Three shots into one target, move to the next. That one down, move to the next. Methodical. Two to the chest, one to the head. Each one. With a harsh click, the gun announced it was empty. The smell of gunpowder was almost overpowering.

"Wow," Jason said. "I guess I'm cooking, then?"

"It was a sucker's bet," Kara responded. "You forgot who you're talking to. You, on the other hand, could use some more time on the range. What kind of cockamamie outfit are the PRT running?"

"Hey, I'm really accurate with my own weapon!" Jason said, laughing. Kara couldn't help but appreciate how he seemed to laugh unreservedly, not holding anything back. They started walking together to the next room, which had a sign stating CLEANING ROOM.

He'd suggested this. The rain had pushed most people indoors, or at least had them huddling under their umbrellas.

"What, a shotgun?" She asked. His laughter doubled. "I'm not kidding. What do you shoot supervillains with? Because I really hope it's not this pistol."

"I'll have you know that the PRT are experts at nonlethally engaging felonious supervillains. We are fully equipped with a wide range of measures that allow us to disable parahuman criminals without causing unnecessary harm to our environment, thus ensuring a safer city for us all."

Kara looked him in the eyes. "Do you at least have someone to do the aiming for you?"

"I swear, I'm normally–" he stopped, looking behind her. She turned to look. The subject of his attention was a massive Samoan man in a black sleeveless shirt and black pants cleaning a pistol on the designated area.

"Is that your other date?" Kara asked. "He's cute."

"No, just... an old work friend. I was convinced he'd moved away," Jason said. "Weird to see him, you know? He was the last person I'd expect to see here."

"Huh. What's his name?" she asked.

"Roy."

"Cool," she said. She turned towards the man. "Roy! Hey!"

The man turned in her direction. His face went through confusion, surprise, and fear before settling on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Jason?"

Jason gave Kara an inscrutable look before answering. His voice cracked a little. "Hey, Roy."

Roy turned to the man next to him, asking, "Can you watch over my gun for a sec?" before walking towards them. From up close he was even taller. Easily seven feet tall, he had a broad face and broad shoulders. Braided black hair passed his shoulders. He reached them and clapped Jason on the shoulder. "Robin! Wow! How long has it been?"

"A year and a half, I think. How are you doing?" Jason asked. He'd almost transformed in front of her eyes. The confident, assertive man from five minutes ago was gone, replaced by someone small.

"I'm good, you know? Keeping in shape. You?" Roy said. Kara couldn't be sure, meeting someone new, but he also seemed tense. Something reminded her of Evan, the way he pushed his own self down, burying it under superficial interests.

"Great. Still at the PRT. The guys all miss you," Jason said.

"Really?" Roy asked. He chuckled. "Colin too?"

"Colin's an ass. That's an unfair question."

"Yeah," Roy said. The silence between them was punctuated by gunshots. "So who is this?"

"I'm Kara," she said. "I'm schooling him on how to shoot."

"Hey, I hit the target," Jason said. He'd straightened a little at her words.

"Look, it's not your fault," Roy said. He looked at Kara. "Robin never did know how to shoot."

"Robin?" She asked.

"They don't call me that any more," Jason said. "Other Robin had a bit of a shit fit at a certain point."

"Other Robin? Angry?" Roy's smile broadened as he spoke. "How was that?"

"Surprisingly funny," Jason said.

"Wait, you didn't answer. Why Robin?" Kara demanded.

"My parents named me after a comic character they loved. You know how older comics used to be about superheroes?" Jason asked.

"Oh, that Robin! Oh, god," Kara laughed. It would be obvious. "You know, my birth name was similar. My parents also named me after a superhero from a comic."

"Who?" Roy asked.

"Bruce Wayne," she said. They both stared at her for a second before laughing.

When the laughter ended, the tension between them seemed to have disappeared. Jason was the first to speak up. "Oh, man, where have you been?"

"I needed a break, you know? I did like six months just bopping around India, Nepal, Bangladesh... I tried to get into China but you know that mess. Did some bodyguard work for a rich Indian guy, but after a while you just miss toilets. So I figured I'd head back here. I kept telling myself I'd visit you guys, but that never quite happened."

"I never got a chance to say it, but... I'm sorry. I really didn't want things to get to where they got, with you and Colin." Jason said. He opened his mouth, as if to say another thing, closed it, then said, "Ethan was pissed about it for a while."

"Yeah, I can see that. How is he, now?" Roy asked. Jason had shrunk down again.

"He's fine. He's started to get along with the higher ups, if you can believe it."

"I actually can. I knew some guys like him, back in the military. They would either become the higher ups' worst nightmare or their best friends."

The silence stretched on, until Jason said, "I'm being rude. I'm on a date and I'm talking to you about people Kara doesn't know. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," Kara said. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Roy."

She shook Roy's hand. For such a large man, he had a gentle grip.

"Likewise," Roy said. "I'll drop by HQ some time soon, Jason. Thanks for reminding me. See you two soon."

Roy walked back to his gun and started wiping it down with a rag.

"I can clean mine at home," Jason said. They walked towards the exit.

