A/N: So these are the partially done chapters I that I just can't seem to get up the oomph to finish (for now). Chapter XI has the most, that chapter is very close to being finished. The rest is mainly bits and pieces, snatches of dialogue and such, because that's pretty much how I write. It's never from beginning to end, I generally jot down whatever idea is freshest in my mind and then try to connect them later. 

I'm just gonna post all these drafts as-is, with a few notes here and there filling in what I had planned to put in the unfinished parts in-between them. All author's notes after this one will be in underlined bold italics to help visually distinguish them from the actual chapters.

X

Location: Outside the barrier

Time: 35 years previous, summer turning into autumn

Weather: Sunny and dry

"Koura!"

A pair of strong hands encircled the young girl's waist, hoisting her, shrieking and cackling, into the air.

"Tomus, put me down!" she cried.

Dust from the fields clung to her dress. The air was starting to get chilly.

"I'm back! Didja miss me?"

A/N: I didn't get very far into this chapter at all, did I? 😅 This was meant to be a whole-chapter flashback. It would have introduced another sub-plotline about a young girl named Koura who lived a basically normal life with her family outside the walled territory of Evadam. Tomus is Koura's older brother, and a much younger Juno is Tomus' best friend.

XI

Location: Anderssen residence

Time: Sunday, October 13, close to midnight

Weather: Rainy

Recap:

By the time [Thomas] lay down to sleep, he was so tired he didn't hear the window click open.

Blaise edged the sill upward carefully, ever so carefully. Rain pelted down on him like bullets, but that didn't do much in the way of distracting him from his purpose. No, what was distracting him was the whanging headache beating it's way through his skull. It felt like something alive was trapped inside his head and it was trying to claw its way out right between his eyes. He'd had one too many at that stillhouse. He wasn't nearly as smashed as he'd been pretending, but it was still pretty bad.

He snickered, replaying in his head the look on Thomas's high-brow buddies' faces when he'd bumped into them that afternoon. It had been a complete coincidence. Blaise had popped over to see a friend of his who worked at a grocery store in Green Ridge— which just happened to be wedged between two stillhouses. And of course afterwards Blaise had to stop in for a couple pints next door because he was all for supporting small businesses. But all good times must come to a screeching halt at some time or the other, and for Blaise that came in the way of a class full of— he struggled through his hangover to remember what those pompous fools called themselves—

Ah, I've got it. It's ASOCs. A class full of ASOCs. A class full of a socks. Y U no grammar? 

It sucked, it really did. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the stupid Quicksilver hierarchy right then. And Thomas, he seemed to have an internal beeper that told him just when Blaise had plans so that he could make an appearance. Well Blaise was getting sick of it. So he faked drunk.

Truth be told, at the time he had been more annoyed than Thomas was. But by nightfall he'd put enough distance between the chance encounter and himself to be able to look back on it and laugh. As furious as Thomas had been, his brother dearest would absolutely kill him if he knew that Blaise spitting at him had been a conscious decision.

Well, he was getting even with Blaise even if he didn't know it. The only reason why Blaise had to get soaked to the bone was because Thomas locked the door to his room religiously before he went to bed every night. Though that was probably mostly Blaise's fault. He thought back over the long list of pranks he'd pulled on his little brother. Yeah, that probably had something to do with it.

He was getting drenched standing up there on the roof between their windows, but he couldn't risk Thomas hearing the sill open and waking up. It was just a good thing magnium didn't react to water. He cracked it open another inch, shielding the open area with his body so there wouldn't be a big wet spot on the carpet when morning came. Easy... easy... Blaise could be patient when he wanted to be. Inch by inch he hoisted the sill until it was opened wide enough for him to slip in and shut behind him.

Turns out, he'd had nothing to worry about. Thomas was on the bed, sleeping like a sack of lead ingots. Still, Blaise kept his footfalls soft as he crept to the other end of the room, where his brother hung his uniform. The shirt and tie were downstairs in the mud room, but the silver blazer remained. He took it, hanger and all, out into the hallway with him. Thomas was so soundly asleep he didn't even rouse when Blaise unclicked the lock on his door.

