The heavy bag swings lazily on its chain, rocking back and forth in time with the dull thud of gloved fists against worn leather. It's a familiar rhythm, a steady beat that echoes through the cavernous space of the Delaware Valley Defenders' gym, bouncing off the high ceilings and polished hardwood floors.

But there's something different about it today, something subdued and muted that hangs in the air like a pall. Maybe it's the way everyone seems to be moving a little slower, a little more carefully, like they're afraid of breaking something fragile if they push too hard. Or maybe it's the way the usual chatter and laughter has been replaced by a tense, almost oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional grunt of exertion or the squeak of sneakers on the mats. It reminds me of the funeral for Liberty Belle.

I try to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of my own breath, the burn of muscles as I work through a series of stretches and warm-up exercises. It helps, a little, to lose myself in the familiar motions, to let my mind go blank and just be in my body for a while. I forget, sometimes, how young I am, since it already feels like I've been through like two dozen wars. I wonder what the rest of my friends at school did for their summer break - went on vacation with their families? Went to camp? Worked a summer job? I spent mine testifying in front of the nation. And then I did it again right before Halloween.

"Hey, Bee!" Lily calls out from across the room, waving me over with a grin that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "You want to spar? I've been working on that two-man takedown you showed me last week, I think I'm getting pretty good at it."

I hesitate for a moment, glancing around at the rest of the team. Jason is over by the free weights, his face set in a grim mask of concentration as he grunts out rep after rep. Amelia and Connor are stretching together in the corner, their heads bent close as they murmur to each other in low, urgent tones. And… That's it. That's it, isn't it? Just the five of us. I mean, I never felt particularly connected to anyone, but I don't really feel particularly connected to most people nowadays. Like… it's like watching people stop showing up to your Boy Scouts meetings. You don't realize just how big the gym is until it's empty.

I realize that they're all giving me side-eye, like I'm the depressing thing that walked in, ever since I got back to Philly last night. I expected at least someone to say "you did a great job", or "you represented us well"… but, I guess not. I haven't been checking the news. I just got my homework and went to sleep.

Maybe that's on purpose.

"Sure," I say finally, plastering a smile onto my face that feels about as genuine as a three-dollar bill. "Let's do it."

We square up on the mats, circling each other warily as we size each other up. Lily's smaller than me, but she's quick and agile, with a wiry strength that belies her slight frame. And she's been training hard lately, putting in extra hours at the gym and drilling herself mercilessly on every technique and maneuver she can get her hands on. Like a lot of us, I guess. Like we're all trying to make up for lost time, trying to cram a lifetime's worth of training into a few short months. I don't know what we're gunning for, but it feels like it's coming soon.

She comes at me fast, ducking under my guard and trying to sweep my legs out from under me. I manage to keep my balance, but just barely, stumbling back a few steps as she presses her advantage. She's good, I'll give her that. But I've got a few tricks up my sleeve too.

I feint left, then pivot suddenly to the right, using my momentum to drive my shoulder into her chest and knock her off balance. She staggers back, her eyes widening in surprise, and I press my advantage, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back in one smooth motion. She lets out a yelp of pain - and something else, too. Something that sounds almost like fear. I let go immediately, taking a step back and holding up my hands in apology.

"Sorry," I mutter, feeling a flush of shame creeping up my neck. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," she says quickly, rubbing at her shoulder with a rueful grin. "I shouldn't have let my guard down like that. You're too fast for me, man."

"Says the speedster," I cough, forcing a laugh, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears. "Not fast enough, apparently," I say, shaking my head. "Half the bad guys in this state already know what I look like in costume and out of it. Not much point in trying to be sneaky now, I guess."

She gives me a sympathetic look, but before she can say anything else, there's a sudden commotion by the door. I turn to look, my heart leaping into my throat as I see two familiar silhouettes emerging from the shadows of the darkened hallway.

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"What the hell are you doing here?" Jason growls, his voice low and dangerous as he takes a step forward, putting himself between the intruders and the rest of the team. Then, he takes a second to actually assess who he's looking at, and his face softens.

"Easy there, big guy," Devonte says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "We come in peace, I promise. Just need to have a little chat with our girl Bee here, that's all. Take me to your leader! Ha ha," he says, putting on an annoying tone, that deliberately nasal voice he used to fuck with Akilah all the time - but just like my laugh earlier, it's hollow.

"Right. Well. Welcome back, I guess," Jason mumbles.

I blink in surprise. "Playback? Pup?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral even as my mind races with a thousand questions. "What's with the surprise? You two need a third for your throuple or something?"

