"If Mr. Hawkins is done with his act, could we please continue with the trial," a preterbed voice said from somewhere Virgil couldn't see, but he didn't need to. He stood up and saw the courtroom he was in in more detail.

"I'm sorry, your honor," he said, scratching his head, "But I don't know exactly what happened?"

"I am not amused with your change of clothing either," the judge, an african-american female with granying hair tied tightly back, and glasses glared at him.

"Your honor," his "lawyer" suddenly piped up, "that is not my client's powers. It's obvious that someone has set him up. And if we discover that it was indeed by his own will, I can garuntee it will not happen again." The judge glanced at the lawyer, and back at Virgil.

"Very well," she said firmly, "As soon as Mr. Hawkins removes his mask, we will proceed." Virgil could only stare in shock...the conversation had finally sunk in...they knew who he was, and what he could do! The mask wasn't of any protection any more. Still in a daze, he slowly took off the mask.

"Thank you," the juge said, "now, we were just discussing the terms of your parol. I will begin again," she looked down at the papers before her. "Now, you must report to the Metahuman containment building twice a week for tests and other proceedures. You must contact them within the next 24 hours, or your parol will be considered violated. You will be under strict supervision by your current gaurdian, including a kerfew of 10 pm, on all weekdays and weekends. You cannot make contact with any of the following once you leave this courtroom for a minimum period of 6 months: Richard Bernard Foley, Freida Hannah Goren, Daisy Watkins, Allie Patrice Langford, Derek Barnett, or Miranda Alice Frow." The judge paused, and Virgil couldn't help but stare. All of his friends? Why Daisy and Freida? Who was Miranda? His head was spinning, and he found it difficult to stand. Than the judge continued.

"You must visit a councilor other than those at the Metahuman Contianment wing three times a week, you must contact someone from a list we have provided within the next 48 hours. You must maintain at least a B- average in school. If you are truent for any class scheduled, or if you are suspended for any reason, your parol will be considered violated." She looked at him over her glasses. "If that means you have to get a tutor, be it a student or paid, do it." Virgil nodded, and the judge said a few more things about following the rules and having his drivers licence suspended until the age of 18, but he barely heard it.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was trying to stop Marcia from falling into the shattered remnants of the underground tracks. Then there was a bright light, and the next thing he knew, he was here. But why was he here? He had been in the Dakota court building once or twice, but he couldn't remember this particular room. He didn't dare look around either.

Finally, the judge finished her ruling and left the room. The lawyer turned to him almost immediately.

"I dont' know what you did, but you're only lucky I was here to pull your butt out of that." She began to stack her papers. "She raised the counciling from two nights to three, and franky, I dont' care. You were lucky, Mr. Hawkins." She slammed her briefcase shut, "I never should have taken up cases for Bang Babies." She turned and left the room without another word. Virgil could only stare after her.

"This way please," an officer pointed to the door. Virgil nodded, still completely dazed, and began to walk towards the exit, when he saw a familiar face.
"Richie?" he asked. The blond haired boy looked like Richie, but from what he said next, you could have pushed Virgil over with a feather.

"The name's Virus!" he hissed, "and if you even talk to me again, I'll make sure you don't live long enough to wish you hadn't!" With that he turned back to the front, leaving Virgil, still holding his mask, and in his uniform, staring at him. He hadn't known the meaning of shocked before.

"Virgil," a familiar voice from near the door made him turn and look. The world around him dissapeared as he saw the face that belonged to the voice. He rubbed his eyes, and stared open mouthed at the figure as it approached him.

"Mom?" he asked. Jean Hawkins walked up to her son, and put her arms around him.

"Come on home, son," she said, and lead him in a mind numbing daze out the door.