Episode 16: Synthesize

A suburban home filled with green light. A flash.

Quiet.

Emma blinked her eyes open, and her first thought was that it was really bright? Stretching, she sat up, peering outside her window. Yeah, the sun was up. Shouldn't she have been getting ready for school? Mama must have slept in.

She didn't like being late—she hated hated hated the way people stared at you if you walked into class while it was already going on. She should probably wake her up. Ugh, she was still tired, though. Why did you have to go to school? School was dumb.

Stretching, the small girl crawled out of bed, shivering at the cool floor on her bare toes. She yawned, then called into the hallway. "Mama? You gotta get up now, it's daytime."

Her blanket dragged along behind her—it was too cold to be up now. It was quiet and she yawned again, pushing the door open to her Mama's room. "Mama, it's time to get up."

She blinked for a moment when she was close enough to see that her mama wasn't in bed. Huh. Maybe she went to the bathroom.

But the bathroom was empty.

She went into the kitchen. Maybe she was making some breakfast? But she frowned at the empty table, no scent of food in the air. Just quiet. She wasn't in there either.

A twisty feeling started in her belly, and she frowned. "Mama?" She called it out a little louder. Maybe she just couldn't hear her? "Mama? Where are you?"

There was no answer. Moving to the window, she looked outside, and the car was there. She hadn't gone anywhere.

A really, really bad feeling started to rise, and her heart pounded.

Dropping the blanket, fully awake now, she ran back into the hallway, tears began to well up in her eyes. Where was she? She couldn't have just left her there, right? But she wasn't anywhere! "Mama? Mama, where are you?!"

No response. Not knowing any way to feel but scared, she did what you're supposed to do in an emergency: she went to the phone.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Where's my mama?" She sobbed. "I can't find her, where is she?"

Officer Conrad peered through the glass at the girl sitting in the interview room. The child therapist they'd brought in sat talking to the girl, though she still refused to look at her. He wouldn't've guessed they were making much progress, either—girl had her hands plastered over her ears.

One of the rookies, Katelyn Winsor, stopped as she passed the room, staring inside alongside him. "Aw, is that the kid? What's the deal with her, anyways? Dispatch has been talking."

He crossed his arms, frowning. "Her mom is missing. Kid woke this morning and she was nowhere to be found. We're trying to track down the mom, but her car was still at the house, so it's not looking good."

Winsor's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. Poor kid. She couldn't be staying with a friend or something?"

He lowered his chin. "Kid said she didn't have any friends around town. We're still checking it out, though." He sighed.

Winsor peered through the glass. On the other side, the little girl avoided eye contact with the woman who was trying to talk to her. She looked lost, long caramel blond hair curling like a shroud around her shoulders.

It was crazy how someone could just disappear like that—kid must have gone to bed last night thinking everything was safe and sound.

Cruel world.

Winsor leaned back, crossing her arms. She turned to him. "What's going to happen to the kid if the mom's not found?"

He shook his head. "As far as we can tell, she has no other family. We'd have to turn her over to the foster system."

"That's rough."

Emma stared around the arm of the social services agent that was serving as ambassador for her now, trying to catch a glimpse of the people in the doorway without them trying to look at her. She remembered them—they seemed nice, and they had a girl her age, but she didn't feel like this was going to go well. Nobody liked her—they got annoyed with her or tried to get her to look people in the eye, which made her skin crawl. The last people she had fostered with hadn't let her fidget, which was even worse, but this lady hadn't minded when she had to keep both hands on her shirt their entire first meeting.

Still. She wasn't sure what to think.

She froze when she saw movement from behind the bland-looking couple. Curiously, she peered across the space to see another girl emerge from a similar place to herself, peering across curiously. She quickly looked away.

"You remember the Kingsleys, don't you, Emma?" Her social worker shuffled her forward, into the open. "That brought someone to meet you."

While it was obvious who they were talking about, she still leaned away from the group as those they were some kind of infectious disease.

The couple peered to each other, something like anticipation glittering in their eyes. The man kneeled down, as though to be on level with her. He offered his hands, which after a moment of awkwardness, she took. "It's good to see you again, Emma," he said, and she shied away, even as she let his tentative grasp on her hands continue. "We wanted to introduce you to our own daughter, Gwen. Emma eyed the girl warily, subconsciously shrinking.