What Blaise needed was waiting for him in his own room: a needle and thread he'd slipped from Meg's craft junk. He pulled the blazer up onto his lap and set to work. Carefully, he picked the seam out of the bottom of the inner lining, somewhere small where Thomas wouldn't notice. From between his mattress and his box spring he drew out an envelope made of thin but rigid felt. Plastic baggies wouldn't do in this instance. People would be able to tell if Thomas starting crinkling every time he moved. I mean, he is stiff, but... He smoothed the envelope as flat as he could before stuffing it into the hole he'd created.

Hiding his wares on Thomas was just a precaution on Blaise's part. This was only one of a few places where he'd hid the stuff. It wasn't easy thinking of hiding places, either. It wasn't like thumb drives that you could slip pretty much anywhere, this stuff was bulky. Not to mention volatile. But hey, Thomas should be fine as long as he didn't suddenly take up fire walking as a hobby. Or go to a bonfire. Blaise wasn't too worried about that though. Thomas's friends weren't the bonfire type. He could just about hear his brother's eyeroll at the suggestion.

"Why bother standing around a fire with smoke blowing in your face, getting devoured by bugs, all for some hot dog or marshmallow that won't even be cooked all the way through?"

Because it's fun, that's why.

Eh. Blaise waved away the thought. He had better things to do than argue with an imaginary version of his brother.

Really, what he needed was just a place where the magnium would be safe for a few days. He figured a moving target would be harder to pin down. And Thomas steered clear of dangerous things, mostly. It was less likely to be found on him than on Blaise. Or at least, that's what he was gambling.

Satisfied with his work, he stitched the tear he'd made shut. Learning to hand-sew had been a pain in his you-know-what, but it was a skill that had served him well. When he was finished, nobody would be able to notice the difference unless they were actually looking for it. Not even an A-sock.

Swiftly he returned the blazer to its place, relocked the door, and vanished out the window.

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A/N: I was planning on having a Fin POV here. Fin was in school when the territory-wide lockdown was put into effect. He and everyone in Quicksilver Middle was stuck inside whichever class they were in at the time. Nobody was allowed to leave their classrooms, and the doors were forced to be locked. Government officials walked in the hallways outside. The lockdown lasted an uncomfortably long time. When they finally were allowed to go to their next class, Fin has the feeling that a lot of people are staring at him as he goes through the hallways. It feels like people are talking about him behind his back, and he has no idea why. When he gets to councilor Riley's class, councilor Riley pulls Fin aside before class and tells him that he's here if he ever needs anything. Fin counts it as strange but assumes he's found out about Moxie.

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"I told you it was gonna happen. He wasn't getting any air."

"But when he conked out, he didn't need the blindfold anymore. It all worked out fine."

"Yeah, try saying that when you're the one carrying him."

Thomas felt heavy. His muscles were screaming. Only one afternoon in the recycling district and already I feel lousy. But why am I sideways? I always sleep on my back. He tried to change positions, only to find out he couldn't move his arms. What— His brain worked sluggishly to make sense of things. What—

In a rush, the events of the previous evening came crashing over him. The field trip. The magnium. His "rescue'. Blacking out on the journey here. Wherever here might be. He forced himself not to react, not to move. He had no idea where he was, but he wanted to know before anyone else did.

He cracked open an eye. He was lying on the floor in a cramped, dingy-looking room he didn't recognize. No wonder he was sore. His dubious rescue party huddled together in front of the only visible door, also sitting on the floor. Thomas was separated from them only by a pile of discarded black masks, sweatpants, hoodies, and the like. None of them had noticed yet that he was awake. That was just fine with Thomas. It gave him an opportunity for the first time to observe his captors.

