"What do we do now?" I asked Ewan, feeling torn by the many conflicting demands on my attention.

"The people who haven't got out yet are the main concern. Gareth and Cobalt are tougher customers. Let's see how the others are getting on."

In the main auditorium we were surprised to find things wrapping up. Seb, Gaia and Wasp were ushering the last of the public out with grim expressions.

"Hey guys," Seb said, wincing as the stragglers flicked us suspicious looks on their way out. "Is everyone out front okay?"

"Physically, sure. Emotionally, not so much. They've taken a beating." I answered.

"A couple of them attacked Tempest," Ewan elaborated, giving my arm a squeeze.

Seb wrinkled his nose at the gesture, and then frowned. "That's not good. I'm guessing you're okay, but obviously this has really thrown them, just like Morgan wants."

"I wonder what his endgame is here. Surely it's more than just random chaos?" I mused. "What happened while we were gone?"

"Once Zeus here busted the doors open and people started flooding out, the Villains seemed to kind of give up," Gaia answered. "It was pretty weird."

"That teleporting idiot was too fast for us again," Seb grumbled. "He got all the other Villains out of here before we could nab any of them. None of us have seen Morgan since this began."

"Ugh, Dopey," I sighed. "Only good for one thing but damn if he isn't good at it. Lexa is safe, so that just leaves Cobalt and Gareth. I don't think Morgan would risk keeping Gareth here, so whatever he's done with him isn't something we can fix immediately. I don't know what he really wanted with Cobalt besides having a Super to parade around, so they might have left him here if he's served his purpose."

"Should we check backstage?" Wasp suggested, obviously keen to get in on the conversation.

"Seems logical," Gaia smiled at her, and something about its warmth made me wonder if I wasn't the only one with an intra team romance in the room.

No time to reflect on tender moments, though. We had a dumbass to rescue.

The immediate backstage area was devoid of any presence, dumbass or otherwise. We spent a bit of time roughing the place up, looking for any trace of him, before a thought struck me like a bolt of Seb's lightning.

"The lighting booth," I blurted out. "It's tucked away and pretty private."

"How do you know that?" Seb asked, crooking an eyebrow.

"Lexa hooked up with a tech guy there when she was assisting a show one time," I grinned slyly. "Nobody caught them."

He looked like he wished he hadn't asked, which made me laugh. "Come on heroes, there's more grunt work to do!" I encouraged sarcastically.

I made a mental note to tell Lexa what a genius she was when we saw the slumped over figure sprawled in the corner of the lighting booth.

Wasp checked his pulse. "It's a bit slow, but regular. Looks like he's probably been Poisoned."

"That's a pretty good shiner he's blossoming, probably decked for good measure too," Ewan added, not bothering to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

"Well, he is a big blockhead so it's not surprising that they needed a little extra," Seb remarked dryly. I did a bad job covering up a giggle.

I only felt a little bit guilty about it.

Gaia, a far more compassionate soul, knelt down and pressed her hands against his temples. "It's something I've been working on lately," she explained to our confused faces, "I think I might be able to draw the poison out faster and speed up healing. I didn't want to try it on your friend since I'm not sure yet how it would affect regular humans."

Sure enough, after a minute or two Cobalt began to stir.

"Urgh," he groaned, "where the hell am I?"

"Obviously not in tiptop shape," Seb quipped mercilessly. Free life lesson: never underestimate the pettiness of an ex's sibling.

Cobalt gave him a watery glare, rubbing his face blearily. "I'm guessing I'm not at the museum."

"What? No," I frowned at him, confused by the odd specificity of that.

He looked at me as if actually registering what was happening for the first time, eyes growing wide. He swore and sat up too quickly, a jolt of discomfort passing over his face. "I'm not at the museum! I'm supposed to be at the museum!" His eyes grew even wider as he spotted something over my shoulder. "They got Drakon too, huh? This is bad."

We all whirled to find a second sprawled figure in the opposite corner. We'd been so focussed on Cobalt that we hadn't noticed or even thought of a second abductee.

He was a Super I'd seen once or twice before, but never spoken to. Fiery, so to speak, presumably with a fondness for Classics and mythology. See also; Super nerd.

Gaia worked her magic on him and soon he emerged from his slumber, groaning.

He asked what was on everyone's mind. "What is happening right now?"

