A/N :: I hope you enjoy the chapter! Meant to update earlier, but I'm horrible at keeping on a schedule. Next update should be soonish, already have the chapter written! As always, reviews greatly appreciated!

Chapter 3

~ Promises ~

"Why did you tell me this?" John asked, sometime later.

"You would have discovered at least some of it for yourself soon enough. It was a calculated risk - but I believe you can now fully grasp what I am capable of, and you have some time to adapt." She pushed herself to her feet, the wineglass vanishing from her hand. "Can you stand?"

"I'm not leaving Charlotte."

She sighed, and flicked her wrist at them. The oddest sense of disorientation hit John for the briefest of moments; it was as if he were sitting on the ceiling instead of on the floor. Charlotte's weight drifted off his lap, and then everything reoriented itself with a snap.

John shook his head, trying to rid himself of the lingering sense of disorientation. Charlotte floated about a foot off the floor, her hair and arms slowly drifting like she was underwater. Laura made a sweeping motion, and the girl floated across the room. She smiled as John staggered to his feet. "I thought that might work."

Laura led him down a lavish hallway, stopping at a door at the end. "It's not a bedroom, but I tried to make it comfortable." The door swung open, revealing a bathroom as large as most living rooms. A bathtub the size of a Jacuzzi was sunk into the floor at the far end, and it was filled to the top with blankets and pillows.

John raised an eyebrow.

"What? It was the only room with no windows." She stepped inside, motioning for John to follow her. He cautiously stepped into the room, keeping an eye on Charlotte's floating form.

"I left some food next to the sink, along with toothpaste, soap, and such if you are feeling so inclined." Laura stopped by the sunken bathtub. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Besides our freedom?" John asked drily.

She smiled wolfishly. "Besides that. You know, I think we'll get along splendidly."

John stepped between her and the door when she went to move. "You're not taking Charlotte."

"Yes, I am, John." Her voice echoed strangely in the room, like it was coming from multiple places at once. His eyes widened as Laura started wavering in front of him, like she was simply a reflection on three-dimensional sheet of water. John spun as her image vanished, and he stared at Laura standing in the doorway. "Don't believe everything you see." She smiled hungrily, eyeing him like he was a prize possession. "Sometimes they're just constructs." Both she and Charlotte vanished.

John lunged for the open door, fear and doubt warring in his mind. He slammed into something solid, and he fell back, eyes watering, as he hit the ground. Blood ran down his nose and throat, and he curled onto his side, blinking hard to try to clear his eyes. He sat up slowly, breathing through his mouth as he ignored the pain. In front of him stood two doors, nearly identical. One was opened into the huge bathroom, standing propped open against the wall. The other was closed in its frame, but it didn't have a handle.

John spat blood out of his mouth, then rolled onto his back to slowly work his handcuffed arms around his hips. It was a tight fit, but he managed it. After that it was simply a matter of pulling his legs through his looped arms, and hoping his nose would stop bleeding soon.

John stood slowly, testing his balance. His headache had faded somewhat, but he still was a little unstable. He reached out for the closed door, brushing it with his fingers, before turning toward the other door. Even before he reached it the image wavered in front of him, dissolving in particles of light that quickly faded away.

He eyed the remaining door with little hope. It was massive, old oak, and she had even hidden the hinges somehow. He reached up, feeling along the edge of the doorway, but no further illusions were dispelled. The door was flush against the tile, and instead of a handle, a circular steel plate was cemented against the door. He tried to dig his fingers into the stone-hard glue surrounding the steel, but it felt even harder than the wood. The steel plate didn't have a keyhole, so he couldn't even try to pick the lock.

John kicked at the door in frustration, then backed up for a run. He hit the door hard with his shoulder, falling away and wincing at the pain. "Come on!" He yelled, eyeing the room. The floor and counters looked like smooth, plastic-lacquered granite, with a solid sheet of cold steel supporting the counters instead of traditional wooden cabinets. He kicked at a white-painted wall, wincing as his foot hit something harder than plaster or tile. Unless he had a sledgehammer, John doubted he would be able to get through it.