The female, the one who Thomas had first encountered, had been well obscured by the explosions the night before. Now he could get a good view of her long, ashy-blonde hair gathered at the nape of her neck with a lavender scrunchie. She wore jeans ripped at the knees and a camouflage jacket that was not quite as long as the purple t-shirt beneath it. But all of that could easily be changed if she went into hiding. Thomas scanned her for more permanent features, something that would define her in a crowd. Thin, muscular body type. Other than a few freckles, which could easily be hidden with makeup, from where he was sitting he could see nothing that would be of any use to the officials.

The smaller of the two men was little improvement. Brown hair, blue eyes, average height, average build. Thomas could have cried. To make matters worse, his choice of attire was as generic as the rest of his appearance: plain jeans with no rips, no embroidery on the pockets, nothing of the sort, and a red t-shirt with the name of that show Dezi liked silkscreened across the back. At least he had an earring. A tattoo or a scar would've been better, but an earring was something.

He fared far better with the bulkier of the two men. Right off, his hair was an electric blue that would be hard to hide. On his face perched a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses. His black stealth suit cast off, he was now clad in a sleeveless pink animal print shirt and neon yellow yoga pants in a geometric pattern that made Thomas seasick. Only in a night as chaotic as the one previous could he have even dreamed of slipping away anywhere unnoticed. When I get out of here, thought Thomas, at least I'll have no trouble providing a description of this one.

They were all young, close to Thomas's own age, which surprised him. Then again, they were likely working beneath somebody. The words of the female came back to him. "He said you'd be like this."

This had to be a mistake. It was a mistake! So maybe somebody in his ASOC actually had magnium on them. The sensors had said so, after all. It wouldn't just randomly happen on its own. Quicksilver Academy had a hand in educating some of the most powerful families in the territory. And the ASOCs were the very cream of the crop. So yeah, of course it wouldn't take long before some dangerous person came up with the idea to use the up-and-coming generation to infiltrate the government. And maybe these stooges were sent to spring whoever it was out of prison. But it wasn't him! They'd gotten the wrong man! Outside of a textbook, Thomas had never even seen magnium!

The thought made Thomas sick. For two reasons: that meant there was still some Judas ASOC floating around out there with magnium on his hands. And nobody would even be looking for him, because everyone thought it was Thomas.

He burned to break free and turn himself in. He had to clear his name! His future, his reputation, likely even his freedom rode on it! Not to mention, the government had to be alerted that the man they were after was still on the loose. Once the Hub knew that, there would be no stopping them. They'd get their man. They always did. And right now their man was Thomas. If he waited too long, they would catch up to him. Then it would be impossible to plead innocent without looking like he was just trying to save his own skin. No, he had to get away. Somehow.

He shifted, realizing suddenly that the movement, while painful, didn't sent hot iron spikes coursing through his shoulders. He may still be cuffed, but at least the goons had been so hospitable as to return his arms to their sockets.

The blue-haired one caught the movement. "Looks like sleeping beauty's up," he leered. His companions turned, abandoning their game of mahjong for the time being.

"Oh, good," the female smiled. "I've been waiting for you to come around." She strode up to him until he was eye level with her scuffed sneakers. Without warning, she drew back and kicked him in the ribs. All the air rushed out of Thomas's lungs with a strained oof. "That is for biting," Before he could recover, she kicked him a second time. "And that is for trying to get us all caught," He tried to struggle to his feet. Turns out, that's not easy to do without hands. The girl reloaded, this time clipping his stomach. "And THAT is for just being an all-around jerkwad!"

Thomas gasped for breath. His attacker-turned-rescuer-turned-attacker used her foot to flip him over so he was lying on his back. She trapped his chest under her foot. "I hope you feel satisfied with yourself," She bit out. "Do you have any idea how much more difficult you made things for us?"

Thomas glared. "You're not exactly endearing yourselves to me either," he wheezed.

