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Description
Getting into the house was easy enough. Breaking and entering just wasn't a challenge anymore, Jac thought sadly, as she passed through the door and into a dark foyer. She took a brief look around at the coat pegs and shoe rack. Everything seemed normal enough, though the house was eerily still. She padded softly through the sleeping house to an open plan lounge and study space. No one was about, and she wasn't exactly relishing in the task of going to wake up this kid.

The small desk light in the study was on, lighting up the papers on the desk. They were uninteresting - instruction manuals for model train sets. Beside them lay a red steam engine, which was as big as her palm. She examined it closely. Hand painted, she realised.

Her father had liked model aeroplanes. She remembered, once when she was very young, she found him working on one in his own study, assembling the tiny pieces. Her brother, Brendan, had been much too young to help, but her father had let her put a few of them in place. "You need a very delicate hand, Jacqueline," she recalled him saying. If you don't take the time to do it right and carefully, it will fall apart later." He'd rarely had time to do them with all his work, but each one he'd made had been a triumph - perfectly made, exquisite paintwork, mounted onto a stand. When he had left he with her uncle, she'd cut school one day, come home and smashed every one of them.

"Stop," a shaky voice called out, snapping her out of her reverie, making her stand still with the train in her hand. In her daydreaming, she hadn't heard them approach.

"Don't move. Now, turn around slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Jac did as she was told, lifting her hands carefully in a surrender to face the person behind her. It was hard to tell what he looked like in the dim light. He stood away from the beam of the desk light, which only cast shadows across him anyway. He seemed to be just a little bit taller than her, and gangly - all arms and legs, swamped by his large t-shirt and slacks. He had a shotgun pointed at her, but the wobble of the barrel betrayed his nerves.

"Easy kid," she started to say calmly.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" he demanded. His voice was reedy, slightly high. She didn't know if that was because he was anxious or that was how he normally sounded.

"My name's Jac," she told him.

"What are you doing here? Are you a thief?"

"No," she said, but his eyes flickered up to the train which was still in her hand. She slowly lowered her arm to put it down. "I was just being nosy. Sorry."

"That was my Dad's model," he said. She didn't miss the past tense.

"I was just looking," she replied, hands still held at surrender, even though it wouldn't matter a damn if he fired the thing. She didn't want him to know that just yet though. Still, she kept phased in case his finger twitched on the trigger.

"Unless you have a good reason for being in my house, I suggest you get the hell out of here," he commanded. The gun came a little higher, trained on her chest.

She paused, and wondered how Izzy, or Veda, or anybody else might tackle this situation. The kid was obviously jumpy - for what reason, she didn't know - and probably wasn't going to take kindly to the usual Jac Sorensen way of dealing out information. And yet, he sort of looked to Jac as if he might need a bit of plain talking. She took a deep breath.

"What's your name?"

He halted, surprised, but the gun didn't move. "Ethan."

"Right. Ethan. I...get that you're pretty nervous right now - I mean, strange woman in your house in the dead of night," she said with a wry smile, trying to make light of the situation. "But I know that there are other reasons you're scared. I know...that you're...different to ordinary people."

His hands tightened on the gun and Ethan took a step back.

Jac raised her arms again. Ok, softer approach necessary for the overly sensitive Muse. "No, no. I'm not here to hurt you, or lock you away. Just let me...tell you a story, ok? And you tell me if it sounds familiar."

Ethan said nothing, but nodded once.

"You were out one night," Jac started, "probably with friends or coming back from a party, and there was this storm - like nothing you'd ever seen before. Relentless rain, that came on so suddenly and finished so abruptly it couldn't have been natural. But you don't think that at the time. Whatever you're doing is more important and you brave this wierd storm and get home to your bed to forget it ever happened. Sound familiar yet?"

Ethan just blinked at her, but she noted that the gun had lowered just a fraction.

"For a week or so everything was normal. But one day, you woke up and the air tasted different, and you knew in your bones that something had changed. You didn't know what it was, whether something good or bad was going to happen, but that day was the day your life altered forever. And it did - something happened. Something inexplainable, something wonderful, something terrible. All those things at the same time. You have this...power. And you're amazed and you're horrified at what's happened. You want to be normal again, and yet you feel...special."

"So at first, maybe you shy away from your new powers - you're afraid of them. Of what they can do. But these powers are funny things. They're not like a language that you learn as a kid and then when you grow up, you can only remember how ask where the nearest toilet is," Jac explained dryly, smiling at him a little. "They're part of you. So they build up. You can't control them all the time. Maybe it takes too much energy to hide it. Maybe you lash out in anger and the strange terrible thing happens again. You don't mean it to. But it does. So you become frightened, and try not to draw attention to yourself. But there are people watching - some are looking out for you, some aren't - and one night, a strange woman turns up in your house telling you your story, like she's heard it a hundred times before. And so you put down your gun, and you listen to her - because for the first time in weeks, somebody has the answers. So shooting them might not be a wise move."

Ethan looked at the gun, and slowly, and very sheepishly lowered it from where it was pointed, until it hung by his side.

"I thought..." he started to say, very quietly, "I thought I was alone."

"Everyone did. But there are hundreds of people like you across this city, who have been through the same thing," Jac told him. "They're called Rhea's."

"Hundreds? And they all have powers?"

She nodded.

"And you came here to take me away from here?"

"Not exactly," she admitted. "You're in danger though. Remember what I said about people watching out for you? Well, the people I work for are the good guys. They want the best for you, really. It's kind of...sickening. Like working for the Justice League."

He smiled weakly. "You're not a superhero then?"

She shot him an indignant look. "Please. Do I look like a superhero?"

His eyes scanned her in a darty perusal. "No costume."

"I didn't have time to change," she drawled.

"So...if you work for the good guys...who are the bad guys?" Ethan asked.

"Right now? G.R.I.D - a government unit, who are coming to take you in."