But, after a second, she continued to stare as, unexpectedly, a little hand waved from behind the mother.

It just kept waving, the other girl peeking out from behind her parent. Cautious, but interested, Emma slowly raised her hand and waived back.

Erin gasped as the world appeared around her.

The light dimmed. Her head spun as she tried to get up, and slipped in the dust. Dust kicked up in all directions, and she pulled herself up, coughing as she struggled to get her bearings.

She looked around. Her eyes scanned the landscape, and her jaw dropped: surrounding her on all sides, there seemed to be an enormous stone palace. The polished white surface of the buildings glistened with the light of the sun, giving the atmosphere around her an almost ethereal feeling. All around, there were stars in unending sheets across the atmosphere. Where... am I?

She looked up.

She gasped, as the blue face of planet earth stared back at her.

Instinctually, she clamped her hands over her mouth. Was she...was she on the Moon?! Slowly, she lowered her hands away, staring at them with distrust. Somehow, she seemed to be able to breathe.

Her mind wrestled with the impossibility like a background buzz as another thought arose: Emma. Where was Emma? Was she here? Or was she a million miles away, on Earth? What was she saying! Even if she were here there's no way her little girl would be safe on the moon all by herself! Taking a deep inhale (how,) she looked around herself. She needed more information.

Abruptly, she stopped her wild question: not far from her and surrounded with a corona of moon dust was a machine. It didn't look like anything she could name right off the bat, but it did look like a device of great importance. Maybe...some sort of NASA equipment? But where did the palace come from? Better than nothing, I suppose.

She moved to the screen and was relieved to see the readout in English. She hadn't known what to expect.

Even more surprising, though, was the revelation that the first word on screen was her name. ERIN.

ERIN. I HOPE YOU WILL FORGIVE ME FOR LYING TO YOU, THOUGH I UNDERSTAND YOU WILL NOT HAVE A POINT OF REFERENCE REGARDING WHAT I TOLD YOU AS OF NOW. IF YOU ARE EVEN ABLE TO READ THIS, IT WILL BE A FEAT OF INCREDIBLE LUCK AND A TEMPORAL ANOMOLY BESIDES. WE HAVE NEVER BEEN A RELIGIOUS WOMAN, BUT I CAN ONLY PRAY THIS MESSAGE REMAINS TO TELL YOU.

'We.' Erin narrowed her eyes. Was that a typographical error? She shook her head—not important right now.

THIS MACHINE IS A DEVICE FOR MOVING THROUGH SPACE AND TIME. THAT FACT THAT YOU ARE HERE MEANS THAT IT HAS SERVED ITS ORIGINAL PURPOSE, AS DIFFICULT AS THAT MAY BE TO BELIEVE. THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER IS THIS: IF THE MACHANATIONS HAD NOT BEEN PUT IN PLACE TO TRANSPORT YOU HERE, TO THE KINGDOM OF THE MOON IN THE 30TH CENTURY—

Erin's stomach dropped. What?

-YOUR DAUGHTER, EMMA, WOULD SURELY HAVE DIED.

One punch to the gut after another. A panic began to sink in that she hadn't dealt with since grad school. This...this couldn't be happening.

THAT BEING SAID, EMMA IS ALIVE AND WELL IN THE TIME IN WHICH YOU LEFT HER. DUE TO THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF HER RESCUE, I MUST EMPHISIZE YOU CANNOT EVER GO BACK TO THE TIME FROM WHICH YOU HAVE JUST DEPARTED.

BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU WILL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

HERE IS WHAT YOU MUST DO.

Gwen sat up.

It was disorienting in a way she had never been disoriented before, not even in the dark of the forest with a monstrosity sloshing through the trees at her.

Wait. When had that...happened?

She squeezed her eyes shut. When she tried to open them, the room was bright and she winced away from it. It's...no, it's just fluorescents, it's...

"Are you okay?"

The lab.

