In truth, I don't expect many people to read this, let alone review. It doesn't feature the Titans from the show, and while you don't have to read Second Chance to understand the events here, only those who were followers of the original story will probably even be interested in this one. Still, I wanted to give it a shot...if nothing else, then for my own amusement.

Early drafts of Second Chance focused more on the future Titans that Starfire met during her time-travel incident. It featured a lot of flashbacks to the days when they each met, and showed what they were really like as a team before Rose came along. An entire chapter had even been devoted to telling of "the incident" in full.

Obviously, little more than some dialogue-based summaries made it into the final edit, but I found myself unable to completely discard several of those scenes. So I decided to expand on them further, turning the whole Tim/Rose subplot into it's own side-story. Thus, How Far We've Come was born.

o*0*o

"The more you know someone, the more you should love them." -House MD, episode 4.12

o*0*o

Chapter I

Her heart pounded in time to the steady beat of metal boots against pavement as she darted through the back alleyways of downtown Jump City. Time was limited, and she was being pursued. She could hear them now—five of them, a female and four males. Only three could fly, but the other two were fast. Very fast.

Still, the odds remained somewhat in her favor. The moon had fallen behind a patch of thick clouds, making it near impossible to see at that time of night, and most of the street lamps in the neighborhood had either long burnt out or were broken. With her all-black ensemble, save for the burnt sienna tinging half her mask, she would be practically invisible.

When she thought the coast was clear, she crept into one of the smaller spaces between two vacant office buildings. Just long enough to check the tiny pouch on her belt, needing the reassurance that the item in question was still there. As before, it was weighted with the promise of victory, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Looking back, she probably should have just kept running.

"Freeze!"

She turned in partial shock at how close the voice sounded, thankful the mask would have concealed her expression. Less than ten feet away stood the famous Teen Titans—exactly whom she had been trying to avoid.

It was their leader who called to her...or, at least, the one she assumed was leader. A very muscular boy, he wore a simple pair of jeans and a black t-shirt emblazoned with some sort of personal symbol across his chest. His teammates flanked around him, each in a stance clearly meant to portray a readiness to attack upon command. Yet, he chose instead to lower his fists and step forward.

"Look, we don't want to fight you." His tone was just shy of patronizing. "Whatever it is, just hand it over and we'll let you go."

An eyebrow rose in partial disbelief, despite knowing fully well that he would not be able to see it. Was he serious? What kind of hero would be willing to dismiss criminal acts in exchange for the mere return of stolen goods?

His female teammate seemed to share a similar sentiment: "Wait a second. What do you mean, we'll let her go?"

"Not now, Wonder Girl," he called back through clenched teeth.

Had the circumstances been different, she might have found amusement in the strained look adorning his face as he struggled to maintain composure.

"Yes, now." The one called Wonder Girl placed her hands on her lips, glaring holes into the back of her supposed leader's head. "I'm all for rehabilitation, but there's still such a thing as consequences around here...as in, do the crime, do the time. Whether or not they surrender."

"Um, hello?" A dark-skinned boy dressed in blues and yellows knelt down on what looked to be an electrically-charged hover disk. "Much as watching the two of you go at it never gets old, can we please get back to fighting the bad guy instead of each other?"

The slightest shift in air pressure alerted her to the sudden presence of two figures on either side of her; she looked down to find identical white jumpsuits attached to identical cocky smirks. Her eyes widened when she realized that the one on the right had her vial!

Stupidly, her hand reached for the now-empty pouch dangling from her belt.

Anger welled within her at having been so easily distracted. She reached out to reclaim the vial, but both jumpsuits disappeared before she could blink, reappearing at their teammates' sides. The 'leader' and female were still on edge with one another, and hardly seemed to notice. This gave her an idea.

Dashing forward, she managed to catch the 'leader' first, her fists meeting with a fairly casual slap of his palms. Several more blows were dismissed in equally casual motions, the boy growing more confident with each block, until she surprised him with a sudden low sweep to the legs combined with a swift kick to the stomach. His female teammate was still close behind, so when he went flying back, he sent them both into an ungraceful heap on the cold cement.

Electricity crackled past her ear, and she looked up to find several more bolts charging in the fingertips of the boy on the hover disk. Not knowing how to shield herself, she executed a quick series of backflips and strategic footwork to avoid being struck. All the while, she mentally cursed herself for allowing him to get her on the defensive. But there was no way for her to reach him; he was too high above her, and her limited powers boasted no flying capabilities.

