By the time the Fox stops the bike, Jay's arms are numb from holding onto him so tightly. When he releases the older man he sucks in a long intake of breath.

"Sorry…" Jay says sheepishly, stumbling off the machine in relief, happy to be on solid ground. He looks around, seeing that they are in a dark alley, "Why did we stop here?"

"We walk from here, they can track the bike," He says, "It won't take long if we move quickly."

"Aren't there cops everywhere?"

"That's never been a problem for me. Jay, right?" He asks, looking around the corner.

Jay couldn't think to say anything else, he simply nods, asking, "You're Aiden, right…?"

Aiden turns back, "How did you know that?"

"Um…I saw a vision…flashback…thing…" Jay answers, making gestures with his hands, stopping them quickly, "Ah, that woman from before called you that."

"You can see the past?" Aiden's eyes flash, "So you're a Visionary then…"

"Yeah, that's what Wick called me."

"Who?"

"That purple-haired guy you pointed a sword at," Jay informs, "Thanks for petrifying him, by the way."

Aiden laughs quietly, "He wasn't afraid. Far from it."

"And how do you know that?"

Aiden pulls the scarf away from his mouth, raising an eyebrow. Instead of answering the question he asks, "What were you doing with that guy?"

"He was just showing me around, telling me about psychics."

"So…you willingly went with him?"

"Yeah…of course I did! I was trapped in my room and he put my parents to sleep-"

"He didn't—"Aiden begins to say, frowning at Jay's confusion. His expression changes, as if holding something back, he looks at the younger man and speaks quietly "You shouldn't trust him."

Jay raises an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Because you don't know anything about him."

"Well I don't know anything about you but you want me to trust you."

"I helped you-"

"He helped me too. He's actually given me more information than you have," Jay crosses his arms, challenging the older man to think of better reasoning.

Aiden looks as if he hasn't considered this, before sighing, "Jay, I'm sorry…but that isn't the case. You can't trust him."

Jay narrows his eyes, crossing his arms, "Well what do you know? I would probably know if he was some crazy psycho!"

"You probably wouldn't. He's a Will Bender, they specialize in acting. And keep your voice down."

"You're saying that he hypnotized me?" Jay asks, almost speaking louder than before, "I don't care who you are—"

"Keep your voice—"

"—But you can't think that he was actually controlling me—"

Aiden steps in front of him, covering his mouth before speaking again, leaning forward, "Keep. Your voice. Down."

Jay forces himself to relax, a long, shaky breath escaping him as he steps back from his frustration. He nods and Aiden slowly lets go, pulling a handle from his coat. He flicks his wrist, the baton retracting. He leaves him with a glare before turning the corner.

Jay frowns, limping after him. So the Fox didn't trust his friend. It didn't surprise him really, Aiden doesn't seem like the type of person to trust people readily. However, Wick hadn't shown him any reason not to trust him, it seems like the older man is working with a guess. Although, he remembers the change of expression, like he was holding something back, information Jay should know. Wherever they were going, Jay will make sure that when they get there he will ask about it.

He makes his way to stand beside Aiden again, feeling a tension between them. He clears his throat, "Ah...so, who is Damien?"

"He's…a person," Aiden answers, clearly finding it difficult to call whoever the man was anything.

"Well, I assumed that much," Jay jokes, but gently. Something told him that Aiden wasn't exactly the best with humor.

"…He was a friend," Aiden says, "But he got us involved in some shit he shouldn't have. It didn't turn out well."

"Then why is he back?"

Aiden moves behind one of the many large, coppery pipes in the alleys, pulling Jay with him. He peeks around, then back a bit too quickly, "Cops. They are going to start combing through the alleys. We need to move faster."

"We've been through this, I feel," Jay whispers.

Aiden looks over, scoffing, "Right…" He peeks back around the piping along with Jay, both seeing two officers moving down the alley.

