Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen

...

Author's note: there's graphic torture in the section after six dots... ...

...

Mia frowned at Fisher, deciding to drink her coffee before dealing with her partner. Past experience had taught her that she'd need the caffeine first, especially on a night shift. She didn't know if it was better or worse that Monty and Tyrone's night shift rotation landed at the same time as hers and Fisher's.

Halfway through her coffee, Mia couldn't ignore her suspense or curiosity anymore and walked around to Fisher's desk. "What are you doing, Fisher?"

He didn't look up at her as he answered, "Looking at cold cases. Chief won't let me in the field again until I have evidence, but I can't get evidence unless I'm in the field," Fisher muttered. "One of these cases will give me the evidence I need, I know they will."

Seeing one of the folders on his desk, Mia frowned and took it from the pile. "You're not really considering that Layla and Warren committed this, are you? They weren't even born yet."

Fisher grabbed the file. "We don't know what kind of supers they are. The age doesn't matter," he said cagily.

Mia shook her head and wished she'd finished her coffee. "I'll help you, but I refuse to look at cases that are older than them," she added firmly.

Fisher looked up in surprise. "You will?"

"I like you, Fisher. I think you're an amazing Detective, and if you think this will indict them, then I'll help."

Fisher smiled briefly, then turned his attention to the boxes of folders before anyone could notice the foreign expression on his face. "These three boxes are within the last twenty years. Older than them, but not by much, and I probably couldn't sort them unless I did it manually. Cold cases aren't filed as meticulously as they should be," he muttered.

Mia grabbed the first of the boxes and really wished she'd finished her coffee. Outside, the dark sky darkened further with clouds and the occasional strike of lightning.

...

"We're almost there. Just a little longer, Heids. You're doing great," Zach said, turned in his seat to try to see how his sister was doing.

Heidi was paler than he'd like, but she didn't acknowledge his words, concentrating solely on Victor.

Ethan tugged Zach so he was facing forward. "If we have a car accident, the seatbelt won't protect you while you're twisted like that," he said, admonishing Zach lightly.

"We won't crash, Connor - "

"Connor can't control other drivers," Ethan interrupted sternly.

Zach relented with a nod and straightened his seat belt. "Thanks for worrying about me, Eth."

"Always."

"I'll try fixing his mineral levels once we're at the Hive. It's probably better to do it once the electricity is out of his body," Robin said.

"Pothole," Connor called, the van practically crawling around the hole in the road.

"We're good," Ry replied, seeing Heidi's thumbs up from the back.

Connor glanced in the rearview mirror but still couldn't see Victor, so he returned his attention to the road once more.

"Council should fix the potholes, don't you think, Layla?" Honey asked.

"They should, but they won't. The Mayor is focused on a new skyscraper; he says it brings business and creates jobs, even though the last one he built is still two-thirds empty," Layla muttered.

"AAA do road maintenance. They've hired several Council contractors since they haven't had work with the Council in almost a year," Honey said.

"All right; I'll find the forms on Monday. There's enough money to repair the roads and still have a profit this quarter."

"If you need to track additional spending, I can create a budget spreadsheet for you," Ethan offered.

"I created something basic already, but you're welcome to have a look and suggest improvements."

"There's the Hive. Can we get closer to the front door, Layla? I don't think carrying Victor from the car park will help with his pain," Connor said.

Warren held Layla's hand and slowly, the forest in front of the Hive began to part. Trees moved, the path between them widening until the van could fit through the space with careful manoeuvring.

Connor drove into the parking lot, then onto the brief grass area before driving between the trees.

Roots sank into the ground as he approached, the path was as smooth as any road he'd driven on before. Connor resolved to thank Layla as soon as he wasn't concentrating on getting to the Hive. As they got closer, Connor saw that the Hive itself was changing. The ramp widened and the doorway stretched.

"You're sure?" Connor asked over his shoulder, not looking away from the ramp only ten metres ahead.

"It's reinforced. Can you reverse in so we don't block Adam's room? I don't want to rearrange the bathroom plumbing unless I have to."

Connor nodded and used the space between the forest and Hive to reverse back onto the ramp and through the doorway.