Her gaze fell on the twin terrors in between lightning strikes. Their powers involved super speed, she had easily deduced, but little else. They weren't all that graceful, either. If she could trip them up, or distract them just long enough to grab the vial—

A bolt hit her left shoulder, and she gave a low hiss in pain as her opposite hand instinctively reached for the wound. The voltage of the attack had been low enough not to cause serious damage, thankfully, but already she could feel the flesh beneath her torn uniform sting from potential second-degree burns.

That was it; she'd had enough.

The leader and his female teammate were just starting to untangle themselves from one another. The flying electromagnet was getting cocky. If she were to ever get the vial back, now would be her chance.

Reaching into the back of her belt, she pulled out a small capsule. A quick assessment of her surrounds, and she threw it to the ground. Instantly, the surrounding area was filled with a thick cloud of gray. As expected, the heroes were so caught off-guard that they forgot—or simply didn't realize—that their cries of surprise were not giving away their positions.

Electric boy had retreated higher into the air, hoping to maintain an aerial vantage, but his fit of coughing told that he hadn't been able to avoid the smoke. Leader and Girl were sticking close together, wandering no more than a few feet from where they had fallen, each calling out to assure the other's safety. And the one with the vial...

Got it!

They were much shorter than she, so with a running start, she fell to her knees and grabbed the vial as she skidded past. Her momentum allowed her to break into a sprint without pause, taking off before the lot could even register what had happened. She vaguely heard the cries of surprise as the little one realized he no longer had the vial, before they were out of earshot.

Were it not for the pain in her shoulder, she would have smirked at how easy that should have been. From all she had heard of the Teen Titans from her Master, she had been expecting more of a challenge. Their predecessors, the original Titans, had taken on some of the greatest criminal minds she had ever studied. But this new generation seemed sloppy, unfocused, and lacked any sense of unity among themselves.

She ran through the backstreets for nearly five minutes before allowing herself a pause for air. Resting her back against the rough surface of an old brick wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Only another mile and a half, and she would be home.

A cat screeched further down the alleyway, startling her, followed by the sound of clattering trash cans. She pushed herself away from the wall to investigate.

She almost didn't hear it in time; the subtle swoosh of a cape, just beyond her peripheral vision. Unfortunately, when she located its source, she turned directly into a flying kick that knocked her to the ground. The force of the blow was enough to rip off her mask, the hood falling to her shoulders.

Her assailant came to a low crouch as he, too, recoiled from the impact. His sight fell to where his foe had fallen, and was surprised to see soft, flowing locks of hair cascading down past the shoulders—hair that looked almost white as the soft moonlight came out from behind a cloud. For the first time, he was able to get a good look at the shape of the figure beneath the uniform. A girl.

Slightly taken aback by this, he slowly rose to a standing position. It took her longer to mirror his actions; on top of having the wind knocked out of her, she was heavily favoring her left side. When at last she made it to her feet, she lifted her eyes to meet his...and he found himself staring into the most brilliant pools of emerald he had ever seen.

She was sort of pretty, his mind absently noted. Her skin was fair, her hair even fairer, giving her an almost ethereal look about her. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen years old, the same age as he. Her face was on the roundish side, and there were signs that she had not yet lost all her baby fat. The rest of her was petite, almost delicate, and as she stood before him, he couldn't help thinking that she seemed...almost fragile.

Then she gave a sudden sharp intake of breath, as if having been hit in the stomach, and her eyes clouded over.

He frowned. Villain or not, his protective instincts kicked in. He stepped forward, careful not to make any sudden movements that could startle her, and waited for a reaction.

Nothing.

He took another step, frown deepening as he called out, "Are...you okay?"

The sound of his voice shocked her from her stupor; she stumbled back, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Her eyes scanned the ground frantically, as if searching more for an answer than an object, and when she finally lifted them, they were wide with fear.

"I...you..." she began, the softness of her voice making her seem even younger than she already way. But any further words died on her lips, and without thinking, she tried to make a run for the nearest exit.

"Wait!" He cried out, grabbing her arm.

She gave a small groan of protest and struggled against his hold, though there was a sudden desperation behind her actions. As pale as she had been before, her complexion had gone deathly white in the span of only a few seconds. Her breathing was growing more ragged than labored, the beginning signs of an anxiety attack.

