"Oh my god," I whispered.

I could see bandages winding under Axel's left short sleeve. His hazel eyes looked sedated and drowned of much feeling, which sucked all the most vivid greens and golds from his irises. There was a red and purple mark running straight across his throat, he had a black eye, and he was hunched over like there was pain in his chest. His hair was also a bit shorter, but still scraggly and fluffed up off his forehead and pretty badly uneven.

Quinn had a massive black bruise around his right eye, almost the same color as the actual eye patch he wore over it. Some of the darkest blue parts clouded out from underneath the patch and spilled over onto his nose and cheekbones, staining them yellow like an evening sunset. His right arm was also slung across his body in a thickly layered cast and he was picking at where the strap wrapped over his shoulder. Oh shit. Quinn had a difficult time walking even with two eyes. Now with only one he was probably tripping over shit even more.

Blitz had a hand clutched over his upper ribs and his other on Cal's shoulder for balance while he charted his breathing. His blond mohawk hair was fizzed out all over the place, which heightened my concern since Blitz usually put basic health needs under keeping up his hair.

Next my eyes moved to Lautaro. The Honduran's tanned skin starkly contrasted with the white bandage that was wrapped around his head. The material went across his forehead and wrapped around the back of his head to keep a large plaster in place over his left ear. His hands were basically black they were covered in so much grease and dirt.

Lucky's thin black and spindly hair was drooping over his forehead too, and he stood completely on one leg while raising the other off the ground barely bent at his knee using Lautaro's shoulder for balance.

Then my eyes landed on Harrison, and my breath caught in my throat. All around his face and neck, red cuts littered his skin. Scratches cut across his cheeks, sliced through his eyebrows, zig-zagged across his forehead and a singular deep one slid over the bridge of his nose. His dark eyes shimmered with shame among the marks that would scar his face probably for the rest of his life. His hair was also shorter, no more dark brown waves to spring off his head in tufts. The chain that I could normally see slithering under the neckline of his shirt that held his parent's dog tags was also gone.

Cal at first glance didn't look too bad, just some bruising around his neck, then my eyes fell down to his hands, and I put my own hands over my mouth. On each hand his ring fingers were gone, and on his right hand his pinky was missing too. Little nubs were all that remained just a few centimeters from his knuckles. Cal worked with his hands, he was a doctor --a trained surgeon, actually. If he couldn't use his hands properly what could he do to help all the other boys with their injuries? I knew Cal, all he wants to do was help and if he couldn't do that... he was probably beating himself up over it.

Zach looked for the most part okay, at least physically. He had some cuts and bruises and favored some sides of his body, but definitely not as bashed up as the rest of the boys. But I seriously doubt being Flagg's nephew excluded him from mass torture so I'm sure there was something wrong with him deep beneath his stony persona and hard glare.

But Owen definitely looked the worst of everyone. He tried to balance with his left foot just off the ground and having all his weight on his right. His skin was paler than usual, his blue eyes were bloodshot and there were deep purple circles beneath and around them. His right eye had blood in the whites of it, his blond hair hung over his forehead, and there was fuzz lining his jawline and upper lip. He had bruises crawling up his neck and from the way he was bent over, the cut across his torso had probably been reopened again.

"You guys all look like shit," I said beneath my hands still covering my mouth. "I'm gone for a day and this happens?" I peeled my hands off my face to wipe them on my black jeans. "He tries to hurt my boys again and I'll fucking kill him."

All of them smiled a bit, but their pain quickly drowned the amusement from their faces.

"I'm presuming he doesn't know you guys are here?" All the boys shook their heads. "So... what's the plan then? Where's James?"

"Flagg kicked him out," Owen said. "But we managed to get his coordinates and he's in Boston."

"Don't suppose you managed to grab our passports on the way out of Denver, did you?" I asked hopefully.

"Sorry," Owen sighed, "but it's truck to train to truck to Boston. Should take about four days."

I raised my shoulders up to my ears and tried not to look at Axel. Not that he was looking at me. He was pretending to be a lot more transfixed with the ground.

Great. A whole four days.