"I told you it'd fit a Mini," Jewel said in greeting, grinning.

"Where's Victor?" Craig asked, both Grant and Jewel holding him back, their hands curled around his forearms.

"He's in the boot. Can I do a stretcher, Honey?" Layla asked.

"You're fine here," Honey said with a nod.

"So we can kill them?" Warren asked, sounding far too pleased at the prospect.

"It's after midnight. Go wild."

Warren kissed Honey's cheek. "You're amazing. He'll be all right; Ida will be here soon."

"I'm here now, actually. Make the doorway wider so I can get through, would you?" Ida asked Layla, the doorway expanding. "What happened to him and where's my theatre?" she asked, seeing Victor unconscious on the wooden stretcher.

"This way, Dr. Spattle," Robin called, leading the way down to the lower Hive and the room that Adam and Terrence had organised.

Ida followed Warren and Grant as they carried Victor's stretcher down the stairs carefully.

"We need a ramp down here, it's not very accessible, hippie."

"Later, Warren," Layla promised, concentrating on creating chairs in the hallway for Craig and Connor since she doubted either would leave Victor until they knew he was okay.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Eth? You okay?"

"They're fighting back. Greta is pissed. She's using the thorns to hurt me. Super Jesus, that hurts," Ethan said, clutching Zach's hand tightly.

"We'll deal with her soon. Is Cara fighting?" Layla asked.

"No, she's either unconscious or paralysed with fear at being inside a freak," he replied.

"Good. Keep her for now; Connor and Craig will probably want to deal with her. We'll work on Greta while Victor's in with Ida," Layla said, resting a hand on Ethan's shoulder and drawing out the pain from Greta's phantom thorns.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'm sorry she hurt you like that," Layla said, hugging him.

"I know."

"Is there anything else you need, Dr. Spattle? I can make any equipment you want," Terrence said, nervous and wringing his hands, hoping Adam's mother would approve of his work.

"This will be fine. Do you still want to assist?" Ida asked, watching them intently.

Robin nodded. "Yes, Doctor. I still plan on working in medicine when I graduate," they added with a grin.

"Even if you have to heal people you may not like? The Hippocratic Oath is not something to be taken lightly; you can't pick and choose."

"I know. I'd heal Greta if I had to," Robin said, wrinkling their nose at the thought.

Nodding, Ida took out a pair of gloves, handing them to Robin. "Wash up and put those on. I brought extra scrubs, too," she said, nodding to her bag.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Everyone stay out; I'll call if I need help," Ida said.

Everyone apart from Robin, Warren and Grant had stayed out of the sterilised room in an attempt to keep it that way. Grant and Warren moved Victor across to the tall table frame, Ida asking Layla for modifications to the height and size of the table.

"Terrence, we need you to work the equipment," Robin said, waving him inside.

Terrence looked to Ida, who nodded, and he stepped into the room. Vines closed off the doorway behind him.

Connor sank down onto one of the chairs, staring at the vine-covered doorway blankly.

"Papa?" Ryuu said, resting a hand on Connor's shoulder. He hadn't expected a response and didn't get one.

"The training arena's open to anyone who needs it. Layla and I will be working on Greta; you can watch, but if you disturb us and it's not an emergency, I'll kill you myself," Warren said, blue fire burning in his eyes.

"I'll reform her and Cara, then I'm going to bed. This has ruined my sleeping schedule entirely," Ethan said.

Zach snorted at his boyfriend's deadpan tone and expression. "Stop making jokes, this is serious business," he said, following Layla and Warren down to one of the end combs, as far away from Connor and Victor as possible.

"I'll let Edith know he's safe. She's probably losing her mind," Craig said.

"We'll watch Cara and make sure she doesn't try to escape," Jewel said, kissing his cheek.

"If she does, break her legs this time."

"We plan on breaking her to pieces, babe," Grant said, kissing Craig's cheek, his sledgehammer by his side.

"Good. I'll be right back."

"How's your brain feeling? No permanent damage?" Wendy asked, following after him with Heidi.

"What happened?" Heidi asked, looking between them.

