Over twelve long hours later, they were back in the United States, setting up camp in a hotel room.

Money wouldn't be an object anymore. Having an illusionist around was rather handy; the right sized piece of paper could instantly become any bill they wanted.

"I have a question, if you don't mind." Ella said to Teresa, carefully sitting on the bed across from her.

Teresa looked up, finishing taking her shoes off. "Sure." She said, straightening up. "Shoot."

"How come, back in China, it was only your clothes that changed back to normal when you lost your concentration, and not your appearance?"

Teresa smiled. "You're pretty smart. And when it happened, I was even hoping that you hadn't noticed anything had changed." Ella just smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, the farther away it is from me, the harder it is to keep up. But that's not the main reason." Teresa paused, and Ella remained silent, waiting. "When I accidently dropped the illusion on my clothes, it just reverted back to what I was actually wearing. But . . . there's nothing to revert back to for my appearance."

Ella's forehead creased. "What do you mean?"

"I guess, when I change my appearance, it's changed. I don't have a 'real' me, or whatever. I don't know what I 'really' look like, how I was born."

Ella's eyes widened. "You – you don't? Oh, that's – I'm sorry,"

"No, no, don't be." Teresa said, smiling as she waved her off. "I don't mind."

"Besides, then you get to choose who you are. You're free, you truly get to choose your identity." Six said, joining in the conversation.

Teresa nodded. "Exactly."

"So you really didn't know anything, about any of this." Six said, sitting criss-crossed on the bed.

"No." Teresa replied, moving over a bit to make room for her.

"You just thought you were an orphan, then, I guess?"

"Yes." She answered, shrugging. "I mean, I knew I was different. Obviously. And I had – have – these, memories, I guess. They're starting to make sense now, the more I think about them. I used to think they were just dreams. But I think they must be of that day, when the Mogadorians attacked, and we came to Earth. There's always a lot of blue light. People running around, everywhere. Chaos. And then it'll just be blue, and people screaming." She broke off, her eyes a million miles away.

"What did you think of the scars?" Ella asked, curiously, after a moment. "It must have been really weird when you got them."

"I was scared out of my mind." Teresa said grinning, rubbing the spot on her leg. "The first time, I think Ms. Maria – my foster mother – thought I had gone crazy, the other kids told her I had just started screaming and holding my leg. When I showed her the scar, I think she thought I had joined some kind of gang, or something."

"The other two were a bit easier," she went on. "I was still terrified. But I managed to forget about it sometimes. And it was always over pretty quickly. I just assumed it was another way I was different, like with being able to change appearance at will. So, I guess I was kind of right, actually."

"I remember when I got my second one," Six said after a moment. "I was in school. I was scared out of my wits, but I was even more scared that someone would notice if I screamed, or even if I moved, that someone would suspect something and figure it all out, and I would be as good as gone. So I just sat there, trying not even to grimace even though it hurt so much. And then I got this weird idea that there might be more than one scar being burned into my leg, and that maybe all of the other ones before me had been killed, and the Mogs were coming for me now. It was pretty stupid, I mean, I could feel the scar being burned into me, obviously there was only one. But I was so scared that I believed it. I was so paranoid that I went to the bathroom so I could check, and I ended up just leaving and going home for the rest of the day."

Six traced over the second scar lightly, a bemused expression on her face. Teresa looked thoughtful.

"It was hard not knowing what they meant, but it must have been almost harder to know, I guess." She said slowly. "I mean, you knew, every time you got one, that it meant that someone had died, and that they were one closer to killing you."

Six nodded grimly. "But you're being generous. Up until a little while ago, none of us knew one another. It was just a stranger dying. It was more purely selfish reasons, knowing we were coming closer to death."

"Maybe," Teresa said shrugging. "But if you were really selfish, you would be off hiding, instead of running around with Number Four."

Six gave a slight smile. "The third scar I got right after my cepan died. That was when I started looking for Four."

Ella lightly touched the corresponding scar on her leg. "The third scar was the first one I ever got with Daniel." She said. "It was – terrifying. I think it was almost as much so for him as for me. He'd never seen one before. You'd think it wouldn't be as bad, after having happened twice before. But it isn't." She paused, and shrugged her shoulders. "It was after that we decided to move to D.C."