Even the toilet and faucets were stainless steel, and they wouldn't budge from where they were cemented in. The mirror was a sheet of polished metal, nice to look at, but useless as a weapon. Laura had stripped the bathroom bare.

John stared around him, wondering how he couldn't find some way out in such a situation. He glanced towards the ceiling, catching sight of the air duct covering. It looked small, but it was the only thing he hadn't tried. He fished a quarter out of his pocket before climbing onto the counter, using the wall to stabilize himself. He grabbed a hold of the air vent cover, hope fading as he felt the familiar texture of the epoxy cement. The screws had been covered as well, but he chipped at them hopefully with the quarter.

"Shit!" John swore as the quarter slipped out of his grasp, pinging along the floor. He dropped to the ground, hitting his hands and knees as the room swayed around him. The handcuffs bit into his wrists as he pulled against them, trying to stabilize himself by bracing his hands apart. Slowly the vertigo passed, and John looked around for the quarter. It had rolled only a little ways away, and he picked it up with a feeling of unease. The side of the quarter he had used to chip at the cement was flattened, and a large portion of the quarter had broken off. Epoxy cement wasn't supposed to be anywhere near that hard.

John sat back, leaning against the steel-sided counter. Closing his eyes, he tried to teleport across the room. It was something he had been able to do since he was a child; it should have been easy. Instead, it only gave him a blinding headache. He rubbed his temples, waiting for the pain to subside.

Cara…he had been avoiding thinking about Cara. She had been alive when he last saw her, but he was worried. To have dropped like she did, so quickly; the dose Laura gave her must have been much stronger than his had been. Hopefully, it hadn't been anywhere near as strong as what had happened to Charlotte.

His headache receding, John pushed himself to his feet, determined to look again for a way out.

"You went to Jedikiah?!" Russell exclaimed, outraged. "Are you insane?"

"I didn't tell him everything, give me some credit!"

"Did you tell him about John?"

"Of course not!" Steven grabbed Russell's arm as he started to walk away. "Jedikiah can help her - he said he'd run her blood, see if they could find whatever's causing this!"

"And what else would they find?" Russell snapped back. "No way. You'll bring Ultra down on our heads!"

"Jed would never let anything happen to this place while Morgan's here - you know that!"

"No I don't, and neither do you." Russell grabbed Steven's shoulder, seriously worried. "You shouldn't trust him that much - he would kill you in a heartbeat if he knew you were working with us. Neither John or Cara would want you to risk exposure like this!"

"It's worth it!"

"No it's not, Steven. And I can't let you do it."

Steven ground his teeth in frustration and backed away from Russell. "At least tell me she's getting better." His heart sank when his friend didn't reply. "She's not worse, is she?"

Russell shrugged, glancing at the room they had turned into a sickbay. "Honestly, man, I have no idea. She's just not waking up, and no one can figure out why."

"Any luck with tracking John and Charlotte?"

"No."

"Damn it!" Steven swore, slamming his fist into the wall. He winced at the pain, then leaned his forehead against the wall as he tried to think. "Is there anything else we can do?"

Russell's silence was enough of an answer.

John collapsed onto his own version of a make-shift bed, comprised of a few blankets and pillows, doubled up to provide a little cushion against the hard floor. Even if his balance was still off in the morning, he wanted the best chance he could to be able to fight back. The tub might have been more comfortable, but it would have been a problem to get out of quickly.

He hadn't been able to find a way out - only a note, which he had found after ripping the metal mirror off the wall. It had been written directly onto the wall, and only said, "You should get to bed, John."

After that, he had done his best to completely wreck the bathroom. He had given up after several hours of mostly unsuccessful vandalism attempts.

{Cara?} John wondered if she would be able to hear him even if she was a couple of feet away, his telepathic voice sounded so distorted. {Charlotte? Charlotte!} He called deep into the night, desperately listening for someone's - anyone's - answer.

Steven jerked awake, the last fragments of chaotic dreams flashing before his eyes. The reflected glow of a streetlight shone on the ceiling of his bedroom, and turned the room from black to just past dark. He rolled to his feet, shrugging uncomfortably as cold sweat made his t-shirt stick to his skin. Steven crept across the dark hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The bathroom plunged into darkness, the only light a thin line indicating the bottom of the door. He felt in the darkness for the faucet handle, twisting it on once he found it.

