In the following days, John learnt to survive. He learnt to navigate through the tunnels, learnt when it was safe to get up to the streets (never, but if you had to get up, between 2:30 and 4:30 in the morning), where to steal food, and where to wash his clothes (in an old washing machine Caroline had stolen years ago and that, miraculously, still worked). Minutes of explanation for hours and hours of training just like it had been in ULTRA headquarters, but without the threats of what would happen if John failed. He didn't fail, though – being on his own was not a new experience, and he was keen on picking up every word, every gesture of the elder woman… everything that kept his mind busy for a few hours.
At night, however, there was no escape.

"Where are we going?" John tried to stop but the man's grip on his hand was too strong. He could do nothing but stumble after him through the dense crowd, crossing more streets than felt necessary to get to where they ended up – in front of a large, striking building in what seemed like the center of the world. John had been in New York before – his birth certificate proved that – but before today, he had had no idea of how big it really was. How easy it would have been to get lost, disappear into the labyrinth and start a new life. Anything was better than with his foster father. Probably that was why they had never come here.
"Finally." The grip around his hand loosened but Dr. Price didn't let go as they crossed the street and walked towards the door. "Home, sweet home." He nodded at the two heavily armed men obviously guarding it, and John was surprised at their respectful answer. The doctor was a quiet man from what he had noticed in the past few hours, headstrong and intelligent but not exactly a people magnet. He didn't look at all like a leader, not like the ones he had read about.
Whatever. If he had the power to save John – and probably his siblings, too – then that was fine with him.
"What-" His throat felt dry. After all the noise, the hallway they were in now was almost impossibly quiet. They were alone except for a young man at the reception. Price also nodded towards him before he led John to an elevator, his hand now firmly on the boy's shoulder. "Go on." He sounded amused but not uninterested. "Ask your questions. Remember, I can't pull them out of your head directly."
Which proved another question. How could a normal man be leading people who were – apparently – more powerful than he was himself? But starting with that didn't feel like a great idea, and asking for his foster brothers neither. They would have to hold on for a couple of days.
"Who's following us?"
Price looked at him in surprise. "Why do you think we-"
"You looked back every third corner, we crossed some streets four times. And you always keep to the buildings."
Dr. Price looked at him with new appreciation. "You're a good observer, John. Which means", he sighed, "that there won't be an ending to your questions, I guess." The doors opened and he motioned the teenager out into a narrow, white hallway. "About this place, about our science,… about yourself, most of all. You are special, John." He stopped in front of a white door. "Your room. Tonight, your dinner will be brought to you, tomorrow I'll show you around and you'll eat with the others."
"But-"
"Not tonight." Price held up a hand in warning, and instinctively John cringed. Would the doctor hit him, too?
"I'm sorry." The elder man dropped his hand. "You don't need to be afraid here, John. You are safe with us. Tomorrow I will answer every question you ask, and then I will ask you one question. I will ask you if you want to stay here and help us protecting the world. You can be a hero, John Young." Something close to a smile crossed the doctor's lips. "Don't answer now. It's been a long day, and tomorrow won't be a stroll in the park."
John tensed. "What do I have to do?" He had heard stories of other boys his age, boys who had not drunk foster fathers but lusty foster mothers at home. Stories that made him want to scream, made him want to take them and lead them away, far away, to a place where nobody would ever harm them again. A place where he would never fail anyone again.
"Oh, John."
He looked up. Dr. Price's face was serious now, almost sad, and tired – he looked older than he had before. Less like a scientist. More like a… John swallowed. He knew better than to still wish for a father.
"I don't know what you've been through", Price said, voice and eyes filled with sympathy, "but I swear you will never have to endure such things again."
I swear nobody will ever hurt you if you choose to stay here and help us. You are tomorrow, John! You are the future. You can make sure that your past will never be anyone's present again.
John backed away. Price's confused face was answer enough. The voice had spoken in his head. It had spoken directly to him, finding a more powerful and more elegant way to communicate than human words could ever do.
Careful not to move his lips, John thought, who are you?
Tomorrow, John. The voice, hard and powerful, sounded amused. Didn't you hear Dr. Price? It's late. Sleep now.
"Sleep now", echoed Price, obviously without knowing. John nodded hastily. "Thank you, Dr. Price."
The older man chuckled, but there was – as seemed to be permanently – a touch of darkness to it. "Dr. Price was my grandfather. Call me…" He broke off, and straightened. "Dr. Price."

He hardly slept that night, naturally, not only because of all the questions in his mind but also because of the powerful voice that had been inside it – right inside his head, as if his thoughts were open for the world to see. John forced his hands to relax. Whatever had been intruding his mind was gone now, he was alone. More alone than he had ever been before, without any of his siblings crying or snoring. He had never before had a room of his own, and even now, it seemed pointless. What did he need all that space for?
Eventually he decided not to wait for Dr. Price's company any longer. If he really was that special, surely it wouldn't hurt too much to go out on his own? After all – judging from Price's reactions – they had no idea about punishing here. Whatever they had in store, John was sure he had lived through worse.

How wrong he had been with that. John shook his head as if to get the thought out of his head, but it was as the founder's voice had been, powerful, foreign, impossible to be driven out by John's own will. The founder – it must have been him – hadn't exactly lied, then. John wasn't easily hurt anymore, not by others. He had quickly turned the best of them all, better even than most of those who had been living with ULTRA since they were kids. And what little he couldn't do by skill, he would win with strength of mind. Caging himself in was his first instinct, and he quickly learnt that he could also cage in his thoughts, build a wall between his mind and those of his comrades. Rivals, more. Fighting against each other, playing mind games, hurting and chasing their own species…
"What for, Jed?"