"Let go of me!" She exclaimed in a near-panic. "Dammit, Tim, let me go!"

He did release her, if only out of pure shock.

"W-what did you just call me?" There were only five individuals in all of Jump who knew his birth name, and none of them ever referred to him as such.

But she, too, had realized her error and remained frozen in place, meeting his wide-eyed gaze with a look of pure horror. Her whole body began to tremble, and when she opened her mouth to explain herself, nothing came out. She stumbled back a few steps, eyes never leaving his, until finally turning to make her escape.

For once, Tim Drake—previously known to the criminal world only as Robin—could not bring himself to give chase.

o*0*o

"I'm telling you, Kon," Donna insisted in a near huff. "That was a girl."

Conner sighed, resisting the urge to rub at his temples. "I'm not saying it wasn't. Just that we shouldn't assume anything until we have some solid evidence, that's all."

"And what's wrong with assuming we're up against a female, anyhow?"

"N-nothing!" He sputtered, subconsciously sitting up a little straighter in his seat. Donna was in peak form that evening, it seemed. "I just—"

"Look, just because you have absolutely no experience with the female form doesn't mean I don't know a girl when I see one!"

"That's not what I meant, Donna, and you know it," Conner replied weakly, trying his best to ignore a snickering Virgil to his left.

The five Titans were sitting around a medium sized table, the room otherwise bare of furnishings. More than an hour had passed since their encounter with Jump City's newest criminal mind, and while none of the Titans had sustained physical injuries, the battle had dealt a major blow to their prides. Not a trace of the mysterious figure had been seen since the smoke cleared, and they still didn't even know the guy's name.

Or girl's, according to Donna.

"You want evidence?" The sole female of the group leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest in determination. "Well, how's this sound: given estimated height and weight, I'm guessing she's somewhere around Robin's age, meaning she would have already started puberty. Her hips extend out further than a boy of thirteen's would, her shoulders were much leaner, and I was able to detect signs of some very nice breasts beginning to develop. Seriously, wearing a skin-tight outfit like that, there's no way she would have been able to hide her sex for very long!"

Around the time Donna first uttered the word 'puberty', Conner had begun turning an interesting shade of red. A shade that deepened with every passing second. When he had requested they discuss observations in battle that might aid in identification, this was not what he'd had in mind.

For her part, Donna rolled her eyes when she realized that even Virgil was struggling to meet her gaze after her detailed analysis. Boys!

The two youngest of the group chose then to look up with mirroring expressions of guilt. Sharing a glance with one another, it was Miguel who spoke for them both: "We are sorry. This girl...she escaped because of us, yes?"

"Hey, lighten up, you two." Virgil tried to reassure them. "So she was more slippery than we thought. We may have underestimated her this time, but that don't mean we're gonna let her get by us next time!"

"Doesn't mean," Donna absently muttered.

"My apologies, Grammar Princess," came the sarcastic reply.

"Guys..." Conner pleaded, sensing an oncoming migraine. When Donna shot him another Look, he quickly amended, "and girl."

Sometimes, he wondered if they purposely picked fights just to toy with him. They certainly chose not to listen to him, even though he was the designated leader. If Donna wasn't finding some feministic topic to mull over, Virgil would be right there with some other excuse for her to blow up. The twins tended to remain civil enough, but with their limited English and near co-dependency on one another, they usually contributed little to the discussions.

Of course, this was to say nothing of the resident 'Lone Wolf', who hardly even saw fit to grace them with his presence during—

As if on cue, a door outside the room hissed open. If Conner hadn't been looking up at just the right moment, he would have missed the colorful figure of the Titans' most reclusive member as he passed by.

"So nice of you to join us, Robin," Conner called out sarcastically. He knew his tone wasn't helping any, but he was growing too frustrated to play nice that evening. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

He fully expected Tim to shrug him off like usual; in the months since the newest Boy Wonder's arrival at Titans Tower, only a fraction of that time had actually been spent among team members. For what little compliance he could expect from the others, Conner had learned early on that Tim would simply not follow his lead. He ignored protocol, often went out on his own, and almost never shared intelligence with the rest.

So when the younger boy actually paused in the doorway, expression betraying the heavy thoughts on his mind, Conner was too taken aback to make any further comments.