Jay's eyes flash, an idea forming. He moves away from Aiden, beginning to step out. The Fox takes his arm, "What are you doing?" He whispers.

The younger psychic looks at him, not even caring about his smug expression, "Being useless." He moves out, this time Aiden not stopping him.

The officers are quick to point their guns at him as he takes effort to stumble out, keeping his eyes to the ground.

"Oh shit…it's that kid," One officer speaks.

"What do you mean?" The other asks

"The one the Fox carried off—"

"Shit…really?"

Jay holds up a hand to the two red lasers, the other wrapped around his stomach, "Please…don't shoot…" He speaks with weakness and vulnerability that surprised even himself, "I…I don't know where he is, but he's close, please help me."

One officer lowers his gun, looking at his partner, "Keep on alert." He steps forward, the other moving farther down the alley. Jay bites his lip, wishing they both would have taken the bait. He hears the partner move past the piping and Jay wonders distantly if Aiden had moved. He shuts his eyes as the officer takes his shoulder.

"I need you to tell me what happened, kid. How did you get away?"

"I don't even know…it happened so fast…" Jay speaks vaguely.

The cop makes a noise, sounding like impatience but being polite about it, "Try and remember, look at me." Jay opens his eyes, looking over at his other hand still holding the gun.

"It's you!" A voice shouts from down the alley before being harshly cut off.

The officer's head snaps up, calling down the alley, "Jameson!"

Jay takes the chance as he could, snatching the gun right out of the officer's hand, backing away. He points it at the man, shutting off his gasping. The officer's hands fly up, staring back at Jay, "Your eyes…you are one of them."

"Honestly, I can't believe you fell for that," Jay says, easily mimicking confidence. It isn't hard for him, despite having no idea how to work the weapon currently in his hand, "I thought you guys were supposed to be smart."

The officer takes offence to this, glaring at him, "Are you going to shoot me or what?"

Jay didn't exactly want to. The red laser shines right at the cop's chest. He hesitates, ignoring the man's curse. He suddenly feels the weapon plucked from his hand, and then a quick zip. When he refocuses, the cop in front of him it collapsed on the pavement, a dart sticking out from his neck. He turns, Aiden standing beside him.

"You were doing well up until this point," He says bluntly, "Have you ever shot a gun?"

"No…I've never needed to," He watches the man turn something on the weapon before placing it in his coat. Jay notices now that the baton he was holding before is splattered with red.

Aiden looks back at Jay, surprisingly, he smiles. It is a small smile, but it is there, "Come on, stay close."

Jay does as he's told, keeping near the Fox as he moves between hiding spots. He felt as if hours went by as they hop over a fence into what looked like an abandoned parking lot. Rare weeds poke from the cracked asphalt, old piles of shrapnel sit around like they've been rusting for a hundred years. Jay looks out at the river, smelling the layers of chemicals that are probably emanating from the water.

There is an island across it, a bridge turned horizontal to break off the connection from the rest of the city.

"That's where we are going," Aiden says, pointing to the island, "Because you were going to ask that."

"I wasn't going to ask that!" Jay says. He was going to though.

"Whatever you'd like to believe," He says, stepping toward the edge of the lot.

Jay watches the waves slosh up onto the concreate, "So…is there a remote to move that thing?"

Aiden doesn't answer, but he chuckles. It is a natural laugh, Jay couldn't help but smile at it, even if he was laughing at him. He likes the sound of it.

He lifts a hand, moving it slowly. Jay jumps as the sound of grinding gears punctures the quiet air. He watches the bridge nudge, as if being set free from chains, before slowly beginning to rotate.

Jay begins to speak, but Aiden answers, "Yes. I am moving it."

The younger man pouts, crossing his arms, "Stop that…"

"Stop what?"

"Answering my questions."

"You claim I don't give you enough information," He says simply, turning back to the bridge as it locks into place. They make their way across, the bridge clanking at their footsteps. Jay listens, closing his eyes, it is a good beat, good enough for a song.

