Salena gripped the edge of her seat as the van pulled to a stop at the end of her street, trying not to hyperventilate. Beside her, Finn stood up and moved to the door, opening it wide. He glanced back at her.

"Salena?" he asked, licking his lips when she didn't turn to look at him. "Salena? Are you going home?"

At 'home', she jerked her head in his direction. "Yes, of course."

Robotically, the girl rose, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and moved to exit the van.

4am at MacDonalds.

"Yes, yes - I know," she muttered, stepping down to the sidewalk. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, turning slowly back to the van to find Finn peering at her curiously.

"Know what?" He asked, leaning against the van door.

"To meet at maccas."

He laughed lightly. "Hey, I was just gonna..." The smile died on his face. "...Say that."

Salena said nothing, instead nodding firmly and swivelling towards her house. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, threatening to break a rib, and with each step her intestines knotted further. Skirting the manicured lawn, she negotiated her way to the path, wincing as her shoes ground out a tune in the pebbles. A light flickered on in the front room of her house and she stopped still. The door tore open, groaning on it's hinges and Salena slowly raised her eyes to the figure that loomed over her.

"Salena," the man growled, stepping aside slightly. Obediently, she scurried through the front door, breath hitching in her throat as she passed him. She smelled whiskey.

As the lock clicked behind her, Salena winced, and a hand clapped her around the back of the head.

"Your late!" her step-father thundered, giving her a rough shove through to the kitchen.

Salena's mother was sitting in the kitchen bench, cigarette in one hand and a stained glass of wine in the other. Her lipstick had worn away, her eyeliner smeared, and the daytime receptionist persona had dissolved. The woman took a swig of her drink.

"The brat's home." She jerked her chin at her husband, sneering at him. "Don't you have something better to do that shove the bitch around?"

In response, the man have Salena another push, one that sent her tumbling to the ground. Her head missed the counter by millimetres, but her arm wasn't so lucky. She cried out before she could stop herself.

"Shut up," her mother snapped, swinging her high-heel-ed foot so that it caught Salena across the hit. The girl managed to muffle her yelp this time.

Her step- father, Grant, made a disgusted noise. "I don't know why I put up with the two of you: the whore and her worthless bitch."

"Hey!" wobbling slightly, his wife slipped from the counter and waved her cigarette in his face. "Unlike you, I've never had to pay for a screw, dipshit."

An expression that could only be described a possession spread across Grant's face and he wrapped a grungy arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He yanked her mouth to his and Salena watched from the ground, filled with equal parts disgust and relief.

As her husband's lips moved to her neck, Salena's mother growled at her daughter. "Piss off, girl."

Without a sound, she scrambled to her feet and shuffled around them, meeting her mother's eyes. As normal, through the alcohol-induced haze, Salena could just make out a hint of remorse, a slice of pity, and a particle of regret.

"I'm sorry," she heard, as clearly as if her mother had spoken the words out loud. But she hadn't. Instead she was crooning encouragement to her husband as he slipped a hand inside her blouse and roughly grabbed her breast.

Salena fled.

Reaching her room, she pressing the door open and darted inside, her heart finally calming as she flicked the lock behind her.

She sunk yo the floor, back pressed against her door, and clutched her hands in her lap. Her skirt ride up an inch, revealing the warped skin below. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn't try to cover it up, instead drawing the material further out of the way to show her whole thigh. Then she untucked her shirt, undoing the lowest buttons to see the matching scar. It was strange, but the skin on her stomach almost looked like it belonged.

She tore her gaze away and rose, repositioning her glasses on her nose and putting the injury, the most serious of many, out of her mind. This time, when her mother collapsed outside her door in the early hours, her sobbed apologies wouldn't wake her daughter.

"So, Finn," mr Irving began, resting his forearms on the steering wheel, "which direction am I heading to get you home?"

The boy shook his head, slamming the van door firmly and then scrambling back into his seat. "I'm sticking with you guys, Coach."

Both his teachers twisted in their seats, fixing him with surprised stares.

"No, no, Finnegan," Ms smith said, tucking a curl behind her ear, "you need to go home."

"We sure as hell don't know what's happening, mate, and you need to prepare for whatever tomorrow brings." Anthony raised a brow. "At home."

Finn ignored them, strapping his seat belt across his waist before looking up. "I've said my goodbyes, told my family I love them: either tomorrow I go home where I get yelled at, or I don't. Everything else is taken care of."

"Finn..."

"Look," he cut their protests off with a gesture, offering them a bland smile. "I get that you guys have no idea what's going on either. I also understand that you don't want to endanger me or whatever. But going home isn't an option for me right now." He smirked. "And I promise I won't get in the way."

Mr Irving assessed the teenager sitting in front of him: bruised, battered, filthy, exhausted and determined. He nodded and turned back to face the road.

"So Hazmat," his colleague asked, her gaze shifting to the row behind Finn, "ready to answer some more questions?"

The man snorted, shifting his leg on the seat. "I do love an inquisition."

"Then this'll be right down your alley."

Anthony flicked the indictor, gently driving off the asphalt and onto the strip of dirt to the side of the road. Finn bounced in his seat as they rolled to a halt, and he grunted. Pressing his face to the window, he quickly scanned the road, practically deserted at this hour. After dropping off Selena, Coach had negotiated them onto a backroad that looped around the outskirts of town before rejoining the highway and passing right through. As such, the town was hidden by the treeline, and the only light was cast by a solitary street light and the headlights of the occasional passing car. When no black SUV's made an appearance, the teenager swivelled away from the window and offered the adults a small grin.

"No suits."

