Finn sat on one of the chairs in the living area and waited patiently for the girl whom Jack had introduced him to in her civilian guise to do the same.

As far as physical appearance went, he of course knew all about Damsel. The girl with the warrior-type body and her weakness-inducing power. It was a stark contrast, now that he was able to sense her emotional profile and had time to think about where her years-old scarring came from.

And the only conclusion he could draw considering their placement was that they could not possibly have come from a fight. Once he knew that, the backstory he was envisioning for her became all the more tragic. To have felt so powerless and fragile as to gain the power to eternally visit that fragility unto others. It spoke of a damaged person, armed with strength born from desecration. Taking those things into account, he had seen fit to keep his interactions neutral and allow her to take all the time she needed to feel comfortable enough to speak or do anything else with them.

That said, he was also one-hundred percent certain that she wouldn't want him to know any of this if she had a say in the matter.

In his defense, the same went for him. It wasn't as if he could suddenly not see these things in a person he was interacting with directly. He was far past the point of feeling guilty for discovering private aspects of people's lives by the thousands.

The real guilt came from all the people he'd had to let die because he couldn't be everywhere at once, the things he'd been forced to let slide with minimal effort extended to help because he had more pressing matters on his mind. Heart attacks three blocks away in the middle of something he couldn't break off from without compromising his cover. Violent crimes he could see but couldn't get to in time, ones he could do nothing but alert the authorities about in the hopes that they would deal with everything he ignored in favor of something else more individually relevant to him. His own responsibilities which he had always been too weak to deal with, just to realize that when he was strong enough, he was taking on far more weight than the goals he had imagined or promised he would fulfill. The normal populace that would never stop being in need of help. It demanded something he wasn't prepared to live up to.

Comparatively, a remnant of past trauma that had no impact on present safety didn't come close. Did that sound callous? Probably, but he didn't have much room to care beyond taking the best course of action with the information he possessed, regardless of how he got it.

Viewing another superhuman through that lens did make him wonder what could be said about his own power in relation to his mental layout and desires and weaknesses, though. He analyzed his own thought process and actions a lot, but it rarely felt like he was getting anywhere productive with it. It reminded him of the blind spot he had to his own aura—if it existed. Was that by design? He supposed there was a chance he had acquired that habit because of his power manifestation, because he didn't remember being this introspective as a normal human. Then again, it was possible he had picked it up due to the raised stakes. After all, it made sense to second guess yourself more often when the consequences of not doing so could involve death, as opposed to time where the riskiest thing you did the whole day was crossing the street.

Matilda finally sat down and drew him out of that thought spiral when she looked at him, hesitating for a moment.

She spoke when they locked gazes. "I didn't mean to snap at you earlier. You were only offering advice. It caught me by surprise because I…"

He shook his head. "There's no need to explain." Because I already know everything, he didn't say.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she settled on a simple "Okay" with her hands folded in her lap.

The silence drew out, and he was going over the latest updates with his mental assistant. The furry beast was overdue for a name, but he wasn't coming up with anything good right now.

"I neglected to mention, it is a relief to have you back with us," Matilda said.

He looked up at her. "Things haven't been too hectic while I was gone?" A rhetorical question, but it kept the conversation going.

"It has been manageable, in large part. Some minor hiccups such as Omega and… Homeland, but otherwise, yes, the situation hasn't been worse than usual," she finished carefully, gauging his reaction. He could practically see the words at the tip of her tongue that she didn't dare to say out loud.

"Nothing else?" he prodded.

"No, no, that was all, truly," she said, looking away.

She glanced at him again.

Finn sighed. "You want to ask about Calliope," he stated.

The girl held up her hands. "I don't have enough of an understanding of the situation to judge whether it's rude if—"

"Go ahead," he cut her off. "Ask."

"If you're sure," she tried. Then when he gave no reaction, she said, "Are you planning to do anything about her? My colleagues don't seem keen on it, but I considered her one of my comrades on the field. If she could be brought back at all and somehow helped, she could receive a fair trial."

Trial. He disliked that word, seeing as it implied other people determining the fate of Lyra's life instead of him. While he hadn't thought much about what he would do with her after he got his hands on her compared to how to actually do that in the first place, he was keenly aware of the disparity in other people's views of the correct way to handle this situation compared to his own.

"I'm working on it," he said noncommittally.

For a second it seemed as if she would say more. However, she just sat back instead.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Knowing he'd been slightly too curt, Finn added, "Your concern is noted though. I'll keep that in mind when I find her."

She looked taken aback. "Should I take that to mean you've had zero contact with her since the explosion?"

"Yes. I got back a few days ago."

"From where?"

He didn't answer this time.

