'I really thought you'd agreed to stop this.'

Beca pursed her lips, taking a final, ashamed glance across the cafe.

'God knows how I'm supposed to explain this,' added Aubrey, glaring at the younger brunette. 'The windows are bust. It looks like a robbery.'

'Looks worse than that,' said Chloe from her position on a table, next to two broken, upturned chairs and an unconscious, coffee-stained businessman. 'Looks like you killed everyone.' She shrunk back at the sharp look she'd been thrown. 'Sorry.'

'Somehow I have to alter everyone's memory, including the people who walked past, and the fucking police. All I wanted was a latte.' Aubrey placed her hands firmly on Beca's shoulders and moved her to the left, surveying the damage. Most of the tables had either been broken or upturned, with many chairs in the same state; the customers and staff were mostly unconscious and those who had been drinking were covered in whatever high-caffeine drink they'd bought. The coffee machine had exploded, and milk was dripping from the ceiling.

'I didn't mean to,' Beca piped up suddenly.

'I know,' responded the blonde, exhaustion evident in her voice. 'Just … let me clean up.'

'Oh, this is my favourite bit!' Chloe jumped from the table, grinning reassuringly at Beca.

'Yeah, well, it's not mine,' snarked Aubrey, sighing sharply and resuming her focus on the disaster she'd been forced to witness.

Slowly, the tables turned themselves the correct way, repairing the coffee stains and cracks as they did so. The chairs followed suit, and the ceiling dried itself without much fuss. The glass from the broken coffee machine picked itself up from the floor and connected firmly back where they belonged; all the while Aubrey's steady, solid hands guided them with smooth, flowing movements. She knew they would obey.

With people, the movements were more cautious, careful. People were spontaneous and unpredictable, and to underestimate their ability to resist would prove dangerous.

The businessman sat up on the floor as the coffee stains lifted from his jacket. The baristas almost came to, and the shards of china that they had lain in relaxed; their hands healed bit by bit. Aubrey left four broken mugs on the floor, a deep crack beneath the spot behind the counter where they had once sat on the shelf.

'The ground trembled,' she spoke loudly to them. 'You can't remember what happened. You think it might've been a gas leak.'

'We need to get out of here, Bree,' murmured Beca, her hand reaching urgently for the blonde's sleeve.

'I know, little one,' she responded. 'Let's go home.'

'Will they know it was me?' she asked timidly.

Aubrey did not answer but instead guided her towards the door. Chloe followed behind.

The atmosphere had suddenly become melancholy.

Time did not start again until they had reached the underground. Flashing her Oyster card at the bored guard, the blonde hurried them down the escalators and onto the first train they could catch. Staring at the Bakerloo line map, Aubrey huffed and glanced at the passengers: four American tourists; a Japanese businessman; a Muslim woman and her two sons; a bald man in shorts and a t-shirt. She glanced at the Americans again. One of them had his earphones dangling around his neck, and another was wearing a cap with the Green Bay Packers logo.

Tensing, she laid a hand on Chloe's knee. 'Get off at Charing Cross,' she mouthed.

Beca made a noise of confusion at getting off a stop early, but didn't question it; instead, she trailed sluggishly along behind them.

'She's overwhelmed and probably exhausted,' hissed Chloe. 'If we don't get back soon, we'll have a repeat of what happened at the cafe. Why did we get off?'

'Elite Order on the tube,' explained Aubrey quickly. 'The Americans. We'll get the Northern from here.'

'Get off at Waterloo and take the Jubilee?' clarified the redhead. 'And then the Overground?'

'They can't catch us, Chloe. Not after what's just happened.'

'It's just a long way 'round. Why not just change at Embankment like we were going to?'

Aubrey's breath shook. 'I can't risk it, Chlo. Not with Beca.' Suddenly her head turned. 'Where is Beca?' She glanced around wildly, her heart dropping for more than a second, until, with great relief, she spotted the tiny girl sat on a bench, half-asleep.

They approached her and Chloe shook her gently. 'Come on, firecracker. We need to go.'

'I'm tired,' she whined, her face scrunching up, looking at the two through blearily, exhausted eyes.

'She's drained, Aubs,' said Chloe desperately.

'We need to get her home,' Aubrey repeated.

'And what if we can't? What then?'

Aubrey ran a hand through her hair. Chloe was right. It was going to be almost impossible to get Beca home in this state.

'Can't you do your time thing? Get us there quicker, maybe give Becs a bit of leeway?'

'It's easier to track us, then. Besides, they weren't on that train coincidentally. No doubt they knew we were there, so they've got one up on us regarding my time freezing.' She shook her head. 'Teleportation, I shouldn't wonder.'

Beca whined lowly from her position on the bench, having leant into Chloe's shoulder only a few minutes prior. The redhead rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, unsure of what to say.

'What if we ask someone … tell them she's sick?'

Aubrey glared at her. 'Chloe, what's our number one rule?'

'Don't talk to people,' she responded with a resigned sigh. 'In case they're the Elite Order.' She looked back at Beca, whose face was pale, eyes barely open. 'We have to do something, Aubrey.'

'If only Stacie was here,' the blonde sighed wistfully. 'She could help.'