"It's okay, kiddos," Art said as the water covered the entirety of the van. "I've done this a million times."

"Drown?!" Hal exclaimed in sheer panic.

"You can only drown once, Hal," Art said. "Honestly. Don't panic."

"I'm panicking," Hal said. "We're under water."

"The car has an oxygen field," Art explained patiently. "Even the part that was shattered by the bullets. The water can't get in here, and we've got plenty of oxygen to take us back to Haven. In the meantime ..." He dug into his pocket and tossed Hal a cellphone as they started driving through the water. "Call your parents. They need to know what's going on with you, kid."

"But ..." Hal stared at the phone. "What do I tell them?"

"The truth," Storm said quietly. "They're your parents. They deserve to know. And think about their concern when they see the news on your street."

"They'll think I'm a monster," he whispered.

"Nah," Art said. "Don't be so melodramatic. They're your family, kid. You could tell them you were a mass murderer and they'd still love you."

Hal wasn't so sure. His parents were so normal. They didn't like anything that interrupted the natural course of their lives, and Hal was pretty sure that the events of that day would interrupt the peace for them. However, he couldn't let them think he was dead. Reluctantly, he dialed his dad's cell and put his ear to the phone.

His dad picked up in seconds. "Hello?"

"Dad, it's me. Hal."

He could hear the relief in his dad's voice. "Hal! You're alright!" Then, in an aside, "Val, he's safe. He's alive."

"It was me, Dad," Hal said, unexpectedly tearing up. "I ... I have powers."

"I know, son."

The response took Hal by surprise. He glanced up, seeing Diana very carefully avoiding his eyes. Storm and Art were conversing in low tones in the front, probably to not eavesdrop. "You ... you knew?" Hal said dumbly.

"Yes." His father sounded defeated. "I wish we could've spared you this. What will you do now?"

"I'm going to Haven. It's supposed to be a safe place for people like me."

"Do what you think is right," Hal's mother yelled from somewhere nearby the phone. "We love you, Hal."

"I want to stay home, Dad," Hal told his father. "But I can't. My powers are uncontrollable without help."

"We'll miss you," his dad said. "Stay in touch. I'm sure that's alright with the Haven guys. And ... Hal? Tell Storm everything's going to be okay. Goodbye, my boy."

"Dad?" Hal was bemused by his father's parting words. "Dad!" But his father had already hung up. Totally confused, he hung up as well and laid the phone on the floor.

"Well?" Diana said.

"They ... they knew what I was. What I am," Hal said. "They said ... Storm, they said everything was going to be okay."

Storm shifted uncomfortably in the front seat. "You should rest, Hal. Today probably took a lot out of you."

Hal laid back, his stomach aching, his mind running. "I don't think I'm ever gonna fall asleep," he said. "Everything just keeps running through my head."

"You'll fall asleep if you're tired enough," Art said.

Hal sighed. "That doesn't really help."

Still, he stared at the roof of the van, trying not to think about all the water around them. He wondered what Haven would look like, and if people would hate him there for what he'd done. But what other choice did he have? There was nowhere else he could go that he would be protected and taught.

With those thoughts in his mind, Hal abruptly fell asleep.

. . . . . . . . . .

Art glanced back, seeing both Diana and Hal fast asleep behind them. He turned the radio up a little before turning to his wife somewhat. "We've got about two hours before we reach Haven," he said quietly. "What do you make of this kid?" He jerked his head back at Hal.

Storm looked at the boy curiously. "I don't know. I don't know why his parents spoke to me, either." However, there was a hint of something in her voice that indicated her words weren't entirely true. Still, Art knew she was incredibly close-mouthed about things she didn't want to say, and he decided it might be better if he let the matter drop.

Storm changed the subject, another sure sign of a secret. "Poor Diana. I can't believe they had the audacity to kidnap her, right out from under our noses."

"It was unexpected," Art admitted. "Maybe we're getting too old for this 'guardian' business."

