Root tugged on the church doors, frowning when she realized they were locked. Shouldn't a church always be open? She sighed, and pulled her hand away, moving it to press against the keyhole. She had just locked Shaw and the boys in the motel room; this was just the opposite of that.

Her power came easily to her palm, filling the lock and turning it. It clicked open and she entered the church, letting the door close behind her. The church was small, only one floor and twenty pews. It was an old church, made entirely off wooden planks, light streaming between warped boards. The same eerie feeling that lived in her house had also made its home here. She shivered as she started down the center aisle toward the altar and a door set into the far wall.

The whole town could probably fit inside this church, but that was more to do with the size of the town than the size of the church. Her footsteps were loud against the bare wood floor. The altar was sparse, two half-gone candles sat on either end and an empty metal bowl sat between them. Looming above was a sculpture of Jesus on the cross, too big for the tiny congregation.

Root had never been religious. Her parents hated churches and she'd never been compelled to go by herself. The idea of someone controlling her life was unappealing. She was in charge of her own destiny, especially now. Her head throbbed painfully, and she looked down to watch where she walked.

It was hard for her to focus now, because the magic she was filled with kept trying to overwhelm her. Root hadn't known how alive it was, and how much power it really had. She felt like there was something living in her chest, like it really wanted to destroy her and live out in the world instead. Most of her focus was spent keeping herself together and fighting back.

She wished that she had brought Shaw along, but what good would that have done? Root would feel less alone. That second voice inside her head reminded her that Shaw was going to leave her anyway, that Root really was alone, that it was just the two of them now. She tried to block it out, and remind herself that her friends had come with her. The voice told her she had ended up alone anyway.

Root reached the back of the church and tried the door. This one was locked, too, and she unlocked it just like she had with the main door. Every time she used her power, that voice got a little bit louder. There was no way to kill Greer without it, though, and no way to save her friends' parents. She just had to be strong enough to see this through and then she could get some rest.

The door opened, revealing a small hallway. She started down it, reading the faded signs on the doors. They were offices for the church staff, and one was a supply closet. For a rundown church, the building had a lot of staff. She wondered where they were now. Did they only work on Sundays? A church in a small town like this was probably a community center, too.

She didn't have time to think about them now. The blueprint Harold had found showed the entrance to the basement at the end of the hall. The cramped hallway was short, and she made it to the end easily. Her voice urged her onwards and she pressed her hand to the dark wood door.

Her magic was eager to get through, and it spread from her hand along the wall, finding all the cracks and edges. After a moment, it flashed and the door cracked loudly. Root jumped backwards as it fell to pieces, shattering like glass. So much for the element of surprise.

On the other side was a steep staircase, the same dark wood that the door had been made out of. It groaned when she took the first step and she took a deep breath. Anyone down there would know she was coming now. Mustering courage, she kept going.

Again she wished her friends had come with her. Shaw had fallen asleep, and Root knew that she was too tired to fight. She was only human and she needed rest, but Root hadn't been willing to wait for her to wake up again. It was better that she was alone. She had to get used to it anyway, the voice reminded her.

At the bottom of the steps, Root tried to look around the dark room. It seemed bigger than it should be, almost the same size as the church upstairs. She could make out the shape of some tables, some shelves along the walls, and there was a large square structure attached to the far wall.

It didn't seem like anyone else was here. As quietly as she could, Root walked across the room toward the structure. Her eyes started to adjust and she saw a doorway.

She walked through the first open door into a small square. Carefully, she opened the next one, moving into the structure. As soon as she'd stepped through, the loud clang of metal against metal shattered the silence of the basement and the lights flickered on. Blinking in the sudden brightness, Root saw that she was in a cage, the metal walls made of a heavy silver metal. The double doors she'd walked through were both closed. She could see a bolt on each of them, probably controlled from another device. Footsteps made her spin around, and her stomach clenched.

"Hello, Root," Greer greeted, smiling. "It's been a while."

Root snapped her fingers to call up her power, but nothing happened. She tired again, not even the small sparks appearing. The voice in her head said nothing, not taunting her like it had for the past two days. It had spent so many hours telling her she was a failure for not being able to control it, but now it didn't even remind her she was alone. That somehow made her feel worse.

"You'll find that your powers are no use in the cage," Greer said. He held out his hands regretfully. "It's made of iron. You're just a teenage girl again. Isn't that a relief to you?"

"Let me out of here," Root snapped, anger creeping into her stomach to replace the hole her magic had filled. The wildness that lived in her hadn't left with her power. "Are you scared to face me at full strength?"