"What will they do?" He looked jumpy again. "Take my powers?"

"I don't know, but no one who ever got caught be G.R.I.D. got out again. But calm down - that's why I'm here. They're going to arrive within the next hour or so, and my team wants to have you as far away from here as possible."

"How do I know any of this is true? You could be working for G.R.I.D."

Jac raised an eyebrow, but understood his questioning. It was commendable that he was savvy enough to ask these questions, just like she would if someone approached her like this. "Here," she said, reaching into her jacket and unfolding some papers, "these are printouts of the file G.R.I.D has on you. A friend of mine hacked into their system." He took them carefully and flipped through the paper.

"Level four?" He said questioningly, frowning at the words.

"It means they think you're dangerous." She paused, wondering if she should ask. "Any idea why they're not keen on physical contact with you?"

He looked up and cast her a cursory glance before turn his attention back to the paper. "When people touch me, I can read their minds."

Jac faltered, but managed to hide her concern. She could imagine that G.R.I.D didn't want a Rhea who could read minds through contact grabbing hold of one of their men and gaining a stackload of government secrets. It could certainly be considered dangerous.

But her intuition prickled. She wasn't sure a power like that warranted a level four classification. Was that an oversight on G.R.I.D's part? Or was Ethan lying to her?

She could tell when people lied most of the time - a trick she'd picked up over the years from playing poker and working with underlords and drug dealers. Everyone had tells. And suddenly, the conversation of the last few minutes came back to her with fresh eyes. Ethan didn't ask enough of the right questions. New Rhea's always asked about the storm, but he didn't - as if he already knew. His wonderment at the knowledge of other Rhea's seemed too eager now, as if he was excited about the quantity rather than the fact he wasn't alone.

Or maybe she was just reading too much into it. After all, nobody reacted the same way. When Veda had approached her, she hadn't care a damn bit about the information, not at first. Maybe she was just too untrusting after all these years.

But still the feeling didn't go away.

"We just need to get out here as soon as possible," Jac told him mustering a smile despite the festering doubts emerging. "If you want to."

"Where will you take me?"

"Back to my team's HQ."

"Are there lots of people...like me...there?"

There it was again. Was he just glad not to be alone? She couldn't judge everyone who wished for human company just because she didn't. But still she watched his reaction closely.

"Sure. If they haven't gone home," she said lightly. He nodded thoughtfully, and his fingers flexed by his side.

She took that as her cue. "I guess you've been feeling pretty lonely huh? It's not as if any of this has been publicised."

"You can't imagine," he told her. "I thought I was going crazy. I didn't even know there were, you know, others that had powers like me."

"Well, Thea - my team - is by far the biggest group. You'll be in good company."

His fingers flexed again and she bristled. It wouldn't seem obvious unless she were looking for it - the subconcious movement. "And you'll all keep me safe?"

She paused before she nodded. "We'll do our best."

Ethan ran his spare hand through his short hair and let out an excited breath. "Well, let me grab some things ok? Just stay here, I'll be two minutes."

He darted off before she could reply, and through the ceiling she heard his heavy footfall as moved about. Ignoring what he said to stay put, she strolled through to the lounge, switched a light on so she could get a better look of the house. She had an uneasy feeling, like a seed wriggling about in her stomach, and the more she thought, the more it grew. Jac looked around her, not sure exactly what she was searching for - something to placate her concerns, or something to confirm them. Either way, she didn't have much time.

The lounge was fairly non-descript; beige walls, brown leather couches, a flat screen television surrounded by many movies and cd's. Beside that, it was ordinary - exactly what she expected to find in a house like this. Her eyes fell on the family portraits dotted around; a smiling woman with auburn hair twisted into a clasp, a taller man smiling widely and a younger boy - Ethan. They held his shoulders tightly, lovingly, in the picture. She saw his face properly for the first time, not shrouded in the shadows. His features were delicate, and he was just as lanky as he had been in the study. Dirty blonde hair lay flat on his head, a little shorter than it was now.

They looked, in all the pictures, like a happy family. Family BBQ, Christmas portrait with the novelty jumpers, holiday snapshots. She felt a pang of familiarity but quickly dismissed it. She wondered absently where his parents were - the noise must have disturbed them. Perhaps they were away.

Her anxiety made her want to check, to be certain and she eyed the stairs leading to the first floor with determination. Ethan was still moving about in what she figured was his room, so she mounted the first step, treading very lightly. She'd always been gifted with stealth.

You could always count well made houses like these not to have an creaks in the stairs that gave you away. Jac turned to glance at the door Ethan was behind when she reached the top, seeing that it was only open a crack and he was too busy cramming things into a bag. The bathroom door was open, and completely dark except for the patch of moonlight coming through the window, illuminating the blue floor tiles. The only other door was closed - the master bedroom. She edged towards it silently and passed through the door.

She was met with the most perculiar smell - acrid but in a metallic way - and she couldn't place it at all. Like most rooms in the house, it was pitch black with the blinds drawn so she flicked on the small bedside lamp. She bit back a gasp at what it revealed.

More than one body, laying at odd angles with their limbs contorted and bent, were arranged across the enormous bed. She noticed all their arms seemed to be stretched out in some way as if they were reaching for something. But that wasn't the worst of it - their skin was shrunken against the bones so they looked like mummified skeletons, with their last expressions of terror and horror preserved perfectly on their faces. It looked...burnt...and when she gingerly ran a finger across part of the skin she found it to be crispy, like a dying leafy. Like the moisture had completely been sucked out of it. Any hair they'd had to speak of was now a few thin strands tufting from the scalp.

A glint of gold caught her eye on the hand of one of the bodies - wedding band, and the one beside it wore it too. Ethan's parents, she thought, and though she had no real proof, she just knew that these were the same smiling man and auburn haired woman from the photos. How different they looked in death.