Storm fixed him with a harsh look. "Maybe you're too old, but I'm not," she snapped.

"You're older than me," Art muttered under his breath.

Storm smacked him in the head. "Both mentally and physically," she said. "You have the brain capacity of a five year old."

"Give me a little credit," Art said, putting his hands in the air. "A six year old."

Storm had to chuckle at that. "Fine. I'll give you that."

The two spent the rest of the ride underwater in companionable silence. It wasn't the first time they'd brought supers to Haven, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Art glanced at his wife, casually wondering if she remembered the first time they'd been to Haven together. When she had brought him, injured and dying, to safety, out of the kindness of her heart. He certainly hadn't deserved her mercy.

Storm glanced at him with a smile. "It doesn't take Diana to know what you're thinking," she said two hours later. "We're nearly there, sweetie. I think you should probably radio us in."

Art nodded, drawing himself out of his reverie. "Right-o, Storm." He stuck his phone cord into the radio and pressed the screen. Immediately, static sounded through the speakers, and Hal and Diana were startled awake. Art motioned for silence as he spoke. "Haven, Eagle and Thorn, reporting. We've brought two supers."

"You made a right mess of things this time, Eagle," the voice from the other end said. "Fifteen normals dead."

Art grimaced, glancing back to see if Hal had heard. The boy's attention was riveted on the windows, his eyes wide as he remembered they were underwater. He hadn't heard. "Things took an unexpected turn," Art said. "Are we allowed in, Guardian?"

"Obviously," came the dry response. "Gates are opened. Proceed to security."

"Security?" Diana asked. The girl's face was taking on a greenish hue.

"Are you getting carsick again?" Art replied. He would have to have somebody clean the back. He definitely wasn't doing it.

Diana shook her head a little. "Seasick, is more like it," she said in a rather strangled voice.

"Seasick?" Art stared at her. "In a car?"

"Under the sea," Hal chimed in. Then he grimaced. "I watched that too much as a kid, sorry."

The group in the van started chuckling as a massive black structure loomed in the waters ahead of them. True to the gatekeeper's words, the doors were wide open, allowing water to stream inside the entrance. Art maneuvered the van through the doors, propelled by the specially-engineered engine. Inside the structure, it was pitch black, robbed of even the sun overhead that had illuminated the water as they'd plowed through it.

Art stopped the van and turned it off as they sat in the middle of the security room. The doors slid shut behind them, making a faint boom as it echoed through the water. The pumps in the security room activated, draining out the water that had swept in with Art's van.

Once the water had all been drained, lights flashed on. No matter how many times it happened, it still effectively made Art feel like some kind of a mole. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he saw the steel doors sliding open that would lead into Haven. Everything in the security room was steel and devoid of furnishing. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon and just the tubes on the ceiling and walls that drained the water back into the ocean.

Two security officers approached and motioned for the occupants to exit the van. Both Art and Storm got out and opened the back. Art motioned inside. "Di, lend a hand with Hal, won't you?" he requested.

"What's the matter with him?" one of the guards demanded. He was a junior guard, one who hadn't been on duty on any of Art's other visits to the security room. Jumpy type, Art noticed.

"He was shot through the stomach, that's what's the matter with him," Art snapped. "You get shot through the gut and see if you can get out of the van afterwards."

"No need to get snappish, Eagle," the older guard said. "Help him out."

Art climbed in the back and helped Hal out of the van. To his relief, Storm's salve had mostly taken effect and his injury was just about healed. Storm leaned against the van as the guards did a cursory examination. At least, Art thought it was a cursory examination, until the older guard gave a grunt. "You're getting lax in your old age, Eagle," he commented, coming out from under the van.

Art cocked his head, seeing the man holding something in his hand. "What is that?" he asked, irritated that he hadn't known something unwelcome was on his van.

Diana gave a shrill cry. "It's a bomb!" seconds before it detonated in the guard's hand.