Neither one of them are in costume - civvies as far as the eye can see - but I guess nobody deactivated their keycards. Akilah's hair bounces off of her head in tight springs like fireworks, while Devonte, for one, isn't wearing a beanie. Instead, he's wearing a baby-blue backwards baseball cap. Both of them in similarly boring casualwear: sweaters for Devonte, gym clothes for Akilah.

Akilah rolls her eyes, but there's no real heat behind it. "Very funny," she says, her voice as dry as the Sahara. "You clearly have been taking after the Dad of the pairing. Anyway. Bee. We need to talk to you. Alone."

"I'm the Dad? I thought I was the dead baby in the basement," Devonte quips, sounding genuinely hurt, somehow. Akilah punches him in the shoulder.

I frown, my eyes darting between the two of them, then back to my confused team. "Why alone?" I ask slowly, feeling a prickle of unease running down my spine.

"Great question," Jason asks, folding his arms over his chest. "I'd sure love to know, too."

"Because it's sensitive information," Devonte says, his voice uncharacteristically serious. That's twice in one minute - a new record. "The kind that could get people hurt if it falls into the wrong hands. And right now, we're not sure whose hands we can trust. No offense." He holds his hands up in a surrender pose, placating again. Like a dog afraid it's losing a fight.

"So you think we're involved in something?" Connor asks, folding his arms with a concerned twang, conspicuously mirroring Jason.

"No," says Akilah, more calmly. "But this is more Bee's business, because Bee is the one that just spoke in front of Congress, unlike the rest of y'all."

"So no offense taken, right?" finishes Devonte, with his usual grin. "Plus, this needs to be on the DL. No Jamal, no adults in the room. Sorry, if anyone's eavesdropping."

Fury Forge, sitting in the corner, looks up from her seat as if she's just been called. She's reading a book, although which, I can't tell from here. She puts her face back down into it.

"That doesn't make any sense," says Lily, quietly. "If you didn't want the NSRA or anyone to know you were saying anything, why come here at all instead of, like, Bee's house?"

"Do you think we know where Bee lives? What sort of a sick fuck do you take me for, stalking fifteen year old girls," replies Devonte, looking her in the eye and not relenting on his smile.

"Cut it out," Akilah chides him.

I hesitate for a long moment, weighing my options. On the one hand, I trust my team with my life. I trust them more than I trust the NSRA, or the FBI, or anyone else in this stupid game of whack-a-mole.

But on the other hand, I know what it's like to be out there on your own, without the safety net of a government paycheck and a fancy title to protect you. I know the kinds of risks you have to take, the kinds of sacrifices you have to make, just to stay one step ahead of the law and the lawless alike. I've been out there in the storm with Jordan. And the Pattinson's Pals showed us just how fast things could change - how quickly the winds of power could shift, leaving you stranded and alone in the cold. I don't want that for them - any of them. Not if there's something I can do, some risk I can take, to shield them from that storm.

"Okay," I say finally, my voice sounding strangely distant to my own ears. "Okay, sure. Do we need, like, a guarded cell or something? How private is this?"

"But Sam-" Lily starts to protest. I fix her with a meaningful look, willing her to understand what I can't say. She locks her jaw shut, her big eyes swirling with concern.

I turn to the rest of my team. I'm surprised, for a moment, that Lily was the only one who commented.

Connor makes eye contact with me, and in his lanky frame I can sense that same muscle tension that he had when he asked 'when are we going to do something?' on the roof all those weeks ago. I hold up a hand. "Don't. Anything you hear, you can be asked about later. And I don't want you to have to lie."

"You're talking like we're already defeated," he says sourly.

"I'm talking like I don't want anybody else involved in my drama if I can help it." I pull out my phone under the pretense of checking the time and tap on a button three times. "Look, guys, I promise - if it's something you need to know, I will tell you myself. Until then… it's need-to-know."

"I could have you arrested for insubordination," Jason replies, but it's clear he doesn't mean it. Nobody laughs anyway. Amelia just stares at him. "I'm joking! Come on. It's fine…"

They're silent for a moment, just watching. The awkward silence between us is palpable - not only because we've stopped talking but because I can feel their resentment and worry oozing out of them like an open wound. I almost relent for a second. These are my friends. Right?

I almost say something, but Devonte interrupts. "Look, we're burning daylight here. Bee, you know a place?"

I think of Jordan's place, the Tacony Music Hall. How it was where I got to know them, and Derek, and so many other people who are now indispensable to me. How, in that quiet, empty space, we shared secrets and soda and everything in between. And I know that it's the only place I can think of where I might feel safe enough to hear whatever bombshell Dev and Akilah are about to drop on me - and, it's got a Faraday cage.