The details of the dreams were already slipping away, but he remembered the panic that had consumed him, the vivid fear, and the blind rage. There had been a box that was too small to move in, tight enough to cut off any avenue of escape. He had been running seemingly without end, and drowning as someone laughed. There was something with glaring lights, but the rest of the details were gone before he had a chance to remember them.

Steven splashed water on his face before twisting the faucet knob until the water trickled to a stop. The house, even the street was silent, an unusual occurrence for the suburbs of New York. A car sped by in the distance as he slipped back out of the bathroom, trying to be silent. He stared at his bed, a restless urge warring with the desire for sleep. It was past two am.

With a sigh, Steven dressed as silently as he could, changing his sweaty t-shirt out for a new one. He crept down the stairs, wincing as a board creaked under his foot. As soon as he shoved his sneakers on, he teleported for the new hideout.

"Steven!" Irene yawned as she struggled to stand up from the couch. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep." Steven glanced towards the door that Cara had been behind. "How is she?"

"She's getting worse. Russell's in there with her now." Steven headed for the door, and Irene flopped back down on the couch with another yawn. "I'll just stay here, then."

"Russell?" Steven inched open the door, sliding into the dimly lit room slowly. Cara was moaning on the make-shift bed, twisting under the covers.

"What are you doing here?" Russell glanced up at him, shifting position as he grabbed Cara's arms. "Never mind. Just help me hold her before she tears out the IV."

Steven grabbed her right arm and shoulder, pushing down as Cara tried to twist onto her side. Her eyes were flickering under her closed eyelids, and she kept mumbling something jumbled enough that Steven couldn't quite make out.

"Hand me that strap," Russell said, pointing to a seat-belt looking thing next to Steven's knee.

"You're going to strap her down?"

"Do you want to hold her down all night?"

Steven grimaced as he passed the strap over to Russell. Cara twisted under his grasp as Russell pulled it tight. "You sure these bolts are going to hold?" He asked, eyeing the thick bolt as it wiggled in the concrete floor..

"No. But it's the only thing we got. Hold her legs down, could you?"

Steven ducked as Cara nearly kicked him in the face, then grabbed her ankles as Russell pulled a second strap across her knees. Cara started screaming, kicking out violently. Steven swore as he got kicked in the face, yelling, "Take it off!"

Russell yanked the strap free as Steven fell away from her legs, scrambling to get back up to her head. He grabbed Cara's shoulders, pushing her back down to the ground. "Cara!" {Cara! Listen to me, it's all right!}

Violent, emotional turmoil hit him hard, briefly blinding him to the real world as crazy images flashed by his eyes. He pulled himself away with difficulty, fighting to clear his mind of the chaos. "Shit." He looked up at Russell, trying to ignore his throbbing head. "Has she pulled you in?"

"Yeah. Earlier. Sorry for not warning you," Russell said softly. Cara's struggles started to slow, her thrashing not as violent, her screams receding back to soft whimpers.

"We need help."

Russell's head jerked up. "No way."

"It's a chance we have to take. She's worse, and nothing we're doing can change it."

"Irene is running tests, trying to find out what's happening."

"By the time she finds something, it might be too late! Jedikiah can use Ultra's resources - we need to do this, Russell."

"Steven's right," Irene said from the doorway. "I don't have the facilities to identify unknown compounds here. We would need sophisticated computers that can run speck analysis. Without TIM, there isn't much I can do. Even with TIM, I'm not sure I could do anything. He might be a super computer, but he can't synthesize unknown compounds."

"Please, you have to trust me."

Russell sight. "It's not you I have a problem trusting. It's that sick uncle of yours. He'll stab us in the back at the soonest opportunity."

"I know that's it a risk, but if we do this, we just need to trust him. Besides, what could he do with a vial of blood?"

"I don't know, that's the point!" Russell threw up his hands, staring at Steven like he was out of his mind.

