The blast of buckshot peppered the building above Jim, but he and the others crabwalked behind some wrecked cars.

It's not even 8:00, Jim thought. They'd finished their job last night, come in, eaten, then just collapsed in the bunkrooms. Jim was exhausted, he didn't even want to know how the others were. He'd barely had a chance to even talk to Claire, who also looked like she was dead on her feet.

Sophia had gone back to to the secure trailers with the rest of the supervised release capes.

And now people were shooting at them, the very next morning.

"What happened?" Jackson asked the national guard corporal.

"There's a bunch in the building. Don't know exactly who, but when we told 'em we were here to take them out, they refused. We insisted. They…"

"Pulled out guns and started shooting." Jackson shook his head. "Should have backed off."

"We're on a schedule."

"And now it's even more screwed up," Jackson said. "I—"

Suddenly, with a grinding sound, a shape that looked like the combination of a car and mud, came stomping out from around the house.

"We ain't leaving!"

"And that's the other reason we don't push them—new trigger." Jackson stared. "Fuck."

"We can get them," Sophia said. "I just go in through the rear, hit whoever is controlling it. Masters are weak as fuck in CQC."

"Unless they have another one in there," Dean said. "We need to get them out…"

"I might be able to rig something up to—"

"Or," Jim said, cutting Chris off. "We could talk to them first." He glanced at Jackson. "I mean, we're already delayed, so a little longer won't hurt." He paused. "What did Probability say?"

"Her daily prediction was a 70 percent chance of no serious combat in the city over the next 24 hours."

And we won't get more than that. Dinah's power was too precious to waste too much of it on any one place. You could see how important she was in the fact that the one, ironclad question she had to be asked, in the presence of her supervisors was "Is Probability going to be in serious danger in the next 24 hours." And they'd had her read a five page document outlining exactly what serious danger meant.

Evidently, when you were one of the most effective precogs known, nobody wanted to risk you.

"That's…" Carlos frowned.

"You and I are pretty immune to shotguns," Jim said. "At least enough to get out and we've got a seven in ten chance of not having a fight."

"And let me guess," Jackson said. "You're thinking 'serious' when it comes to a pair of brutes is different than us squishy meatbags." He didn't look annoyed. "If they let you in, fine, but keep your coms open. We've got some FBI types back at base who have experience in hostage negotiations—no hostages here, but they're good at talking people down. Listen to them."

"Yes sir," Jim said. "Hi!" he called. "Can two of us come in? The water is really getting to me out here."

"If you try to bring us out, we're going to blow your head off! We ain't leaving!"

"That's fine!" Jim called back. "Tell you what. Me and Aegis will come in, and whatever happens, we'll walk out. No tricks."

"Better not be!"

Jim looked at Carlos. He nodded. Dean and Chris stared at them.

"Be careful," Chris said. "Weren't you the one who told us 'always be afraid'? What if they have Siberian-lite in there?"

"Then we'll be really polite," Jim said.

With that, Jim and Carlos got up and walked to the door. The creature stared at them, but didn't move. Jim didn't know if it was directly controlled by its creator, but he didn't get much of a sense of hostility from it.

The stairs were cracked and soaked, a hole in the middle of the flight. Jim noticed that the house itself was knocked partially off of its foundation. It had been one of the better houses in the town. The remains of a planter dangled off one side of the porch.

When they got to the door, it opened and a double barreled shotgun was pointed at them.

"No tricks!" the kid behind the gun said. He looked young.

Or maybe it's the way he's holding the gun, Jim thought. He actually wasn't much younger than Jim, but he…

Jim and Carlos walked in after wiping their feet on the mat. There were nearly two dozen kids, ranging from just older than toddlers to early teens in the battered living room, an eclectic mix of race and gender. Jim heard some movement above them.

One girl, about ten, had her eyes closed, a shimmering crown above her head. She shifted her head and Jim heard the creature outside shift its head.

"Trollhunter. This is Agent Wilks. Don't react. I'm going to try to talk you through this, but the first rule is, ratchet down. Don't back them into a corner, don't demand they make a choice."

Okay, easy enough to do, since I don't know what they want…

"Hi," Jim said. "I'm Jim Lake and this is Aegis."

"Wait, aren't you a cape?" one of the kids asked. "Don't you have, like a secret identity?"

"Sort of…" Jim grinned and spread his hands. "Hard to do."

"He's the one who beat up Lung!" A girl said.

"Well, you're not going to force us out!" the kid with the shotgun said. He'd reloaded it, but the barrel was going all over the place, including at least once in the direction of his friends.

Wards didn't get much more than familiarization with guns, but even Jim's skin was crawling. He and Carlos could handle it. Everyone else? Not so much.

"So, um, how'd you end up here?" Carlos asked.