"I tried using your power on Dad through the phone. Fried him and myself at the same time," Craig admitted, rubbing his forehead with a wince. "I'm okay, the electricity just needed a way to get out and I redirected it without hurting myself more. Rubber soles helped," he said, flexing his bare feet.

"You need practice," Heidi said, frowning. "Ace, can you add the app to Cee's phone?"

"Good idea, lil sis," Adam said, grinning.

Craig called Edith, letting her know that Victor was safe and Ida was looking after him.

"That's a relief, dear. Let me know when I can see him, all right? I'll bring the twins, I'm sure Victor needs them as much as they need their Dada."

"Yeah, probably. Cara was trying to get him to repeal the super restraining order."

"Like I'd let that bitch within three feet of those precious babies."

"Neither would I. You go to sleep now, okay? I'll text you in the morning when Victor's awake."

"Thank you, dear. You stay safe and try to sleep."

"You too, Edith. Love you," Craig said, rubbing at the tears in his eyes.

"Love you too, dearie," Edith said, ending the call before she started crying on the phone.

Checking on the twins - finally asleep after a restless few hours - Edith went to her room to try to sleep without focusing on her guilt.

...

The only reason Mia and Fisher had been let out of the station was due to the extensive storm damage that had occurred throughout Maxville. Mia planned on dealing with the storage unit damage, taking photos of the damage for insurance purposes, and clocking off as soon as possible.

She was freezing with the cold weather around her and hailstones under her feet, and the night shift was taking its toll on her patience and exhaustion. Not to mention, she'd left a nice hot coffee by her desk and the second box of cold cases. So far, nothing she'd read had implicated Layla nor Warren, and she had been trying to fend off a headache when the storm had finally broken over Maxville. When the storm passed, Chief had sent everyone out to deal with the influx of problems and calls that had come into the precinct.

Mia and Fisher had been given the eastern area of Westville along with Monty and Tyrone, much to the annoyance of all four. Well, Mia and Monty got along fairly well, but they'd spent their car rides through Maxville forced to listen to their partners' rant and rave about the other.

"I'm telling you, these trees are fifty years old, at least! I had a unit here when they first opened in the seventies; these trees weren't here! Why would anyone put a tree next to a damn storage unit?"

"Fisher, stop. Please, just... stop," Mia said, a weary sigh escaping as her partner looked ready to take up his rant again.

Her headache threatened to bloom into a migraine and Mia rubbed her temples, wondering if she'd still had any paracetamol in her bag. She was glad Monty and Tyrone were talking with the storage unit owner and not witnessing this; she knew that Tyrone would report Fisher's delusions to Chief before they even left the place.

"You don't believe me?" Fisher asked.

"No, Fisher, I don't. Not every case links back to Bettendorf and Peace! I've gone through two boxes of cold cases showing that they don't! It's not physically possible for them to be in two places at once! We have evidence that they were heading to the Hive when the storm happened, remember?" Mia snapped, reaching her limit.

Fisher had checked the fact for himself while they were driving to the storage unit, using the precinct's trial access of the Super Bureau's facial recognition service, muttering about the slow connection and how invasive the whole thing was. Mia had ignored him and concentrated on driving, though she startled when he cursed on seeing Layla and Warren on a bus to the Hive when the storm had hit.

He obviously wasn't listening to her as he muttered, "I've got a photo of the unit. Somewhere," Fisher added, trying to remember which album had the grainy black and white photo.

"Fine. You find the photo, I'll believe you. Until then, you have to stop obsessing over these kids. It's a new case, nothing to do with either of them, okay?" Mia said, using the gentle voice she used for victims and her grandmother.

"We've found out the owner of the storage unit," Monty called, coming over with Tyrone.

"Greta Auden. Her next of kin is Layla Williams, though Auden's trying to get that revoked in court since she was adopted by Frieda Bettendorf," Tyrone announced.

Mia mentally face palmed as Fisher's eyes lit up at the names.

"Third time's a pattern, kid! Come on, I'm driving!" Fisher called, already on his way to the car.

"You sure you should be doing that, Fisher? You crashed pretty bad last time," Tyrone called after him.