Gwen gasped, prior reluctance forgotten and when the light seared her throbbing retinas she ignored them. Her hands came down to ground her, and the blurry blue blob (ugh, please no more blobs,) before her resolved into the form of Mallory, kneeling before her. It took her a second to remember she had been asked a question. "I think so," she said. Besides the headache barreling towards her like an oncoming train, she felt essentially intact, if not a little fragile in her civilian clothes. "What...happened?"

Mallory's face as it came into focus was tinged with confusion. At least I'm not the only one in a daze here. "I'm not sure," she said. "I know we were going to start something, but then..."

They seemed to realize at the same time, their wide eyes reflecting one another as they shot straight, and Gwen's stomach dropped. "Sylvia!"

"Ow."

Gwen whipped around, peering back around to the other side of the console.

Sylvia pushed herself up to sit, bringing her hand to her forehead. "Ugh, jeez, what happened?"

She hadn't consciously decided to move before she was throwing her arms around her sister's shoulders.

Oh, oh God. All the stress that she'd gone through in just the past hour came flooding in, and she could hardly breathe as she squeezed her sister against her. Sylvia felt tiny and tense in her arms, but she slowly relaxed, squeezing back. "Hey, stop that," she said teasingly, but there was a softness in it. She was okay. "You're embarrassing yourself in front of your girlfriend."

Mallory squawked behind her.

After a long moment, they disengaged the hug and moved to stand surrounded by the quietness of the lab. Sylvia kicked her legs idly, maneuvering about the room. "So...what exactly happened? I remember coming in here, and then...my mom showing up? Or she was already here; you know what I mean."

Gwen placed her hands on her hips, glancing around the still, unelectrified space. "We don't exactly know. We were trying to do something with the machine, but what it actually did is a mystery."

Sylvia meandered past them, examining the device at the back of the room. "Well, she's not here now," she said. She flicked the metal casing. "And the machine is."

Still, in the bowled casing sat the golden visage of the Cosmos Treasure Box. It sat placidly in its casing, looking more like a display in a museum than the fuel for a device that could transcend time and space.

Mallory brought a hand to her chin. "That should have been impossible," she said. "If you're here, I can only assume that what we did created a timeline where she never had to make the machine." She held out a hand. "But then why is it here?" Her hand lowered, and she frowned. "And why do we remember it?"

Gwen frowned. Actually, now that she mentioned it... "Come to think of it, how did we even get here? Do you guys remember?"

Mallory slowly shook her head. "Shit, I don't."

"I can almost remember, but it's really blurry," said Sylvia. They turned to look at her as she examined the floor. "It's almost like...when I try to pinpoint specifics, what I remember kind of...conflicts with itself?" She turned back around, gazing to the side. "How did we get here? What do you guys think?"

Gwen narrowed her eyes. Ugh, why was this so difficult all the sudden? "We were coming to visit Narma at work, right? She said something weird was going on."

Mallory nodded. "Yeah, so we caught a ride with Rory and Carmen—no." She squinted, before looking back to them. She pointed to Gwen. "No, you drove us here, didn't you?"

Gwen frowned. She could remember driving, but she could also remember...not driving? "I—yes, I think so."

It was slowly coming back now. She remembered that she'd been trying to pull the professor from the place in the past she'd been trying to send the message to.

But. If she wasn't there...?

Hand moving to her pocket, she pulled out her phone. She pulled up the search engine and plugged in monster attacks Seattle.

A few results came up from a few months back: STUDENTS CLAIM GARFIELD HIGH TERRORIST ATTACK ACTUALLY SUPERNATURAL: MONSTERS IN OUR SCHOOLS? and SUPERHEROS IN SEATTLE? LOCAL NEWS5 FUNDRAISING EVENT ASAILLED BY SERPANTS SAVED BY MYSTERIOUS MISS. These were from the first round of attacks. Where are the more recent articles?

As the other two watched her curiously, she changed up the search, hunting down any hint of the last months' attacks. "Nothing," she said finally. She showed the screen to the others. "It's like the never happened." The only think even close was a mention of recent power outages, and only mentioned in passing. Nothing to stop traffic about.

Mallory leaned back against the counter. "So, there were no monsters?"

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she lifted her shirt.

Where there had been bands of gauze, her belly now lacked any sign of injury.