"It's—"

"We were at school!" a younger girl said. "But when the sirens sounded, there were a bunch of car wrecks between us and the shelter so Mr. Jakes took us to the bank…"

"Ms. Chris did the same," the teenager with the gun said. "Said it was strongest. But…"

"But they went to get more kids and they didn't come back. I bet they got lost." The girl said. She brightened. "Have you seen her? She's like really tall and plays basketball!"

"There are a lot of people in refugee camps," Carlos said. "We haven't got a full count yet."

"What about Mom and Dad? We were going to meet them at the shelter."

"I—"

"Trollhunter." The radio again. "Shelter 15 was lost. No survivors."

Which means that most of these kids are orphans. Something twisted in Jim's gut. He'd had a mother, at least.

"They'll lie and try to get us out of the house," Tim told the others.

"Nah, we don't know," Jim said. "But can I sit down?"

"Where?"

"Aegis can sit down on the couch, but I…" Jim grinned. "Most furniture doesn't like me. I can sit down on the floor." Maybe that would calm them down.

"How'd you get back here?" Carlos asked.

"The bank was falling apart," a boy said. "So Timmy—"

"Tim!" the kid with the shotgun said.

"Okay, right! Tim, said that he'd take us home to his folks house. This is it!"

"It has solar panels so the lights work!" A girl added.

And after we leave, if we leave, I bet others will notice that, sooner or later. Jim wondered if Tim realized that once the full scale evacuation was finished, even if they were allowed to remain, it'd be with no police and no help.

The FBI agent spoke up. "You have a link with Shadowdancer. We're sending some people to talk with her. Ask them if they want pizza and some cold soft drinks."

Wha—oh, right… "So, do any of you want some pizza?" Jim said. "Soft drinks?"

"We don't need—"

"Can I get milk?" one girl asked. She looked to be about seven and was very serious as she looked at Jim. "Mommy says that soft-drinks make your teeth get soft and then you have to go to the dentist and I don't like the dentist."

Carlos swallowed at the innocent comment. "That's… That's good," the Ward said. "I think we can try—"

"Can I call?" Jim asked.

"No tricks!"

"None at all," Jim said. "Central, this is Trollhunter can I have… How many people are here?"

"Twenty-five."

"Pizza's for twenty-five, some soft drinks and…" Jim winked at the girl "Some milk?"

"That's a confirmation, Trollhunter. Wait one."

"Okay everyone, a portal is going to open, but don't get nervous," Carlos said. "Jim does this all the time at home."

Not five minutes later, a portal opened and hands came through holding pizzas, cases of sodas and a case of milk-cartons. Jim personally handed one to the little girl. She took it from his hands, shyly.

Wilks spoke again, his voice calm. "Okay, Jim, Aegis, while they're eating, don't push, but ask them what they want to do. Let them take the lead. Remember, lower the barriers, don't raise the pressure."

Jim didn't say anything until the kids were eating, more than a few pizza pies having been demolished. "So… What are your plans?" he asked.

"We're waiting." A girl gestured around. "Because when our parents come back they'll tell the PRT that they can't get rid of the city. It's home!"

And it is… or was. A few more kids came down the stairs. "Tim, Denise is puking again." A preteen said. Next to him, a girl of about the same age was wringing her hands. "I don't know what's wrong! We gave her the Pepto Bismol!"

Jim glanced at Carlos. "Can we look?"

"She's fine!" Tim said. "She just swallowed some water."

"Tim…" the preteen said.

"They're going to say we have to leave! Then we'll be all over the place and never see each other or our parents again!"

Now the gun was waving around and could he please stop pointing it in the direction of people who weren't bullet proof.

"I won't take her, but I will help her," Jim said. "Promise."

"Fine."

With that, Jim and Carlos walked up the stairway to a bedroom. Tim's Jim bet, from the sexy swimsuit models and motorcycle posters.

In the bed was a girl, twitching and moaning, a bucket full of vomit on the floor. She looked like a slightly curvier Sophia, save for the fact that her hair was long, spread out over the pillows.

Jim touched her skin, and even to his hands it was dry and hot.

"She's been like this for almost a day."

"Did Denise say anything was wrong with her?" The girl was about 16 and didn't look unhealthy.

"No…I mean, she was with Tim, she's actually older than he is."

"She said she didn't have her medicine!" one kid piped up, "but she said we shouldn't worry about it."

"Trollhunter, we may have to drop the don't pressure part," Wilks said his voice tense. "From what they're saying, it could be any number of things, most bad."

Jim nodded. "Hang on, I'm going to call for some help." He made a motion of reaching up to his ear. "Get Panacea."

"It's a potentially dangerous situation and she's—"

"She punched Leviathan in the face. Have her wear her armor."

He turned to the kids noticing that a bunch had crowded into the door, some of them still eating the pizza with the gusto normally reserved for starving wolves. A few moments later, there was a gateway and Panacea came stomping through.

The kids backed up. In her armor, she was nearly as tall as Jim, bulkier, and it had… spiky bits on it, a mixture of armored plates and liquid substrate.

"Who needs help?" Jim pointed at the girl and Panacea stomped over, touching her with her armor.