A sudden shriek of metal stops him. He opens his eyes, one of Aiden's swords points right at him. He looks at him, eyes wide "W—what are you doing?"

"I didn't do that," He says, taking the weapon, "You don't have control over your powers."

Jay gulps, "I know…I didn't exactly have any chance to practice."

"Well, you'll have time now," Aiden says, looking at him, "You have a powerful Aura, I brought you here because you are in danger."

"I am?" Jay frowns, "Because I'm powerful?"

"And you have no idea how to use it. You'd be a good weapon for anyone to recruit. I just got to you first."

Jay feels like he should be thanking the man, however, he wasn't quite ready for it. He doesn't know what's in store for him here, and it made his nerve spark up like firecrackers.

"Wick talked about Auras too…but I don't know what he's talking about. What am I supposed to feel?"

The two stop at the end of the bridge. Jay listens to the bridge begin to turn back as Aiden looks at him, "That's not going to work out. You need to know how to sense other psychics," He turns to him, "It's almost like a human pulse, it is always there given the person is alive. You can feel it if you concentrate."

"What does it feel like?" Jay asks, already trying to gain focus.

"It's…" He trails off, thinking, "A vibration."

"Oh! Like a beat?"

"…Yes. Like a chord of music. You usually learn by taking the hand of another and trying to sense the pulse."

"Oh…" Jay grins, "Give me your hand then!"

"No." Aiden says bluntly, turning on his heel and heading toward the large building in the distance.

Jay drops his arm, "Why not?" He whines, following after him as quickly as possible.

"Because. If you haven't felt an Aura before, mine isn't the one to start with," He anticipates Jay's next question again, glancing back at him, "A powerful Aura can have negative effects if you aren't used to the feeling of one."

"How do you know that's what happens?" Jay asks, "Is it from experience or something?"

Aiden watches him, his eyes emerald in the light of the sun, "Yes."

He disappears behind a boxcar. Jay sighs, somehow even more confused than before. He follows, seeing him step inside the metal box.

Jay observes the moldy looking mattress and trash, "I'm guessing this isn't what it seems either." He says as the boxcar rattles upward, "Of course."

They wait in silence, Jay remembers in the moment about his question, he asks gently, "Why don't you trust Wick?"

Aiden opens his mouth, but closes it, deciding against something.

"Listen, whatever you are hiding from me I think I can take it…" Jay says, tapping his shoulder when he is silent again, "Please, just tell me."

Aiden shoves open the boxcar door, "Jay…"

"Fuck!"

This makes both men turn toward the nearby railing. Jay limps past the older man, the small, dark hallway opening up into an enormous warehouse. Sunlight barely shines through the tinted windows. He looks down at the sound of another curse, seeing the two strangers from before.

The man he remembers is named Damien. He sits at the edge of a table, half his shirt peeled back. He grips a rag to his shoulder, the cloth dyed scarlet.

"Calm down, I'm almost done," The woman says, smiling almost too kindly. She is sitting behind him on the table.

"You said that seven pieces ago, sweetheart," Damien growls through his teeth.

"Did I? Well now I'm sure," She lifts her hand. Jay can just barely see a piece of shiny, bloody metal appear from the back of his shoulder.

"God…dammit," Damien scoffs, gripping the edge of the table.

"What happened?" Aiden says from behind, stepping past Jay and down a set of metal stairs. Jay stays where he is, his eyes not leaving the rather ghastly wound.

"Well, what do you think happened, Pearce?" Damien asks viciously.

The woman looks up, "Our friend here got shot after engaging a few more cops then he could handle." She smirks at Damien, who rolls his eyes.

"Well, when you claim oh so modestly that you will take the fifty cops on one side of the street, I decided to be the gentleman and take fifty-one, lest the lady got exhausted."

"I was joking, you were over your head."

"I wouldn't be 'over my head' if I wasn't under the strict rule of the Fox," He glares at Aiden, "Tell me again how violence doesn't match with violence?"