"I was wondering," Tim began, addressing the group. "Have any of you been using our birth names out in public at all? Even in passing?"

The Titans each looked at one another in slight surprise before simultaneously shaking their heads.

"Of course we haven't," Virgil answered. "Why do you ask?"

"...no reason." Tim tried to shrug it off, turning to leave.

Sitting back in his chair, Conner had to struggle against a growing sense of jealousy deep within him. He was supposed to be the leader of the team, and yet Tim was able to get straightforward responses out of them with practically no effort at all. They didn't even seem to care that he was dismissing them without bothering to explain himself!

"Wait!" Donna cried out, drawing Tim's attention back into the room. "Maybe you can help us settle this. You run into that new criminal wandering Jump these last few weeks? Black suit, two-toned mask, likes taking things that belong to others?"

"Yeah?" Tim asked, confused by the line of questioning. "What about her?"

"Aha!" Donna exclaimed victoriously, turning to Conner with her hands in the air. "Her! Told ya, Konny!"

Conner groaned as she continued to make use of his least-favorite nickname, a hand rising to his forehead. Yep, it was definitely a migraine he felt coming on.

o*0*o

The communications room was dark when Tim entered, save for the bright glow of the monitor. Part of him knew Barbara would threaten to skin him alive if she found out he was risking his retinas so carelessly (again), but the other part just didn't care right then. He needed answers, and there was only one person he knew who could help.

"Robin to Nightwing," he announced as the link was established, taking a seat in the nearest chair. "You there?"

The screen fizzled and warped, until the image of a young man in his late teens appeared. The bluish tint to his complexion told Tim that he was not alone in risking ending up on the receiving end of a certain red-haired girl's wrath.

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Went up against this new villain tonight," Tim explained, getting straight to the point. He and Dick spoke so often that the usual formalities were no longer necessary between them. "I was wondering if you could find any background or other bits of info that might help."

Behind the mask, and eyebrow raised. "You've never needed my help before. What makes this guy so different from all the rest?"

"She's...not a guy," the younger boy admitted hesitantly, averting his gaze from the screen.

Dick was torn between sending his surrogate younger brother a teasing grin, and smacking himself on the forehead. He settled for both. "Oh, man!" A half-laugh, half-groan escaped his lips. "I know Bruce can be a bit of a bad influence at times, but I never thought—"

"I-it's not like that!" Tim nearly squeaked, sitting up a little straighter.

"That's what Bruce said. The first thee times, anyhow."

"Dick..." he pleaded.

The elder of the two chuckled in good humor, holding his hands up as a sign of temporary defeat. "Okay, okay. Assuming I believe you, why do you need me to dig into her background?"

"Two reasons. First, if I've recognized the uniform correctly, she's working for Slade." he paused as Dick's expression noticeably darkened. "For another, she knew my name."

"Well, that's not all that surprising." Despite the surge of anger at the mere mentioning of his former nemesis' name, Dick managed a shrug. "You've been in Jump for a while now. Any criminal with the most basic knowledge of the Titans would know who you are."

"That's not what I meant. She knew my name...as in, the one my parents gave me."

Dick's lips pressed together in a thin line as he realized what the boy meant. "She told you this?"

"It sorta slipped out," Tim explained. "One minute, she was looking at me kinda funny, then she starts freaking out about nothing. I tried to grab her before she could run off, and she screams for me to let her. The thing was, though...it was like she was afraid of me, even more so after she realized what she'd called me."

Dick let out a hugh sigh, scratching at the back of his head. "I don't suppose she was just acting? Girls like to pull the whole 'helpless' routine when they're backed into a corner."

"But she wasn't." Tim's brows furrowed together in confusion. "That's what makes the whole thing so weird. It came out of completely nowhere."

"Then I'm not sure what else to say." Dick shrugged. "In my experience, you only get reactions like that when a villain is trying to freak you out, mess with your head so you'd let her go...but if you say that's not the case, then something bigger must be going on here." His attention turned to something just below camera-level, and Tim heard the sounds of keys clicking. "I'll see what I can find on her in the meantime. You got a name or physical description?"

"No name." Tim shook his head. "But she looked around my age. Umm...a little under five feet tall, maybe ninety pounds. Petite. Roundish face, fair skin with white hair and bright green eyes."

"She sounds pretty."