"Don't you—"

"I figured out how to make the armor count as part of me for the Manton Limit." The healer stared down at Denise.

"Are you an idiot? You've got diabetes and your insulin levels are crazy—didn't you tell them?"

"She said not to worry about it."

"Well, she was about five minutes from being too dead to worry about it." Denise's eyes opened with a gasp. She gave a tiny shriek of terror at the looming figure over her.

Next, Panacea looked around. "So, when are you leaving?"

"We're staying!" Tim said and now the shotgun was waving all over the fucking place again.

"Tim…" Jim said. "Could you… not point the gun at people? We're bulletproof. Your friends aren't."

Tim glanced down, blinked, and then the gun was pointing up. Jim sighed in relief.

"Staying?" Panacea stared at them. "Okay, which one of you is going to be the doctor?"

"I—" the kids were looking around.

"You're from the same neighborhood. The PRT isn't going to separate you," Jim said. " And they won't keep you from talking to each other. But right now, you have family members who are looking for you, and we can't help them find you while you're here."

"And what then?" Tim asked. Denise was staring at Panacea, but then looked over at Jim.

"What if they decide it doesn't matter what we want. What if they say that they can't find our families?"

Jim stared and realized something. Denise and Tim know their parents are dead.

"I don't know," Amelia said. "Is that any worse than running into Crawler or Jack Slash?" She glanced around. "The city's wrecked. That's where the Nine like to show up. What are you going to do? Ask Shatterbird not to break the windows? Shoot the Siberian while she's chowing down on Denise? Oh, I know, you can have Bonesaw do some checkups!"

There were gulps all over the room.

Thank you Amelia. "The Nine are nowhere near here," Jim said, ignoring the cursing in his earpiece. Evidently, threating people with the Nine didn't count as deescalating the situation. "But Panacea has a point. What if someone gets hurt? The schools won't be rebuilt. You're protecting your friends," Jim said, staring at Denise and Tim. "Even when it would have been easier—less scary to just run away. I understand. But we can help you keep doing that."

"How?" Tim asked.

Yeah, how, what's to keep… Jim suddenly blinked. "The girl who got powers, is she a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," Denise said, staring at her hand. "I watch Wendy all the time. Am I… Do I need my medicine?"

"No. I fixed it." Amelia glanced at her.

"Thanks," Denise said.

Amelia made a dismissive wave. "Just listen to Jim. When he's not being suicidal he can be smart."

"Okay, give me one second," Jim said. "Can I get a line to Director Tagg?"

"This is Tagg. What's keeping you?"

"I have a chance to resolve this quickly. Most of the children ar—haven't found their parents yet. But we have one new parahuman who is close to the survivors. I'd like assurances that if possible, they'll be placed in the same city."

"How many?"

"About twenty-five."

There was a pause. "It's doable, but if any of them have close family…"

"I'll tell them. Thank you, sir."

"Don't take too long. We're falling behind."

Jim turned to the others. "Getting parahumans into the Wards is really important, and I think that you could all be placed in the same city while you were waiting for your parents." He paused. "But, if you had any family members, like aunts, uncles, grandparents—they'd have the right to have you live with them." There was silence.

"But," Carlos added, "nobody would keep you from staying in contact with your friends."

"Could we…" one kid paused. "Could we get stuff from our houses? If they're still around?"

"Tell them yes," Wilks said. "It'll give them the push they need."

"Yes." Jim nodded. Everyone looked around at each other and then they were all nodding at Jim. There was no joy, but the tension went down. Jim glanced at Tim, then the boy stared back, then handed him the shotgun. Jim sighed in relief.

Two hours later, most of the children had been portaled back to the base. Some of them had family relations that had already been contacted. The rest… were more alone than they had ever been in their life. Jim had made certain to get their names so he could share the information with Claire. If there were any problems, well "helped beat lung" and "stood up to Leviathan and lived to tell the tale" gave them some PR clout.

Now they were with Denise, Tim and Wendy. Tim reached up and turned the lights off in the house. He'd taken some photos, books, a bunch of DVDs with more photos on them, a few other things. Denise had nothing with her. Her home had been washed away entirely, as had Wendy's.

Tim closed the door, then paused for a moment, before he pulled his key out and with trembling hands, locked it behind him. He looked at the welcome mat. "Mom hated when people left it dirty," he said. He picked it up and slapped it against the side of the porch, clearing the mud off. Then he adjusted the welcome mat and put it down in front of the door. He held his key, looked at it for a moment, then put it in his pocket.

"Ready?" Jim quietly asked.

Tim didn't say anything. His face was streaked with tears, just as his friends' faces were. He nodded.

Moments later, Jim called Claire and a portal opened for them, the three kids walking thought. It closed and Jim took a deep breath.

"Good ending?" he asked.

Carlos shook his head. "Doesn't feel like it."

"Yah," Jim said. "Let's go." The others had moved on and they still had the rest of the day to go.