"Steven?"

Steven glanced around at Irene's hesitant question. "Yeah?"

"Why are you trusting your uncle?"

"Do you see another choice?"

John woke up suddenly, expecting to hear his watch alarm. He glanced at the time piece, quickly noting that it wasn't set to go off for several minutes more. It was almost six am; he had been dozing on and off during the night, hoping she wouldn't be able to catch him asleep. John rolled to his feet, handcuffs tugging at his wrists. He walked over to the sink to splash water on his face.

Did she really think he'd believe her? Magic and sorcery and vanishing chairs notwithstanding, he was having a hard time convincing himself last night was real. She could just be one of Tomorrow People, albeit an extremely powerful one, messing with his mind. That would be a more likely scenario than magic.

Soft footsteps caused him to jerk around, staring at the door with no handle. John quietly moved off to the side of the door as it started to swing open, grabbing the woman as she walked into the room. She didn't make a sound, didn't even resist as he twisted her arm behind her, slamming her to the ground. John stared in confusion at the blonde girl in a maid's outfit, then glanced around him, expecting to see Laura nearby.

"Madam requests your presence in the dining hall," the girl said in a strange monotone. Her eyes were blank and staring, and she only blinked occasionally. John had her arm twisted far enough back that it should have hurt, but she didn't give any indication that it did.

"Where's Charlotte?"

"Madam requests your presence in the dining hall."

"Where's Charlotte?" He demanded again, twisting her arm a little harder. She didn't seem to notice.

"I am to lead you there," she said in the same flat voice.

"No thanks." John shoved himself to his feet, cautiously stepping out the doorway.

The girl slowly got to her feet, turning to face him. "I am to lead you there," she repeated, eyes blank and unfocused. "It is this way." She walked down the hallway, stopping when John didn't follow her. "That is not the way to go."

"Exactly," he muttered, turning the other direction. By what he had seen so far, the house must be massive. He might not be able to find Charlotte on his own, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. {Charlotte?}

{John!} Her voice was distant and wavered slightly, but it was there.

{Where are you? I'm coming for you.}

{I'm with her, but I have no idea where!} her mental voice trembled with fear. {I can't do anything! I tried teleporting when I woke up this morning, but I nearly blacked out!}

{Maybe we hold off on the teleporting for now.}

{Okay,} she replied softly, her voice still fearful.

He ducked down another corridor, pulling open doors. The rooms were lavishly decorated, varying from bedrooms to sitting rooms, and one even had a billiards table in the center. He slammed the door shut in frustration, glancing down the hall at a glimmer of reflected light.

{John?}

{Yeah?}

{I'm scared.}

{I know.} He paused. {It will be alright.}

Hoping for a window, John jogged towards it. He slowed to a stop as he approached the glass pane, glinting and glimmering in the wall. It looked like it should have been a regular window, with curtains and window planes, but it glistened like a black liquid, held vertical in the window's spot. He reached out and brushed the smooth surface with his fingers, half surprised they came away dry. It even felt like a normal glass window, except that he couldn't see through it.

There was a staircase on his left, another hall on his right. On random impulse, he went down the stairs.

{John?} Charlotte asked again. {Do you think we will get out of here?}

John hesitated as he ran down the steps, even though he yearned to reassure her. {I don't know, Charlotte. She's powerful. But we're smart, and we've got some aces too.}

{Like what?}

{Do you really think she'd let us keep talking if she knew?}

{No!} Charlotte said hopefully. {Do you think Cara will be able to hear us soon?}

{I think so. Cara has to get better first, though.}

{Oh.} Again, a long pause. John reached a landing, hesitated, then continued down the stairs. He descended slowly, listening to the uneasy feeling in his gut. It was like he had forgotten something important. Something … dangerous.

{Do you think she's alive?}

{Cara? Yes.} Even as he said it, he knew he believed it. {She's a fighter,} he continued with complete sincerity. {If anyone can throw off Laura's influence, she can.} He left the stairs at the next landing, stepping out into the hallway. He walked down the hall, passing doors and casually dismissing the impulse to check inside. His goal would be at the end of the hall.