Gripping the knee of his injured leg, Hazmat shifted to the isle chair and sunk down, stretching the limb down the centre of the bus. Prepared for his interrogation, he lifted his gaze and met the other man's, blinking in surprise when the teacher dropped his eyes.

"What? Nothing to say?" Haz demanded, shifting his attention to Ms Smith "Not even you, sweetheart?"

"It's all a lot to take in, Hazmat," Mr Irving snapped, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. "This is the first moment we've had to process everything, so excuse us if we're a bit muddled."

Returning the glare, he smirked. "Please, take your time."

Behind the centre console, Ms Smith laid a placating hand on the other man's thigh, keeping her palm pressed against his jeans until the tension left his muscle.

Finn raised his hand. "I have a question."

"Shoot, kid," Hazmat said, lolling his head to the side. His grin widened. "Excuse the pun."

He ignored him. "Let's just say that I believe everything you and Maggie have told us today and assume that it's the only explanation for whatever the hell happened this afternoon." He raised his chin. "If I put aside all my doubts about who the hell you are and why you're involved in this..."

"Hey - I'm hurt," he yelped, feigning agony as he clutched a hand above his heart.

"Maggie didn't trust you, so why should I?"

"And why should you trust pesky Pesky?"

With no answer, Finn licked his lips and moved on. "If I ignore all of that, then I only have one question for you: why did you happen to appear at our school at the same very moment that the suits did?"

Hazmat's smile fell and he ran a hand across his face. "That," he murmured roughly, "Is a long story."

"What a surprise," Mr Irving muttered, drumming his fingers along the window seat.

"Look," the youth ground out, squinting in annoyance. "We..."

Ms Smith coughed. "'We'? Who on earth is 'We'?"

"'We' is...Think of us like sweatpants," Haz said, nodding his head decisively at his own comment. The others just looked at him in confusion.

"I thought you were Hazmat?"

"I am..."

"Then why are you sweatpants..."

"Look," he interrupted, "Perhaps analogies aren't the best method at this time of night, so let me break it down for you. 'We' is the opposite of the suits."

Finn nodded slowly. "So what you're saying is that they are proficient, business-like, impressive James-Bond-types and you are worn, lazy, comfort-food-to-dumped-women-types?"

"No!" Haz groaned, lips twitching in agitation. He took a deep, soothing breath and when he let it out he looked all three evenly and calmly in the eye. "All I meant was that 'we' is not like the suits - the people, not the attire. 'We' is good."

"Are," Ms Smith corrected, wincing at herself. "Sorry, english techer. It's habit."

He cast her a simpering smile and rolled his eyes. All apology fled her face and she narrowed her eyes at the younger man. "I still don't understand who 'we' are?"

"Please; identity crises and religious questions for another time."

Resisitng the strong urge to leap from his seat and slap Haz, Mr Irving swallowed his anger. "Just answer the damn question."

"Fine. In this context, 'we' generally refers to my family," he cocked his head to the side and squinted, "And a few extras 'we' have picked up along the way."

"And why does your family care about us?" Finn demanded.

"Think of us like the incredibles," Haz said, happily grinning from ear to ear.

"You wear a lot of lycra?"

He narrowed his eyes at the boy, all traces of humour falling from his features. "Your jokes aren't funny or timely, kid, and if you don't cut it out I'll cut you."

Finn threw back his head and laughed, startling big teachers who had already opened their mouths to leap to his defence. "You really think threats work with me, Haz?" He asked gesturing to his face. His eye had finally stopped swelling, and the tear in his lip had crusted over. "I don't know if you can tell, but my self-preservation, my fight or flight instinct, ain't exactly top notch." He leaned forward in his seat, craning his next so his face blocked out Haz's view of the teachers. He smiled and spoke softly. "You wanna 'cut' me? Have at it! Or should I say hack?"

There was a pause, with neither of them daring to speak first. Ms smith and mr Irving exchanged a look, each shrugging slightly.

"You're either suicidal or ballsy, kid," Haz said finally, sinking down into his seat with something akin to admiration on his face. "Either way, your sense of humour is still shite."

"Why is your family interested in six experimental teenagers?"

Haz swallowed, giving his chin a scratch. "At times, my family works for the country, doing various odds and ends. This happens to be one of those times." He paused, as if hoping that two vague sentences would satisfy them, but, audience unsatiated, he huffed and continued. "You guys weren't suppose to happen. if it gets out who, or more to the point what, you guys are, heads are going to roll. Important heads. With big pockets. So, 'we' were hired to track you all down with some serious security clauses and ensure that none of this ever can to light."

Finn coughed. "Well, you screwed that up, didn't you?"

"'We' made no error," Haz snapped back, tilting in his seat to glare at the boy. "About two weeks ago, we asked for confirmation on your identities, and discovered we weren't the only ones looking. We dived through some pretty tiny loopholes and stretched some connections and then on the day we were going to get in to see the guy, the bastard winds up dead."

"How inconsiderate of him," ms smith whispered, earning a chuckle from Anthony.

Without acknowledging her comment, Haz pulled out his phone sand began scrolling across the screen, talking as he searched. "So then I drew the short straw and wound up here, trying to get to you before the other guys. Apparently the other guys had the sane idea."

"I still don't understand how you found us then, if the scientist got axed before you got confirmation."

"With great skill and expertise, anyone can be located anywhere on the planet if you know what you're looking for."

"So somebody else handled that for you?' Me Irving asked, expression blank until Haz flipped him the bird. Then, he broke out into a grin.

Hiding her own smile with her hand, Ms Smith coughed delicately and looked at Haz. "So what was your plan once you found the children? prior to the suits interrupting everything, of course."

"Take them back to 'we'."

Anthony let his smile fade and he leant forward. "And now that the suits have found them."

Haz smirked. "Take them back to 'we'."