And she knew in that instant that the boy across the hall had done this. That he was packing his bag, knowing his parents were gnarled corpses two doors away. The thought sent a cold wave through her and the whole room seemed darker. She needed to get out of here and get back-up, she suddenly thought. Screw back-up, let G.R.I.D have him.

It was only at that moment that she realised Ethan's noise had stopped, and she couldn't hear him. Jac kept very still, calculating quickly how she could out of this house, but like a shriek in the silence, her phone began to blast out a ringtone. Izzy, she realised, recognising the theme song she'd set for her friend. She scrambled for it to turn it off but she knew the damage was done.

If she got out of this, she was going to kill that girl for the worst timing ever.

The door opened a second later and Ethan entered - no gun this time, just a blank, cold expression. The nerves were all gone; she knew now that at least in part they'd been part of the act.

"I thought I told you to stay where you were," he said in a low voice.

"I've never been very good at doing what I was told," she retorted flatly.

"Why couldn't you just stay downstairs? It was all going to work out beautifully," he said with a discontented sigh.

"You mean, I was going to take you to my team and you were going to turn them all into human beef-jerky?" She waved absently at the bodies on the bed. "I don't think so."

"That was the plan. But now I guess I'll just have to kill you. I mean, I was going to anyway - you've just brought it forward in my to-do-list."

Jac quirked an eyebrow. "And what will my team say when I don't turn up?"

Ethan shrugged. "Well I presume they'll think G.R.I.D got you. After all, no one that gets caught by G.R.I.D ever comes out." He repeated her early words back to her in a sing-song way.

"Well, aren't you just the little genius," Jac cooed with a smirk. "Really. You've thought it all through. Except for the part where Thea figure out you're a liar and a murderer."

"Yeah," he said wistfully, "but by then it'll be too late for them."

"Sure. But there's a couple flaws in your plan - for a start, you're not coming anywhere with me with your filthy little hands," she snapped.

He let out a short laugh. "I'd say you don't really have a choice. You seem to be trapped."

Jac smirked. There was no such thing to her anymore.

"And besides that, they're not filthy," he went on, turning his palms over and examining his hands almost lovingly. "They're purifying. Every time I take a life I get stronger, healthier."

"I'd hate to have seen you before you killed a bunch of people then," she remarked dryly, scanning his skinny frame obviously.

"It's not as obvious as that. It's like...having an energy drink when you're feeling tired."

"An energy drink? These were your parents," she spat.

"They were, yes. Not much to them now. It was an accident at first. Like you said in your story, I wasn't sure what it was. It just happened. My father and I were fighting and I touched his hand. I couldn't let go, even though my mom was screaming." He paused at looked down at was left of his mother. "Then I couldn't let her live."

"Of course not," Jac replied sarcastically noting how blase he was as he talked about killing the people that brought him into this world. No remorse. No conflict. "Once you've killed one person, why not carry on?"

"You have no comprehension what it's like," he told her with an edge to his voice. "I tried to stop. I was terrified. But the surge...I'd never felt so well in all my life. I couldn't control it, and then I sort of found I didn't want to."

"So everyone that came to the door - milkman, mailman - what? You just invited them in and sucked the lifeforce out of them? How cute."

"Don't be stupid. You think your team is the only people that came after me?" Ethan laughed again but it was icy, and it shot straight through her.

"These are...Rheas?"

"They were," he said with a sickly grin spreading across his face. "But most of them were from Cronus - they didn't care much about 'helping me' like your team. I had to bide my time until a Thea came along because I knew you'd want to take me back to your HQ. Make me part of the team."

Jac frowned. "Why is that so important?"

"Absorbing a Rhea's life force isn't like absorbing an ordinary person's. The Black Rain and the powers Rhea's have...it's so much more potent. Think of it like...the finest brand of something you can by, as opposed to supermarket brand. And it makes me much stronger, much stronger."

It made sense now - his curiosity about the numbers, his lack of curiosity when it came to details. He'd got to ask all the questions before, with countless others, now all dead. She didn't want to know what he'd been doing in the Black Rain to get this kind of monstrous gift. She felt sick to her stomach. Still, she kept her cool.

"Your eagerness gave you away," she said with a smug grin.

"It did?" He sighed with a shrug. "I'll remember that for next time."

"And what about G.R.I.D?" Jac pointed out. "They'll be here later."

"And I'll be long gone. It doesn't take long to kill someone this way."

"You have to catch me first."

Ethan smirked. "You know, I think you're stalling. But this is nice - the others weren't so spunky. For all their villany, or bravado, everyone ended up begging in the end. I wonder if you will."

"I've never begged anyone for anything," Jac grinned. "And I'm not about to start."

"You're still stalling though. Which means you're afraid."

"It means I'm buying time. I have nothing to be afraid of." As she said the words, the reinforced her steely resolve. "You're not gonna touch me."

Ethan chuckled darkly, but seeing her expression his amusement wavered. "What exactly can you do?" he asked.

She said nothing.

"It doesn't matter anyway," he said, closing the door behind him. "It doesn't taste any different. Power is power."

He stepped towards her, but every muscle is Jac's body was ready, poised to spring - and she did just that. When he was close enough to lunge at her, she jumped straight through him and ran through the door.

She didn't have time to looked back at the sound of Ethan's sharp, delighted laugh, or when the door swung open behind her. Something was desperately wrong. A phase never made her feel this dizzy. Disorientated, her vision blurred, she made her way as fast as she could down the stairs. But it didn't feel right; her feet weren't quite connecting with the floor and then the next step would, as if she were flying but tripping at same time. She was part-phased she realised, like she was glitching in and out.

And just as that thought came to her, she tripped, tumbling down the last part of the stairs and landing in a heap, which she knew she had to get up from quickly. She staggered towards the couch. Jac looked down at her hands, watching them almost flicker as her molecules went crazy.

Passing through him had done it, she thought, because strangely he had felt thick as she did so, like he had stuck to her. She tried to fathom the science of it but it wasn't the time. Julian would know.