A brunette maid walked out of one of the rooms and he stopped dead as she curtsied to him. Her blank eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he watched her walk into the next room before a shiver ran up his spine. John glanced behind him, the hallway stretching away, as cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He started backing up, turning to run back the way he came. He hadn't planned on coming this way. He hadn't wanted to. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the notion that if he went this way, he would find a door. An escape. The notion wasn't his. It had to have been planted.

He ran harder, zigzagging across the hall to check rooms as he passed them. He had to find Charlotte.

A laugh rang through the hallway, and resounding through his mind even as he glanced around for the source. The laughter inside his head echoed and overlapped the laughing in the hall, building into a strange symphony that put his teeth on edge. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It made him feel unclean, as if someone was laughing in his ear, or was messing with his head.

"What do you want?" He yelled, spinning to look around him. "What do you want from me?"

The laughter lowered in volume, fading but not completely gone. "Well done, John, you recognized my influence. I rather hoped you would." Laura's voice purred in his head, soft laughter blending with her words. "Now come along. We don't want to keep Charlotte waiting, do we?"

The laughter faded away slowly, until John was left in a quiet, empty hall. He swallowed, glancing up and down the hall. Laura's message had left him shaken. Unlike when one of his own kind spoke to him, everything about Laura was an intrusion. It echoed, distorting and overlapping as she spoke, and left him with a throbbing headache.

"Come along, John. Just follow the directions in your head."

"Steven!"

He groggily opened his eyes at his mom's call, and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was just past six thirty.

"Steven, come down here now! Luca, it's time to get up!"

"Coming!" He yelled back as he rolled out of bed to get dressed.

"What did you do this time?" Luca mumbled as Steven passed his room. "She sounds pissed."

Steven yawned as he headed down the stairs. "What's up, mom?"

"What is this?" She held up a vial of blood, and Steven was completely awake in an instant. "Why do you have blood in the fridge?"

Steven rushed down the stairs, taking it from her and putting it back into the fridge. "It's for Ultra. Like a science project. They're teaching us about the chemicals in blood and how they react to different environments."

"And you had to bring it home?"

Steven was glad he was facing away from her. "Jed said something about responsibility."

His mom sighed, gripping his shoulder as she passed him. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will."

"Steven brought blood home from work? Cool!" Luca laughed as he tromped down the stairs.

"You heard that?" Steven groaned.

"Yep. What's for breakfast? I'm starving."

"Pancakes. Steven, would you mind setting the table?"

"Sure," Steven said, his heart still thumping in his chest. He was getting better at lying, but he wasn't sure he liked it.

"John!" Charlotte flung herself out of the wooden chair with a shriek, jumping onto him with all the energy of a run-away freight train.

"Oof." He staggered back, her arms twined around his neck, handcuffed arms squished between the two of them. For a moment he just stood there, silently appreciating Charlotte's familiar presence. Following Laura's directions had left him unnerved and jumpy. It had been one of the most disturbing experiences of his life. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She said softly as she dropped back to the floor. "You?"

"Yeah." John looked over at Laura, who was calmly eating at the massive wooden table in the center of the room. She smiled politely at him, then returned to her food.

"Do your wrists hurt?" Charlotte asked softly, eyeing him with worry.

John shook his head. His wrists were reddened by the handcuffs, but they didn't hurt that much. "I'm fine."

"She said that we're suppose to eat." Charlotte glanced at the long table; two plates had been set next to each other at the farthest end from Laura.

"It might be a good idea." John said, trying to ignore his growling stomach.

"Do you think it's safe?" Charlotte asked dubiously.

"I don't know. What is there?" John asked, but with what Laura seemed to be capable of, he doubted the food would be poisoned.

"She said 'anything that doesn't require a massive amount of cooking.'"

John snorted at Charlotte's impression, getting a small smile out of the girl. "Well, we need the food. What do you want?"

"Chocolate chip pecan pancakes," she said quick enough that John laughed.

"Been thinking about it a bit, have you?"

"Only a little," she said sheepishly. "What do you want?"

"Pancakes sound good."