A whole four days of both our hearts breaking for the same reason.

-

"Boston is huge guys!" Quinn shouted over the noise of the cars. "We're never gonna find him," he said quieter to Lautaro who walked next to him.

Owen purposely looked away from him and out into the sea of shimmering metal next to us.

Axel's bare arm brushed against my sleeve and for once I didn't flinch. We still hadn't spoken much, but I always made a point to know where he was around me at all times. Force of habit.

"You're really not cold?" I asked him. I extended the sleeves of my, his originally, sweatshirt over my wrists.

He didn't reply. The tips of his tree bark-brown hair shivered in the breeze the cars whizzing beside us picked up, but in just his t-shirt and jeans he never reacted to the nippy wind. His green eyes expertly scanned the crowded streets across the way from us and then the horizon. He never quickened his step, and you could never tell when he looked behind him from the subtlety of his movements. You couldn't see the knife he had on the inside of his waistband. You could never guess that the backpack he had slung over one shoulder carried various stolen government spy equipment. The perfect undercover agent in his natural habitat.

I looked away.

We scoured the city for hours, splitting up at times and then regrouping at others. Nobody spotted a sign of James. But we didn't know what we were even looking for. James could have just been here for a layover, and it had nothing to do with that this just so happened to be where Jinx was too. Logan International hosted a bunch of connecting flights to all over the world, and frankly if I were James, I would want to get as far away from Denver as possible.

"Hoffmann," Zach started. He turned around and his dark hair also got caught up in the wind. "We can't stay." He shoved his hands in the black hoodie he was wearing.

Owen ignored him, similarly clothed in a navy blue sweatshirt. He kept his blue eyes fixed out on the opposite side of the sidewalk.

The boys around me halted as well. Blitz put one hand on Cal's shoulder for balance while he tenderly rubbed his ribs. Quinn poked at his eyepatch strap with his good arm. Lucky collapsed against the brick wall we had stopped next to. Axel's eyes were starting to droop along with his shoulders, and he'd swallowed probably a dozen of the pain meds Cal had given him in the last two hours alone. His hands were also twitching and I knew it was because he was itching for a cigarette.

Cal gave Owen a sympathetic look. "We looked, we really did. But the longer we stay out in the open in a big city like this, the quicker Flagg could find us."

I had cut out the tracker in the back of my neck as soon as we left Texas, but that didn't mean we were entirely safe from Flagg.

The German continued to look away.

"You know I'm right. It isn't safe—"

Suddenly Owen froze. The tips of his white blond hair picked up in the wind and his light blue eyes widened, like a cat spotting its prey.

Then he bolted.

Miraculously he wasn't flat out hit, cars screeched to stops and horns blares as he cut his way across the bustling road.

"What the fuck Hoffmann?" Zach yelled over the echoes of horns.

Owen didn't look back as he tripped to the other side and sprinted towards a group of people who were just disappearing behind the corner. A hooded figure was slightly behind the group, and Owen straight up tackled them.

Like, American football player-style tackled. The two tumbled over each other until Owen landed on top of the mystery person.

The rest of us on the other side of the street stood completely in shock, Zach even with his mouth open.

Scrambling to his feet and hauling the figure up with him, Owen then tackled them again, except this time in a hug. The force of the gesture knocked the other person's hood off and revealed a teaming mass of a guy's mahogany-brown hair. And even stranger, he enveloped Owen in an equally tight embrace.

Finally the walking sign turned and those of us who could run ran across the street towards Owen and the other guy. He had his face buried in Owen's chest, and had his arms wrapped under Owen's. The German's back was to us but he looked to be resting his chin on the smaller boy's back as he clutched him even closer.

The rest of us arrived on the other side of the street right before the signal turned and more honking erupted among the swirling colors of metal.

Owen shoved the boy off of him and before we could even see the stranger's face he punched him right in the cheek.

"What the fuck did you do to your hair?!" He screamed at him.

The guy doubled over Owen had hit him so hard. He groaned and looked up, holding the cheek Owen had punched.