"This is going to sound really petty," Six said, looking at the identical marks on the other two girls' legs. "But the thing I always hated most about them was having to keep my legs covered up."

Something broke in the air between them, and they started to laugh. "I know exactly what you mean." Teresa said. "The scars are the one thing I've never been able to change about my appearance – I can't cover them up, or hide them, for some reason."

"Knee socks get old pretty fast," Six said.

"And it sucks to not wear shorts when it's over a hundred degrees outside." Ella added.

"But it's either that, or getting weird looks and questions everywhere you go."

"Sweating it out, or scrutiny." Six said with a sigh. "I just let it go sometimes. But I never could in school. Kids notice everything when they're bored in class. And then you're branded as the scarred girl forever."

"As if we weren't already branded enough." Ella said.

"Make up can only do so much." Teresa sighed.

"Make up," Six said, rolling the word around in her mouth. "I never thought of trying that. Do you have any on you?"

Teresa shrugged, blinking her eyes. Suddenly, she had lime green eye shadow. She blinked again, and it turned a sparkling purple. Again, and a smoky eye. Six and Ella simply stared at her.

"That must come in so handy." Ella said at last.

Teresa nodded. "Once you get past the weirdness, it's actually pretty awesome."

"How long'd it take you to get past the weirdness, without ever having someone explain it to you?"

"A bit quicker than it probably should have." Teresa admitted.

"How long?" Six asked again, grinning.

"Only a couple of months after I figured it out. I just couldn't resist." Teresa blushed, looking down at her knees.

"That's a good thing." Six said, smiling outright. "It's probably what kept you alive."

Sam grumbled as he sat himself down next to John. "Tomorrow, we are so getting a car." He stared moodily over at the group of girls, gossiping on the beds, their legs spread out in front of them, tracing subconsciously over the scars.

"You aren't seriously in a mood over having to walk here from the airport, are you?" John asked.

"No." Sam sighed. "It's just," He gestured helplessly over to the girls. "Every time we meet the next number, I'm the outsider again. All of you guys can instantly relate to one another. You're all Lorien. You all had these protectors. You all have memories of Mog attacks. You all have those scars. And I don't."

"That's a good thing Sam, not something to be mad about."

"I guess. But you guys have all this stuff in common, immediately."

"And you have stuff in common with every other person on Earth immediately. You're actually of the same species, were born on the same planet. Don't you get it Sam, that's huge." John didn't even know what he was trying to express with his hands, waving them around, but he felt as though he were getting something off his chest. "And I know dude, I can definitely sympathize with you. But seriously, this is the only group where you would feel like this."

"Of course." Sam said, but he was smiling. "Just my luck that I pick you guys to hang out with then."

"Luck? More like bad judgment, stupid."

"Hey! I'm the brains of this operation!"

"Looks like we're doomed then."

"No."

"We wouldn't be going that far out of the way –"

"I said no."

"Look, you aren't in charge –"

"Absolutely not. It's way too dangerous."

"No, the Mogs aren't going to expect us to go back there! It's the one place they probably won't be!"

"You're deluding yourself John." Six said firmly. "We're not going back to Paradise."

"It wouldn't even take that long." John argued, although the hope was gone from his voice.

"Going back would only put her in more danger, John." Six said, with almost a trace of sympathy in her voice. "You don't want that, do you?"

John just glared at her, and strode furiously away. Six shook her head, and returned to packing up her things.

Ella broke away from the small group surrounding Teresa – she could transform into an incredibly accurate Mogadorian – and wandered over to Six.

"So . . . what was that?" she inquired in a low voice, starting to help pack up the various articles lying around, carelessly scattered.

Six just shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing. John's just being stupid – a lovesick puppy."

Ella glanced over at John. He was sitting on the ground, staring moodily at a bit of paper he was twisting over and over again in his hands.

"That doesn't seem much like him." She commented.

Six sighed, rolling her eyes. "I guess normally not. But, apparently, there was this girl – back in Ohio, where he was living when I found him. And, he fell for her. The girl had him whipped. Naturally, he became convinced that she was the only one for him."

Ella nodded slowly, risking a quick glance over at John. "But he still left her."

Six nodded curtly. "Only smart thing he's done so far. He realized he was endangering her, realized that the best thing for him was to come with us, and that, obviously, she had to stay there. So he left her, and he's been miserable ever since."