As they were putting on their coats, Kara said, "It's odd meeting people from an earlier time in life, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Jason said. "Let's stop by a supermarket on the way. I'm going to make my magic pesto."


His snoring was soft, almost inaudible. There was something cute about it, this vague innocence to his sleeping form. He lay in a fetal position towards the edge of the bed, leaving the lion's share of it to her.

She'd never slept well in beds. They were comfortable. Warm. And yet... she always woke up feeling wrong. The ground was cold, and hard, and usually dangerous, but she never felt quite right on a bed. It was a reflection of her damage, maybe. You never do outgrow your child self. She sat at the edge of the bed, then stood up and walked to the bathroom. She felt goosebumps on her bare skin prickle as she got up.

In the mirror, she could still see the child she used to be. Under the scars, the dreadlocks, the mature body, the... was that pesto in her teeth? Had she had that there all night? Did Jason taste the pesto? Was it pesto? Oh god, what else could it be?

She mentally retraced her actions after dinner. Could it be... no, Jason had better hygiene than that. It was probably pesto. She scraped it off with a fingernail. She washed her hands and walked back to the bedroom. Jason's head rose at her entrance.

"I thought you disappeared again," he said, the words soft.

"I'm staying tonight," she said. She would stay.

"Good," he mumbled, his head dropping again. She lay down in bed and covered herself with the blanket. She felt a tug on her arm. Jason pulled her arm to rest on him. She pressed herself against him. He was warm. It was nice.


She woke up to Jason's alarm clock. Some pop song, blaring out of his phone. He reached out with his hand and shut it.

"Good morning," she said.

He turned to her. His kiss had his morning breath on it. "Good morning."

She looked into his eyes for a few seconds. "Eggs?"

"Definitely."

She started pulling her clothes on. He looked at his phone and groaned. "I need to leave in fifteen minutes. I forgot to set my alarm to include time for breakfast. I normally just grab something on the way. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," she said. "Next time. Can I call myself on your phone?"

"Sure," he said, and tossed it over. She dropped her shirt to catch it. She dialed in her number, and called. Sure enough, her pocket started buzzing. Good. She wasn't quite sure where her jeans had ended up. She hung up, put the phone where it had been, then put her pants on. She heard the shower go on.

When she was fully dressed, she checked her pockets. Her wallet was there, her phone was there, her spare grenade was there. Good, nothing was dropped. She checked her phone. Missed call from a new number four minutes ago, and a message. The number was unfamiliar. She opened it.

There have been developments. Come to docks ASAP. Next time leave your number, hacking the phone database took too long.

"Wow, you're fast," Jason said. He was standing in the door to the room, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Can't say the same about you," she said. "Seven minutes to get dressed and out the door."

"Challenge accepted," he said.

"I, however, need to go now. So, call me? If you don't, I'll call you."

"See you later."


She'd walked a block until she found an unlocked car. At this hour of the morning, no one was around. Stealing it was a piece of cake.

Driving it was less easy. The streets were almost empty, letting her enjoy the ride until some asshole shouted at her. For his information, no one taught her to drive, she was a natural talent.

She made it in twenty minutes. Her phone had told her it would take thirty five. There was a part of her that thrilled in proving computers wrong, and it was rejoicing.

She parked the car a short distance away from the storage units, and walked towards them. She went to the right row, and started walking. There was a large hole between 5119 and 5124.

Problematic.

Geth said they'd be on the docks, did that mean the actual pier? She walked to the rusted crane she'd hidden her armor and weapons under. She pushed the steel sheet away. They were still there, the black and red gleaming in the morning light. The pier was visible from where she stood. Geth was picking something up – from the distance she couldn't identify it. Mar was sitting at the edge of the pier, looking like he was thinking of throwing himself in. She walked towards them.

"What's up?" she asked, as she approached. Mar didn't look at her. She looked towards Geth, instead. It had lost its left hand. It was picking up pieces of some sort of metal.

"We were attacked. There appears to be a gang war in the city started by an underling of Lung's. Our storage unit was the first fatality. There have been other small bombings in the city, apparently directed at other parahumans and parahuman organizations." Geth said. "There is going to be a summit of criminal organizations in a pub called Somer's Rock tonight. We have been invited as well."

"And your hand?"

"A technical malfunction."

"Does Evan know?"

"Fuck him." Mar offered.

"No. He has not been sighted. I have also been unable to track him – if he has a mobile phone, it is not under his name. The last camera sighting of him was in an apartment building downtown, but neither myself nor Mar can be seen there."

"I'll go," Kara said. "Send me the address?"

"Very well. Be careful."

"I will be."

She left the two of them to continue doing nothing. She went back to the crane, moving the steel sheet.

Her armor stared back at her again. Inviting her to be enveloped in it again.

She picked it up. She hated lifting it like this. It was heavy and unwieldy and a pain. She carried it to the car, and shoved it into the trunk. The Harrier sat on the passenger's seat. She briefly debated putting a seat belt on it before starting the car again. She input the address Geth gave her into her phone, and drove.