"She is," Tim replied without thinking. When his brain finally caught up with his mouth, he flushed a brilliant shade of pink. "T-that is...what I meant was—"

"Save it for Babs," Dick smirked knowingly. "You know there's no way she's not gonna find out about this."

Tim let out a low groan, slouching in his seat. A hand went to his forehead. "Me and my big mouth."

"Hey, it happens to the best of us." But then his voice grew distant as he added in almost a murmur, "Guess we both have a thing for green eyes..."

For a moment, Tim's expression grew solemn as he watched his surrogate older brother's face sadden. He had heard stories of Dick's past, and knew that he was thinking of something in particular just then...or, rather, someone.

"Listen, Tim," Dick spoke up suddenly. "I'm the last person who should be telling you what to do in this kind of situation. Based on stories I've heard, it could go either way. What I will say is that, if you genuinely believe that this girl needs saving, then you should help her."

"Really?" Tim's eyes widened.

"We're heroes. It's in our nature to want to protect others. Even the pretty ones."

"That's not—"

"I know." Dick abruptly cut him off. "If it were, I wouldn't be wasting my time helping you. You went with your instincts, not your hormones. And those instincts are telling you that something's not right here. Personally, I agree."

Tim blinked in surprise. "You do?"

A sharp nod. "I know Slade. He wouldn't use that kind of information to have his lackeys make weak attempts at psyching you out. He'd have gone after you himself at the first sign your guard was down." Folding his arms, Dick sat back in deep thought. "No, this leaves us with two burning questions. One, how she managed to get this information on you in the first place."

"And the other?"

"...why she hasn't told Slade about it yet."

o*0*o

Rose didn't stop until she was deep within the confines of the underground base.

Coming to a halt in one of the empty corridors, she pressed her forehead against one of the cool metal support beams and closed her eyes. A low groan escaped her lips, though not from the burn on her shoulder. Neither it, nor the small prize still sitting in her belt pouch occupied her thoughts. Not anymore.

She had experienced Visions in the heat of battle before—they only ever lasted a few seconds, anyway—but none had ever affected her so badly. How could they? It wasn't as if she regularly saw herself laughing and smiling with the enemy, chatting away about nothing like they were the closest of friends....

She clenched her fists tightly together as she pushed away from the wall in frustration. Her heart raced with the fear of what such a Vision could lead to. Of what it meant, and what would happen if he found out about it.

"Ravager?" A voice called to her from deep within the lair.

She froze, looking to the air as she willed herself calm. "Y-yes, Master?"

"Come to me, child. I await your return."

Taking a deep breath, she could only will her limbs to obey.

He was sitting in his usual throne when she entered, a large pot of tea sitting beside an almost comedically dainty cup. Though his mask was firmly in place, he still managed to maneuver the steaming liquid to his lips without difficulty. His body language gave no indication of acknowledging her approach, yet she knew he was watching her every move.

"I have returned," she announced, taking a knee in deep respect for the man.

"And your mission?"

"A success." She had almost forgotten about the small vial until that moment, retrieving it from the confines of her belt without hesitation. It seemed to shine under the room's oddly bright fluorescent lighting.

"Was there any trouble?"

"I did...encounter the Teen Titans, Master." She winced at the admission, hoping he would not be too displeased with her. "But I was able to escape without incident."

Slade paused just long enough to place the cup down in its matching saucer before reaching out to take the small glass tube from her. As the weight left her fingers, she lowered her arm but remained otherwise still. Through her peripheral vision, she saw him turn it over several times in his hand, inspecting every last detail with great care.

His sole eye then turned back to her, and he gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Do not lie to me, child." She shivered at his ominous tone. "I can see well enough that retrieving this for me did not go 'without incident', as you claim."

Her eyes widened as she watched him rise from his seat, placing the vial next to his half-empty teacup. The gentle clinking of glass as it touched ceramic echoed through the large room. As he approached, her lids snapped shut in fear, anticipating the harsh lecture she would receive. Possibly even punishment for her insolence. For failing him.

Instead, she felt the gentle touch of his cool fingers against her aching shoulders. She looked up to see him kneel before her, staring at the wound with even greater care than he had the vial. His gaze, thought partially concealed by the mask, betrayed his concern as he assessed the severity of her injury.

"You were attacked, child," he stated the obvious. "From the look of it, by the one called Static."