A/N: Somewhere in here, Thomas exchanges some unpleasant words with his captors. Not long, a couple lines maybe. Just enough to get both parties angry with each other.

(This is Jigsaw, the blue-haired one, talking.) "Ya' oughtta be more careful how ya' shoot yer' mouth, ya' little freak! I can crush you with my bare—"

The female stuck out an arm, halting blue hair from getting any closer. "Watch it, Jig. You think it's a pain babysitting him now, if you break his leg you're gonna be the one carrying him everywhere." 'Jig' backed off. Thomas had no idea why the female seemed to be the one in charge, but the others accepted it without argument.

"You should let him," he said sorely. "Why stop there? Just kill me. What's murder after I never finished this line of dialogue, oops 😅. Hopefully you can tell where I was going with this train of thought.

"You just can't get it though your skull that we saved your skin. I hate working with stubborn jerkwads like you. Normally I'd say, you wanna fulfill your lifelong dream of being locked in solitary confinement? Fine by me. But I'm here Again, I didn't finish the line. Harper is saying that she'd love to turn Thomas loose, but a job's a job and she has her orders.

They bicker back and forth for a while, at some point Thomas is helped up off the floor.  They learn Thomas's name and insist on calling him Tommy, this only makes Thomas angrier. Thomas is all the time looking for a chance to escape, and his kidnappers notice (he's not precisely subtle about it). Harper tries to explain to Thomas that they didn't get the wrong person, they were looking for HIM, and that they're doing this for his own good, but Thomas doesn't believe her no matter what she says.

Her face grew calm. "Alright, Tommy. I'll show you how serious we are." She reached behind him. Thomas braced himself for pain, but to his surprise he felt his handcuffs click open. "Call me Harper. This is Jigsaw," she nodded to blue hair, "and Xavier. Now you know our names and what we look like. We've got all the more incentive not to let you out of our sights for a moment."

Thomas is not in the mood to make friends with who he views as dangerous, lawbreaking goons. He immediately tries to fight so he can escape.

She held up a hand. "There're three of us and one of you. Try to make any trouble, and the cuffs go back on."

Much as it burned him, she was right. Kickboxing wasn't made for such tight spaces. Anyway, if he was to have any hope at all of outrunning these guys all the way to the Hub, he badly needed the element of surprise. He settled back, crossing his arms across his chest. His hand brushed over something wet. He glanced down. His fingers were coated in a slick, silvery substance.

Ick! Thomas jerked instinctively. He shook his hand to rid it of the offending material.

"Yeah," the one named Xavier spoke up for the first time since Thomas awoke. His voice was unexpectedly mild. "All that untapped magnium we used to spring you loose got all over everything once we lit it up. Twenty bucks says that the— what was it, the Byzantium?"

"Citadel," Harper corrected.

Xavier waved his hand. "Citadel, then. All those buildings look the same to me. Twenty bucks says the Citadel still has magnium dripping from the ceiling."

Jigsaw snorted. "I'll take that bet! Those government freaks probably spent all night scrubbing the place down."

"I'm with Jig," Harper put in. "Any magnium left is probably running down the city's sewers by now." She sighed, brows furrowed. "Such a waste."

Blah blah blah something happens here. Harper takes off her jacket.

[Thomas] he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. The girl had a polar bear tattoo just above her elbow. The same tattoo he'd seen when Blaise and his ne'er-do-well groupies were having out their revenge on him.

A new possibility entered his mind, something too horrible to even consider. It couldn't be...

He dismissed the insane notion. No. No. Blaise was a lazy good-for-nothing who delighted in seeing him suffer, but that was it. He wouldn't, couldn't be a terrorist against the government. He refused to believe it. His own brother.

It was a coincidence. After all, it was common knowledge that was Blaise was not the first Quicksilver alumn to go rogue. Especially the QS dropouts. Though, this was the first thus far Thomas had encountered that had aspired to terrorism. Most preferred such titillating activities as stuffing their faces with cheez puffs in their parents' basements.