"You sound worried; you getting soft, Tyrone?" Fisher called, laughing a touch too wildly for Mia's liking, Monty sending her a sympathetic look.

Still, she headed after her partner and as she sat in the passenger seat, Mia sent up a fervent prayer that they wouldn't crash again. Thinking about it for a moment, Mia added, and not into a damn tree again.

...

"He'll be all right. There's no brain damage, and his muscles seem to be responding correctly. He fractured an arm due to muscle contractions with the electrical torture, and I'd like to do another check-up on his legs later in the week. They weren't fractured, but he may injure himself if he doesn't take it easy for a few weeks," Ida said. "The anaesthetic should wear off in about fifteen minutes. He'll be disoriented and probably in shock after everything those women did to him. Yes, you can go in," she added when Connor looked over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Ida," Connor said, enveloping her in a tight hug, letting go abruptly. "Sorry, I should've asked first - "

"It's fine, Connor. Go in and see him. I should probably look after Terrence; the poor boy fainted when he saw the blood from the IV."

"I forgot he doesn't like blood; I'll get someone to carry him to a room. If anyone's awake," Robin added, looking exhausted and yawning widely.

"I'll do it," Ry said, standing and stretching, cracking his back and rolling his shoulders.

"Thanks, Ry," Robin said, waiting outside as Ry slipped past Ida and returned a moment later with Terrence in his arms. "Pretty sure he's asleep now," they murmured, tempted to poke Terrence just in case.

Terrence snored gently as Ry adjusted him in his arms, as though proving Robin's point.

"Has he chosen a room yet?" Ry asked, heading down the hallway with Robin.

"Yeah, a few down from Adam's one. Says the sound of his typing is relaxing, like we don't all know the truth," Robin said with a snicker.

"What truth?" Ry asked, yawning.

"That Terrence is crushing on Adam like crazy?"

"Oh, yeah, that. This his room?"

"Yup. Plonk him down, he's too tired to feel a thing. I'm going to - ah, shit."

"What?"

"My room's near where Layla and Warren are working on Greta. Have they finished yet?"

"Dunno. Haven't checked," Ry said, setting Terrence on the bed gently and covering him with a blanket before following Robin down to the end of the hallway where Greta, Layla, and Warren were.

"Nope, they're not done," Robin said, stopping short in the doorway. "Did you have to get so much blood everywhere?"

"We had to get the vines out manually," Layla said with a smile.

Ethan snorted. "You didn't have to, you just wanted to."

"That, too."

"Do you still have Cara?" Robin asked, Ethan nodding in response.

"Craig, Jewel, and Grant went to sleep; they'll work on her in the morning."

"Is she still freaking out?" Ry asked.

Ethan shook his head. "Not anymore. She fought back an hour or so ago, so I separated her limbs."

"That sounds seriously painful," Robin said with a wince.

"That's the point," Zach said, snickering.

"How's Victor?" Ethan asked, Warren pausing in the flames that he added to Greta's body.

"He's under anaesthetic, so fine for now, though he should be awake soon. Papa's with him," Ry said.

"We'll visit in the morning."

"It's morning now," Robin pointed out.

"Morning when there's sunlight, then," Warren amended, rolling his eyes.

"That's just a technicality," Layla said, yawning widely. "Eth, can you melt her? No need to carry her, you need to sleep."

"Leave Cara here, too," Warren said.

Ethan rolled his shoulders, rejoining Cara's body before drawing her out of his body, a puddle of water on the floor. Greta turned to a puddle of water with a touch, and Robin created two small craters in the floor to hold them in place.

"Thanks. We'll see you in the morning," Warren said, guiding Layla out to go to their room.

"G'night," Zach said around a wide yawn, Ethan almost sleepwalking beside him.

"You're not sleeping, are you?" Ry asked once the others had left, grinning when both Layla and Warren looked to him in surprise. "Those were the fakest yawns I've seen, like, ever."

"I want to see if I can boil Greta," Warren said, shrugging.

Ry laughed. "All right. Don't boil all of her; the others would be pissed if they didn't get a chance to thank her."