"Come now, Root." Greer clicked his tongue. "Don't tell me it doesn't feel good to be alone in your head. It can't be easy to hold all that power."

Root clenched her fists. "I'm doing fine. Let me out of here."

He sighed, turning away. Moving to a nearby table, he pulled a chair out and dragged it to the cage. Sitting down, he gave Root a bored smile.

"Where are your friends?" he asked her. "The boys. Sameen. Didn't they come with you?"

"No," Root lied. "I came alone."

"So brave," he praised her. "I knew you would be. You know, this might be better. You have so much more blood now. I'm sure you're far more powerful than you would have been as an infant." He waited for her to respond, but she held her tongue. "Well, don't worry. Your friends won't see you die. I've posted guards upstairs. They'll keep them away. That should be a small comfort at least."

Root started to tremble, the reality of her situation hitting her. Without her magic, there was no way for her to fight him, and he had just told her that he had guards. Even if she managed to escape Greer, they would get her. She clutched the straps of her backpack, terrified. She'd been so stupid. She really was just a teenage girl.

"Tell me," he said, leaning forward, "how does it feel? Is it aggressive? I think it will be. It should take nicely to my mind."

"Why do you want it?" Root asked, hating how scared she sounded. "What are you going to use it for?"

He grinned. "Curious after all! Good. I'm going to run the world, Root. It's so chaotic, isn't it? So much senseless tragedy. Parents disappearing. Best friends being killed by their inventions."

That cut through the fear clouding Root's mind and she frowned. "What did you say?"

"You should be happy with my plan," he told her, ignoring the question. "I thought you'd like some order in the world."

"Did you make Hanna's robot malfunction?" Root demanded. Her magic swirled weakly inside of her, awoken by her emotions, but still too weak to use. "Did you kill her?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You needed a push. I thought that would do it, but your friends managed to keep you together. You see, I didn't want to kill you myself. I was hoping you would do it on your own. Ah well. Needs must."

He stood and Root rushed to the wall of the cage, wrapping her hands around the metal bars. "I'm going to kill you! I'm going to tear you limb from limb. Just wait. You're going to regret ever making me."

He raised an eyebrow, her threats not bothering him in the least. "Such vigor. I do hope some of that transfers over. I could use some youthful righteousness."

She bared her teeth, reaching through the bars at him. He stepped back casually, putting his chair away. Stretching as much as she could, Root reached for him, desperate to feel her magic again and kill him. Red light glowed from her veins, spreading like cracks up her palm. He didn't seem to notice. She pulled her hands back into the cage, still unable to use her power.

"Traditionally, the structure would have been a circle," he said thoughtfully as the stairs rattled beneath someone new's feet. "I suppose we must use what we can find. It's complete, at least. Any break and you'd be powerful again. I've been working on it for some time. Now, do me a favor and step back, would you?"

Root snarled at him, banging into the wall. She could feel the faintest tickle in her mind as her anger took her over. "You're dead," she growled. "I'll destroy you."

The new person stepped into their circle of light and Root recognized Control, the nurse from the hospital. Her anger twisted into rage at the thought that Sameen had been close to this woman, in danger all this time. Root slammed into the wall again, trying to launch at this woman. The cage creaked slightly as her hands wrapped around the bars.

"Oh," Greer said, smiling at Control. "Good. Gather the materials."

She nodded, eyes flicking over Root. Control looked a little bit afraid at Root's rage, but she headed for another table. Root watched her carefully, crouching down and peering through the bars. Greer moved and Root turned to watch him instead.

"Did you bring the book?" he asked her, gesturing to her backpack. "That's good. I'll need that. Is that how it communicates with you? Or is it merely a spellbook? I haven't seen it in so long, and I couldn't read it then, of course. I look forward to finding the truth."

Root wrapped her hands around the straps of her bag, standing to move back from the bars. Did he need to book to complete the ritual? If he got Root's blood, he'd still need to drain his own to get the magic, right? Root spun around and pulled the book out, digging around in her bag for something to start a fire. Even if she had to die, she'd make it so he didn't get the power.

A metal clang made her look over her shoulder, and she saw Control opening the first door, pulling a small cart behind her. Root recognized a dialysis machine sitting on top, a tray of tools and tubes on the shelf below. That's how they would take her blood, then. Two guards walked down the stairs, heading toward the cage.

Her hand wrapped around a lighter, stuck into the bottom of her bag, leftover from their camping trip a lifetime ago. She pulled it out, spinning the wheel and lighting it. She held the lighter to the book, but the flame skittered away avoiding the paper. The metal door closed again and the second one opened. Trying again, she groaned in frustration as the book refused to be set on fire.

Arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her up. She grabbed at them, trying to resist, but the guard was too strong. Kicking in the air as he moved her backwards, she spit curses at Control, feeling the familiar anger tug at her chest and blood. She could almost reach her power, almost get at it. The voice hissed in her mind, her rage fueling it. The guard shoved her back against the bars of the cage, holding her in place.

The second guard who had come down tied Root's ankle to the iron bar. The rope cut into her skin painfully. He moved to the second one and Root kicked him in the face, sending him stumbling backwards.

"This will be easier if you just let it happen," Control told her, connecting a tube to the dialysis machine. "Although, if your heart is racing, it'll happen faster."

Root spit in her direction as the guard caught her free leg, tying it quickly. "Go fuck yourself."

Control's cocky smile flagged, but she shrugged and turned back to the machine. Root pounded the chest of the guard that held her, trying to get him away. She stuck her nails into his face, but he took one wrist, his grip crushing, and moved aside. The other guard tied up the hand he held, and then walked around her to finish it.

"The good thing about this machine," Control said, wheeling it over, "is that we can take blood from anywhere. It'll pump it right out of you."

Root spit at her again, hitting her face. She grinned as Control wiped herself clean. "How could you spend so much time with Sameen, knowing you were going to do this?"

Control glared at her. "Shaw's barely got enough of the magic in her to matter. Unless she gets the Hex Hollow talisman, she isn't going to be an issue. I don't have to feel bad about her. She'll get over you. You'll be a tiny moment in her life."

The comment hurt Root, reminded her that Shaw could live without her, didn't need her. Root took a deep breath. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to let Control know that she'd hurt her. Root didn't know what the Hex Hollow talisman was, but she supposed it didn't matter now. She bared her teeth.

"Just do it."

Raising her eyebrows, Control nodded to the guards and they moved away. Root kept an eye on them as they left through the inside door. They left the second door open, heading for the stairway. Greer looked Root over one last time, before turning around and following the guards. Apparently, he wasn't going to stay and watch.

"Let me know when it's done," he called over his shoulder.

Control picked up the end of a tube, a needle attached to the end of it, and walked over to Root. "You know, I'm surprised Shaw didn't come with you. She talked about you constantly. It was pretty annoying. I'm happy I don't have to listen to her whine about what a bitch you are."

Root ignored her, keeping her eyes on the open cage door. All she needed was someone to open the second one, and the circle of iron would be broken. Control reached up to grasp Root's wrist and slide the needle in. It pinched just a little bit, and Root winced.

"Greer was very disappointed when your parents couldn't conceive. Imagine his anger when the ritual didn't work with Shaw." Control shook her head, turning to the machine. "Personally, I think she got the rational part of the magic, and you got the chaotic part. I mean, why else would she have any magic at all? Some of it had to stick with her."

She flipped a switch on the machine and the pump started. A hum filled the room, and blood drained from Root's wrist, down the tube and into the machine. She noticed now that a plastic tub sat behind the machine, the second tube draining into it. She focused on the open door again.

"My thoughts don't really matter," Control said. She put her hands on her hips. "Greer thinks he can handle it, and my job is just to get it into him. He'll probably go after Shaw anyway. Any amount of magic is useful, I guess. Might as well get it all."

A loud bang sounded upstairs and Control looked up. The sound of yelling floated down the stairs to the basement. Glancing at Root, Control started for the exit. As soon as she'd opened the first door, Root felt her power flood back into her, her body shaking from sudden burst of energy.

She screamed as pain raced through her, the sound echoing through the basement, filling it with rage. The thick rope that held her in place disintegrated and she dropped to the ground with a thump. Her heart felt like it could explode in her chest. Ripping the needle out, she launched at Control, teeth bared and eyes flashing.

Control turned to face her, eyes widening as she saw that Root was free. Before she could run, Root threw her hands out, letting her anger pour from her. She was barely aware of the world, barely aware of Control burning up, barely aware of the cage cracking around her. All she could feel was pain and power. All she could see was the red of her magic. It swirled through her veins, replacing what was lost, and filling her with something more.

She thought she might burst, lose her form and turn to dust. Lifting her head, she gasped for breath, the air around her still shimmering red. Her voice still hung in the room, but she could barely hear it over the rushing of blood in her ears. Her hands throbbed and she looked down at them, the red cracks deep now, covering her hands and running up her arms like a road map.

