A/N: Hi everyone, thanks for the love. I wish I could repost my old stuff too, but I can't. It's gone gone. This is what we all get now, haha. Also, I haven't written or read MR in a long time so a lot of canon is fuzzy to me. Bear with me, feel free to call me out on discrepancies. I also have multiple typos that I apologize for. I must admit I wrote this on a whim and had a total of 3 chapters written when I got too excited and had to post. It's being written very, very on the fly. So there will be updates sporadically. I don't write a lot - in fact, I've been binge writing mostly on the weekends. So, sorry for that.

Oh my gosh I'm talking so much. Ugh.

Much more love than usual,

M

Disclaimer: James Patterson owns the characters and any recognizable canon info. Thanks JP for this chaotic universe you gifted us.

M

"I want to see him," I say into the phone, trying to keep my voice low. "Now."

"He's in custody." Val sounds confused. She pauses. "Is this not a good thing?"

It's a great thing. It's what we've been fighting for this whole time. It's what I've dreamed about, what I've stayed up late at night trying to achieve. But—

"It is a good thing," I say slowly, trying to focus and not just hang up, throw open Fang's window, and dart into the distance. The flight instinct is kicking in, ridiculously strong after being dormant for some time. Fang's now fully dressed, sitting on his bed behind me, watching me pace around on the phone with my mother.

The more we had tried to fit ourselves into a normal life, the more we realized that normal lives weren't meant to fit us. Valencia was one of the most inspiring women in my life, but when it mattered? She wasn't my mom. A mentor, maybe—especially now, while I try to navigate what our lives have become. Because it's not normal, it's just the closest we've ever gotten. I don't know anything about living in the real world, and Val has never offered anything but help.

"I just want to know what they have on him," I say. "I want to know the evidence; I want to know the charges."

Val starts yammering about how the authorities are the right people to deal with this and they know what they're doing.

This is where Val and I disagree. As much as I understand that she doesn't think the takedown of the School should include six underage mutants, I know that the authorities don't understand what they're up against. They let the School get this big, right under their nose, all over the country. And now we are supposed to sit back in our semi-hidden home and wait for them to end it?

It hits me that she's right, though, that we can't do this ourselves.

"We need a lawyer," I say suddenly. "Maybe a team. We need to work with the feds. Because otherwise...this isn't going to stick." I look back down at Fang's phone, where I still see the article's large headline, followed by an emotionless picture of our stand-in father. "If they do this without our input, they're going to fuck it up."

"Probably," Val says. She laughs a little. "Pretty sure Fang said that from the start, but we won't remind him."

I glance at him, sitting right behind me, looking at me with a cocky expression and one eyebrow raised. He can hear every word she's saying. I grin.

Fang lost that fight years ago, when we were turning over Itex files we had stolen from one location in L.A. He insisted we keep copies of everything, which we did for some things we still wanted to investigate ourselves. But the moment we stepped into the spotlight with the shows and the activism, the School went menacingly quiet. All of our clues were leading to dead-ends, and we were done trying to be detectives. So, we handed over the info and implored the government for help. Val convinced me to convince Fang that we deserved to be teenagers for a while. It was the right move.

But if Jeb was in custody, I wanted a seat at the table now. Before they decide what to do with him.

"Yeah, we won't tell him." I pick at my t-shirt, lips quirking at Fang. There's a string hanging off the hem. I say the next thing quietly, because it sounds horrible. "I want to help put him away forever."

"Oh, I think you will be helping," Val says softly. "If they had enough to take him in, they're going to trial. They're gonna need you."

I feel a chill go down my back.

"We're going to testify, aren't we?"

Val sighs. "It would help. They're gonna want witnesses, to really put him away. You specifically."

The landline in the office starts ringing. My eyes roll over to Fang, who sighs and gets up, heading toward his still-looked door. The phone stops, mid-second ring. He opens the door and moves towards the stairs, intending to grab the phone from whichever kid was close enough to pick it up fastest.

"Hate that sound," I grumble, mostly to myself. "I gotta go, someone just called. Can't imagine who is it."

"Be careful," Val says, with genuine worry. "The closer you get, the harder they will come for you. Jeb probably had plans for this. I wish we—"

She cuts herself off, but I know what she wants to say. I wish we'd gotten to him first.

