First things first, Dan had to calm his distraught girlfriend. Abby might have seemed calm during their brief phone call, but Dan knew her well enough to understand how worried she was. The girl preferred to do her hand-wringing after the fact, pushing down and packing away all her negative emotions until danger had passed, upon which she would pop like an angry, belligerent balloon. Dan had done something stupid and reckless, and it was time to take his lickin' like a man.

After arriving back home, and collapsing in a heap on his couch, Dan took a brief minute to simply be. His hands, he noticed, were shaking. But not from nerves, or fear, or anxiety. It was the simple biological consequence of adrenaline. The crash that he'd expected to happen upon finally having a moment to himself never came about. There was no oncoming train loaded up with stress, roaring into the station of his mind. There was no epiphany or revelation, no moment of prayer to the heavens that thank God he was alive. He just was. Calm, and steady.

"Huh," Dan said, more alarmed by this revelation than he'd been for the entirety of his brief imprisonment. It was possible that he was better equipped to deal with this whole danger thing than he'd expected. Or maybe he was just so used to his life going pear-shaped that bad things barely even registered anymore.

Neat.

But he was putting off something important. Dan pulled out his phone, and dialed in Abby's number. She picked up before the first ring even finished.

"Are you okay?" she demanded urgently, her voice still somehow calm. "I found a good lawyer. Should I send him over?"

"I'm okay," Dan replied quickly. "Bartholomew is in custody, and I made it out safe. No lawyer necessary. Connor's uncle let me off."

"Good. Good. That's good." She took a long, deep breath, and Dan mentally braced himself.

"What were you thinking, going back there!?" she bellowed into the phone at a volume that Gregoir would applaud.

Dan winced, opened his mouth to reply, and was immediately cut off.

"You were clever, and lucky, and got away clean, but did you call the cops? Noooo!" The drawn out denial raised in pitch until Dan was pretty sure that he could hear glass shattering in the background. "You figured now was a great time to settle a grudge, and you went back!"

"In fairness, I did, technically, call the police," Dan pointed out meekly.

Abby made a sound like a yowling cat dropped into a bathtub.

"Sorry, dear," he added.

"Next time," she spat, emphasizing every word, "next time, and their better not be a next time, but next time, you run away and stay runned away! Okay!?"

"I'm sorry Abs," Dan repeated. "I just... I got so damn angry, and I wasn't thinking straight. He hurt Connor, and all those people in that apartment complex. He needed to go down."

"Why did I fall for someone with a hero complex?" Abby loudly lamented from somewhere beyond the mouthpiece. Dan could almost picture her, both hands covering her face, looking skyward in irritation.

Dan smiled at the image. "At least I got the guy."

There was a long pause on the other end, and Dan clenched up, worried that he'd misread the mood. But then, "Did you give that bastard the beat down that he deserved?"

Dan's smile widened. He'd failed to mention any specifics on Bartholomew's condition when he'd given her the rundown on his situation. Now that he was home free, he could brag a little.

"He won't be walking for a while," Dan admitted.

Was it odd that he felt little more than grim satisfaction at basically crippling a man? As far as Dan was concerned, Andros Bartholomew had more than earned his injuries. When Dan had first arrived, he'd been a little appalled at how casually violent this parallel could be. He could see it now, how easy it was to slip into that mindset. Even recognizing the change in his thoughts, he wasn't sure if it was wrong. Not here, at least. After all, Bartholomew was still alive. The man was better off than he would've been had the police found him first.

"Good," Abby replied, some vicious approval leaking into her tone. "I'm glad. And I'm glad you're okay. Even if you're a reckless idiot who should never ever do that again."

"I'll keep it in mind," Dan promised.

"You better. I'll be back in town tomorrow, and I expect to find you in one piece."

He nodded, more to himself than her. "Of course."

"Good." She paused for a moment, then added, firmly, "I love you."

Dan's smile turned soppy. "Love you too, Abs. See you soon."

"And don't forget to check in with your teacher!" she added. "Or he'll call for a search party about two hours too late!"

"Yeah."

Click.

And that was that.

Dan sighed, relaxing into his couch. Next up was Tawny.

A thought occurred to him, and he flipped on the television. Crystal projectors hummed into life, and cast light across the wall. The local news channel sprang to life; the two hosts' almost painfully beautiful faces were twisted into worried grimaces as cloying black smoke billowed in the background. They weren't on site, though they appeared to be superimposed on top of the scene. Police, firefighters, first responders and volunteers of all kinds swarmed like bees in the background, cast in red and blue, pulsing in the dim light of their sirens.

"—have still not determined the cause of this outbreak. No demands have been made, and no villain organizations have taken credit. For now, we can only assume that this was some sort of experiment gone horribly wrong. The spread, at least, has finally been stopped, after a grueling two and a half hours," the male host said solemnly. "The Fairmont apartment complex has been completely destroyed, along with its neighbor Fairheights."