"Sir!" Steven ran up the last few steps as he caught sight of his uncle.

"Isn't it a school day?" Jedikiah asked, frowning as he turned away from several Ultra agents.

"Yeah, but this is important. I can talk to you privately?"

"Please excuse me," Jed said flatly, grabbing Steven by the arm and leading him into his office. "What are you doing?" He snapped after he closed the door.

Steven stared at him for a second before he got his bearing back. "I thought you wanted…"

Jedikiah rolled his eyes as he headed for the desk. "Not by interrupting me, not by sneaking off before school, and certainly not by acting as if the world's going to end if you don't talk to me right now!"

"How else was I suppose to get the blood to you before school?" Steven asked, stung.

"First off by following decorum, not interrupting me in the middle of a meeting, and waiting your turn. Do you understand me?" Jed rubbed his temples, irritation showing in his face.

"Yes sir," Steven replied stiffly. "But I got her blood."

"I gathered that," Jed said dryly. "But I am surprised that you managed to get it at all."

"She's getting worse."

"Ah." Jed turned away, opening several desk drawers. "That would explain it."

"Can you help her?"

"I don't know Steven. I don't believe we should."

Steven bit his lip, looking away from Jed. "This woman who attacked the guards -"

"Assuming it is the same person."

"Assuming that, yes," Steven said impatiently. "She's dangerous, right? She broke into your secret lab and stole from you without even being caught on camera. If the compounds in Cara's blood help you understand what she's capable of, wouldn't that make it worth it?"

"It could help." Jed took the vial of blood from him and slid it into a paper bag. "Now you'd better get off to school before you get both of us in trouble."

"Yes sir."

He couldn't breathe. A thick cord of pressure wrapped around John's neck, holding him off the ground. He kicked frantically, trying to find the chair that should have been nearby.

"I don't need her John! I only need you!" Laura's voice resounded through the room, slamming through his skull with a jarring impact. He clawed at the pressure around his neck, feeling thick air move around his fingers like jelly. "Either control her or I will," her face flooded into his vision, seemingly only inches away. He reached out to grab her as her voice faded, but the image waivered and vanished as he touched it. John caught a glimpse of Laura across the room, pressing a bloody rag against her shoulder. She was livid, snarling at him, hair disarrayed as it fell around her shoulders.

Then the pressure around his neck released and John collapsed to the ground, gasping. His right arm burned in pain, and cradled it against his chest as he sucked in air. The room slowly came into focus, but his mind swirled with confusion. He couldn't remember - something must have happened - but he couldn't remember. Frantically, he tried to retrace what had happened. Charlotte had asked him about pancakes. They sat down to eat. A vague impression of Charlotte giggling about something. Laura rolling her eyes. Then nothing. Laura had been so furious with him and Charlotte, but he had no clue why.

Charlotte. He paused, head spinning as he turned to look around him. Where - there. "Charlotte?" John rasped as he turned over, hissing in pain as his arm hit the carpet. He pulled himself up to his hands and knees, taking care not to let his right arm touch anything. John lurched over to the girl, eyeing her still form with worry. She was wrapped around one of the table legs like she had been flung into it.

He gently pulled her onto her back, hoping he had understood Laura right. Hoping that it meant she wasn't dead. "Charlotte!" He rasped, shaking her lightly. She was barely breathing, her eyes flickering rapidly in their sockets. He shook her harder, and her eyelids fluttered, then closed again. "Charlotte!" John yelled, slapping her face when she didn't respond. {Come on, wake up!}

She jerked away from the slap, eyes rolling back in her head as her mouth opened in a soundless scream. "Charlotte!" {Charlotte, it's okay! It's John, it'll be okay!} She struggled against his grip, eyes unfocused and flaring wide in panic. "Charlotte!" John grabbed her wrists, struggling to hold the small girl down. He leaned over her, wincing as she hit his injured arm. {Charlotte!}

The girl's eyes started to focus on him, and her slowly her struggles eased. {Charlotte, are you okay?}