"Well, what the fuck?" She said, sounding stumped. "If that's the case, where the heck did this thing come from?" She tapped on the machine.

Head hurting already, Gwen's eyes suddenly caught on the display. "Hey," she said, moving over to it. "The connection says 'stable' now."

Sylvia pattered up, leaning on the console to get a look. "Hm." After a moment of staring at it, without hesitation she clicked CTRL and then 4.

"Hey," Gwen yelped, but Sylvia didn't seem worried.

"See? Here." Sylvia pointed to a line at the bottom of the "Energy Output" screen. "It says in the log TEMPORAL CONFLICT SATISFIED – CONNECTION STABLIZED. So, whatever you guys did must have made this thing stop freaking out."

Mallory shook her head, looking baffled as she came over to look as well. "Just clicking shit, Jesus. So, I guess it's just being powered by the box now."

Gwen shrugged her head. "I guess so." Still trying to make sense of everything, her eyes drifted of the screen, but paused when she noticed the camera lens at the top of the console's screen. Well, she did say she had surveillance everywhere. In the reflection, she could see herself and Sylvia, the whiteness of the lab wall beside the machine behind them. She whipped around to look at it, startling the other two, before turning back. "Oh my gosh. Sylvia, does this look familiar?"

It took a second for Sylvia to catch on. "Oh," she said flatly. "Well, that does make some sense."

Mallory stared at them. "What?"

Gwen glanced back to the wall again, before focusing back on the camera. "I'm pretty sure this was where the transmission we saw when we were kids was shot."

Mallory stood back, watching the sisters get ready for their starring role. There were many questions to be answered, but the anticipation that hung in the air seemed to offset the fact that they had just narrowly escaped death—at least one, if not all of them.

Of course, she wasn't going to be the one to bring that up.

Gwen fiddled with the settings, mumbling under her breath. "Coordinates...then TRAN...+PAST? That...seems right. But...how do we know the coordinates?"

Mallory raised a hand. "I have the google map coordinates for that hotel you mentioned. Turns out, there's only one Motel called Sharon in Nevada. Any idea what time?"

"We were just checking out," Sylvia said, "and Gwen's father kept insisting we needed to be gone by 11:30. So about 11:20."

Gwen gave her an odd look. "Your dad too," she mumbled.

Sylvia shrugged. "I wasn't thinking about it that way back then," she said lightly.

Gwen entered that. And then a little compartment opened up. Mallory ducked around to look. "What is that?"

"A needle," Sylvia said. She reached forward and casually pricked her finger on it.

Gwen turned. "Sylvia!"

"What? It's obviously looking for a DNA sample."

Whatever the screen said at that point, it must have looked right, because Gwen hit a few more keys and then stood back. She held her finger over the ENTER button, Sylvia standing at attention beside her, before she glanced over. "This...is fine, right?" The tightness of her expression was nervous, and she peered over, looking for approval. "There's no monsters. It's using the box directly, so no blackouts. No earthquakes. This isn't going to hurt anyone. It's fine. Right?"

Mallory tipped her head to the side. "Makes sense to me."

Gwen's brows drew down.

"You already did it," Mallory offered.

Gwen pointed back at her. "You are right," she nodded. "That is true."

Sylvia sighed hard, rolling her eyes before leaning past her sister to press the button.

The Cosmos Treasure Box flared pale purple. Unlike before, the lightshow seemed to stay contained within its dome.

The screen, abruptly, changed. While she couldn't see it directly, she could tell when the screen changed from being totally black to...something else.

"Whoa," Mallory heard after a long moment of them staring at the screen,

The sisters looked to one another, then took a breath. Sylvia began "Sylvia and Gwen, pay attention."

Gwen picked up. "In ten years, go find the superheroes of Seattle."

Once they seemed to be done, they set to work figuring out how to remove the Treasure Box. After several moments of fiddling and making sure that the system was shut off, they managed to open the case and Sylvia reached in and grabbed it without concern, giving her sister yet another heart attack. As they made for the closet exit, they took one final glance back to the lab. This definitely could have gone worse, so I guess we just have to be grateful for getting out of this in one piece.

