss Militia had been too busy performing first aid on Battery to do anything about it. The younger hero, Kid Win had stepped bravely in front of them, asking what they intended to do, but had eventually let them pass without incident. The blonde boy with the hand blasts had already bypassed the heroes and had his torso stuck out of a hole on the roof.

The three members of Chorus that still lived had jumped from the train as soon as they'd gotten the chance. Every single one of the non-cape members had refused to answer their calls since the event, they were dead or captured. Dune, the perpetual troublemaker of the group had been killed by the Rail Tracer early on. She had known it was him as soon as she saw the hair, she thought it ironic that Dune and his killer had both looked somewhat alike. Chané touched her shoulder where the wire had passed through, it had burned like a white hot knife when it had pierced her, and now her shoulder throbbed with a low pulsing ache that made the entire area around it feel wrong.

Claire Stansfield had been the single most dangerous person she had ever fought and nothing she had done had worked. He had done things and moved in ways she had never even thought of trying. He had blocked attacks that nobody could have seen coming and avoided attacks with unnerving ease. He had moved with a type of fluid grace that had made her own movements seem clumsy in comparison. Her own power lent her an amazing ability to react to threats, avoid damage and deal it back in precise attacks, but to Claire it had meant nothing. He had absolutely dominated them all and she knew with a cold certainty that they were only still alive because he had been playing around.

Chané had felt like the young girl who had triggered in that alleyway all over again. After she had unlocked her powers she fought and beaten capes that had been stronger than her and been beaten by them in turn. But when she had fought Claire, it had been the first time she had ever felt truly outclassed. He was something else entirely, If the blonde boy hadn't managed to hit Claire, and if Urchin hadn't immediately acted she would be dead.

She thought back to the scene, Urchin's mask was a shattered mess and he had been crying, he looked far younger than she would have guessed. She remembered with a startling clarity; the wire passing through her shoulder, the knife falling to the roof of the train and the spikes protruding from every inch of Claire's skin. The thing she remembered most was the look of horror on Urchin's face.

He had killed Claire to save her life, and it had broken something in him.

22nd, Tuesday, 6:29 AM.

Hannah waited for the debriefing to start.

They had been stuck on the Flying Pussyfoot for far too long. The conductor's cabin had been sabotaged when they had finally managed to get to it. Everything in it had been destroyed, in an almost calculated way. They couldn't get the train to stop, they would have had to ride the damn thing all the way to Chicago; if Dragon hadn't arrived to assist them.

Urchin and the three members of Chorus had disappeared from the train sometime before Dragon had arrived. Miss Militia and the other heroes had been trapped on the Flying Pussyfoot for seven whole hours in total, Dragon hadn't been close by at the time of the attack. Hannah had done her best to make Battery comfortable and strapped her leg tight to avoid it moving and tearing anything important. They had rushed Battery to the Rig as soon as they got back. The PRT had organized vehicles to ferry the civilians to hotels and airports, and they'd done their best to clean up the blood and the bodies before any of the passengers could see them.

A day later, here they were. Armsmaster, Dauntless, and Dragon were already here. Assault was with Battery in the infirmary, they were organizing a visit from Panacea with New Wave.

They were only waiting on Velocity, figures the fastest of them was late.

They had already debriefed Battery, and talked to Dean Stansfield, but neither of them had seen everything that had happened. After Claire had broken Battery's leg and shoulder, Urchin had moved her away from the fight and back to the carriage. Aural, Urchin and Dean had been left to fight Claire Stansfield, and that had only been until Dean had been similarly deposited back into the carriage with them. They couldn't debrief Urchin or Aural for obvious reasons. Swallow and Climax had similarly vanished.

Kid Win had been by her side during the entire event on her orders, so he was spared from having to do much in the way of reporting, he had stuck by Dean's side in the aftermath of the incident. Dean had been crying when he told Hannah what had happened before he'd been tossed off the train. He'd cried even harder when he told her what had happened after he had climbed back up. According to him Claire had Aural dead to rights, knife at her throat and had been about to kill her. So Dean had hit his brother in the back with an attack which had distracted him for a moment, and Urchin had used the opportunity to launch a kill shot.

