He fell asleep right on the floor, curled up, his back against the wall.

When he opened his eyes, it was pitch black. For a brief moment, John almost panicked as he realized he couldn't hear a single thought around him. They had caught him. They had caught him and stripped him of his powers… he knew the cells in ULTRA's headquarter.
He knew about the citadel.
"No!"
His voice echoed through the room, and only now John felt the stone beneath him. The cold had seeped through his thin clothes, his whole body felt sore, but… "I'm free." He needed to say it, needed to hear it spoken outside his mind. Cautiously, John stood up and walked to where the darkness seemed to be a shade less profound, almost stumbling over the stairs. The doorway. Above him he heard a rumbling that had to be the subway. Above the subway was New York, and ULTRA.
Down here, it was only him. John took a deep breath. If ULTRA had known about this place, they would have brought him back by now. That they hadn't done it so far proved something John had not believed to be possible anymore: he was safe.
For the next two days, that was, until he had to go up for water.
You should have run when I gave you the chance. John bit his lips, talking to a dead man was not going to make the situation any better, but his heart wouldn't be silenced. You should have trusted me to do the right thing for our people. He cringed as he realized Roger's words had already wound into his thoughts. Was he really that easy to manipulate? Had he ever been more than a pawn for Jedikiah and Roger?

Doesn't matter, anyway. The wild euphoria of being free was all but gone. I won't be your agent anymore. And if both of you wanted me alive, dying down here probably is the best thing I can do.
- Those are dark thoughts, boy.
John jumped up. "Who's there?" His words were loud in the darkness.
Don't – "Don't be afraid, boy." The other voice sounded as if it hadn't been used in a long time, hoarse and old. There was something in it that made John feel tired and heavy, as if his veins were filled with lead. Was ULTRA doing hypnosis now? "Who are you? What do you want?" Despite the heaviness, every fiber of his body was wide awake, ready to fight.
A soft laughter danced around him, so low he wasn't sure whether it was telepathic or real. "I really don't think you're the one to ask questions now. But if you insist… what I want is to know why and how you have come here and invaded my home. And forgive my indiscretion but what has happened to make you long for death? At your age." Slowly John saw a figure approaching, moving rather to his left than directly towards him. After a moment, light flashed above him as three lamps were lit. For the first time, he saw his surroundings clearly.
The hall was smaller than he'd expected, but there seemed to be many other rooms going out from it. In the main hall, there was a makeshift bed in a corner, a table with only three legs, and a lot of cans stacked at the far wall. The lack of smell told him that there had to be a bathroom around – a bathroom still working.
"Not exactly the Hilton, but it's better than nothing." The small figure moved away from the light switch and towards him again. It was a woman, probably in her fifties, slim but not fragile, with grey hair. John knew he had seen her before.
"I came here searching for a safe place", he said eventually, "I didn't know it was already claimed." He searched his memories of ULTRA for information about the woman, but couldn't find anything. ULTRA had never known about her – which not only confirmed John's suggestion that he had found one of the very few – if not the only – safe places in New York. It also meant that he had seen the woman before his time with ULTRA. It meant…

Mother. The word exploded in his mind before he could stop it. John looked down. "How long have you lived here?"
"A couple of years. Soon after I arrived here, I was chased by humans who seemed to know about my powers. Better than, at that time, I knew about them myself. I tried to make it out of the city a couple of times since then, but I'm not good at running. And teleporting, before you ask… well, whenever they feel me teleporting, they follow me. Eventually I decided to spend my time better than running from them." She sighed, and a sad smile flew over her face. "I'm not your mother, my boy. I am sorry. I was married twenty years ago, but that was in Chicago. I had children, but they were much older than you. I'm sorry." Gently she placed her hand on John's arm.
Out of instinct, he sent her flying against the wall. "Then why do I know you?" A part of him still felt like crying, the other was roaring with anger. He was done with questions, but everywhere he turned, new ones came up. How hard could it be to die?