They made their way up the stairs and, curiously, the door was locked when they got there. More curious, as the door only locked from the inside. They had checked the rooms thoroughly for any sign of the professor, though, and no dice. Mallory chalked it up to some kind of residual time thing; who the fuck knew.

When they unlocked it, they weren't expecting to find a group of policemen waiting on the other side though.

Officer Jerry peered back at her, and sighed when he caught a look at her. "Goddammit."

What she did next was entirely on instinct. "It's the cops! Scatter!" And then she fucking booked it for the door.

She didn't get far. The other two behind her didn't either: Gwen baulked and froze like a chump (she'd have to teach her not to do that) and Sylvia apparently moved to follow without question, but two of the cops in the room got ahold of her as did Mallory.

Mallory shimmed and kicked in protest. "I demand a lawyer!"

Somewhere in the room, a nasally voice spoke up. "I told you some kids had snuck in down there!"

Mallory looked over her shoulder to see a short guy in glasses pouting in his dorky little lab coat. "This is highly valuable research, officer—who knows what these kids were doing sneaking around!"

"Nerd!" She barked.

The man wrinkled his nose, looking affronted.

"Alright, alright," Officer Jerry sighed, escorting them through the doors. "I don't know how you girls got down there, but that's expensive NASA equipment you were messing with. And you should know better than to try and resist arrest."

"I can't help it, Jerry," she grunted back. "I'm a rebel. I can't be tamed." She looked back at the other two, Gwen looking mildly concerned and Sylvia seeming to be happy enough to go along with it, if somewhat uncomfortable with the touching. "Don't worry, guys," she said. "We'll get this sorted out no problem, don't you worry. Soon, these guys will figure out they've made the classic blunder, and we'll be free as birds."

Jerry sighed. "I can hear you, you know."

One moment, Narma blinked, and had no idea what was going on. She found herself standing in the hallway of the Institute with Carmen and Rory, staring at them in confusion before she realized that they were all in their Sailor uniforms and she squawked.

Cue one of her co-workers rounding the corner and shrieking, surely seeing what had to look like three holographic aliens in the hallway.

They scrambled, running for the nearest empty hall—a hall closet was the first opportunity they found, and they took it. They ducked inside.

In the dark, crammed in with about five brooms which frankly seemed like an excessive number, Rory hissed, "What just happened?!"

Narma shrugged, manic. "I don't know! Why are we in uniform?"

Carmen said, "Were we fighting something?"

"I didn't see anything." Rory looked to her like she was supposed to know, which, why?

"Okay, okay, hold up. Let's un-transform and then worry about this."

They did so. As soon as Narma's phone was returned from whatever extra dimensional space it had been stowed in, it lit up, blinding them in the closet.

Eying the others, she answered it. "Hello?"

The distinct sardonic droll of Mallory came over the line. "Hey, so me, Gwen, and Sylvia got arrested. Please come bail us out."

Narma wanted to throw her hands up. "What? Girl, how did you get arrested?!

"They thought we broke into your work."

What? What were they doing there! "You were here too?"

"I'll explain everything," Mallory said finally. "I just need you to come explain to the police that we weren't trespassing."

"I...okay." She disconnected. She looked to the others, who were staring, wide-eyed. "I guess we're going to the police."

Rory groaned, holding her head in her hands.

The police station was wild when the got there. Narma hadn't been to the police station before, but Rory miserably showed them where to find it, aided by the mysterious presence of Carmen's car. (But...she had driven them all there, right? So why didn't she remember the other girls being with them?) Once inside, it was clear that the station was up to its neck in work, which she realized belatedly might be due to the busting of the Red Roots last night. Curtesy of them.

When she got to the front desk, all she had to say was, "Where are they?" And the guy at the front immediately knew who they were talking about. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Rory.

"I hope this isn't going to become a habit," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Stiffly, she crossed her arms. "I haven't been here before the other day, have I?"

The man, whose badge read Jerry Cross, sighed, standing. "This way."

He led them back to a room with a window that had to be the interview room. He had them write down their contact information before they went inside. "Because you guys are minors, we have to contact your parents."

Narma's mouth fell open. "Even though we didn't do anything?"