Ah. Wait a minute... A memory hovered on the edges of his brain. Years ago, when Thomas was a freshman. A student in one of the upper grades, with a reputation of being a brawler... It might have even been Blaise's grade... Yes, he was sure of it. Thomas had seen the two of them together. Travis Bolton. For a short time, he had been a legend at Quicksilver, but for all the wrong reasons. He was outspoken in his disgust for authority in any form. He never wore the school uniform. He was always being taken in for getting himself into scraps, sometimes multiple times a day. And... If Thomas remembered right, he insisted on going by the name Jigsaw.

In between these two paragraphs, Thomas's school blazer is forcefully taken away from him by Jigsaw.

There was a loud sound of ripping fabric, and the garment lay in two pieces on the floor. Thomas knew he had a lot bigger fish to fry at the moment, but he couldn't suppress a stab of outrage. His school uniform! Ruined!

And of course, the magnium that Blaise had sewn in was discovered.

Thomas felt an ulcer forming in his stomach. So it was true. Blaise was involved in a magnium smuggling ring. And probably worse. He could no longer deny it, all the evidence needed to convict was right in front of him. He'd known his brother had a rebellious streak in him all his life, but this? This was taking it way too far!

"Alright," Harper spoke, paying no heed to the fact that Thomas's world was on its ear. She gestured to the pile of used laundry. "Xavier, stuff that into the bags. Jig, help me keep ahold of Tommy here. It's time we get going."

Blah blah blah etc. Somehow Blaise's middle name being Patrick comes up in conversation. Nobody thinks too much of it until Thomas mentions how much Blaise hates the name.

Harper tells Xavier to hurry up, they need to leave.

"Jus' a sec'," Xavier sniggered, "I'm changing Blaise's contact in my phone to Pattie."

Even more blah blah blah, not sure exactly what happens here but probably Thomas mouths off to Jigsaw. Jigsaw has had enough and roughly pins Thomas to a wall, threatening to beat him up.

"I've had about enough from you." His hot breath washed over Thomas's face. It smelled, not foul like Thomas expected, but like Altoid mints. He hocked up a mouthful of saliva and spat to one side. "Yer' lucky I left my bat at home, freak-boy."

Xavier popped his knuckles, looking bored. "Jigsaw, you've been laying it on pretty thick since this morning," he yawned. "Don't you think it's about time you dropped the charade?"

Jigsaw looked at Xavier. The snarl dropped off his face, replaced with a sardonic grin. "You're right. I was laying it on thick. But he believed it. Every word." His eyes scanned Thomas's face, lip curled disdainfully. "I mean, look at 'im! He thinks I carry around a baseball bat!" He shook his head. "You Quicksilver kids are something else, you know that?"

So basically Jigsaw's entire personality up to that point was just a farce that he puts on to freak out the stuffy Quicksilver kids who automatically assume he's a thug. He's actually a pretty down-to-earth guy.

I'm not sure who's saying this line. It's either Xavier talking about his earring, or Jigsaw talking about his dyed hair. Whoever it is, they're talking to Thomas. "Like, I get it that that's how it is at Quicksilver. But everywhere else? It's just kinda something people do. Personal preference. No different than wearing white socks instead of black. You don't have to be, like, rebelling against anything."

So they get going or something. Yup. End of Thomas POV, insert line break here:

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"I'm home!" Fin called, crossing the threshold. The house was eerily quiet. Thomas wasn't around to scold him for tracking dust across the foyer. Huh. I guess the student council must be doing something today.

He motioned for his friends to follow him inside. "I brought Ob with me! And the Delrays and my friend Moxie! We wanted to work on our... project..." He trailed off. The parlor was empty. The kitchen and dining room were empty too. He couldn't hear the twins playing. Or Dezi watching TV. Or anybody bickering. Strange. Somebody oughta be home by now.

"Maybe they got held up in traffic," Larry suggested.