If she ever got to see Julian again.

She spun around to see Ethan already at the foot of the stairs, obviously enjoying the chase. She stepped back, through the couch, noticing that her equilibrium was returning. She felt stable for the moment.

"Very good. This will be a lot more stimulating," Ethan said to her. "In the end there was nothing any of the others could do. But you...I literally cannot touch you. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. Get a little dizzy back there?"

Jac stiffened and smirked, but it felt weak. "My shoe lace was untied."

"Ready for another go?"

He didn't give her time to answer - he just went for her - but she was ready this time. It became a dance - all she could do was keep phased to avoid his touch and move where he could not and so they went through a waltz of her ducking through objects, diving past him, trying to pass through him again. She did, once or twice, but it wasn't as bad as a full-phase, and when he was least expecting she made her fist solid and punched him in the gut.

She was by no means a she-Hulk, but she packed a fair punch. She expected a skinny runt like Ethan to double over but - even though it caught him by surprise - it seemed to have little effect. She tried again a minute later, even chancing phasing through him so she could behind him fast enough to kick him hard in the back, but all he did was step forward a little, and she was weakened.

"My turn now," he said animatedly before a sharp pain in her gut sent her hurtling backwards against the television. She hadn't even seen his fist move, and didn't have time to think, let alone phase as the impact sent her mind reeling. Jac slammed into the thing hard and dropped like a bag of potatoes. She slumped on the floor, trying to get up, but found she couldn't. Phasing was an impossible effort too, and her vision grew darker. Something wet and warm trickled down the side of her face, and recognised the smell of blood. And in her confusion one clear thought darted through like lightning.

She was going to die.

She had to laugh, slightly out of delirium she thought, that she was about to die on a hero's errand, working for a team of superheroes. Not at the hands of a drug dealer, or someone she'd been feeding false information to. Jac Sorensen was going to die on a mission Veda had sent her on.

Of all the luck.

Ethan stood far away but she knew he'd come over before long, and she was too tired to rise. Everything felt heavy, stiff.

"See what I mean about being stronger?" He crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah. You're a real hunk," she croaked out, trying at least to sit up to meet her death.

He looked at the clock. "It was fun, but I've really got to make a move."

Jac was grateful that her mind was slipping out of conciousness as he walked towards her, that she wouldn't be awake. She wasn't afraid to die, but the didn't mean watching, being mentally present would be pleasant. Her eyes grew heavier, and she shut them for the last time, welcoming the black, waiting for the finality to come. She was sure, in one of her last moments, there was a blinding flash of light, and then nothing again.

She didn't know what to expect from the afterlife, but it was noisier than she imagined. Voices, shouting, grunting, pleading. And then banging, something crackling wildly. More light behind her eyelids. She thought she heard Julian in a moment of madness but she thought that might be wishful thinking. It wasn't fair that in death, the dreams went on. She wanted peace.

Half images of people round her, fighting, filled the black, and were accentuated by flashes of blue, highlighting the features of the man across from her. A girl was thrown across the room to land somewhere near her.

Izzy, she thought with a groan. Someone repeating the word made her more alert.

"Izzy!"

Izzy needed her, Jac thought. But she was beyond being able to help. She was dead, wasn't she?

The pain felt too real to be an abstract dream and Jac tried blinking a few times to make the image before her stopping moving so much. The man opposite her was stepping away but his eyes met hers with startling clarity - the one fixed thing in a picture that was swimming, doubling.

Julian.

She stirred for the first time, testing her limbs.

"Stay right where you are, Izzy," Julian ordered.

"Are you crazy?" she yelled. "Go away! He's getting up. I need to hit him again."

"Izzy, stay right there. Don't move."

The conversation switched between sharp and loud, and muffled, like she was underwater. Julian looked back at her pointedly.

A moment later, two things happened; the girl beside her - Izzy, she now realised - stood up, hands ready and tensed to fight. Then, her view of Julian was obscured by another figure standing in front of him, but she already knew enough of what Julian had been trying to convey to her with his eyes.

He wasn't luring Ethan away, he was removing himself from the equation. Shortly Ethan wouldn't be powerless...but neither would she or Izzy. And she realised that at that moment, it wasn't Izzy that Julian wanted to act.

Surprisingly, she found she was feeling pretty strong for a dead person, minus the blinding pain in the general area of...well, everywhere, and she managed to get unsteadily to her feet, grappling at the shelves around the television for support. When she was upright, she nodded once to Julian to let him know she was ready.

"Julian. Move!" Izzy cried in front of her. Ethan had gotten up and was advancing slowly towards the girl. He barely noticed Jac behind her.

"Hold on."

"Please," Izzy begged. "Back away!"

Julian waited for the moment when Ethan was practically upon them, before she felt the pressing aura of his power lift. She never knew it was there, until it was gone.

"Jac, now!"

She grabbed Izzy, wrapping her arms around her and with all the strength she had, she pulled them both back through the wall, through the television and directly out into the cool of outside, Julian and Ethan disappearing as they fell back into a crumpled heap and crsuhed some poor flowers.

The next few minutes were as much of a dream as the rest. Izzy, after mumbling some unintelligable, collapsed and fell unconcious - a side effect of exhaustion and phasing, full body, for the first time. Jac stepped back through the wall just in time to see Julian smack Ethan hard in the mouth, the once threatening Rhea just a weedy little kid, once his powers were subdued by Julian's.

He fell somewhere near Jac and scrambled to his feet. His eyes were wild and panicked. "What have you done to me?" he screeched at her, and in an desperate attempt to win, grabbed her by the wrists.

She felt nothing. No sudden rush of her life being dragged out of her. No blinding pain. No fear.

She smirked at him, though it hurt her face a little.

"We've beaten you," she said in a low, cold voice.

And just because she could, she brought her knee up and slammed it hard into his groin.