"You're here in reference to an arrest," he said tiredly. "We have to contact your parents or guardians regardless. Station policy."

Narma grumbled, but stood aside as an even more disgruntled Rory filled in her info. Man. She really didn't need her parents running down here and freaking out. They were already on rocky terms—they were still (still!) mad about the Manuel thing and she was mad right back. Dammit, Mallory. Guess it was better to get this over with.

Still, if they were under arrest, why were they all jammed into the interview room? This seemed weird, based on all the cop shows she had seen in the past. As looked around, and nearby she saw a hallway branching off from the main area with a man standing guard. Turning back to Jerry, she tossed a thumb to him. "You have guards in a police station?"

Jerry grumbled. "We brought in a highly dangerous criminal recently," he grumbled under his breath. "We're not going to leave that guy without an eye on him."

Hm. She wondered if they had anything to do with the bust, then. Maybe one of the Root's head honchos?

Just one more factor in this weird scenario, I guess.

Narma spent the next ten minutes trying her damnedest to get them out of there without any paperwork. Mallory was going to owe her for this, for sure, even though really all she did was react in a totally reasonable manner to being approached by police.

Rory and Carmen were allowed to wait on the benches outside. Narma hadn't mentioned their involvement, despite them all showing up together. They seemed fine with not being interrogated.

"I'm telling you," Narma said, sitting at the table with her head in her hands. "I. Invited. Them! They didn't sneak into the building. I needed them to try on the dresses I had made for them, and some of our other friends tagged along. They wandered off, but that's not a crime!"

Mallory said, "Yeah, man; we didn't even mean to lock the door. My hand must have missed the latched when we went down there."

Still, the bad part about the boys in blue hauling them down here was something else altogether; she knew they weren't getting charged. The complicating factor was that they had requested Gwen and Sylvia's contact info.

Which very likely was going to come back fake.

Which could make things very complicated, so she had to try and distract these guys into letting them loose before they came up with anything fishy.

Her gaze drifted over to Sylvia and Gwen, who were sitting awkwardly at their places in the table. They clearly didn't know how to navigate this situation. That was okay; she had plenty of experience.

One of Jerry's buddies narrowed his eyes. "Then why didn't anyone see you girls go down there?"

She leaned forward. "They were absorbed with science, obviously."

Jerry huffed, twitching his mustache. He eyed her wearily. "If you didn't do anything, why did you run?"

She shrugged. "Force of habit."

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Mallory lifted her head as a commotion sounded from outside. She sat up, trying to peer over the heads of the cops interviewing them.

"Ah-ah—don't worry about what's going on out there. You pay attention to me."

But Mallory caught sight anyways of a short, colorfully dressed woman pushing her way to the back of the pen where they were located. Her tawny brown skin was tight with age, streaks of silver in the dark hair she pulled back into a bun. When she glanced in their direction, her face screwed up and she marched for the interview room, knocking firmly on the door.

Sidecop B stood, holding an open palm at the window. "Ma'am, you can't do that; we're conducting an investigation."

The woman pursed her lips like she'd eaten something sour. "You better let me speak to my daughter right now, or I will kick a fuss you can't believe." She knocked again, once, twice, three times, four times...

"Krishna," Narma groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

Seemed Narma's mom had been the first one to make it there.

Jerry looked ready to quit. "Ugh. I guess we can take a break. 15 minutes, Ms. Anand."

Narma stood and headed out the interview room door. The sound of escalated volume rattled from outside the room. Yikes. Probably wasn't happy about her staying at the police station, even if she didn't know the circumstances. The two walked off towards one of the nearby hallways to 'talk." Mallory didn't envy her just then.

A new cop took that moment to lean in the door. She gave a gesture at the two inside, and they looked at each other.

Maybe now was her only chance, while everyone was distracted. She brought her fist down on the table. "Okay, listen. The snooping down in the basement—that was my bad. These two had nothing to do with it."

"Nope." Jerry and his buddy were already on their way out. "We're taking a break too."

Mallory narrowed her eyes. "Hey, I have a case to make here!"

"You'll have to wait 15 minutes." They shut the door behind them.

The room was quiet, she and the two sisters left alone. Sylvia. Gwen.