Hannah could understand the action, she would have taken the same shot had it been her in his shoes. Claire Stansfield had killed over twenty people in under a month, he would have likely racked up hundreds more if he hadn't been stopped. He was a serial killer, and Urchin had killed him to save a life. It was a pretty cut and dry case, Urchin was obviously still a villain, nothing had changed there. They would bump his threat level up a bit, Armsmaster would likely develop some training for fighting against someone of his skill set and they would all move on with their lives, there were bigger threats in Brockton Bay then a single young cape, however strong his power.

Hannah thought back to the first time she had met him, he had brought a dead man and the villain String Theory to the Protectorates front door. Urchin had been crying, obvious even through a mask, his posture told her enough. He'd fled soon after. He was young, most likely the same age as the Wards. He had styled himself as a mercenary and did things that had gotten him labelled as a villain, robbing banks and beating up heroes. But he had never deliberately maimed someone or killed prior to this event.

Daniel Stansfield had come to pick his son up, and his face was a visage of anger and pain, but it wasn't directed at Dean. He hadn't threatened them or made a scene. Likely because he had denied them access to the train in the first place, but it was only a matter of time before his lawyers came after them Hannah was sure. She heard the sound of footsteps at the door and her eyes flickered to identity who it was. Velocity looked sheepish as he stepped through the door.

"Sorry, I was running a bit late." Velocity joked.

Hannah just sighed.

25th, Friday, 11:00 AM.

Dean tried to keep his mind from circling back around to what had happened on the train, instead he thought back to his dad's reaction, he had been absolutely furious. His dad has raged about the protectorate and raged about the Rail Tracer. He even mentioned someone named Coil.

Dean asked him who Coil was, and Daniel had watched him for a while before explaining. His dad had apparently contacted this 'Coil' and had hired Urchin through him. Daniel had hired him to find the person who had been killing people on the trains, Daniel explained that he had been worried about this exact scenario. If a serial killer with a thing for trains was around, there was no way in hell they wouldn't attack the Flying Pussyfoot.

Dean wondered if his dad would have hired anyone at all, if he had known that it was Claire. His dad had never made it a secret of how much he loved his children, and nobody had told him yet about the killer's identity. Dean swallowed and told him and Daniel's fury had turn instantly to disbelief and shock, and Dean broke down again despite his best efforts. Dean thought that he must have spent more time crying in the last three days, then he had in his entire life. It was the only time he'd ever seen his dad cry at all. Claire was going to have a private funeral, with just his family once the body was released from police custody. Hours later, after they had been left in terrible silence his dad's fury had returned, but this time it was a quiet focused thing, and it was directed almost entirely at Urchin.

Claire had killed many people and had been in the process of killing another, when he himself had been killed and Dean had spent years feeling the hate and anger of every angry person he had ever walked past, and he'd quickly come to dislike the feeling, which was why he couldn't truly hate Urchin for what he had done, and so he was left with only a wretched ache in his chest, that Dean thought might never leave.

Dean wiped his eyes and cleared his mind as best he could. He would think about it all later, when he was alone. Right now he had a job to do, he flipped the visor of his helmet down to cover his face. Dean could feel the crushing weight of hundreds of minds swirling with excitement, happiness, and curiosity. They came from the other side of the curtain in front of him, accompanied by the loud chatter of the crowd. When they called his name out a moment later, he stepped through the curtain and onto the stage, to stand next to Aegis, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Triumph and Vista.

Gallant had joined the Wards.

Authors Note:

That's a wrap, Rail Tracer Arc is finished. Onto bigger and better arcs, which means another time skip is incoming. It was a longer than I planned for an aftermath, and I almost dropped it a couple of times. I am currently writing some side projects, so my schedule will likely reflect this. Probably down to every three days instead of two for a chapter. Anyway thanks for reading dudes and dudettes.