Art had now given up hope that Storm would arrive. It was as if his wife had disappeared off the face of the earth. Was she just delayed, or had she been captured? It didn't seem to matter at the moment, since she wasn't there, and the deadlock was opening. There was no way he could reach the girls without Storm and the van ...

Brick's voice cracked when he spoke. "Where is she? Where's Storm? Why isn't she here? Trina could be drowning!"

Art went to answer when a horn blaring in the distance caught his attention. His head shot up as Storm's van came blaring towards them, and came to a screeching halt beside them. She opened the door. "Get in," she snapped. "We need to hurry."

Art scrambled into the shotgun seat, pulling Brick in behind him. "They're probably already under," Art fretted.

"Then we will pull them out," Brick insisted. "Come on!"

As Art slammed the door shut, Storm stamped on the accelerator pedal and they shot off, towards the dome. People yelled and screamed, scattering out of their way. Guards fired at the van, bullets bouncing off the bullet-proof metal. Even so, Brick ducked, as if the shots could hit them.

The van rammed through the metal doors, crunching, but not stopping. Art cringed as they were plunged into water; Storm didn't hesitate. She kept plowing through the water, her gaze intense and her knuckles white on the wheel. "Look for them," she ordered as they drove through the dome and out into the ocean. None of the guards could follow them now.

Brick pressed his face against the window in the back of the van, obviously searching for his sister with desperation. Art knew he had the best chance of seeing the two girls and watched. The forcefield around the van would enable them to pull the girls in without any water coming in, but if they didn't find them in time ...

"There!" Storm yelled, pointing. Art swiveled his gaze to the windshield and saw Silence, thrashing around, trying to reach the surface. Judging from her panicked movements, Art was afraid that she wouldn't last until the van got alongside her.

"I'm going," he said, pulling his trench coat off and diving out the door. He didn't hesitate, even though the freezing ocean temperatures sent shivers through him. Swimming as swiftly as he could, Art pushed his way through the water, trying to get over to Silence.

When his extended hand touched Silence's hand, the girl screamed, losing some of her precious air, and smacked Art directly in the face. He forced himself to ignore the blood now mingling with the salt water and pulled Silence to him, wrapping his arm around hers and keeping them pinned to her sides. It hindered his ability to swim, but kept the girl from further struggling as he pushed his way back through, desperate.

Bubbles of air escaped Art's lips as he fought to reach the van. Silence became limp in his arms, and he hated to consider what might have happened to her. Was he simply bringing her corpse back to her brother?

No. He couldn't think like that. He had to get back to the van, had to make it ...

A hand clamped down on Art's arm. He had to suppress a moment of heart-stopping terror, rationalizing with himself. It was most likely Brick or Storm. He helped the hand along as he was dragged back into the van, and collapsed to the floor in the back, coughing up water.

To Art's enormous relief, he heard Silence likewise coughing and gagging. He turned to the girl, seeing Brick envelope her in an embrace of sheer relief. "Trina! Trina, thank God you're okay!" he exclaimed repeatedly.

"You're choking me, Drake," Silence choked out, though she was embracing him just as hard. Art smiled at them, though he was still gagging on salt water. It tasted foul.

"There's the other one!" Storm interrupted them, unhooking her own seatbelt. Before Art could stop her, she'd lunged out the door and was swimming off, into the darkness of the ocean.

Art scrambled to his feet, running for the driver's seat. He slid into it, trying to follow Storm, panicking when he realized that he'd lost sight of her. "Storm!" he yelled, too weak to follow her. His arms burned and his legs throbbed from his frenzied swim to Silence's side. If Storm was drowning ...

Silence and Brick joined Art, watching in horror as the trio desperately sought both Storm and Ivy. The darkness of the water seemed to deter the twins, but Art kept searching. How long could Ivy last? Silence had nearly died, and Ivy had been in the water for almost a minute longer than her.

Ten more seconds passed before Art finally came to his decision. "I'm going in after them," he said.

"You're in no condition to do that!" Silence cried hoarsely. "You'll drown!"

"So will they!" Art yelled before diving out the door.

"Art!" Silence wailed after him. He ignored her and kept swimming, desperately searching for his wife, ignoring the cramps that were threatening.

Then he saw Ivy, sinking towards the bottom of the ocean. He fought through the water, struggling to reach the girl with a rather doomed notion. She was starting to slow, her struggled efforts to reach the surface stopping. Bubbles were escaping her lips.

As Art reached towards her, only feet away from her, Ivy stopped fighting, her green eyes closing as she went limp and sank like a stone.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hal wriggled around in the van, trying to escape the ropes binding him. A clamp around his forearm must have prevented the use of powers, because he couldn't burn through them. Not that he really wanted to, considering that he'd nearly killed himself last time his powers had activated, but he would've to get out of the ropes.