So taken aback at the sudden warmth in his voice, Rose could only nod.

"Thankfully, it does not look serious." Slade rose to his feet, helping her up in the process. "Come, we must get that tended to at once."

"But," she began, "I—"

Again, he chuckled, and she was amazed at how much less menacing it sounded to her now. "Did you think I would seriously punish you for returning to me in less than perfect condition?"

"I...did not wish you to think me weak." Her gaze lowered.

"I would not have chosen you if I thought you were." He placed comforting arm around her shoulders and led her toward the medical area. "You and I both know, child, that the extent of your powers do not include offensive techniques. Your fighting skills are human at best, true, but do not mistake a lack of strength for weakness."

"I don't understand." She looked up at him in confusion.

He paused in his steps, turning to better face her as he placed a hand atop her head. "You are young, inexperienced, and without superhuman fighting abilities, and yet you stood against a team of your peers who posses extraordinary powers of their own. Ones that do enhance their speed, strength, and skill. By escaping such an encounter with nothing more than a minor flesh wound, you have already surpassed my greatest expectations of you, dear daughter." His hand moved to cup her cheek. "I am proud."

At a loss for words, Rose was filled with a fresh wave of overwhelming love and admiration as she listened to his praise. Tears threatened to spill, but she managed to keep the unnecessary displays of emotion at bay. Still, she inwardly thanked the Powers That Be for allowing her presence to enter the man's life, and for his presence to be a part of hers.

"Tell me, Rose," he continued as they entered the examination room. The smell of sterilization hit her with full force. "Did you have any Visions this evening?"

No longer fearing his rejection, she openly admitted, "I did."

"How delightful," he proclaimed, sitting her on one of the larger, more comfortable cots. The burn kit was located in one of the higher cabinets, and he had to search several moments before finding it. "May I ask what you Saw?"

Rose nodded, if only out of habit. Slade had never once demanded that she disclose the details of her Visions, though she had never found a reason not to share them with him.

"I Saw one of the Titans."

"Interesting." His tone carried like one who was listening more out of politeness than genuine interest. "Did you learn anything of consequence?"

She opened her mouth to tell him all about Tim. About the young boy her age, with deep blue eyes and a fondness for childish pranks. Who put others before himself to an almost embarrassingly high degree, yet didn't seem to get along with his teammates very well. Information that she and Slade could both use well to their advantage.

But, at the last second...she hesitated: "I'm not sure."

Slade interrupted the conversation by pulling down the collar of her shirt just enough to expose the burn. Her skin had been rubbed raw from the strain she had put on it after being it, and though his expression was unreadable, his body language told her that he was less than happy about it. Still, he set to work applying rubbing alcohol to a sterile cloth, pressing it to the burn with great tenderness.

"Well, what was this Titan doing?" he asked, in an effort to distract her from the sudden sting.

Rose bit her lip to keep from crying out before answering, "H-he was laughing, sitting in a pile of snow."

"So it was winter," Slade noted. "Was he with anyone?"

He was with me. "No, he wasn't."

"You saw him, alone, laughing in the snow?"

"Y-yes." Her lips seemed to be moving of their own accord, unable to speak the truth for reasons she could not understand. To collaborate the lack of information, she gave a light shrug, wincing as the motion sent a wave of pain down her arm. "It was not exactly the most interesting of Visions."

"I can imagine." He placed a gauze covered in cooling gel over the sterilized wound. It felt good. "Was there anything else you wish to tell me about the Vision?"

I heard his name! I spoke his name!

"No. I'm sorry."

"That's alright." She could almost hear the smile in his voice. He believed her unquestioningly. "You can barely control them, my dear Rose. I could hardly expect you to See vital information in every Vision."

When he turned to reach for the cloth bandages, she inaudibly let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding until then. For the first time, she was grateful for the unpredictability of her Visions. He was none the wiser.

...but why am I giving him a reason to be?

She knew that he was pleased whenever she Saw things that were useful to him, but he also never showed disappointment whenever she didn't. It was as if cared more for the growth of her powers than the powers themselves—that he cared more for her. He was so understanding, it made her feel guilty to have lied to him at all.

"Thank you, Father," she spoke, her voice at a near whisper.

He nodded once before returning to the wrappings around her shoulder, unaware that she had not been referring exclusively to the first aid.