Description
Getting into the house was easy enough. Breaking and entering just wasn't a challenge anymore, Jac thought sadly, as she passed through the door and into a dark foyer. She took a brief look around at the coat pegs and shoe rack. Everything seemed normal enough, though the house was eerily still. She padded softly through the sleeping house to an open plan lounge and study space. No one was about, and she wasn't exactly relishing in the task of going to wake up this kid.

The small desk light in the study was on, lighting up the papers on the desk. They were uninteresting - instruction manuals for model train sets. Beside them lay a red steam engine, which was as big as her palm. She examined it closely. Hand painted, she realised.

Her father had liked model aeroplanes. She remembered, once when she was very young, she found him working on one in his own study, assembling the tiny pieces. Her brother, Brendan, had been much too young to help, but her father had let her put a few of them in place. "You need a very delicate hand, Jacqueline," she recalled him saying. If you don't take the time to do it right and carefully, it will fall apart later." He'd rarely had time to do them with all his work, but each one he'd made had been a triumph - perfectly made, exquisite paintwork, mounted onto a stand. When he had left he with her uncle, she'd cut school one day, come home and smashed every one of them.

"Stop," a shaky voice called out, snapping her out of her reverie, making her stand still with the train in her hand. In her daydreaming, she hadn't heard them approach.

"Don't move. Now, turn around slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Jac did as she was told, lifting her hands carefully in a surrender to face the person behind her. It was hard to tell what he looked like in the dim light. He stood away from the beam of the desk light, which only cast shadows across him anyway. He seemed to be just a little bit taller than her, and gangly - all arms and legs, swamped by his large t-shirt and slacks. He had a shotgun pointed at her, but the wobble of the barrel betrayed his nerves.

"Easy kid," she started to say calmly.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" he demanded. His voice was reedy, slightly high. She didn't know if that was because he was anxious or that was how he normally sounded.

"My name's Jac," she told him.

"What are you doing here? Are you a thief?"

"No," she said, but his eyes flickered up to the train which was still in her hand. She slowly lowered her arm to put it down. "I was just being nosy. Sorry."

"That was my Dad's model," he said. She didn't miss the past tense.

"I was just looking," she replied, hands still held at surrender, even though it wouldn't matter a damn if he fired the thing. She didn't want him to know that just yet though. Still, she kept phased in case his finger twitched on the trigger.

"Unless you have a good reason for being in my house, I suggest you get the hell out of here," he commanded. The gun came a little higher, trained on her chest.

She paused, and wondered how Izzy, or Veda, or anybody else might tackle this situation. The kid was obviously jumpy - for what reason, she didn't know - and probably wasn't going to take kindly to the usual Jac Sorensen way of dealing out information. And yet, he sort of looked to Jac as if he might need a bit of plain talking. She took a deep breath.

"What's your name?"

He halted, surprised, but the gun didn't move. "Ethan."

"Right. Ethan. I...get that you're pretty nervous right now - I mean, strange woman in your house in the dead of night," she said with a wry smile, trying to make light of the situation. "But I know that there are other reasons you're scared. I know...that you're...different to ordinary people."

His hands tightened on the gun and Ethan took a step back.

Jac raised her arms again. Ok, softer approach necessary for the overly sensitive Muse. "No, no. I'm not here to hurt you, or lock you away. Just let me...tell you a story, ok? And you tell me if it sounds familiar."

Ethan said nothing, but nodded once.

"You were out one night," Jac started, "probably with friends or coming back from a party, and there was this storm - like nothing you'd ever seen before. Relentless rain, that came on so suddenly and finished so abruptly it couldn't have been natural. But you don't think that at the time. Whatever you're doing is more important and you brave this wierd storm and get home to your bed to forget it ever happened. Sound familiar yet?"

Ethan just blinked at her, but she noted that the gun had lowered just a fraction.

"For a week or so everything was normal. But one day, you woke up and the air tasted different, and you knew in your bones that something had changed. You didn't know what it was, whether something good or bad was going to happen, but that day was the day your life altered forever. And it did - something happened. Something inexplainable, something wonderful, something terrible. All those things at the same time. You have this...power. And you're amazed and you're horrified at what's happened. You want to be normal again, and yet you feel...special."

"So at first, maybe you shy away from your new powers - you're afraid of them. Of what they can do. But these powers are funny things. They're not like a language that you learn as a kid and then when you grow up, you can only remember how ask where the nearest toilet is," Jac explained dryly, smiling at him a little. "They're part of you. So they build up. You can't control them all the time. Maybe it takes too much energy to hide it. Maybe you lash out in anger and the strange terrible thing happens again. You don't mean it to. But it does. So you become frightened, and try not to draw attention to yourself. But there are people watching - some are looking out for you, some aren't - and one night, a strange woman turns up in your house telling you your story, like she's heard it a hundred times before. And so you put down your gun, and you listen to her - because for the first time in weeks, somebody has the answers. So shooting them might not be a wise move."

Ethan looked at the gun, and slowly, and very sheepishly lowered it from where it was pointed, until it hung by his side.

"I thought..." he started to say, very quietly, "I thought I was alone."

"Everyone did. But there are hundreds of people like you across this city, who have been through the same thing," Jac told him. "They're called Rhea's."

"Hundreds? And they all have powers?"

She nodded.

"And you came here to take me away from here?"

"Not exactly," she admitted. "You're in danger though. Remember what I said about people watching out for you? Well, the people I work for are the good guys. They want the best for you, really. It's kind of...sickening. Like working for the Justice League."

He smiled weakly. "You're not a superhero then?"

She shot him an indignant look. "Please. Do I look like a superhero?"

His eyes scanned her in a darty perusal. "No costume."

"I didn't have time to change," she drawled.

"So...if you work for the good guys...who are the bad guys?" Ethan asked.

"Right now? G.R.I.D - a government unit, who are coming to take you in."