Diana was conscious as well, across from Hal, likewise tied up. Both of them were gagged and they could barely bring themselves to look at each other. Doc drove them silently, having already brought them outside of Haven through a secret door. They were currently driving through the water.

Hal tried not to think about Silence. Was she dead? Had the others died trying to rescue her? Swallowing past a lump in his throat, he met Diana's eyes for the first time since they'd woken up. Hers were filled with tears, and she quickly looked away. It would seem that their minds were running along similar lines, and not in a good way.

Hal squirmed again in an attempt to reach Diana. However, the movements caught Doc's attention from the front, and the man snapped at him. "Don't move, boy!"

Grimacing, Hal slumped back and sighed through his gag. He wanted to be free, he wanted to be helping the others, but he was trapped. And, if Doc's words were to be believed, they were being taken to United. Once there, who knew what would happen? All Hal knew about them was that they hated supers. Would they just kill Hal, or would he be torn apart and dissected by scientists? Thrown into solitary confinement for the rest of his life?

None of the options were appealing. His only comfort was the fact that he would be sharing the pain with Diana. Not that it was comforting that she would be in pain, but it would be comforting to know that she was there with him. And it was slightly ridiculous that he was thinking about that moment, when he was bound and gagged in the back of the van.

That kiss. How weird, that he'd convinced himself that he cared nothing for Diana, only for a single kiss to change his mind. He loved her now and wanted to protect her. Not that he'd be able to do a good job of it, considering he couldn't even protect himself.

But it was a good thought, at least.

Hal leaned further back, his eyes flicking back to Doc. The man was glaring at him in the rearview mirror, and Hal quickly looked away. No use making the irritable man any more annoyed than he already was.

Diana gave a choked sob, and Hal looked at her. Her face was ashen grey and she was trying not to look at him. Fat lot of good that did her, when he could hear her crying. He tried to move across the distance to sit next to her, but another barked threat from Doc kept him where he was. He simply nudged her foot with his and did his best to give her a reassuring look.

He could have used a reassuring look himself.

. . . . . . . . . .

Art grabbed Ivy and struggled to pull her back through the water to the van. Without warning, someone grabbed his arm, and he instinctively lashed out at his attacker. A sharp kick that was slowed by the water brought Art's attention to the fact that he'd tried to hit his own wife. Judging from the fiery glare she gave him, she wasn't too thrilled about that.

Together, the two of them grabbed Ivy's arms and kicked their legs, forcing the water away as they swam back to the van. Brick grabbed Ivy, dragging her in, before helping Art and Storm in as well.

Silence had her hands pressed to her mouth. "Is she alive?" she asked, her voice muffled.

Art pressed his fingers against Ivy's neck before pursing his lips. "Barely," he said, and proceeded to perform CPR on the girl. As he did the compressions, focusing with a scowl, counting out the time, Storm slammed all the doors shut and started to drive off.

Art kept pressing, but Ivy's face was taking on a greyish hue. He was beginning to think that it was all hopeless and she was going to die anyway. However, he just kept going, not wanting to admit that she was dead. But it was seeming more and more like that was the only thing that would come about from it ...

Silence was crying, her face pressed against Brick's shoulder. She seemed to have drawn the conclusion that Art was trying not to admit to himself. Brick gently put his arm around Silence's shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Arthur, you may as well stop," Storm said in a defeated tone from the front. "It's hopeless."

"She might still be holding on," Art said stubbornly. "I'm not just going to let her die if she's still holding on!" He was out of breath, gasping, but still pushing, still pressing.

Vaguely, as if from a distance, Art heard Storm sigh in a sad way. He ignored Silence's crying, and Brick's murmured comforts, and just kept pushing. Not for Ivy, necessarily—so that a life, any life, might be spared, when all the others would have let it die. For Guardian. For Diana, who had tried so hard to get through to Art. For Hal, injured, nearly dying from the same treatment his father had received. For Solar, Storm's brother, killed in the prime of his life. For all of them.

Soaking wet, his nose dripping blood, Art probably looked like a mad man. But he didn't stop. If she didn't come back, he doubted he would ever stop. Just someone else he wouldn't be able to save, and he could hardly bear to think of it. "Please," he said quietly. "Wake up. I owe you, wake up, please!"

Without warning, Ivy rolled onto her side, coughing, gasping, gagging. She was vomiting up seawater, and yet the color was returning to her face.

Art sat back and wiped blood and water from his face. Breathing hard, he looked up at Storm; she didn't say anything. Instead, she bent down to his level and kissed him.