She drummed her fingers on the table, before turning to look at them. "So," she said, somewhat sheepish, "what's going to happen if your parents show up here?"

Gwen took a breath, leaning back against the wall. "Hard to say," she said slowly. "They'll probably be mad. I suppose we did what we came here to do, but. They'll probably drag us back to Phoenix."

Phoenix. The thought left her ill. There were about fifty things they still needed to talk about, and it felt strange to think what had seemed like a world-changing series of events were about to be over, possibilities extinguished merely based on a factor such as distance.

Holy crap, she must have really been drinking the hormonal Kool-aid; her thoughts sounded like some kind of hipster at an open mic riffing on about his Tortured Soul. Ugh.

...maybe that was okay, right then. Even professionals could appreciate a quiet moment when the time came.

She squinted an eye at them. Sylvia made some highly measured sweeps over the metal table with her hands. "...you think you guys will come by some time?"

Gwen responded immediately. "Yeah," she said. "Of course. When we get some time."

"They'll probably have us on house arrest," Sylvia added flatly, and they went quiet.

Suddenly a racket rattled through the building. The noise made them jump, sending them under the table as far as they were able. There were shouts, and finally Mallory rose back about the tabletop. "What the hell was that?"

Still, her heart practically sunk through the floor. Please don't be what I think that just was.

Man, this was so uncomfortable.

If Rory had any say, she wouldn't have ever stepped foot in here again. Unfortunately, it seemed shenanigans were a universal constant, and so here she was, sitting with Carmen on the visitor's bench full of confusion and not able to talk about it.

Ugh.

She looked up when she felt a nudge on her arm. Carmen peered back at her. "You okay?"

Rory blew out a breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wish I wasn't here right now."

Carmen nodded solemnly, her eyes wide. "It's a gross atmosphere." She took a deep breath. "At least it's not for something serious, though. With as much as we know about Mallory, she'll probably figure out a way to weasel out of this." She raised a brow.

Rory snorted. "Yeah, probably." Stretching, she sat up. It was humid in the office, clear that the station's AC wasn't totally working in the summer heat. She didn't especially like all the glances over from the folks in the pens either, but she guessed she would just have to deal for now. Also, she couldn't help but be relieved she wasn't here about herself this time.

She peered back to the room nearby, where two cops had emerged moments before and were now muttering over a computer screen. Mallory, Gwen, and Sylvia were all still jammed inside the small room—who knew what was going on in there. Mallory had said she had some stuff to tell them, but they hadn't exactly had the chance to talk yet.

Not to mention the drama with Narma. Rory could only wince when she'd come through like a tiny hurricane moments before, only to emerge with Narma in a yelling match. They disappeared down the hall to the restrooms where they could have some privacy, but still. She wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that. Just one thing after another, jeez.

Rory frowned, eyeing the huddled cops. "They've been at this a long time. Wonder what's taking so long?"

It happened quickly.

One moment, they were sitting there, and she turned towards the back, and then a familiar tak-a-tak-a filled the air. Rory yelped, heart leaping at the noise, and dragged Carmen and herself to the floor. The cops in the pens let out alarmed noises as the sounds of breaking glass filled the room.

"Jesus Christ!" Someone cried. "Officer down, officer down!"

Rory's eyes swiveled on the scene like pool balls, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The front window was busted out. People were scrambling. Guns were drawn, and folks were trying to get a look outside. Did—did they just get shot up?!

"They sprayed the back offices too," another cop said roughly though a walkie, her voice distorted. "We need ambulances right away."

"Where did they come from?! Did anyone get a look at them?" Another officer yelled through the building.

Beside her, she felt Carmen trying to stand up. "No," she hissed. "Stay down! They might not be done."

Suddenly, a much louder boom racketed through the building, and Rory gasped, covering her head.

"It's the cells! Stop them!"

Her eyes widened, and she finally understood.

The Roots.

Narma's mother marched her back through the building as she tried to explain that this was in no way her freaking fault. "It was just a misunderstanding!" She barked, tugging her arm out of her mother's grip.