"Wait." Moxie pointed. The doorless frame that connected the dining room to the den was illuminated.

Fin breathed a sigh of relief. "Mom? Meg? Who's here?" He pulled up short in the archway.

Oberon slammed into his back. "Hey, what's— " He cut off.

Two men in suits occupied the Anderssen's couch. Between them and Fin stood a woman in a navy pantsuit. It only took a glance to recognize them as government officials from the Hub. Other than that, there was no sign of anybody. All three of the officials were peering at them. It reminded Fin of what happened that day in counselor Riley's classroom. Moxie drew back so she was semi-hidden behind the twins.

The woman stepped forward to greet them.

She greets them with cold politeness at first, but when she asks them about where Fin's family is, they don't know anything about it. The officials think Fin is lying to protect his family.

"Don't play ignorant, boys. You should know exactly what this is about," She chided. "It's spelled out clearly enough in the security alert on your phones." When she was met with five blank looks, she raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that on top of everything else, our broadcast signal has gone down too. You did receive a broadcast security alert, yes?"

Fin shrugged. "My mom says I'm not allowed to have a phone until I'm in high school." He turned to Oberon. "Did you get a security alert on yours, Ob?"

"My phone's been off since yesterday. I can't find my charger and it's, like, running on nothing but prayer right now."

Larry shoved Oberon's arm. "Just borrow somebody's charger, doofus."

"The one who calls somebody a doofus is a doofus!"

"Crap, guys! Look at this!" Perry had dug his phone out of his uniform pocket. The five of them crowded around the seven inch screen. The words Broadcast Security Alert! shone in angry red letters.

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The Hub has announced a territory-wide manhunt for fugitive from justice Thomas Anderssen, age 17. Anderssen is wanted on charges of arson, destruction of property, resisting arrest, suspicion of harboring an illicit substance and suspicion of grand theft. Suspect may be traveling with an accomplice. Anderssen is considered armed and dangerous. Anyone who may have information on this matter, call our anonymous hotline at x-(xxx)-xxx-xxxx.

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Fin couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. "Thomas? A criminal? What did Thomas do?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss those details at this time," the official said crisply. She hesitated, then said more quietly, "But if you scroll up to the last few alerts, you're free to draw your own conclusions."

Fin skimmed the message he'd missed earlier that day, about the information, the fire, the lockdown. Well, that explained why everyone was looking at him so weirdly at school. Not to mention the lock-in— and the officials. "And you think... that Thomas did this?"

The official nodded. Her brown eyes crinkled in sympathy. "I'm afraid so."

"That doesn't sound like Thomas," Fin said doubtfully. He tried to imagine his stiff older brother participating in a rebellion against the government. "He wants to work at the Hub someday. He'd never do anything like this."

The woman's voice level dropped to where her fellow officers couldn't hear. "There's no mistake. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I was in the Citadel when he escaped. He was on his way to the holding cell on suspicion of magnium smuggling."

Fin's scalp tingled. Magnium. If there really hadn't been any mistake, then Thomas was in real trouble.

The group of friends all looked at each other.

"This is crazy, man," said Oberon.

"Terrorists," breathed Perry, "Inside the barrier..."

The official murmured, "You didn't hear that from me, okay?" At regular volume, she said, "From your size, I assume you are Phineas."

Fin nodded. "Most people call me Fin."

She held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Fin. I wish it had been under better circumstances. I'm Ensign Eldstein. You can call me Leah." He shook it, dazed.

"...So, where's the rest of my family?"

Leah frowned. "We were hoping you could tell us that. The house was empty during the lockdown. We've been staked out here since then, but you're the first person to show up. We can't locate any of their phones either."

Fin's head swam. The Hub had arms everywhere. If the Hub hadn't found his family, then they weren't out running errands. They were gone. Gone gone. First Thomas, now everyone else too. He was alone.