"Right, idiotic question. Please forget I asked that. But if you could forgive me for prying, is there anything I could do to help?"

After giving it a moment's thought, he decided to say, "Grab your phone."

Confused, Matilda fished the rectangular device out of her pocket. Then her eyes widened when she saw a sequence of colored numbers appear on the black screen.

"Hold on, what is this?" she asked.

"My number," he said.

Matilda looked as if he'd just sentenced her to death.

"What I want you to do," he continued, "is call me if you ever see Calliope under any circumstance, no matter what. She's been avoiding me."

She let out a shaky breath. "Yes, of course. I will correspond with you if I ever encounter her. But I feel I should warn you that I don't have any idea what she looks like underneath her mask."

"Text me," he said. "I'll send something."

The young knightess in civilian garb turned her head left and right as if the walls were going to close in, but ultimately sent a message.

When he had her number, he scrolled through an old cloud storage space in a private server run by Jack that he hadn't ever thought he would need. His friend had suggested it one day and he had agreed without fanfare. They were just pictures and videos, after all. Jack had always been bigger on "making memories" and "capturing the moment." To him, it wasn't such a big deal.

Fortunately though, he still had access to it, since it granted him the ability to see pictures taken on his destroyed phone. Such as the one with Lyra grinning as she held up the phone with one arm and had the other over his shoulder as he stared intensely at the camera. He copied it over and pressed send.

Across from him, Matilda gasped, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "So you were a couple…"

"Now you know her face," he said, ignoring her comment. "If you see anything, don't delay."

"You two are so cute together!" she exclaimed.

"What was that?" Jack said, only now walking into the room. He looked over Matilda's shoulder and started laughing. "Oh holy shit! I've never seen that one before. Finn, you gotta send me those, dude."

"Have you ever…?" Matilda started, not finishing the question when she realized how inappropriate it was. "My apologies. It is simply difficult to reconcile my professional image of you with this more, well, intimate moment."

"Finn, you have to send me the rest," Jack managed between gasps. He wiped one eye and chuckled again. "This is gold."

"There's no 'rest' for me to send," he lied.

"Thank you for trusting me with this, Sha- Finn. I'll ensure that I remain vigilant for any surprise appearances of your partner," Matilda said.

"It's fine," were the words that fell from his mouth. But Internally?

He was definitely regretting this.

*******

A dark blur jumped on top of him, wrapping limbs around his torso while shaking back and forth.

"You made it back!" a feminine voice laughed.

"I did," he replied, muffled.

She pulled back, and he was face to face with a widely grinning Ines. He didn't comment on the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"I saw you in the pics, but it's not the same as having you here in the flesh, I guess. Plus you're changing your face when you have the Shade fit on now, aren't you?" Colette was saying from the side. Her lips curved upward. "Welcome back, lil bro."

"It's good to see you both again," Finn said. "It's been too long."

Ines gasped, unlocking her legs and hopping down. "Did you really just admit that? You missed us? Say that again!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Alright. It's good to see you both again. Satisfied?"

"Hell no I'm not satisfied, but it's a good start. What were you thinking we should do for tonight's mission?"

"Whatever you want." He honestly didn't care where they took him, at the moment. His search could continue later.

They were currently on a rooftop overlooking the skyline of Central, all in costume and ready to head out.

"That's accommodating of you," Colette remarked. "Aiden tells me you can fly now, by the by. That true?"

"Ooh! Dibs on the first ride." Ines hopped on his back this time, surprising him with her nimbleness. It occurred to him that, had she used this level of flexibility in that dodgeball match two years ago, he might have lost.

"I wasn't planning on flying," he protested, but they fell on deaf ears.

He could see the sympathetic look Colette was giving him under her helmet. "Joke's on you, that's your punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For growing like a weed."

In his own experience, the difference wasn't as big. It was partly because of the muscle gains that he looked way bigger than he used to.

Finn breathed in, tightening his grip under Ines's knees as she shifted her weight with the comfort of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

"I'm not a taxi," he muttered.

"Sure you are," Ines chirped. "A brooding, world-weary taxi who might toss me to the ground if I annoy him too much."

"Then why are you staying on?"

"'Cause she's trying to reach the stars," Colette spoke for her.

"We're not going that high," Finn said while scanning the megacity, already seeing some signs of action before he remembered he wasn't deciding where to go this time. A grounding realization, he found.

"Not literally," Ines whined. "I just want to snap a few good pictures."

He paused. "With your power? Doesn't the footage corrupt if you have it active?"

"I'm not activating it." She pumped her fists into the air. "Now, up up and away! Oh, and we're doing an extraction job. This team is so well-suited for it."

He just closed his eyes.

This was going to take a while.

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