Ella smiled grimly. "You don't think much of his romance, do you?"

"No." Six replied, without a thought. "But even if he is a deluded old fool, it doesn't change his feelings. It's killing him. Unfortunately. And now's a time when we need him at his best."

"Well, really, what could be the harm? If it would make him happy, we could probably afford a quick stop out of the way."

"No." Six said firmly, shaking her head. "Too much to risk. There were Mogs swarming over the place the last time we were there. And if they get back together again, either Sarah will have moved on, and then we'll have a heartbroken John on our hands which would actually be even worse, or they'll get twice as lovesick. And then, you can bet that they'll insist on staying together, which means we'll be dragging along another useless human."

"Sam's not useless." Ella said absently.

"Maybe not." Six said grudgingly. "If you call attracting freaks a talent. Anyway, we need to get to Nine in Mexico as soon as possible. I don't know how much longer we're going to be able to evade the Mogs, and we're not going to fail when we're only one away from reaching our full power."

"No, not quite." Tyler said, making a valiant effort to suppress a grin.

"What?" Teresa asked plaintively. "I did exactly what you did!"

"Not exactly." Tyler said. "Try again?"

"This sucks." Teresa grumbled, but she obliged, throwing another punch.

She had made herself bigger. She had made herself stronger. She'd gotten rid of gorgeous long hair that got in the way. She had fingernails that were long enough to practically be claws. Yet she still could not manage to even come close to this punk's skill.

Apparently, these cepans had done more than just provide them with all the answers. They'd also taught all of them to be freaking ninjas.

Teresa had never considered herself to be weak. She knew how to fend for herself. She was fast and strong, more so than the average person, at least. Until she had met them, and suddenly she was at the back of the pack. Way at the back. She was so far back, you wouldn't even realize she was really part of the pack.

Not that she wasn't trying to remedy the situation. She was trying, practicing. Only she had over ten years worth of training to catch up on. And frankly, she wasn't doing so hot.

"Is that right?" Teresa panted.

"Well," Tyler drew out. Teresa groaned.

"Maybe it's time we took a break." He suggested.

"Fine." Teresa said, flopping down on the ground, trying not to look too eager to take his suggestion. From his expression, she wasn't sure if she had managed it.

"Don't beat yourself up about it." Tyler said, sitting down next to her.

"No worries about that." Teresa said grimly. "I can hardly seem to beat anything up."

Tyler smiled. "You're doing really well." Teresa gave him a look. He didn't seem to have even broken a sweat.

"I thought we were all super-powered aliens." Teresa said, trying not to pout. "Then how come all of you guys are so much better than I am?"

"We aren't any better than you," Tyler said. "We've just trained our entire lives to fight like this."

Teresa glanced over at Patrick. She supposed there was some truth in that.

"What was it like?" she asked. "Growing up with Patrick?"

Tyler looked up at Teresa, his mouth slightly open. "Patrick?" He asked, his brow furrowed. "Well, it –" He broke off with a laugh. "It was intense." He said, smiling to himself.

"Yeah?" Teresa was smiling too now.

"Yeah. I mean, it must have been tough, not knowing that you were Lorien, but it was no picnic knowing about it either." Tyler said fondly. "With Patrick, you could never forget that you were one of The Nine, that you were the only hope for two whole planets, and, of course, that the Mogadorians were coming for you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but eventually, they would come for you. That was a given fact."

The light dimmed a bit in Tyler's eyes as his smile fell, seemingly staring directly into the past. "Every spare minute was spent training. We always had to concentrate on becoming better, first and foremost, becoming stronger, getting better control over my legacies. And we always had to keep moving, to throw suspicion off, from humans and Mogs."

"Not much of a childhood either, I see." Teresa said.

"It wasn't bad though." Tyler seemed to have pulled himself back to the present. "It wasn't bad at all. Patrick was the most stable thing I had in my life – the most stable thing I've ever had in my life. He always put me first and – and did everything for me. He's like a dad to me."

"A dad," Teresa repeated, and now it was her eyes that were thousands of miles away. "That's . . . that's really nice."

Tyler nodded solemnly. "I won't ever be able to thank him enough, for everything he's done for me."

"I know what you mean." Teresa said, smiling at him. Tyler smiled back.