And holy shit. It was James. Just with... dark brown hair. Now that we were closer I could sort of see his natural red undertone, but holy shit. It just seemed so...wrong.

"Answer me!" Owen punched him again, this time in the mouth, and James almost fell to the pavement.

When he looked back up he had blood dripping from his lip. "I take it you're not a fan then?"

Owen swung at him again but James managed to duck. "Okay okay Jesus Christ!" He tried to glare at him but his gaze quickly softened. "I didn't realize you had such a redhead fetish." He grinned with his head tilted a little to the side.

Cal held Owen back from trying to sock him again. "Seriously Jay?" He shook off Cal's grip and extended a hand to ruffle the dyed hair on James' head. "Brown?"

"My hair is like a damn beacon Owen, and pretty much the entire state of Louisiana is looking for me. Would you have preferred bright green? Because I actually considered that."

Owen sighed.

"It'll fade out in like two months," James offered, slinging an arm around the German's shoulder casually. "And isn't brunet me better than no me at all?"

"I guess," Owen muttered, still squinting at James' hair. He ran his fingers through the tufts by the younger boy's ears and scrunched up his nose a little.

James wriggled away from his touch. "I am so feeling the love right now. First you punch me, then you admit that you were only with me 'cause of my looks? Hurtful." He pouted.

"You know that's not true. Your hair just...sealed the deal." The two agents grinned at each other and James pulled himself in closer.

"So," Harrison said, rocking back on his heels. "Boston." He looked around us at the tall buildings and bustling urban sidewalks. "Any reason for this city specifically...?"

James snuffed a breath out his nose. "The only person I know outside of the agency lives here."

Harrison sighed deeply. "Great."

"You wanna see her, don't lie," Axel nudged his best friend with his good shoulder.

James smiled widely. "Shall we?"

"Yes!" I nodded furiously.

"Yeah I wanna see Percy again!" Quinn added.

"Awesome," James chuckled. He gestured to the way he had been going before Owen has tackled him. "The college is down there."

We started down the street he'd indicated while he stayed back with Owen for a moment.

"Are you guys coming?" Lucky called over his shoulder.

"Yeah one sec," Owen said, before latching his fingers around James' shirt collar and pulling the ex-redhead into his lips. James made a surprised noise as soon as their lips meant, but then he put one of his hands at the back of Owen's neck and pulled him closer. We could see Owen smirking when the ex-redhead kissed him back just as feverently.

"Awe," I cooed. I grinned up at Axel, and for the first time in five days he actually smiled just the slightest bit back.

After several hot seconds Owen finally let James go. The new brunet blinked in shock for a while. "Wow."

"Speechless, are we mein schöner jay?" Owen grinned.

James tripped over his words, "that's—that's not the word I would use."

The rest of us turned away and let them grin at each other.

"What did he say?" Lautaro asked quietly as we walked away.

"In German? It means 'my beautiful jay,'" Cal said. His lips stretched into a smile too.

I stuck both hands into the single pocket of Axel's sweatshirt that I was wearing. Or, really my sweatshirt now.

I'd been wearing it since we snuck onto the first cargo train in Tennessee, but it didn't smell like him much anymore. Besides the cigarettes. But that was only because he went through a pack a day and it was just in the air and not because we sat next to each other. We didn't even look in the same direction the entire ride to Boston.

But I asked for that.

So now I have to deal with it.

-

We heard muffled swearing and then individual ticks of the lock click free by keys. The door opened and Jinx pushed her way through, balancing a stack of books in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. Her glasses were teetering on her face, and her backpack was weighing her down on one side since she had it slung over only one shoulder. A pencil was clenched horizontally in her mouth and a red and black checkered bandana wound around her head and tied at the back of her neck, leaving her dark brown hair to cascade down her back.

She managed to shove the stack of books, papers and notebooks onto the small table by the door, and then shut the door with her foot. She dropped her shoulder and her backpack slipped off and hit the wooden floor with a surprisingly dense thud. She took the pencil out of her mouth and then she looked up.

She swore so bad even Blitz raised his eyebrows. The mug slipped from her hand and dark coffee spilled everywhere.