"Me too." I tell her this quietly, but with frustration. A lot of times, we had felt really close to finally tracking him down. As soon as the shows started, and Fang started writing for the organization, bringing our issues to the forefront, Jeb went dark right along with the School and any active threats. Even Val tried to reach out, thinking she would feel like more of an ally than any of us at that point—still nothing.

We have records saved in the office, and tons of digital ones on multiple laptops Nudge lifted, hoping to be able to crack the security with her skills. Over the years, with all the dead ends, we finally decided it wasn't worth it to hang onto that part of our routine. Hunting the bad guys was a big deal, but we were kids. This fight wasn't a single showdown, it was the long game. We needed to get stronger and smarter and get some allies.

It was better for us to get away from it for a while. The hunt was constant, forever ongoing. We let the people with the money take it over for a while and tried to right our lives a little. I don't regret that; I know Val doesn't either—she convinced me in the first place that it wasn't impossible.

"It'll be alright. Are you in town at all soon?"

"I stop in Detroit and Kansas City, first," she says apologetically. "For meetings. This story caught CSM's attention, too. I need to meet with a few offices. You know they found him in Colorado?"

My fingers curl. "Really?"

Fang pops his head in the door and shakes the phone at me. I frown, rubbing my forehead. "Hey, so I gotta—"

"I'll send you everything I have," Val interrupts. "I know you have to go. I'll see you soon. Be careful." She refrains from declaring any time frame, because we always try not to speak too much on the phone about location or travel. We try not to make our address public information. And to be honest—who knows who's listening?

I drop my phone on the windowsill and take the other phone from Fang's outstretched hand.

"Hello."

"Uh-yes hello, Ms. Ride?"

"Are you kidding me?" I mutter. Fang grins. "Who is this?"

"Ms. Ride, this is Detective Alana Givens, I need to talk to you about a developing case we have here. How soon can you get to D.C.?"

I chew on my lip, looking at Fang. We lock eyes and I think he's thinking exactly what I'm thinking. Fuck.

I sigh, leaning back on the doorjamb. "I mean, if you give us a few days—"

"Hours," she says, sounding concerned. "You're going to want to see what we found. We...need your help with this."

I'm floored. Somehow, they hit the jackpot while we were kicked back, living life. I'm almost furious they got farther than us. Almost. It's still a win. I look at Fang again, who's still emanating major Fuck vibes. Not that kind. You know what I meant.

I still haven't answered her. She prompts softly, "Ms. Ride, do I need to send a plane?"

If she Ms. Rides me again I'm gonna lose it.

I blink, and snort at her suggestion. "I think we got it covered on our own." I look at Fang one last time, and sigh, closing my eyes. "Address to meet?"

It's her turn to sigh. "To be honest, it's probably best to go back to the scene."

Colorado.

"Ms. Ride—" I roll my eyes at Fang again, wishing this woman could see my face. "Do you remember a house in Colorado? Jeb Batchelder—or someone—may've have held you there for some time?"

Fang's eyes harden.

I'm not even processing. "Excuse me?" It was so absurd to me that they knew about that—it always seemed like the most hidden home in the world. No one had ever tracked it down and we had never really looked into what happened to it after we left.

"A house, you may not remember, that much trauma at a young age can—"

"I know the place," I croak out. I shake my head lightly at Fang, like What the hell is happening right now? "We'll be there by tomorrow."

She sighs, seeming pleased and relieved this is over. Girl, me too. "See you then."

I hang up. I look out into the hall, down towards the stairs. I can see Nudge standing, paying close attention to the conversation. The house is dead quiet. Fang pushes off the doorjamb across from me into his room, toward his closet, saying over his shoulder, "Pack and move, out in twenty."

I frown and push myself off, too, walking toward the top landing of the stairs. I look down at the Flock and smile apologetically. "He's right. We gotta get going," I say, and watch Nudge's face in particular fall tragically. "I'm sorry. They have Jeb in custody—found him in Colorado. And we need to go because they found the house. Our house. We gotta go. Now. I'm sorry, Nudge."

Nudge cracks, uncharacteristically, and huffs. She angrily pushes her way past Iggy up the stairs. "It's fine, this is how it always fucking happens. We can't ever just be done and move on. What's the point of even trying!"

Remember when I said dropping the hunt and trying to move on was the best move for everyone?

Mom points –0.

Iggy breaks the angry silence with a shrug and a laugh. "Food is almost here, we still get to eat, right?"