"What'm I gonna do..." He murmured.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked back. Moxie stood next to him, looking concerned. She squeezed his shoulder. "We don't have tons of room at our place, but we can, like, bring you meals or something if you need it. Until they find your folks, I mean."

"Yeah," Oberon added. "And you're always welcome to stay at my place. My parent's don't mind."

"Us too," the twins said with one voice.

"Well, our parents actually might mind," Larry began.

"—But we're great persuaders when we want to be," Perry finished. "Besides, we know you're innocent. You were at Ob's with us all night."

Fin managed a smile. "Thanks, guys."

"Actually, Fin needs to come with us right now," Leah interrupted. "Sorry, Fin, but we're going to have to take you in for questioning." (End of chapter XI)

Some time later. Probably there would be some sections between this one and the end of chapter XI so it's not two Fin POVs right next to each other. 

At the beginning of this is an interrogation scene between Fin and the Hub officials. Ensign Leah Eldstein plays good cop while another official is bad cop. They take him in to have several tests done by various machines, taking fingerprint from him, an eye scan, a blood draw, etc etc. They also give him several brain teaser puzzles to solve in order to measure his brain activity. The interrogation itself is nothing bad or cruel, they only ask him some questions while he's hooked up to a lie detector. Fin is just exiting the interrogation room:

"The Hub has deemed you not a threat. We believe you had no part in what your brother was doing."

La de dah, walking down the hallway, describing what the building looks like. 

"One last thing before we let you go. Your records indicate that you are right handed. Is that information correct?" Fin nodded. So did Leah. Such questions were merely a formality at the Hub. They weren't in the habit of collecting incorrect information. "You're free to go, but I'm going to have to ask you to put your arm in one of these for a moment." They came to a stop alongside a wall spaced every two feet with some sort of black box, a hole in the front of each just large enough to fit a human arm.

Obediently, Fin stuck his hand inside. Immediately the machine whirred to life. The hole tightened around Fin, preventing him from moving. He felt a sensation like cold air blowing across his arm. The contraption clicked and he felt a short tug, then the tension holding him inside the metal box was released. He slid his arm out gingerly. Encircling his wrist was a seamless chrome band. It hovered above his skin a millimeter on every side. Fin shook out his hand. The circlet remained an equal millimeter away on every side, as if it was attached somehow.

"This doesn't make you a prisoner," Leah said gently. "We just want to make sure we don't lose you too. Nobody has been able to find hide or hair of your mother or any of your siblings since the security breach. The Hub doesn't take kindly to losing people."

Probably a chapter or two later, Meg's POV:

the twins had been put to bed. If they felt any of the uneasiness of being in a big, empty house that wasn't meant to be a big, empty house, one where the family inside had clearly left in a hurry, they didn't show it. Both went to bed without a fuss and fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow. Meg supposed it had been a tiring day, though. She wouldn't have minded some shut-eye herself-- that is, if she hadn't been so wired. A million questions buzzed in her head like bees, each one trying to drone louder than the previous one.

If Meg had to guess, she'd say Dezi was taking this sudden development the hardest. He seemed to be in some state of shock, following their mother's orders without a word. He'd been basically mute ever since they left their house behind. And whenever their mother or this mysterious new terrorist boyfriend of hers wasn't telling them to do this or that, Meg would catch Dezi staring at his phone. Not in the way he usually stared at his phone, either. That wouldn't have struck Meg as unusual, the thing was practically attached to Dezi's hand after all. No, the phone wasn't even turned on. He was just... staring at it, at the outside of it!

Meg and Dezi start to pester Caroline to tell them what's going on, but they hesitate. Oh by the way, there would've probably been a section from Dezi's POV sometime before this point that took place when they were escaping.

"We've been uprooted from our lives, don't we at least have the right to know what's going on? Even a little bit?"

I guess Juno gets mad???