"What will they do?" He looked jumpy again. "Take my powers?"

"I don't know, but no one who ever got caught be G.R.I.D. got out again. But calm down - that's why I'm here. They're going to arrive within the next hour or so, and my team wants to have you as far away from here as possible."

"How do I know any of this is true? You could be working for G.R.I.D."

Jac raised an eyebrow, but understood his questioning. It was commendable that he was savvy enough to ask these questions, just like she would if someone approached her like this. "Here," she said, reaching into her jacket and unfolding some papers, "these are printouts of the file G.R.I.D has on you. A friend of mine hacked into their system." He took them carefully and flipped through the paper.

"Level four?" He said questioningly, frowning at the words.

"It means they think you're dangerous." She paused, wondering if she should ask. "Any idea why they're not keen on physical contact with you?"

He looked up and cast her a cursory glance before turn his attention back to the paper. "When people touch me, I can read their minds."

Jac faltered, but managed to hide her concern. She could imagine that G.R.I.D didn't want a Rhea who could read minds through contact grabbing hold of one of their men and gaining a stackload of government secrets. It could certainly be considered dangerous.

But her intuition prickled. She wasn't sure a power like that warranted a level four classification. Was that an oversight on G.R.I.D's part? Or was Ethan lying to her?

She could tell when people lied most of the time - a trick she'd picked up over the years from playing poker and working with underlords and drug dealers. Everyone had tells. And suddenly, the conversation of the last few minutes came back to her with fresh eyes. Ethan didn't ask enough of the right questions. New Rhea's always asked about the storm, but he didn't - as if he already knew. His wonderment at the knowledge of other Rhea's seemed too eager now, as if he was excited about the quantity rather than the fact he wasn't alone.

Or maybe she was just reading too much into it. After all, nobody reacted the same way. When Veda had approached her, she hadn't care a damn bit about the information, not at first. Maybe she was just too untrusting after all these years.

But still the feeling didn't go away.

"We just need to get out here as soon as possible," Jac told him mustering a smile despite the festering doubts emerging. "If you want to."

"Where will you take me?"

"Back to my team's HQ."

"Are there lots of people...like me...there?"

There it was again. Was he just glad not to be alone? She couldn't judge everyone who wished for human company just because she didn't. But still she watched his reaction closely.

"Sure. If they haven't gone home," she said lightly. He nodded thoughtfully, and his fingers flexed by his side.

She took that as her cue. "I guess you've been feeling pretty lonely huh? It's not as if any of this has been publicised."

"You can't imagine," he told her. "I thought I was going crazy. I didn't even know there were, you know, others that had powers like me."

"Well, Thea - my team - is by far the biggest group. You'll be in good company."

His fingers flexed again and she bristled. It wouldn't seem obvious unless she were looking for it - the subconcious movement. "And you'll all keep me safe?"

She paused before she nodded. "We'll do our best."

Ethan ran his spare hand through his short hair and let out an excited breath. "Well, let me grab some things ok? Just stay here, I'll be two minutes."

He darted off before she could reply, and through the ceiling she heard his heavy footfall as moved about. Ignoring what he said to stay put, she strolled through to the lounge, switched a light on so she could get a better look of the house. She had an uneasy feeling, like a seed wriggling about in her stomach, and the more she thought, the more it grew. Jac looked around her, not sure exactly what she was searching for - something to placate her concerns, or something to confirm them. Either way, she didn't have much time.

The lounge was fairly non-descript; beige walls, brown leather couches, a flat screen television surrounded by many movies and cd's. Beside that, it was ordinary - exactly what she expected to find in a house like this. Her eyes fell on the family portraits dotted around; a smiling woman with auburn hair twisted into a clasp, a taller man smiling widely and a younger boy - Ethan. They held his shoulders tightly, lovingly, in the picture. She saw his face properly for the first time, not shrouded in the shadows. His features were delicate, and he was just as lanky as he had been in the study. Dirty blonde hair lay flat on his head, a little shorter than it was now.

They looked, in all the pictures, like a happy family. Family BBQ, Christmas portrait with the novelty jumpers, holiday snapshots. She felt a pang of familiarity but quickly dismissed it. She wondered absently where his parents were - the noise must have disturbed them. Perhaps they were away.

Her anxiety made her want to check, to be certain and she eyed the stairs leading to the first floor with determination. Ethan was still moving about in what she figured was his room, so she mounted the first step, treading very lightly. She'd always been gifted with stealth.

You could always count well made houses like these not to have an creaks in the stairs that gave you away. Jac turned to glance at the door Ethan was behind when she reached the top, seeing that it was only open a crack and he was too busy cramming things into a bag. The bathroom door was open, and completely dark except for the patch of moonlight coming through the window, illuminating the blue floor tiles. The only other door was closed - the master bedroom. She edged towards it silently and passed through the door.

She was met with the most perculiar smell - acrid but in a metallic way - and she couldn't place it at all. Like most rooms in the house, it was pitch black with the blinds drawn so she flicked on the small bedside lamp. She bit back a gasp at what it revealed.

More than one body, laying at odd angles with their limbs contorted and bent, were arranged across the enormous bed. She noticed all their arms seemed to be stretched out in some way as if they were reaching for something. But that wasn't the worst of it - their skin was shrunken against the bones so they looked like mummified skeletons, with their last expressions of terror and horror preserved perfectly on their faces. It looked...burnt...and when she gingerly ran a finger across part of the skin she found it to be crispy, like a dying leafy. Like the moisture had completely been sucked out of it. Any hair they'd had to speak of was now a few thin strands tufting from the scalp.

A glint of gold caught her eye on the hand of one of the bodies - wedding band, and the one beside it wore it too. Ethan's parents, she thought, and though she had no real proof, she just knew that these were the same smiling man and auburn haired woman from the photos. How different they looked in death.