"I think that depends on what exactly you guys were doing before Morgan's friendly band of honey badgers got to you, " I said, a horrible feeling starting to radiate from my gut for the second time that night. The tense silence suggested I wasn't the only one.

"We were on guard duty for the amulet, and I guess we got blindsided. Last thing I remember was hearing Cobalt yell."

"Oh my god. We've been mega played by that diabolical maniac," I exclaimed, the horrible feeling blossoming into cold realisation. "Two things we know about Morgan: he wants that amulet, and he's planning an army of Villain minions. So this was a double-header evening for him. E," I said to a particularly stricken looking Ewan, "how fast can we get there?"

"Shouldn't we all go? What if they're still there?" Seb interjected.

"I'll know in a heartbeat whether that amulet's still in the museum. Enigma can keep us fast and camouflaged. If you guys are okay with cleaning things up on this end and getting started on finding Gareth, I think we can handle it." I was already grabbing his hand, hating the way that his fingers were slow to respond, like he was struggling in a waking nightmare.

We all were, if what we suspected was true.

The trip to the museum was quick and mostly silent. As we prepared to phase into the dark hulk, I squeezed his hand tighter. "You've probably told me this a dozen times recently, but this isn't your fault. No matter what we find in there."

He gave me a wan smile. "I'll try to believe you."

I felt it immediately as we neared the exhibition hall; the absence. It was somehow more jarring than the energy pull had been, clawing at my chest with its awful significance. A little hiss of breath escaped me, and Ewan's grip became almost painful.

"It's gone." He didn't phrase it as a question, and I didn't answer until we were standing in front of a dazzling void of a case, brilliant and gleaming in its new redundancy.

"Well, this sucks."

***

For someone with a tiring habit of showing up at my home, nobody seemed to know much about Gareth's life, including where he lived.

It took our crack team a not inconsiderable amount of time to break into Gareth's office and search for anything personally identifying. Finally, I spotted a magazine lying haphazardly under one of the filing cabinets, and pulled it out.

"Guys, looks like we have our big break here," I said, eyeballing the address printed in the corner for Gareth Davies, #23 145 South Lane. "He really should be more careful about bringing his..." I glanced at the title and snorted, "...'Model Trains Aficionado Monthly,' really? Of course that's what he does in his spare time. Look, this issue says 'steam into Fall!' Even their puns are lame."

"While definitely hilarious, we should probably focus more on getting to that address and finding Gareth before we make fun of his reading material and hobbies," Ewan reminded me, trying not to smile. He was holding up pretty well, all things considered.

"You are more than a pretty face, that's for sure," I responded, glad that his sense of humour hadn't taken a fatal blow.

A fiddling sound at the door made us all whirl, ready for anything.

To our immense surprise and relief, Gareth himself appeared, looking as though he'd run a marathon.

"Oh good, you're already here," he said wearily, plopping down into his chair, fingers to his temples.

"We were coming to find you," I offered dumbly, holding up the magazine, "by train."

"Model trains are a very fulfilling hobby, Tempest," he remarked with an air of offended dignity. "At any rate, you were saved the necessity by that unpleasant teleporting individual of my brother's, who arrived to untie me after I'd been ambushed and incapacitated by the even more unpleasant Poison. We really ought to get the lab working on an antidote. But that's not the main point now, is it? I'm here for you to tell me what, precisely, Brother Dearest has been up to tonight."

We looked anxiously at one another, all reluctant to play the messenger.

Ultimately, I decided to honour my traditions of telling Gareth what he didn't want to hear.

"Basically, 'Brother Dearest' has given us an all-inclusive cruise up shit creek, and we're all hoping that someone remembered a paddle."

:

WELL.

Things are looking down for the Scooby gang, huh?

If you're an evil asshole and your name is Morgan, though, all your garbage dreams are coming true!

In other news, we are beginning to move towards the end of this story.

"BUT WAIT," I hear you cry, "you have a million loose threads and it's only just getting juicy!!!" (I flatter myself that anyone cares enough to make this protestation)

To you, imaginary concerned reader, I tell you NEVER FEAR, for I DO plan to write a sequel at a time TBD and likely at my customary snail's pace. I have a few other projects I need to work on, but I know that Kenna and Co. will continue to call to me so it will happen, I promise.

THANK YOU for coming this far with me and the crew, we love you all!