MIRA

We sat there in shock, bleeding and aching alone in the car at the back of the midnight tram. I glanced at the watch on my wrist—then did a double-take. It was almost one in the morning, and I'd almost certainly missed the time I was supposed to meet up with the other Sentinels.

I doubted I could really go back, too. Not after what I'd seen. And there was no way I could be let to continue my investigation. It was a shame, we only found out that the machines were there, and that Henry remembered them being used on him. We still didn't know what Atomic Energy was doing with it.

But we knew they weren't the good guys. Even if it was otherwise a dead end.

I turned to Henry just in time to meet his eyes. He blinked, once, twice, then shook his head.

"I should try to heal us both. Sorry about that. It's—it's hard to think."

"They got you pretty good," I admitted. My fingers were now shaking around where I held the scissors in my hand.

"You aren't looking too great either." He placed one of his hands over his heart, and then placed the other over mine. He closed his eyes, and I felt a pulling at my blood, at my flesh, and a warm feeling as my wounds closed, as my bones twisted back into place.

As soon as he removed his hand from me, I felt as if my strength had been sapped. We both slumped forward, towards each other. I caught him by his shoulders, resting my forehead against his as we both struggled regain our breath.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I should have done this alone, I shouldn't have made you come with me—"

He laid his hands over mine. "You didn't make me come, I chose to help you."

"You should have never gone back there," I insisted. "She tried to take you back. I can't imagine what that was like—"

"I wouldn't choose it," he admitted, gently pushing me away. "But you're not responsible for it happening."

He glanced at my watch, frowning at the time. "You missed your meetup."

"I did." It was the least of my worries now.

"You're going to be in trouble with your handlers."

I looked away. "I'm not going back."

He was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be contemplating it, more than anything else.

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"I'm sorry I froze up in there." He avoided my eyes. "I failed you— I would have failed a kid, if they'd been taken."

"It's not your fault, what happened." I rolled down the sleeves of my jacket. "And I can't go back because whatever happened, Atomic Energy is up to something bad."

It hurt, physically, to say those words.

Or maybe it was just phantom pains, after all we'd gone through.

"We already knew that," he pointed out with an exhausted smile.

"Yes, but seeing it—that's different from knowing it." It was hard to put it into words. "I don't know if Heretic is a victim. But I know we need to find the truth. For everybody."

"That's what's really important." His smile widened, but he still looked so tired. It was as if a single night had exposed all the mileage of his life. "That's why I got into all of this, to save people like Heretic saved me. Some mornings, I wonder why I got lucky, why I got to live and every other kid Dr. Electra took died in the experiments. I wonder why I deserve it."

He met my eyes. "That's why I started helping you, helping everyone. I keep thinking, maybe if I do enough, I can make it worth it to the kids that died."

I reached out to him once more, and he didn't shy away, instead leaning into my palm on his shoulder.

There were no words I could say, that could cut through that kind of grief and guilt. I knew it all too well. I could see Verity's plaque on the memorial in my mind's eye.

He managed a genuine smile, after a moment. "I guess we should try to come up with another plan. Since I don't think we'll be able to do more there."

"We need to look into Ophelia Browning's murder," I said. "We know that Heretic didn't do it."

Henry froze. His expression was undecided, eyes unfocused. Then a glint of determination appeared in his eye.

"I knew Mrs. Browning," he confessed. "She was the mom of one of my best friends, when I was a kid. I—I never got the courage to ask. But I know who Heretic is."

"What?" I pulled away, sitting up straight. It was as if a jolt of electricity passed through my body. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because you would've turned her in, if you knew," he pointed out. "And I never asked because I was afraid to know the truth."

"How do you know?"

"She revealed her identity to me, shortly after she rescued me." He smiled fondly. "She wanted to know that I was okay."

"You admire her a lot," I realize.

"Of course I do." He bit his lip. "She saved my life. I can't ever forget that. And I can't ever turn her in or give up on her because of that."

I think if he'd told me that a few days before, I wouldn't have understood. But now I did.

That was when I realized something. I never treated Henry as he deserved. He had almost sacrificed himself to save me— and he had a family counting on him to come home. He was too good, too kind to be working with someone like me. I had no business asking him to do what he was doing.

"If now you want to stop helping me, I understand," I began.

Before I could finish, he drew me closer, placing an arm around my shoulders. "I'm not giving up now. Especially not on you."

I let myself rest my head on his shoulder, his head on mine as we waited for the right stop. I was so tired.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I wasn't sure if he'd heard me until he pulled me closer to him. We sat there, in a haze between sleep and waking like that, waiting for the right stop on the tram. A strangely ordinary end to a violent Saturday night.

When we finally showed up back at the Reagans' apartment, his mother answered with a frightened exclamation and circles under her eyes. We stumbled past her and collapsed on the couch in a heap. Everything went black as we were claimed by the sweet embrace of sleep.