"Harder than you think." The woman slowly shifted to a sitting position and rubbed her back. "We can't kill, if you haven't noticed, not even ourselves."
This time, John managed to control his thoughts. "Why did you want to kill yourself?" He knew he had seen her before.
"I thought we agreed that I was the one to ask." The woman closed her eyes. "But of course I can't force you." Her voice was flat now, tired. "I knew that sooner or later someone would find me and drive me out. Take this place, see how long you will last on your own before you go insane. There's enough dried food to get you through the next weeks. But let me warn you: if you're already thinking about death, you will lose your mind quickly. In this city, people like us have nothing to hope for, nothing to live for. I thought I would save my family if I left, and maybe I have. In any case, I have damned myself in the process."
John swallowed. "So have I." He closed his eyes, too, as he sat down at the other side of the hall. "Except that I never had a true family to begin with."
"Never? Than whom did you want to protect? I can hear you're troubled but so far your thoughts don't sound crazy to me." She frowned. "Has there been nothing good in your life, my boy?"
"Nothing that didn't turn out foul in the end", John whispered. Jedikiah had used him, his dependence, his youth, his gratitude from being saved from his foster dad. He had given John a home and an education, he had even given him a sort of affection – but only to turn him into a soldier.
Then Roger who… John clenched his teeth, willing the memory of the last night away. The last words Roger had spoken, however, wouldn't leave his mind. Take care of our people. Do what's right. Nobody had ever asked John what he thought was right before.

"See? You are nice." Suddenly, a younger face appeared before John's eyes. Astrid. The girl who lived, despite having met him. Probably because she had not recognized him for the monster he had become. John buried his face in his hands. He had hunted and threatened people. He had killed. And now he had hurt a woman who had shared her home with him. The first one of his kind he had not been forced to drag to ULTRA, and he had slammed her against a wall.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He wasn't sure if his voice would carry through the distance.
I have experienced worse, my dear. There was a calmness about the woman that made it easier to breathe, though John still felt tears in his eyes and throat.
So, this girl. Obviously she had followed his memories. Which meant he had let his guard down for minutes without realizing it. He was tired. So tired. Tell me about her.
Her name is Astrid. John smiled at the thought of her. She wore shoes too high to walk. And she told me she believed in the good.
A clever child. She nodded. "And Astrid is a beautiful name. If I had had a daughter, I would have called her Astrid. Or Amelia." Lost in thoughts, she sighed. "But I have none. Life doesn't always work how we want it to. That's no reason to give up." She shook her head firmly as John tried to answer, take it from someone who has seen more of this world than you, boy: A cause is never lost. You don't lose hope, you give it away willingly. You can't lose it because it is always there.

What do you hope for? His stomach growled, reminding John that his days in freedom were measured – unless he somehow learnt how to steal.
"Right now, I hope for some company when I have dinner", she smiled, and reached for one of the cans. "Peaches, my dear? They're not as horrible as they might smell right now." When John didn't react, she became serious again. "For myself, there is nothing left to hope for. I am old. But every now and then, when I go up and get some food, I listen to the news. I run through peoples' minds, I look for every sign of acceptance. One day, we won't be forced to live like this anymore. Humanity is not lost, and neither are we."
"You think?" John shook his head, wondering how little other people – everyone he had recently spoken to, Roger, Astrid, now this woman – knew about the world. Jedikiah had explained and shown him how it really worked.

Or had he? For the first time, John considered the possibility that Jedikiah was wrong in his opinion about the world. Was there, could there be more behind it? Could there be goodness?

"Astrid would like that", he whispered, more to himself.
The woman smiled. "Then you should try to believe it too, for her sake." She opened the can. "Be my guest. Tomorrow I will show you how to get food yourself."
Thank you. Still hesitantly, John took the can. "I'm John."
"Hello John, I'm Caroline." She motioned behind her. "Welcome to my little lair."