"What did you say?"
He looked up, staring at Caroline at loss for a few seconds. "Sorry… I didn't…"
"You've been arguing with this man since you've come here", the woman kindly said. "Maybe you should let someone else in."
John frowned. "What do you mean I've been arguing…" he stopped as she sent him a memory; himself thrashing around with closed eyes, whispering accusations, pleas, names.
Jed. Tony. Dean. Sara. Jed. And Roger, over and over again, Roger.

"I didn't mean to intrude your privacy", Caroline smiled, "if such a thing exists for us. But I really think you should talk about it. I may not have answers, but I'm a fairly good listener."
John shrugged and tried to smile. "I don't trust people who claim to have all the answers." But when he tried to tell Caroline what had happened, he found that he couldn't speak. Not only about Roger but also about his time at ULTRA. How could he tell this woman that he used to haunt, catch and kill their kind? That if he had met her weeks ago, she would have been caught and robbed of her powers, too?

Protect our kind. A week ago, it had sounded crazy because for John, there had been no "our kind", no one worth being protected. And no place to bring them.
Now, it sounded crazy because there might be someone worth saving – what did he know, after all – but even if… he could not lead them. Everytime Caroline smiled at him, accepting his secrets and his nightmares without asking, John realized anew what Jedikiah had made of him. He could no longer blame Roger for putting the last sin on his shoulders; he had been long past saving before.

"Do you want to get out of the city?", he asked casually over a can of baked beans. Caroline shrugged. "I'm okay with New York."
"But wouldn't you like to go home? To see your children?"
Caroline closed her eyes. "It's impossible, John. Why do you ask? Why…" She shook her head. "Is it really that horrible here with me?"
"You know it's not." John had learnt to smile again. Gently he took her hands in his. "You have saved my life. And I want you to be happy. I can help you getting out."
Caroline frowned. "Without getting killed? I mean yourself", she quickly added as John wanted to answer, "I've seen you fighting the air enough. I know you can protect me."
Can you? Somehow, it felt right to let her hear the question, though it carried the risk that she would dig deeper.
You can. The strength of her belief in him was palpable in her mind, just as it had been in Roger's, and Jed's, and it hurt like a knife to John's heart. Both brothers had believed in him, and both had paid for it. Roger was dead, and Jedikiah… what had they done to him? It had been his responsibility to bring John back, and he had failed.

ULTRA didn't allow failure.

The air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs as the room started to spin around John. He had condemned him to death. His mentor, his torturer,… in a way it fit that the monster now turned against his creator. It was a classic in literature, wasn't it?

"Jed." He had avoided saying and even thinking the name in his conscious hours, and now the dam broke. John buried his face in his hands as the memories of his flight came before his eyes.
"John?" Caroline's soft voice was suddenly sharp as she shared the flood of pictures. "What is this? Who is this?"
"Jedikiah Price. He was my…" John shivered. No matter how much he hated the man, he wouldn't have wanted him dead. Surely Jed had known that,… and he had known what would happen to him when John left. He had known that the price for John's freedom would be his own death.

John closed his eyes and opened his mind, searching for anyone above thinking about the man he hated and owed more than anyone else, more even than Roger. Telepathy never had been his strongest point, especially not widespread like that, but if there was any trace of Jedikiah still alive, he would find it.
"… he made me who I am." It wasn't the answer Caroline was hoping for, but it was the safest thing John could say. The truest thing he could say, in every way.
"Then we should go and help him if he's in trouble." The wiry woman stood up. "Come on."
"What?"
"Up." Any spark of softness was gone. Caroline's look had hardened, and when John reached for her thoughts, he found her mind closed. For the first time John understood how she had survived down here on her own for so long; she was a warrior.
Caroline nodded. "I've been fighting only for myself long enough."
"He's human."
She smiled sadly. "Of course he is. Why would he want to chase one of his own?"
"Indeed." John's voice was flat, his whole body felt heavy as lead.
She could never know. Never.

But if they saved Jedikiah, surely it would come out. And John would lose not only his freedom but also Caroline. A talk about shoes with a little girl would be the only good thing in his life that didn't end up bad.
"Astrid." He whispered her name into the air like a prayer.
"Focus, John", Caroline snapped with an impatience John had never seen on her before, "we need to get up now."
"You can't come with me."
"I'm stronger than I look."
"I don't doubt that", he smiled. "But I can't look after both you and Jedikiah. It's too dangerous."
"I'm not asking you to look after me."
"I don't want to lose you." Don't you see? Everyone else I cared for is dead. John swallowed. He understood her eagerness to leave and do something that made sense – he felt trapped enough down here after a mere week. Please.

Caroline shook her head. "I get that you're worried, but I won't let your superstitions hinder me help this man."
"Why?" John shook his head in exasperation. "Why do you suddenly want to risk everything for a man you don't know?"
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to scream at him. Then she closed her eyes. "Jedikiah's a rare name."
"So?"
"His face… I saw his face in your dreams. He has a brother, doesn't he?"
"He had." John tensed. Talking about that night made him choke.
"Roger", Caroline whispered, "the younger one. Dark hair, curious about everything, but never so eager to examine. Jedikiah is the more patient one." She took a deep breath and John knew. Knew why she looked so familiar.

"They're my sons. And I won't let you kill the other one as well."