"Fine, I'll do it tomorrow then. She might lose a kidney or something. 'Night Ry."

"Night," he said, going to his room.

Warren and Layla did the same, closing the vine curtain firmly behind them.

"Damn, I was looking forward to testing that out," Layla said, curling up against Warren's chest.

"Tomorrow, hippie. They're not going anywhere," Warren promised, kissing the crown of her head before trying to calm his heart and mind so he could sleep.

... ...

"What do you say we start with, hippie?" Warren asked, wrapping his arms around Layla's stomach and pressing a hot kiss to her neck.

She smiled at the warmth from his lips and curled her fingers around his hands, her nails digging in painfully. Warren's hiss of pain soon turned to a soft moan of pleasure as she thought about all of the things they could do together, her feelings swirling on his wrist.

"I say we get the vines out. Manually," Layla said, letting go of Warren and splaying her hands in front of them, thorns growing from her fingernails.

Greta's eyes widened in fear as Warren laughed, low and evil.

"Oh, very nice. You've been working on your evil laugh, haven't you?"

Warren smiled at Layla's praise and nodded. "I didn't think I'd get a chance to use it so soon," he said.

"Well, it definitely sounded evil. Look at those goosebumps. You're terrified, aren't you, Greta?"

Greta snarled against the gag in her mouth, glaring at the two teens.

"We're back. We've got the rope that hurts. Like, really hurts. Eth won't even use it on me," Zach said, handing over a coil of black rope.

"You haven't needed it yet," Ethan corrected, drawing out other implements from his body: a scalpel, several knives, a hacksaw, and an electric drill.

"Are we torturing her or building a cabinet?" Warren snickered.

"You can do both if you want," Ethan said with a shrug. "Do you want plastic on the floor to clean up?"

"No. That's too much like Victor's torture. This can soak into the dirt; blood's good for the plants," Layla said with a smile.

"You've probably poisoned your blood, you old bitch," Zach muttered.

Greta was too busy trying to think of ways to escape that she barely heard the conversation around her.

"Tone the glow down, Zach; you can blind her later," Warren said.

"Ooh, awesome! I've been wanting to see how my full power works against retinas. Do you think Terrence can make one of those machines to scan eyes?"

"We can use a magnifying lens and bright light to see how her retinas respond later. Quiet now, I want to watch," Ethan said, sitting on the chair Layla created for him, tugging Zach onto the one beside him.

Zach and Ethan watched as Layla picked her way through the collection of weapons they'd brought for her.

"Zach, I'm not using a kitchen knife. Warren uses them for cooking," Layla said, frowning.

"I can buy more, hippie. Though if we do use those, they're staying down here. I don't want to get them mixed up," Warren said with a grimace.

Zach tried not to snort. Warren was going to purposely murder someone but he wouldn't dare cook with a bloodied knife.

Layla decided to use her power, after all; it would be so much more satisfying to know that the woman was dying because of her power. Heating the thorns growing from her fingernails, Layla looked at Greta and smiled.

Bound to the wall by tree roots, Greta shuddered at the sight of her smile and prayed for someone, anyone, to save her. She'd go back to church and pray every day. Unless she was busy or forgot or didn't feel like it. She would even think about converting to Super Religion if she was saved by a superhero. She'd even deal with the Commander's idiocy if it meant she was saved, which Greta thought was quite generous, really.

Despite her promises and pleas, there was no saviour or rescue, no crash of noise that depicted the Commander breaking into this god-awful place. She was going to die here and be used as goddamn fertiliser.

Layla smiled and plunged five white-hot thorns into Greta's chest, the woman screaming in pain against her gag.

"Poison, heat, or a combination?" Warren asked Layla softly.

"Ooh, I didn't think of poison. Let's do that next," Layla said excitedly, withdrawing her thorn nails, blood dripping from the tips.

"Want to take it in turns?" Warren asked, Layla nodding. He grinned and kissed her firmly, ignoring the gagging sounds from Zach behind them.

Greta would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't too afraid to blink. She needed to stay awake, stay alert, and watch for an opening. They would make a mistake sooner or later and she would exploit it. She would escape and call the police. No, the Army! She'd call the Army and they'd bring tanks and guns and destroy this whole place, as well as the freaks of nature inside it.