"No, darling, they're right. I promised that once we were to safety, I would explain what I could. I can't go back on my word." She faced Meg and Dezi. "You're right. You've been through a lot these past few days. I owe you at least some sort of explanation." She held each of their gazes very seriously for a moment, first Dezi, then Meg. "I'll tell you what I can-- but that's all. There are some things that I can't say yet, do you understand?" She asked gently.

The two nodded. Meg felt a bit of regret for speaking so harshly earlier. Her mom looked so tired. So unlike her usual chipper self.

Meg's mother lowered her head, appearing to think very hard about what to say next. She took a long, slow breath. "My name..." She began, choosing each word carefully. "...is not Caroline. My name is Koura." End of chapter. ("Koura" by the way, is pronounced "Cow-ra", not like Legends of Korra).

Later again, Juno's POV. Caroline "Koura" has pulled Juno aside. She's anxious. So is Juno, but for different reasons.

"I'm going back for them. Now that I'm sure everyone's safe."

"Koura," Juno protested, letting the name he was more used to slip out. It felt right, so much more natural than the false name she'd taken for herself.

Koura shook her head. "I don't expect you to put yourself in danger. But I have children inside the Walled City. I can't abandon them."

He waved his hands wildly, trying to make her see, make her understand, what a dumb move this was. "If you're caught, you forfeit your life!"

"And if I do nothing, I forfeit my son's lives. Juno, they are my sons! How could I live with myself--"

"And what about your other kids, Koura? The ones here. They've already lost one parent. Why should they lose both? Koura, you have to think of the children you still have--"

Koura cut him off harshly. "They are not the children I still have. I still have three sons, Juno! I haven't lost them, not yet! Those missing boys are still my children!"

Anger surged within him. He began to say something scathing in reply, then cut himself off, instead whirling around and stomping off a few paces. He focused on calming himself, stilling his breathing. He wasn't mad at Koura, not really. How could he be? Her reasons were legitimate. Frustration, nothing but raw frustration throbbed through him. After the trouble he'd expended to keep her safe, the thought of her going back into that dystopian, martial cesspit and throwing their precautions to the wind brought bile into Juno's mouth.

Juno understood Koura. He did. If it were Hito inside the city, he would have been exactly the same. He knew he couldn't be mad at her, because she was right. What mother in her right mind would sacrifice the lives of her sons for her own comfort?

But darn it all, he didn't want to understand. He had seen firsthand that blasted government's attitude toward outsiders. He didn't want that for Koura. His love. His bride.

Jerkily, muscles still locked tight from the tension, he returned to face his fiancé.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "At least... If somebody has to go back, let me go. There's no reason that you should endanger--"

Koura cut him off. "No, Juno. You said it before, you have things you need to take care of here. I don't know your new friends, you and your son are the only ones who can track down what happened to them."

Juno opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't. As much as he was willing to do this if it meant sparing his childhood sweetheart from danger, he was anxious to find Saffra and Ingo. The way they left their normally immaculate house helter-skelter, the way they threw Hito out on his ear, something felt intensely wrong about the whole scenario. He had a strong intuition, and not one that he liked. He hoped with all he had to hope that he was wrong, but he likely wasn't.

Koura met him head-on, eyes blazing with determined strength. "I can take care of myself, love," she said, gently and yet in a tone that left no room for argument. "When I entered the territory the first time, I had to fend for myself with nobody with me, and that was when I was a scared teenager. I've grown since then. I'm going to find my boys."

Another time skip, this is probably several chapters in the future. Thomas has managed to drag Blaise back to the Anderssen house. Colin, Harper, Jigsaw, and Xavier are somewhere else right now. Not sure if they're together or not.

"We figured we'd find you here eventually," spoke a sharp voice behind Thomas. An official from the Hub descended the stairs. "And how good of you to bring your accomplice along with you."

Blaise turned to make a break for it, but more officials were there to cut off his escape route. They were surrounded.

A woman official with a mean glint in her eye clicked a set of handcuffs onto them. "You two are coming with us."

And that's all that I have so far in my partially finished drafts. Thanks for reading!