Aiden raises an eyebrow, "So, you got shot…actually listening to me?"

"Yeah, and it was a scatter bullet to—fuck!" He curses, his eyes shutting. Jay squeaks, ducking as bits of metal fly off a nearby table, zipping past his head.

When he stands back up, all three psychics are staring up at him. He shifts uncomfortably, "Ah, hey…"

"Oh, so you finally got your kidnapping done, took you long enough," Damien says toward Aiden, "I hope he was worth it."

"Well, sadly the bullet missed your heart. So no, he wasn't worth it," The woman says curtly, sliding a first aid kit closer to her.

"You know, you can just tell me you love me any time."

"You're adorable, really."

Aiden moves to the table, taking the kit from her. He whispers to her. When the woman nods, she looks over at Jay, slipping off the table, "Follow me, Jay."

Jay nods, going down the stairs and starts to follow her. He hears Damien speak in a grumble, "Sure, give Pearce the job of fixing this."

"Oh, you'll probably survive. Probably," Aiden speaks back with little sympathy.

"My name is Clara, just to let you know," The woman says in front of him. She smiles pleasantly, "I hope Aiden didn't scare you. He tends to do that."

"No…he didn't scare me at all," Jay lies, returning her smile.

"That's good, He is honestly not that terrifying," She says before leading him into a separate room, "I'm sorry but this is all we have. I didn't exactly plan for this.

Jay looks around the small room, "It's fine, really. At least this room has a window." He looks at the dusty shelves and mismatched items with a sigh, "Just needs to be cleaned."

"I'm sorry, again. This is probably a bit strange for you."

Jay laughs, "More like amazing. This is the most excitement I've had in…well, in my whole life…" He trails off, looking at Clara, "I'll get used to it."

He looks to his stomach as it suddenly whines loudly. He never realized how hungry he was. He looks back at the woman sheepishly.

She smirks, joking, "Hold on, I'll see if I'm allowed to feed you."

~WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW~

Wick walks through the territory of the Brandon air docks, contemplating his death to the most excruciating possible to the most merciful.

He is never one to cower in a corner, even when it is facing death. He's seen far too much to be afraid. Then again, having his bones crushed into dust isn't pleasant to think about in the slightest. Neither is getting shot in the head or his neck snapped.

No matter how creative, he isn't going to survive the next hour.

As he crosses through a guarded gate, he sees a familiar figure. With a barely hidden scowl he steps to Iraq, "Out of all the people I was really hoping it wasn't you," He says with obvious malice, "So is this going to be a formal affair, or are you just going to pop me in the head right now?"

Iraq narrows his eyes, scoffing, "Oh, I wish."

"You shouldn't wish for people to die, that's unhealthy," Wick says blankly, barely caring at this point.

"Quinn is here."

Wick stares, the smallest bit of anxiousness skipping past his heart, "So it is a formal affair. Fine. Lead the way."

Iraq makes sure to keep a steady glare as he turns and heads toward one of the hangers. Wick follows, knowing his clock was ticking. If Quinn was here, there must be some type of information he is interested to know before he kills him. It is only what happens to every failure that dares walk back. He supposed he should feel shameful, but he only feels a hallow sense of bitterness.

This failure he had is a minor one, at least in his mind. His only mission was to find out about the Fox, which is a task all in itself. It was like asking atheist to find God and expect to be enlightened. Finding the Fox was separate from learning about him. He knew from the get go that it wasn't going to go well, but it wasn't like he could have refused.

Then, he learned about Jay.

Jay, just a normal, everyday powerhouse stored in a little, mousy body of ignorance. It could almost bring the right people to tears it was so beautiful. What made it almost heavenly? The Fox was after him.

Within the hanger, guards are everywhere. Most paid no attention to the two of them, but some decide to stare, specifically at Wick. He ignores the pairs of eyes, focusing on the group beyond.