Her eyes dropped to his wrists, and he followed her gaze, swallowing hard as he took a good look at them. He uncurled his bloody wrists from around hers, his flesh lacerated where the handcuffs had cut into his flesh. A shiny red burn wrapped around his right arm from the palm of his hand to his elbow. He stared at it, wondering how it happened. It started to burn, as if even thinking about the burn caused it to hurt. {I'm sorry,} Charlotte's whisper had him jerking his eyes away from the burn, trying to force the pain away. He focused on the girl, her eyes shining with unshed tears. {I'm so sorry! I tried, John, I tried!}

{No, hey, it's not your fault,} John pulled her close, looping his arms around her and pulling her close with his left arm. She buried her face in his shoulder and silently sobbed. A quiet certainty filled him - Laura had been messing with his head. That much was evident from his memory loss.

His eyes fell on a bloody fork lying nearby, and everything fell in place. {You stabbed her with the fork, didn't you?}

{I couldn't let her keep hurting you!} She wailed, clutching tighter to him.

He let a soft chuckle reach her telepathically. {She was pretty pissed.}

{Really?} Charlotte looked up at him, checks wet from tears running down her face. He moved his burned arm away from her as she moved, trying not to wince as her clothes brushed the injury.

{Yeah. I think you got her good.}

{Good.} Charlotte snapped viciously, mouth tightening in anger.

{Thanks, girl.} John rested his chin on her head as she leaned back into him. {But I need you to promise me something.}

"What?" Charlotte mumbled.

{I need you to promise that no matter what happens, no matter how she hurts me, you will never do anything like that again.}

John winced in pain as Charlotte shoved away from him, ducking to slide under his arms. "No!"

"Charlotte…"

"No way!" Charlotte screamed at him as she stumbled to her feet. "You can't ask me that! Look what she did to you!"

"Charlotte!" John shoved himself to his feet, grabbing Charlotte's shoulder with his left hand. He leaned over, searching her angry, tear-filled eyes. "Charlotte, she needs me alive. She does not need you alive. She will kill you."

"I don't care!"

"Charlotte!" John shook her, hard. He hoped she could see his desperation. "Listen to me. This is not Ultra." Her mouth tightened into a thin line, eyes hardening as she glared at him. "Ultra follows rules, regulations. The Citadel is an awful place, trust me, I know. But she is not interested in us. She wants me. If you hurt her again, she'll kill you."

Charlotte shook her head violently, looking away from John. "No," she whispered, doubt filling her face.

"Yes!" Relief flooded him. He was getting through to her. "She will do anything she can to break me, do you understand?" She nodded slowly. "Up to and including torturing you."

Charlotte jerked, terror filling her eyes.

"I will not let anything happen to you, I promise. Okay?"

"No," she whispered, and John saw the realization of what he was implying hit her.

"Yes," he said again, softer. "I will be fine. I need you safe, unharmed. If you find out you can teleport, you get out that instant. Do you understand me?"

"No!" She hissed quietly, fear making her tremble under John's hand.

"If she doesn't have you, I can take her. You need to promise me. Promise me!"

Her mouth opened, then closed. She shook her head. "I can't leave you here."

"Yes you can. Promise me."

"I promise," she said so softly that John almost didn't hear it.

"I need one other promise. You won't fight her, no matter what she does to me."

"What if…" her voice trailed off. She couldn't look him in the eyes.

"If she kills me?" John looped his handcuffed arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "Then you need to run as fast as you can, fight as hard as possible," he whispered. "Use anything, every trick you know. Shove everything you have into that scream and drop her in her tracks."

Charlotte nodded against his shoulder, and he struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice. If Laura killed him, Charlotte would be next on her list. "Then you hightail it back to Cara, you hear me?"

"Yes."

He swallowed again, closing his eyes and just holding the young girl. He would get them out if he could. He just didn't know if that was possible anymore.

"Any news?" Steven asked once he was alone with Jedikiah.

Jedikiah looked up from the clipboard he was holding, looking like he was resisting a temptation to roll his eyes. Or glare at him. Steven inwardly winced. "I will tell you once we have something. Until then, don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Jed opened the door to the command center, handing the clipboard to the agent at the door as he entered.

