Thomas didn't say anything initially. He had known that Oscar had his own network of people to help him. He had also known, somewhere in the depths of his mind, that theft would probably have been a part of it. The liquids he'd taken would have had to come from somewhere and the Fixer was certainly not intelligent enough to create them himself.

To stay, Thomas would have to become one of them. He'd have to steal. Could he do that? Did his continued existence depend on turning to a life of crime? The thought made him shudder inside. Taking an extra cookie while his father wasn't looking was one thing. The potions he'd had or all the things Oscar was infamous for being able to supply was another. He didn't have powers. He wouldn't be able to defend himself if he were caught. He couldn't break into homes or offices. He couldn't levitate into high windows or make himself looks like a section of wall.

He was simply Thomas. A boy. Just a boy.

"But I can't do anything. What good am I to you?"

"Didn't those mixers do anything for you?"

"No, nothing."

"That's odd. You're odd Thomas."

"I am," Thomas said sadly. "But being odd doesn't help me fly or break things."

"Kiddo, don't kid yersen. You'll still be valuable to me."

Valuable? Was the Fixer going to hand him over to the Spotters? It would go a long way to ensuring his immunity to prosecution for his activities. Was that why he'd been taken in? So he could be used? For Oscar, it would be better than letting him get caught. Leverage would definitely be 'valuable'.

Oscar must have seen what Thomas was thinking from the look on his face. He laughed, a quick snort of humour that made him wipe his nose on the back of his hand and wipe the hand on his jeans.

"Don't panic, kiddo," he sniggered. "I ain't letting you go. You're safe here. Join the family, get what I ask, and you'll be ruling this town with the rest of us."

"And if I don't?" Thomas figured the answer to that would be to be pushed back through the disappearing door, and face whatever had been coming for him.

Oscar stared at him, as if surprised someone could even contemplate the possibility.

"Well... if you don't, you'll find yourself in a spot of bother, and we'll be parting ways."

"I thought so," Thomas said. "You'll hand me over, just like my dad."

"Well, not quite like him."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, kiddo. I can't 'ave you givin' 'em all my secrets."

"I guess."

"You guess right. So, we would have to take precautions."

"What sort of precautions?"

"We'd have to make sure you couldn't tell them anything."

Thomas noticed Oscar dropped letters in his speech erratically. It was as if they'd fall from his words, then he'd notice them piling up at his feet and pick them up again. He wondered if the man knew he was doing it. Was it a ruse to make him sound more educated than his appearance suggested, or exactly as much when the occasion demanded? Surrounded by his 'family', he didn't stick to one form or the other, maybe deliberately to keep everyone guessing, or perhaps just to keep in practice.

"How would you do that."

"We'd put you to sleep. We'd make sure you didn't wake up."

"You'd kill me?"

"Kiddo, what sort of people do you think we are? We're not monsters! We'd give you something to help you sleep, and Steady Eddie over there would keep you that way until they've done with you. We'd be doing you a favour, if you think about it."

Thomas did think about it. He also looked to where Oscar gestured when he mentioned 'Steady Eddie'. The group of children was fairly thick, and no one was standing out, but he saw one of the boys with a slight smile on his face. Thomas had the feeling the boy liked the fact his name had been mentioned, but didn't quite like the context involved.

He didn't really have a choice. If he wanted to stay alive, he'd have to do as Oscar said. Take the offer. Become a thief.

He remembered what Bren had said. Where these the ones who she'd spoken of? He asked Oscar.

"Bren? No, never heard of no one called Bren."

Thomas was pleased. Bren didn't have good memories of her time with whichever gang she was referring to. He hoped being a part of this family would be better.

"Why will I be of use to you?" he asked. "I don't have powers."

"Because people will underestimate you, or rather overestimate, which is still a dangerous thing. They'll be expecting, if they catch you, for you to do something. Use whatever power you might have."

"But, I don't have any."

"No, you don't, and when they realise that, they'll be even more scared."

"But, why?"

"Because then you could go insane at any minute. If you did it right there, and then your powers came, you could do a lot of damage."

Thomas nodded. He knew the risks.

"What if that does happen?"

"It won't."

"Why? How do you know?"

"You took all three of them potions. If they ain't worked, you ain't getting no powers. You also ain't gonna lose your mind."

"How do you know?"

"Kiddo," Oscar said impatiently. "Enough questions. Just trust me, OK?"

Thomas nodded.

"I'm in," he said.

"Of course you are," Oscar said, smiling. "I knew from the moment you came through the door."

Thomas didn't know which door the Fixer was talking about. The disappearing one that had brought him to this room, or the one to his office, when the boy had bought the vials. Either way, it didn't really matter. He was trapped. The 'family' was welcoming and smiling and accepting, but he still felt trapped.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Now, you get to work."

"Already?"

"There's no time like the present," Oscar said. "There's never no time like the present."

"What do you me to do?"

Oscar handed him a small box.

"Put this on."

Thomas opened the box. Inside was a watch. It was gunmetal grey, but seemed to be made out of silicone, like the fitness tracker his father used to wear when thinking about fitness had been a part of his life, something that hadn't been the case for a long time.

"A watch?"

"A watch."

"I already have one," Said Thomas, holding out his wrist.

"And now you have another. I suggest you swap them. I'll keep yours safe."

Thomas did as he was asked. A short time ago, he'd have refused. The watch had been a gift from his father. That father had been a loving one. The father he had now was a traitor. The watch no longer held the same sentimental value it so recently had. He handed it over and strapped on the new one.

"Why do I need a new watch?"

"So you can tell the time," said Oscar. "So, when I say you've got twenty minutes to get me something, it takes you nineteen. So when they're looking for you, they can't find you."

"Can't...?"

Thomas looked more closely at the watch. It appeared normal. There were a couple of buttons on the side, presumably for an alarm or stopwatch. It looked to be otherwise normal.

"Is it a..."

"A blocker. It certainly is."

"It's so small."

"You'd be surprised what you can fit into sumin that size," Oscar said. "Now they won't be able to detect ya. You can do your work 'n' know, at least, you won't be back on t' Spot."

"Thank you," Thomas said. He meant it.

"Don't get any ideas, though."

"Ideas?" Thomas frowned. What ideas could he get?

"Like doin' a runner."

"A runner? Why would I? I didn't think of that."

"And now I've put the idea in ya 'ead. You can clear it right outta there."

"I wouldn't do that." Again, Thomas meant it. Even if he had, he wouldn't carry out it out. Here, he was part of something. Something he hoped would afford him some protection, particularly with the blocker.

"Well, that's as maybe," Oscar said. "But, if you did," he leaned in and Thomas could feel the man's breath on his face. It smelled fresh. Minty, but with a hint of another odour. One that slightly soured the smell. "I'd find you."

"You've got Wolves?" Thomas asked, referring to those talented in tracking.

"No. You've got that watch."

Thomas inspected it again. It still looked innocent.

"It's a tracker?"

"Damn right, it is," Oscar said, straightening. "It's a blocker, a tracker and it'll even tell me if you've taken it off your wrist. So I suggest you don't."

Thomas shook his head.

"I won't."

Oscar patted him on the shoulder and Thomas saw the surrounding children relax. He hadn't realised there was tension into the room until that moment, and its release was dizzying.

"I know, kiddo. I know."