Lucky Quinn stands among them, Wick could sense the Aura immediately. It is far, far different than the Fox's. The Fox's was like getting caught in a hurricane. A raging, brilliant thing that is almost completely overwhelming to the thoughts. Quinn's could only be described like the eye of the storm, so eerily peaceful, the pulse calm and slow. It is deceiving, Wick knows from experience.

He catches Wick's gaze with a smile, but says nothing. At this point, the end of the Fox's many swords felt more and more appealing by the second.

Wick doesn't speak, waiting to be told to. He remembers watching other victims babble and whine for mercy after crippling failures, Wick isn't going to be that kind of corpse. He'd rather die with his pride, it is all he had nowadays.

"You're so calm, I'm not surprised," Quinn speaks, leaning against his cane. Iraq steps away, but watches Wick suspiciously.

"I've already accepted my end, sir. I didn't complete my task," Wick says carefully.

Quinn does not acknowledge the comment, looking at him. His eyes are mismatched, faded from old age, "Tell me what you know."

Wick sucks in a breath, speaking his experiences with efficiency, trying to get it over with. The more he stood idly, the more he anticipated, and he didn't want to anticipate. He wanted it to come quick and without hesitation.

"Jay B. Marcowicz," Quinn chuckles quietly, "I know his father…so you believed our Fox was tracking him?"

"He was following us. My plan was to lead Jay here but I couldn't with him possibly so close. I brought him to a protest instead. I made him start a fight and that brought the Fox right out," Wick explains, "Just…in the middle of everything. He picked up the kid and ran off."

Quinn is quiet for a moment, before asking, "Why do you think that is?"

Wick takes a second to answer, not exactly anticipating the question, "The kid had a powerful aura. I assume he was getting his hands on him before anyone else could. Jay is ignorant about psychics and really the world in general so that I can assume…" He trails off, he didn't want to, but he did.

"Is there something else?" He asks it politely, but Wick knew he demanded everything.

Wick sighs, "I kept track of Jay's emotions when I was with him. Most of it was confusion, some frustration, a bit of anger. When I mentioned the Fox at any point there was a point of…" he tries to grasp the right word, "affection."

Iraq catches on quickly, sneering, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Wick looks over at him, "I'm not. I'm being serious. You think I'm lying?"

"Wick, does the boy still trust you?"

The purple-haired psychic looks back at Quinn, mentally scolding himself for getting distracted by Iraq, "Yeah, he does. Not for long though. The Fox wasn't tricked for a second. And I think he knows I killed the mother…"

"You killed Jay's mother then…now why would you do that?"

Wick clears his throat quietly, forcing himself not to look away from the old man, "I wasn't going to, but she panicked when I tried to put her to sleep. It is my fault, I lost control."

"It was an accident then." Quinn says.

Wick frowns, "Ah, yes…it was."

"Then you have an excuse the next time you speak with him."

The young psychic stares, trying to process this, "The next time…?"

He almost completely ignores the comment, "Who is working with the Fox? Anyone?"

Wick quickly remembers the two he met at the protest, "Damien Brenks…he's definitely working with him. There was a woman as well, I don't know her name."

Quinn hobbles forward, his cane echoing on the floor. He places a hand on Wick's shoulder. It takes all of his will power to keep his muscles relaxed at the gentle touch. Quinn speaks quietly, "Then find out."

He lets go, turning back to his entourage. Wick steps back, registering what just happened. He is alive, he was just given another chance.

He moves his way back toward the gate, stopping halfway, remember a final detail. He speaks quickly, "Aiden…"

There is a pause, Quinn speaking behind him, "What was that?"

Wick puts his hands in his pockets, looking back over, "The Fox. His name is Aiden."

He walks out into the dying sunlight. He feels like he just walked across a mine field and was just barely spared an explosion. He knew there were no chances after this, he got lucky. Ridiculously lucky.

He isn't going to mess this up. Not this time.