She raked her hands down each side of her face. "Are you kidding me?" She cried, looking around at all of us. "Again? Seriously? No! I've got a synthesis essay on fucking job automation I gotta bullshit for a class tomorrow morning! And a bigass report on halogens atomic structure due in about 19 hours, which of course my dumb ass hasn't even started yet!" She took her hands off her face and tightened them around her chest. "And that was my good mug too damnit." She glanced down at the dark coffee that was beginning to seep around the floor. Lucky got down on his knees and started to mop it up with the tissues that were on her work desk.

"Wha...what...why? You're all back? What the hell? What the hell are you guys doing here? How the hell did you even get in here? James Strider I swear to god I leave you alone for like two hours!" She sounded exasperated. Zach started to reply but she added, "wait hold it." She turned to James. "You were tagged weren't you?" She asked flatly. He nodded. "Fanfuckingtastic."

"I didn't invite them!" James said. "And the tracker is out now."

Jinx glared at him. "I don't get it. You could've just sent Owen and filmed the reunion, set it in slow motion, put Can You Feel The Love Tonight in the background, sent it to me to fawn over, and then watch them fly away into the sunset." She shrugged. "That's what I would have done."

"No, he punched me instead," James said, rubbing his jaw.

"Not a fan of the hair right?" Jinx asked Owen.

Owen smacked James upside the head. "Not particularly, no."

Zach was leaning against the sill of the one window that was in the room. "Our agency got turned into a prison. That's why we all look like shit."

"I promise that was my next question," Jinx assured us quickly, "your guys' well being is only slightly behind my anxiety of getting caught having 11 wanted secret spy agents in my dorm. Like just a smidge behind it."

"The point is, we had to get out of there," Zach started again, "he sent Adira to a government prison in Texas, and he basically tortured the rest of us. We came here to regroup, and then go after Basilone and his bombs at the source. We're targeting his factory in Tunisia. If we don't, a lot of innocent people are gonna die."

"Yeah, they're always 'innocent,'" Jinx rolled her eyes. "All I know is that I'm not feeding your asses again. And that includes liquor." She squinted at Blitz accusingly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm living in a dorm which belongs to a school, so if you break it or taint it in terrorist blood, I could get expelled, and I did not work this hard just to have that happen!"

"Fine by us. Zach says we need to be sober for all this anyway," Harrison said.

Jinx froze at soon as Harrison spoke. The 18 year-old turned on her heel to look at him.

"Yeah, I'm here too," he said.

"Woah," she breathed out. Her green eyes widened as she looked up at him. "What the hell happened to you?"

Harrison embarassingly rubbed his forehead so he could hide behind his hand. "A hot scalpel—"

"No," Jinx shook her head, squinting her green eyes at him carefully. "It's your...structure."

At that Harrison dropped his hand and smirked. He extended his arms to examine them. "Yeah, I noticed the extra muscle too. The one good thing to come out of Flagg's torture I guess."

Jinx shook her head again. "No, that's not it either. Well, yeah, shit, but that's not what I meant. I mean like...you're holding yourself differently. Straighter. Taller. Quieter? More...serious. And your hair," she tilted her head at him a little. "You look like a soldier."

Harrison dropped his smirk. "A what?"

Jinx didn't get the warning. "A soldier," she repeated.

I clicked my tongue and desperately searched for a way to change to conversation. Harrison hated that word. "Percy?" I stumbled out.

"Yeah, where the hell is Percy?" Quinn's brown eyes were round.

Jinx laced her fingers together. "I gave him to an old folks home. As a therapy cat."

Quinn's jaw dropped. "But he's my therapy cat!"

"No he's not! And I didn't think I'd ever see you guys ever again, and they don't allow pets here."

"They didn't allow pets at your old apartment either," Lautaro reminded her.

"Okay, you know what, I'm trying my damn best, and you can't give input considering you just fucking barged, again, into a place that was made for two people! Where do you guys plan on staying? How are you gonna get food? How can you plan a mission with not only no equipment, but also without basic human needs?!"