Warren pulled away from Layla, stepping back and lighting his hands and forearms on fire. He grinned at Greta's wide-eyed expression, throwing fireball after fireball at her prone body, relishing in her screams of pain. He'd wanted to do this and so much more for what felt like years. In his mind, he could still see the red imprint of a hand on Layla's cheek, the look of distraught on her face when she thought she'd have to go to a super boarding school, the hurt and anger when she'd found out that Greta had stolen and sold her mother's jewellery, the way she'd claim to have forgotten she was a vegetarian and cook meat and other animal products on purpose, the snide remarks Greta made about her mother and her life choices as an activist or vegan or both.

There were hundreds of other examples that made his anger grow and his fire burn hotter and it wasn't until Layla put a hand on his arm that he stopped.

"Sorry, hippie," Warren said.

He had internalised so much heat that flames spilled from between his lips and he swallowed hard, a burn running down his throat with his action.

"No need to apologise. We want this to last, so you needed to stop before she turned to ash. Take out some of the heat?" Layla asked, glancing at Ethan and Zach who were still watching intently.

Warren nodded and stepped forward. Burns littered Greta's body, her clothes melted and charred, the gag in pieces, and even the tree roots holding her were blackened. Warren put a hand on her forearm, drawing out the excessive heat and carefully healing the larger burns he'd created.

Greta breathed deeply as she felt her body heal, the pain fading as the burns were retracted from her skin. It wasn't natural. The power itself wasn't natural, but then to remove it so thoroughly? That was just as much of an abomination. She wouldn't say anything about it, though, not while she wanted to live.

"Better?" Warren asked, looking over his shoulder to Layla.

They'd made their mistake.

Greta was healed and had the willpower and strength to break the weakened root binding her, lift her leg and kick him in the crotch. She ignored the feeling of satisfaction as he dropped to the ground in pain, wrenching her arms out of the blackened roots on her arms, and running towards the door.

Vines blocked the door before she'd made it five steps and she stopped abruptly in two more steps when Zach stood in front of her.

"What do you think you're going to do to me, you twig?" she sneered at him.

Zach grinned and glowed. Layla realised what he was going to do and large leafy shields grew in front of her, Warren, and Ethan to protect them from the light he emitted.

Greta screamed in pain as her eyes were literally blinded by the light. The vines behind Zach faded away to nothing, the room around her darkened, and the bright light in front of her was all that she could see until she couldn't see anything anymore.

"Fuck. Next time, we're using something they can't get out of," Warren said with a low groan, standing with a pained wince.

"I doubt that there is any binding that could stop your power, especially when you're that angry. Except maybe a power repressing cuff," Ethan mused.

"Yeah, well, I'll find something," Warren muttered.

"Are you all right?" Layla asked, cupping his face in her palm.

"I'll live."

Layla smiled and kissed him firmly. "She won't."

Warren grinned and sat on a seat, content to watch for now. The vines disappeared from the doorway and Layla manoeuvred Greta with her vines until she was upright once more. Zach was testing Greta's response to his light, asking Ethan about melting down eyeballs and other specific body parts.

"I've never tried to melt just one part of my body. Or anyone else's. I'll work out the logistics and start practising if I think it's viable."

Zach grinned. "Awesome."

"You didn't think that through, did you, Greta? Where did you think you were going to go? This whole place is built from my power; it's surrounded by forests that I've created; it's filled with friends who wouldn't let you leave, no matter how much you begged or pleaded. What did you think you were going to do?"

"You're monologuing," Ethan prompted Layla, who grimaced at the realisation.

"Thank you, Ethan. The point still stands: you're not escaping or leaving this place alive," Layla snapped, a thin and seemingly innocent sapling wrapping around Greta and squeezing tightly, making her gasp for air even as her body was slowly poisoned by the bark and leaves, seeds bursting against her skin.

"Strychnos nux-vomica, right?" Warren asked, Layla confirming with a pleased nod.

"She used pesticide on my plants, it's only fair that I return the favour," she said, watching as Greta started to convulse as the strychnine poison flowed through her body.