Steven followed him in, sliding past his uncle as he headed towards an open monitor. There was so many cameras in down town New York that Ultra had pulled all available personnel to be extra eyes. Since probationary agents were less useful than full agents, that meant Steven had been one of the first to be drafted.

Steven slid into his seat, glancing at the far wall where hundreds of pictures lined the walls. Next to each one were note cards filled with information tracking every single person who had been within three blocks of Ultra when the guards were killed. Steven sighed, turning on his computer and picking up the picture of a middle-aged man who he was suppose to be tracking.

Steven brought up the camera angle of the building's front door, and hit fast-forward. He had tracked the man entering the building at just after noon, but no one had noticed him leaving. Steven stared at the screen as cars and people whipped past, pausing the video every time the front doors swung open. The timestamp ran forward, passing from mid-afternoon to evening. The door swung open again, and Steven hit pause, having to back up the tape as the person had already exited. "Ha!"

"What's up?" The IT guy sitting next to him asked, eyes still glued to his own screen.

"Found my guy, finally." Steven let the tape play forward, switching to different camera angles to follow the man into a subway station. "We can take him off the list."

"One down, only about a million to go."

"No kidding." Steven headed over to the picture wall, unpinning the guy's primary photo and note cards, scribbling down the time he had left the building and when he had entered the subway station. He stapled everything together and dropped it into a box labeled 'subway.'

"Any progress with your person?" Steven asked as he slid back into his seat and picked up the next picture. This time it was an older woman, likely in her sixties, well dressed and escorted by an older gentlemen. On the back of the card was where they had first been spotted, and the camera angles that they had so far been located in.

"Not much. This girl doesn't show up until nine pm, and I haven't seen her leaving the store since."

"Back door?"

"Not that customers are suppose to use."

Steven was pulling up the camera angles on the older couple when the IT guy muttered something. "What did you say?"

The guy froze the camera and started backing it up. "I said I must have missed her. The store just closed up but she never left."

Steven felt a chill run up the back of his neck as he leaned towards his neighbor. "What does she look like?"

The man shoved a gritty street camera photo over to him. Even the poor quality of the photo couldn't hide her looks. Russell had given him a mental glimpse of the woman; it was her. Long hair pulled back into a strict ponytail, high cheekbones and severe features. "You sure she never left the store?"

"That's why I'm checking again."

"I think we should call Jedikiah over," Steven said softly.

The man looked up at him, frowning. "You know something I don't?"

Steven locked gazes with him. "Call Jedikiah over."

The man's eyes narrowed as he stared at Steven thoughtfully. "Dr. Price?" He leaned back in his chair, catching Jedikiah's attention and waving him over. "There's something we think you need to see."

Jedikiah glanced at Steven, who handed him the photo. He looked up at his nephew, and Steven nodded. Jed turned to the IT guy, placing the photo back on his desk. "What do you have?"

"She enters this store at 9:05, but I didn't see her leave. They closed up at 10:15pm."

"Any other exits?"

"One that we know of, it lets out onto an alley across from Ultra. But it should have been locked."

Jed nodded, glancing at the picture again. "Alright. Both of you, on this woman. Track her down."

"Yes sir," they chorused at the same time.

"I'm Sam."

"Steven," Steven replied, taking Sam's offered hand with a smile.

"I got her!"

"What? Where?" Steven leaned over, peering into Sam's screen. All he could see was a dark store front, and a lot of glass.

"There," Sam pointed to the edge of the screen, at a reflection barely visible.

"Seriously?"

"Look closely - that's a reflection of Ultra's steps. That's a woman walking up it, ponytail and all."

"Damn." Steven leaned back in his chair, impressed. "Nice catch."

"Dr. Price!" Sam waved his hand. "We've got her!"

Jedikiah swiftly came over to their station, leaning over to look at Sam's screen. "Great job," he said softly. He straightened, glancing around the room as he held up the woman's picture. "New focus, people! This woman - find everything you can. Track down every angle - I want to know who she is!

"You two," Jed turned back to them as the rest of the room burst into a frenzy of activity. "See if you can track her backwards. Maybe she'll lead us to her."