And she knew in that instant that the boy across the hall had done this. That he was packing his bag, knowing his parents were gnarled corpses two doors away. The thought sent a cold wave through her and the whole room seemed darker. She needed to get out of here and get back-up, she suddenly thought. Screw back-up, let G.R.I.D have him.

It was only at that moment that she realised Ethan's noise had stopped, and she couldn't hear him. Jac kept very still, calculating quickly how she could out of this house, but like a shriek in the silence, her phone began to blast out a ringtone. Izzy, she realised, recognising the theme song she'd set for her friend. She scrambled for it to turn it off but she knew the damage was done.

If she got out of this, she was going to kill that girl for the worst timing ever.

The door opened a second later and Ethan entered - no gun this time, just a blank, cold expression. The nerves were all gone; she knew now that at least in part they'd been part of the act.

"I thought I told you to stay where you were," he said in a low voice.

"I've never been very good at doing what I was told," she retorted flatly.

"Why couldn't you just stay downstairs? It was all going to work out beautifully," he said with a discontented sigh.

"You mean, I was going to take you to my team and you were going to turn them all into human beef-jerky?" She waved absently at the bodies on the bed. "I don't think so."

"That was the plan. But now I guess I'll just have to kill you. I mean, I was going to anyway - you've just brought it forward in my to-do-list."

Jac quirked an eyebrow. "And what will my team say when I don't turn up?"

Ethan shrugged. "Well I presume they'll think G.R.I.D got you. After all, no one that gets caught by G.R.I.D ever comes out." He repeated her early words back to her in a sing-song way.

"Well, aren't you just the little genius," Jac cooed with a smirk. "Really. You've thought it all through. Except for the part where Thea figure out you're a liar and a murderer."

"Yeah," he said wistfully, "but by then it'll be too late for them."

"Sure. But there's a couple flaws in your plan - for a start, you're not coming anywhere with me with your filthy little hands," she snapped.

He let out a short laugh. "I'd say you don't really have a choice. You seem to be trapped."

Jac smirked. There was no such thing to her anymore.

"And besides that, they're not filthy," he went on, turning his palms over and examining his hands almost lovingly. "They're purifying. Every time I take a life I get stronger, healthier."

"I'd hate to have seen you before you killed a bunch of people then," she remarked dryly, scanning his skinny frame obviously.

"It's not as obvious as that. It's like...having an energy drink when you're feeling tired."

"An energy drink? These were your parents," she spat.

"They were, yes. Not much to them now. It was an accident at first. Like you said in your story, I wasn't sure what it was. It just happened. My father and I were fighting and I touched his hand. I couldn't let go, even though my mom was screaming." He paused at looked down at was left of his mother. "Then I couldn't let her live."

"Of course not," Jac replied sarcastically noting how blase he was as he talked about killing the people that brought him into this world. No remorse. No conflict. "Once you've killed one person, why not carry on?"

"You have no comprehension what it's like," he told her with an edge to his voice. "I tried to stop. I was terrified. But the surge...I'd never felt so well in all my life. I couldn't control it, and then I sort of found I didn't want to."

"So everyone that came to the door - milkman, mailman - what? You just invited them in and sucked the lifeforce out of them? How cute."

"Don't be stupid. You think your team is the only people that came after me?" Ethan laughed again but it was icy, and it shot straight through her.

"These are...Rheas?"

"They were," he said with a sickly grin spreading across his face. "But most of them were from Cronus - they didn't care much about 'helping me' like your team. I had to bide my time until a Thea came along because I knew you'd want to take me back to your HQ. Make me part of the team."

Jac frowned. "Why is that so important?"

"Absorbing a Rhea's life force isn't like absorbing an ordinary person's. The Black Rain and the powers Rhea's have...it's so much more potent. Think of it like...the finest brand of something you can by, as opposed to supermarket brand. And it makes me much stronger, much stronger."

It made sense now - his curiosity about the numbers, his lack of curiosity when it came to details. He'd got to ask all the questions before, with countless others, now all dead. She didn't want to know what he'd been doing in the Black Rain to get this kind of monstrous gift. She felt sick to her stomach. Still, she kept her cool.

"Your eagerness gave you away," she said with a smug grin.

"It did?" He sighed with a shrug. "I'll remember that for next time."

"And what about G.R.I.D?" Jac pointed out. "They'll be here later."

"And I'll be long gone. It doesn't take long to kill someone this way."

"You have to catch me first."

Ethan smirked. "You know, I think you're stalling. But this is nice - the others weren't so spunky. For all their villany, or bravado, everyone ended up begging in the end. I wonder if you will."

"I've never begged anyone for anything," Jac grinned. "And I'm not about to start."

"You're still stalling though. Which means you're afraid."

"It means I'm buying time. I have nothing to be afraid of." As she said the words, the reinforced her steely resolve. "You're not gonna touch me."

Ethan chuckled darkly, but seeing her expression his amusement wavered. "What exactly can you do?" he asked.

She said nothing.

"It doesn't matter anyway," he said, closing the door behind him. "It doesn't taste any different. Power is power."

He stepped towards her, but every muscle is Jac's body was ready, poised to spring - and she did just that. When he was close enough to lunge at her, she jumped straight through him and ran through the door.

She didn't have time to looked back at the sound of Ethan's sharp, delighted laugh, or when the door swung open behind her. Something was desperately wrong. A phase never made her feel this dizzy. Disorientated, her vision blurred, she made her way as fast as she could down the stairs. But it didn't feel right; her feet weren't quite connecting with the floor and then the next step would, as if she were flying but tripping at same time. She was part-phased she realised, like she was glitching in and out.

And just as that thought came to her, she tripped, tumbling down the last part of the stairs and landing in a heap, which she knew she had to get up from quickly. She staggered towards the couch. Jac looked down at her hands, watching them almost flicker as her molecules went crazy.

Passing through him had done it, she thought, because strangely he had felt thick as she did so, like he had stuck to her. She tried to fathom the science of it but it wasn't the time. Julian would know.