Unlike the poison at the golf range, strychnine worked faster with Layla's help and didn't have the implications of being seen by Greta's friends or a doctor. The poison ran through her veins, stark against her pale skin, and pulsed through her body. Greta let out a low moan as her body felt like it was on fire, sweat forming on her face even as she shivered uncontrollably against the force of the poison in her system.

Layla watched coldly as the poison spread through Greta's body, aiming for the tiny target of her heart. Then, just before it reached her heart and killed her entirely, Layla gripped her forearm and drew the poison back out very slowly to make the pain linger.

"Don't do another poison for at least an hour; there will still be trace amounts in her body and she'll either puke or die. Either way, I doubt you want that to happen," Ethan piped up.

"Boiling it out of her system will work, won't it?" Warren asked, his hands covered in intense blue flames in an instant.

"I don't know what boiling a person's blood will do, and honestly, I don't want to know," Zach said, looking vaguely green.

"Layla could try," Ethan said. "You've got more control over the fire now, don't you?"

Layla and Warren stared at Ethan. Zach snickered into his fist at their expressions.

"You thought we didn't know? We've been selling hydrangeas that Warren made and your flames are lighting the hallways, Layla. We recognise your power, remember?" Ethan said, touching his branded shoulder.

"What the... Honey! Where is she?" Warren muttered.

"She's sleeping in the dining room," Adam informed them from their phones. "She said not to worry and to look out for Greta. She's going to try to steal your phone."

"I'll melt them down," Ethan offered.

Layla shook her head. "I'm curious to see how she'll get our phones. She's not getting down from there this time."

"That's stupid."

"Rude, Zach."

"I'm being honest, not rude. You're thinking like a hero, not a villain. You think Jetstream would think someone could escape her while she's flying?" Zach asked, looking between Layla and Warren. "She'd be cocky that no one could get out or escape her, but someone like Ethan or even Magenta could shift and get away. I mean, splattered guinea pig isn't going to be pretty, but she'd still get away. Eth would totally survive," he added proudly.

Layla considered his argument for a moment, eyeing Greta's prone form and wondering if the old woman really could escape again. She sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket, handing it to Ethan. "You're right, Zach. I was being cocky and not taking her desperation to live into account. Thank you."

"Always happy to tell you when you're being stupid," Zach said with a grin.

Ethan took Warren's offered phone as well, melting them both down and adding them to his neck. "My arms are getting full," he said in explanation when they looked at him. "If I add too much, I'll start bloating and it's uncomfortable."

"A whole person is too much?" Warren asked incredulously. "You carried Andy's family here under stressful conditions when you could have been caught by agents."

Ethan frowned. "That's a valid point. I think I'm adding my own mental limitations on my power. I need to practice more and go outside of my comfort zone."

"Speaking of practice: can we get the vines out manually now?" Warren asked, grinning as a vine slithered around his forearm.

"After you," Layla said, offering a knife to him.

Warren took it, kissed Layla heatedly, then plunged the knife into Greta's body, her scream muffled by a leaf around her mouth.

"You're just going to butcher her if you keep doing that," Ethan said, shaking his head.

"I think that's kinda the point, Eth," Zach said, grinning.

Warren dragged the knife down Greta's body, green showing beneath the red. Layla manipulated the vine, thorns dragging against the open wound as she drew it out with her power. Warren was more impatient and grabbed at the vine, tugging it fiercely, Greta screaming in pain.

"I need to add antibacterial soap in the bathrooms," Ethan mused.

Zach snorted. "Only you would see someone being tortured in a bloody way and think about soap, Eth."

"I also thought about heart attack symptoms differing between men and women. The vine's close to her heart, it could trigger an attack," he added in explanation.

A long curl of the vine was sitting at Greta's feet by the time Layla and Warren were satisfied. Patches of green were visible through open wounds scattered over Greta's body, the vines in her body closing up the wounds so she wouldn't die so soon.

"Nope, they're not done," Robin said from the doorway, Ry behind them.

...

End of the hundred and sixteenth chapter.

Thanks for reading; hope you liked it!