Thudding on the stairs made her look up. She felt weak now, her energy fading like the red in the air. She'd killed Control, but Root wasn't sure she could fight off anyone else. Clenching her fists, she prepared herself to throw herself at whoever arrived. They wouldn't take her easily at least.

Shaw appeared at the bottom of the stairs, blood streaking down from a cut on her forehead, a gun in her shaking hand. When she saw Root, she slumped with relief and hurried forward, running to the cage. The last of Root's anger disappeared, and she felt truly exhausted.

Her legs gave out under her. Shaw caught her easily, always right where Root needed her. Her gun clattered to the ground. Root let her lower them, let Shaw care for her. They settled carefully, Root laying across Shaw's lap, Shaw's worried face gazing down at her. Even though her eyes were hidden by blackness, Root could tell that she was nervous.

"Root?" Shaw asked quietly, out of breath. "Are you ok?"

She nodded, eyes blinking sleepily. "You came."

"Of course." Shaw carefully brushed Root's hair from her sweaty face. "I said I'd protect you. We would have gotten here sooner, but someone locked us up."

Smiling, Root reached up to wipe blood from Shaw's forehead so it wouldn't drip into her eyes. "Stay with me."

"Always."

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Shaw gently ran her hand over Root's hair, trying her best not to wake her up. They'd made it back to the hotel room, Root asleep the whole time. Shaw had let John drive, so she could sit in the back and hold Root. They'd been so close to being too late.

Now, Root was tucked into their bed, and Shaw was sitting beside her, keeping guard. John and Harold were laying on their bed, and Lionel had taken the pullout sofa bed. They were quiet, but she would bet none of them were sleeping either. It was still the afternoon. The whole thing had only taken a couple of hours. She'd put Root in bed as soon as they'd gotten home, then cleaned the blood off her face. The scratch on her head, from a guard who had gotten too close, had already healed.

After they'd broken out of the room, Shaw fighting through the pain to yank the door open, they'd driven to the church, knowing Root was there. They hadn't expected five guards there, too, all armed and willing to fire at teenagers. Harold had hidden behind a pew, his laptop clutched to his chest. Lionel, John, and Shaw had fired back at the men.

Shaw had killed two of them. They were standing between her and Root. Despite her confidence that killing people wouldn't bother her, she had still expected to feel something. There was no regret or remorse in her. It was what she'd needed to do to save Root and that made it ok.

The boys probably couldn't rationalize like she could. John had killed another guard, and Lionel had shot the last two in the legs. They weren't dead when they left, but they were crippled. She wondered if they'd walk again. This had probably gotten too real for the boys now. How do you come back from shooting someone?

After they'd found Root in the cage, Shaw had sat with her for a while, letting her cool off before they took her away. Control had been in the cage, too. Her eyes had been burned out, and her veins stained her skin with black lines, aftermath of a bolt of something like lightning. Root had killed her.

Looking over her shoulder, Shaw saw Root's backpack sitting on the table. They'd put the book back inside, and the lighter that had been next to it. She could guess that Root had tried to burn it, but it obviously didn't work. Shaw swung herself around and slid off the bed.

This would probably be her only time to look at it without Root freaking out. Did this count as breaking her trust? Shaw couldn't bring herself to care as she unzipped Root's bag. After all the trouble this thing had caused, she was entitled to a peek. It had been at her house after all.

Sitting back on the bed, she opened it to a random page. The language was foreign to her, but she flipped through a few pages carefully, trying to feel something. It didn't talk to her like it talked to Root, even though she'd given it some of her blood, too. Maybe it was just a book, and it was the magic that made it bad.

If Shaw could get in touch with her magic, use it on purpose, maybe she could talk to the book, too. She would at least be able to read it. Sighing, she closed it and stood up again. There was no use staring at the pages if it wasn't going to do anything. Putting it back into its bag, she zipped it shut and turned around to look at Root.

She watched Root's eyes flutter in her sleep and laid down beside her, resting her hand on Root's stomach. The faint red lines that traced her had gotten darker. She was burning up from all the power inside of her and Shaw didn't know what to do about it. If there was a way to share the burden, she would. She'd take on the pain in an instant.

At least Root was still alive. She'd probably want to go home now. Shaw wasn't sure what they'd do, any of them, back in their tiny town. Greer was still out there. They hadn't found him in the church. He would probably come after them again. If he still wanted the power after 18 years, he'd never stop trying to get it.

Shaw sighed, stroking Root's hair again. They'd make a plan in the morning, once Root had rested. She would know what to do next. A sniffle came from the sofabed, and Shaw knew that Lionel was crying. How could any of them go back to normal after this?