Her mother turned, and her eyes were watery. Despite the distressing picture, Narma couldn't bring herself to feel anyway but angry. "I don't even know what to think anymore!" her mother shouted. "Going out with reckless people, lying to us, and you don't talk to us! You never talk anymore!"

Narma bit back, "Because you never listen. Mother, sometimes I want to live my life! People make mistakes, and you act like it means I don't have any sense at all! I'm working hard!"

She threw her hands up. "Because I'm here, you assume I did something, when really this has nothing to do with me! It's like you don't trust me anymore! I don't know what to say to make you understand!"

Her mother's lip wobbled, and she looked away. "It's like you hate us," she said stiffly. "Why don't you love your parents?"

Narma's jaw dropped, her shoulders slumping. A groan of frustration heaved out of her. There was no winning with them! it felt hopeless to even argue. They just weren't going to understand. "I do love you! But that doesn't mean I have to agree with you all the time, or that I'm going to be exactly what you want me to be! You have to let me make mistakes."

Her mother's cold pout faltered, and she could see something like pain in her expression. "We just worry about you. And we miss you! We don't want to lose our little girl!"

She didn't have to say it like that, like she was just trying to make her feel bad. Narma clench her hands, eyes burning. "And I'm trying to tell you you won't."

An explosive noise clattered through the hall, and Narma yelped as broken glass sprayed out from the wall's window like water. The light fixture busted above them, casting the hall in darkness. Her good ear was ringing; her bad ear throbbed with memory. Wincing, she uncovered her eyes. "The heck was that—Mom?"

It took her a second to see it in the dark as her mother fell. There was a darkness at her shoulder, getting bigger. Horror filled her, and she scrambled over to kneel beside her. "Mom? Mom, are you okay?"

"I—" Her mother's voice sounded in the hall, sounding shaken. "—did someone throw something?"

"Mom?" Panic bubbled up at her mother's apparent confusion. Had that been gunfire? Why? Where had it come from? She inhaled shakily, screaming, "HELP! We need help!"

She looked back to her mother, who said, "What are you yelling for? Who turned the lights off?"

Was she shot? Narma reached out to feel the edge of her sari—her fingers came back wet. Fumbling, she reached for the bag on her hip, she moved to call 911—shit, she was at the police station. "HELP!" She yelled again. Where was everybody? She pulled out her phone anyways, and dialed the number. Surprisingly, a harried voice picked up. "Ah—hello, 911, what's your emergency?" There were loud voices in the background. Did they get hit too?

"I'm here at the police station," she said desperately, "my mom's been shot."

The woman inhaled. "Okay. okay." She sounded frantic. "Where are you?"

"In the back hall? With the offices?"

The woman sighed roughly, "Okay, we know, we know. There's an ambulance on its way right now. It should just be a few minutes. Put pressure on the wound. Okay? Just hang in there."

"Okay," Narma said. "Okay."

Her mother had stopped talking, and she was scared to leave her—what if she couldn't find her way back? What if...? "It's going to be okay," she said. "Someone's coming." She could hear sirens, actually, maybe? But they sounded so far away! She whimpered, pressing the canvas of her bag against the dark spot on her mother's dress. "Mom, can you hear me?"

No response. Something crawled up her throat, squeezing tightly. How did this happen? "It's going to be okay."

She held her mother's hand as she clutched her bag to the wound, blood soaking through. She was scared to move. "Look," she whispered, vision blurry. "I wasn't trying to make you upset, alright? I just...I just needed to do something. Needed to be someone. I'm sorry it's not who you wanted. I know I made a mistake." She sniffed. It felt like the moment in the dark was dragging on forever. What if...what if they didn't get here in time? No, they had to. "I'm sorry. But you've got to be okay, alright? You've got to."

In her bag, her fingers brushed up against the Egeria scepter. They must have, because she felt the familiar holographic aura envelope her. She didn't know if her mother could see it or not—it didn't matter.

Her vision was lost to tears. She held her mother's hand, and in that moment, she heard something. Not the sirens, not the voices from somewhere.

She didn't even consciously decide to voice the words at they came to her. One minute, she was crying, and the next minute a frail blue light shown from above and what felt like a delicate falling of rain pattered around her.

It felt familiar.

In the fading light, she saw her mother open her eyes.