If she ever got to see Julian again.

She spun around to see Ethan already at the foot of the stairs, obviously enjoying the chase. She stepped back, through the couch, noticing that her equilibrium was returning. She felt stable for the moment.

"Very good. This will be a lot more stimulating," Ethan said to her. "In the end there was nothing any of the others could do. But you...I literally cannot touch you. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. Get a little dizzy back there?"

Jac stiffened and smirked, but it felt weak. "My shoe lace was untied."

"Ready for another go?"

He didn't give her time to answer - he just went for her - but she was ready this time. It became a dance - all she could do was keep phased to avoid his touch and move where he could not and so they went through a waltz of her ducking through objects, diving past him, trying to pass through him again. She did, once or twice, but it wasn't as bad as a full-phase, and when he was least expecting she made her fist solid and punched him in the gut.

She was by no means a she-Hulk, but she packed a fair punch. She expected a skinny runt like Ethan to double over but - even though it caught him by surprise - it seemed to have little effect. She tried again a minute later, even chancing phasing through him so she could behind him fast enough to kick him hard in the back, but all he did was step forward a little, and she was weakened.

"My turn now," he said animatedly before a sharp pain in her gut sent her hurtling backwards against the television. She hadn't even seen his fist move, and didn't have time to think, let alone phase as the impact sent her mind reeling. Jac slammed into the thing hard and dropped like a bag of potatoes. She slumped on the floor, trying to get up, but found she couldn't. Phasing was an impossible effort too, and her vision grew darker. Something wet and warm trickled down the side of her face, and recognised the smell of blood. And in her confusion one clear thought darted through like lightning.

She was going to die.

She had to laugh, slightly out of delirium she thought, that she was about to die on a hero's errand, working for a team of superheroes. Not at the hands of a drug dealer, or someone she'd been feeding false information to. Jac Sorensen was going to die on a mission Veda had sent her on.

Of all the luck.

Ethan stood far away but she knew he'd come over before long, and she was too tired to rise. Everything felt heavy, stiff.

"See what I mean about being stronger?" He crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah. You're a real hunk," she croaked out, trying at least to sit up to meet her death.

He looked at the clock. "It was fun, but I've really got to make a move."

Jac was grateful that her mind was slipping out of conciousness as he walked towards her, that she wouldn't be awake. She wasn't afraid to die, but the didn't mean watching, being mentally present would be pleasant. Her eyes grew heavier, and she shut them for the last time, welcoming the black, waiting for the finality to come. She was sure, in one of her last moments, there was a blinding flash of light, and then nothing again.

She didn't know what to expect from the afterlife, but it was noisier than she imagined. Voices, shouting, grunting, pleading. And then banging, something crackling wildly. More light behind her eyelids. She thought she heard Julian in a moment of madness but she thought that might be wishful thinking. It wasn't fair that in death, the dreams went on. She wanted peace.

Half images of people round her, fighting, filled the black, and were accentuated by flashes of blue, highlighting the features of the man across from her. A girl was thrown across the room to land somewhere near her.

Izzy, she thought with a groan. Someone repeating the word made her more alert.

"Izzy!"

Izzy needed her, Jac thought. But she was beyond being able to help. She was dead, wasn't she?

The pain felt too real to be an abstract dream and Jac tried blinking a few times to make the image before her stopping moving so much. The man opposite her was stepping away but his eyes met hers with startling clarity - the one fixed thing in a picture that was swimming, doubling.

Julian.

She stirred for the first time, testing her limbs.

"Stay right where you are, Izzy," Julian ordered.

"Are you crazy?" she yelled. "Go away! He's getting up. I need to hit him again."

"Izzy, stay right there. Don't move."

The conversation switched between sharp and loud, and muffled, like she was underwater. Julian looked back at her pointedly.

A moment later, two things happened; the girl beside her - Izzy, she now realised - stood up, hands ready and tensed to fight. Then, her view of Julian was obscured by another figure standing in front of him, but she already knew enough of what Julian had been trying to convey to her with his eyes.

He wasn't luring Ethan away, he was removing himself from the equation. Shortly Ethan wouldn't be powerless...but neither would she or Izzy. And she realised that at that moment, it wasn't Izzy that Julian wanted to act.

Surprisingly, she found she was feeling pretty strong for a dead person, minus the blinding pain in the general area of...well, everywhere, and she managed to get unsteadily to her feet, grappling at the shelves around the television for support. When she was upright, she nodded once to Julian to let him know she was ready.

"Julian. Move!" Izzy cried in front of her. Ethan had gotten up and was advancing slowly towards the girl. He barely noticed Jac behind her.

"Hold on."

"Please," Izzy begged. "Back away!"

Julian waited for the moment when Ethan was practically upon them, before she felt the pressing aura of his power lift. She never knew it was there, until it was gone.

"Jac, now!"

She grabbed Izzy, wrapping her arms around her and with all the strength she had, she pulled them both back through the wall, through the television and directly out into the cool of outside, Julian and Ethan disappearing as they fell back into a crumpled heap and crsuhed some poor flowers.

The next few minutes were as much of a dream as the rest. Izzy, after mumbling some unintelligable, collapsed and fell unconcious - a side effect of exhaustion and phasing, full body, for the first time. Jac stepped back through the wall just in time to see Julian smack Ethan hard in the mouth, the once threatening Rhea just a weedy little kid, once his powers were subdued by Julian's.

He fell somewhere near Jac and scrambled to his feet. His eyes were wild and panicked. "What have you done to me?" he screeched at her, and in an desperate attempt to win, grabbed her by the wrists.

She felt nothing. No sudden rush of her life being dragged out of her. No blinding pain. No fear.

She smirked at him, though it hurt her face a little.

"We've beaten you," she said in a low, cold voice.

And just because she could, she brought her knee up and slammed it hard into his groin.