"The casualty figures are still coming in," his co-host continued, "but we estimate less than a dozen dead so far, thanks to the heroic efforts of our public servants and certified volunteers!"

There were cheers in the background at that, someone in the studio or on site having overheard her, and deciding to add their two cents. Dan stared at the television for a moment, then teleported to his front yard. He reappeared, still in socks, on his lawn. It was dusk. Night had fallen. Yet in the distance, he could make out a massive pillar of smoke, drifting steadily upward. The massive clouds that had started to cover the city, however, had dissipated. True to his word, Andros Bartholomew had created environmentally friendly acid smog. The absolute bastard.

Dan glanced down at his cell phone, still clutched in his hand, and made a call. It took almost thirty seconds for Tawny to answer. The man's voice was hoarse, and he coughed several times, before asking, "Daniel, did you just butt dial me?"

"Ah, no sir," Dan stuttered quickly. "I'm not actually on site right now, and I wanted to let you know, so that you don't worry when you can't find me."

"You're not— What happened?"

"I took a bad tumble when the first apartment came down, and banged my head," Dan explained. "I started feeling dizzy, and I think I breathed in too much of that smoke, because I basically passed out. I managed to teleport to my bed at home, but I only just woke up."

"You've been gone since Fairmount went down?!" Tawny yelped. "That... that was over two hours ago! And Hector didn't even notice! Of all the irresponsible..." The officer dissolved into a long stream of disgruntled insults directed towards the man who was ostensibly Dan's supervisor. He felt a little bad about the heat the officer would get for this, but the man had spectacularly failed at his job. Though, the circumstances probably excused him somewhat.

"He probably just assumed I got scooped up by another group," Dan offered halfheartedly. "I had another volunteer shouting instructions at me for a bit, when things got hectic. Though I passed out pretty quickly after that." Dan studiously failed to mention that the volunteer was Matilda. Better that Tawny stay far, far away from whatever was going to happen to the woman.

He heard a deep sigh coming from his teacher. "Daniel, I have to tell you that returning to your house was tremendously irresponsible. This smoke has a known corrosive effect. The fact that we haven't observed it effecting living beings does not exclude the possibility. You should have, at the least, gone to a hospital. The proper procedure would have been to report to our own medical tents, in case a quarantine was necessary."

"Sorry sir," Dan replied, trying not to feel bitter. "I'll keep that in mind for next time. I'm feeling a lot better now, though, and I see that you guys still need help out there. Should I come back?"

"No, no, absolutely not," Tawny replied immediately. "You're on bed rest. Better yet, report to your preferred doctor, and get a checkup, just in case. I'll be expecting you to present me with a bill of clean health next class. I'm counting that as a part of your final exam grade."

"Thanks professor," Dan said morosely. He hoped that Tawny wouldn't fail him over this. It felt distinctly unfair to take blame for something mostly out of his control, but such was life. Dan was well used to it by now.

"Take care of yourself, Daniel," Tawny added.

"Yes sir."

They ended the conversation there, with Dan promising to get a check up, and wishing his teacher luck in the aftermath of Bartholomew's attack.

He fell back into his couch, sinking in with a pleased sigh. More than anything, Dan felt relief that this particular trial was over. Andros Bartholomew was under arrest, and Matilda would soon follow. His identity was secure, more or less. Nobody knew about his involvement, except a man who was grateful for it. Everything was fine. At least for the moment.

He still owed Anastasia some work. She would call on him to open up the People's bases soon enough. Dan still felt guilty about what he'd inadvertently done to Connor, and possibly Freya. Atonement for that particular piece of carelessness would be a long time coming. And there was still the lingering question of Marcus, who had vanished with neither word nor trace.

But for now, Dan was okay. He'd made a difference today, and that was enough.

Something pinched at his ankle. A light scrape, a tickle, crawling up his thigh. Merrill's tiny face poked up over his knee. He grinned at the little mouse, extending a finger for her to latch on to. He raised her up to eye level, smiling fondly.

"Hey there, little one." She crawled down his hand, across his arm, and settled along his shoulder. "I'm sorry I haven't paid much attention to you lately."

The mouse nibbled at his ear, huffing softly. She was a fairly free-spirited creature, content to roam the house and keep herself entertained. He still kept her cage in his bedroom, but she'd taken to sleeping on the massive bed in the guest bedroom, tucking into the covers like a burrito with a tail. But they hadn't gone out in a long while, not like they used to.

Dan checked the time, then glanced at the tiny rodent riding his shoulder. "We've got a day to ourselves, before Abby gets back. What say we go find some mischief?"

Merrill chirped happily, climbing across his neck and dropping into the front pocket of his shirt. Dan sniggered to himself, then stood up and stretched. His city had a healthy night life. An active one, really. The strangest of people came out when the sun came down. Weird and beautiful. A city of oddities.

"Let's go explore," Dan decided.