The apartment might have been easier on the eyes in the past. Right now, it was smashed up. The kitchen had a bloody dent in the counter. The table was in pieces. A solitary chair stood broken, the wall near it giving a new definition to "open air design".

So Evan either threw wilder parties than she'd thought, or he was attacked. She wondered for a brief moment if she had attacked him and forgotten about it, before scratching that notion. She'd remember doing this much damage.

Besides, there were no scorch marks. She never left a place after using only kinetic force.

"Okay, so I'm an asshole who's been attacked in my apartment by people unknown. I had to make an escape, and I couldn't use the door so the wall was a better idea. Where would I leave contact information?" She said out loud. It was flimsy, she had to admit. She looked over his apartment. He'd only lived there for a few days, so it was sparse. She looked over what he did have. The kitchen had... not much, in the drawers. The fridge had a pot with some form of something in it. It looked like brown sludge and didn't really smell like anything.

The cabinets had a pan, a few plates, a few bowls, and a few spoons. New thing she learned about Evan: Not a fork and knife person.

That didn't tell her anything about where he was.

His bookshelf had an Acolyte hidden in it. She didn't expect him to have an Asari pistol. She was impressed, though. Whoever destroyed his apartment had left the books untouched. The violent home invaders weren't well read, apparently.

His closet had some clothes, most of them still with their tags.

She didn't like Evan, to say the least. But this look at how he'd tried to fit into this world... there was something touching about it. And futile, too. Her thoughts strayed to Jason. It wasn't sad that she'd have to keep him at a distance, at a certain point. She'd gotten used to it. But looking at Evan's attempt at carving out a place where he would fit in a world that wasn't his, she felt a brief pang of regret.

His belongings were meager enough not to have to go through a lot of things. She'd found nothing that could tell her where he was. Unless...

There was a garbage can in the kitchen. She emptied it onto the floor. Some vegetable remnants, an empty barley bag, and papers with ANTHEM COMMUNICATIONS written on the top. Bingo. It was an explanation of the legal penalties he'd face if he microwaved his cellphone, and... a number. Perfect.

She dialed it.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar male voice answered.

"Hi, whoever this is, could you give the phone to its owner?" she asked. Could his escape have failed? The person on the other side said something, and she heard Evan's voice respond. Good.

"Who is this?" the voice asked.

"It's Kara." She heard the voice echo her in the background.

"What is it?" Evan asked.

"The storage unit's been attacked, huge criminal uprising, big meeting tonight, we should all be there, your apartment's a mess and someone spilled your garbage on the floor." She said in one breath. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up. I've got a car."

"No," Evan said. The line went dead.

She dialed the number Geth sent her a message from. It answered a moment after she pressed the call button. "I've got Evan's number, but he's refusing to come. Can you track him for me?"

"That phone is in 28 Monarch street," Geth responded.

"Great, I'll go pick him up."


There were two policemen at her car when she came back. One of them was writing something on a pad, the other was opening the door.

"Does there appear to be a problem, officers?" she asked them.

"Is this your car?" the one writing asked her.

"Yep," she said.

"It's been reported as stolen, ma'am. Could I see some ID?"

"Sure, let me just get it out of my pocket," she said. She pulled out the arc grenade, a small innocuous cylinder, pushed the button on top, then handed it to the officer. "Could you hold this for a second?"

He took it without thinking, and she leaped behind the police car. Even behind an obstacle, she found herself convulsing for a few seconds. The two policemen were hit worse. She thought she saw one of them throwing up as she drove off. Oh well. She'd have to dump this car.


The house had seen better days. The paint was starting to chip off and one of the steps at the entrance was rotted through.

She jumped up the stairs in one leap and pushed the door bell. A few seconds later, it opened a crack, stopped by a small chain. The bespectacled girl who answered it was Kara's height, with long black hair.

"Hello?" she said, looking at Kara.

"May I speak to you about our lord and savior Space Jesus?" At the girl's blank stare, Kara said, "Bad joke, sorry. I'm looking for Evan? He's kinda short, probably bruised?"

"I'll check," the girl said, and closed the door.

A minute later, the door was opened by Evan.

"Hey," Kara said. "There's some serious stuff going on, and the four of us need to stick together for it. Being alone is-"

"Okay," Evan interrupted. "I'll come with you. Give me a minute?"

"Sure!" Kara said.

"Just a minute," he said and closed the door. Kara sat on the top step. The door opened behind her. The girl from before walked next to Kara.

"Is he your boyfriend?" The girl asked her.

"Evan?" Kara laughed. "No. He's definitely not. We're coworkers."

"And you picked him up from here?" The girl's glasses made her eyes look huge, like a giant bug questioning everything.

"He wasn't home, and we carpool. Gotta protect the environment, you know?"

"Of course. On a Friday?"

"Crime never sleeps," Kara said.

"You're police?" she asked.

"Criminals."

"Right."

The door opened. Evan stepped out. "Let's go."

"Okay," Kara said. She turned to the girl. "Bye. Nice to meet you. I'm Kara."

"Taylor," she said. She went back inside.

Evan was quiet as they got into the car.

"Can you tell me what happened? The full version?" He asked.

"Last night, Geth was attacked," she began.