The problem is evidence. Yes, I had Blacklash's contracts, and if it went well, Beth, but that was sort of the end of my ability to prove things. Tim had come forward to me, but he was in a mental hospital, so getting his testimony blocked or tossed was a problem point on my end. The technical law states that he can still give testimony, but the difference between what is technical and what actually is the case in front of a jury isn't a small gap. People had been convicted on little to no evidence before, wrong evidence, biased juries, judges, and under-funded public defenders. The reverse was also certainly true, that people who had committed the crimes they were accused of got let off the hook. If it were like it was supposed to be, there wouldn't be all these various pro-bono legal groups out there around the globe. Things don't exist within a society that don't have a reason to exist within society, regardless of whether that reason is right or wrong.

This involved the federal government, which would run any proceeding, and I couldn't just haphazardly jump around the internet looking for whatever because there's no way they're not looking for keyword searches. Individual clauses in a contract? That's essentially fine, even lawyers do that because, unlike what law shows would have you believe, lawyers don't really just know every clause of a contract and what it specifically means. They have paralegals that help research things like precedent, procedures, and more, as well as searching themselves. They're still experts, don't get me wrong, and they have to do a ton of work to get there, but there are limits, man... well, for them. Me, less so.

Getting Beth with us was one key aspect since she could act as a witness to finding the contracts and what they contained, but this was a government issue. One contract and one person wasn't going to be anywhere near enough to move the needle. I needed more, but getting a subpoena wasn't looking great as an option with the contracts being considered so highly classified. The oldest heroes currently in the game were around twenty-four years old, such as Anna, who'd had time to go to college. Beth and Blacklash got married right as Beth was finishing college, and Blacklash had died at twenty-two years old. As I thought about it, it made sense it hadn't been worked out yet. Most people didn't understand the first thing about the actual contracts, since the heroes themselves were getting contracted at the start of high school, and the vast majority of parents weren't lawyers themselves. Plenty of kids were coming out of college with massive debts because they didn't understand how the loans worked until after they finished school, and had no wealth of experience to understand.

The H.A.A. offered free legal services for starting enhanced, and most of the country couldn't afford a $500 emergency, so they wouldn't have the necessary funds or time to devote to searching for a lawyer outside the system. Groups like the ACLU could help, but again, if I pop off early, if I don't get enough evidence to force the issue, then the government can drag this out pretty much as long as it wants, and nothing changes. I needed more evidence. Maybe Blacklash's old team? The problem there was they weren't a known quantity, so I wasn't precisely sure how to approach them. I'd need to think about it more and figure out how to approach them.

Dad ate his way through Atlanta. Fried catfish, sweet tea, fried chicken, peach cobbler, it was like he was trying to hit every section of a buffet right before closing. I was sworn to secrecy since Mom was insistent on him eating healthy. I decided to play along in my own way, "You will owe me for this discretion, and one day, I will collect on this debt that you have incurred" in my best mob boss voice.

I texted ahead of the meeting, "Hi Beth, this is Marcus, and I just want to confirm the interview for today and to ask about where the best place to go have lunch is since we're new to... Well, anywhere not the West Coast."

A few minutes later, Beth texted back, confirming the interview, and gave me the name of a place: Twisted Soul Cookhouse & Pours, which on looking, seemed like it had a pretty interesting menu. I let Dad know, and we drove on over. Being Portlanders, the concept that Dad was having a local beer during lunch wasn't really uncommon. Half the businesses in Portland fell under the heading, "[X]... and a bar". No seriously, wanna get used records and a drink? Bar Carlo. Picked up the newest Magic The Gathering release? Grab a drink at Guardian Games. Paddleboat river tour? BrewBargePDX. There was the Barcade Ground Kontrol, the list went on and on, and if it didn't contain a bar directly, there was a place within about a block of it, whether bar or food truck.

The place was nice, and as we got settled in, Dad broke out his laptop, and I had my papers with me. Beth signaled that she was there, and I waved to her as she stepped inside. She waved back, "Hi, y'all must be related. I'm Beth, welcome to Atlanta."

We stood as she walked up, there were handshakes all around, and we had a seat. I'd place Beth at about twenty-five. I didn't say much at first, letting Dad take point on the interview after we placed orders, "So Beth, McKenna Solutions is looking to hire on, specifically, we're looking for someone to head up our Human Resources division for our non-profit work. Have you had a chance to look over the information I sent you?"

She passed my dad a couple of pieces of paper, which I figured were her CV. I focused on eating and getting a read on her. She seemed happy enough, but there was that slight twinge of something, a sadness and weariness. She was a young woman who'd been the wife of a super who had died in action, the director of HR at a very young age for an underfunded non-profit group, and now a single mother. It wasn't hard to imagine where those traits had come from. Dad went through the usual interview process, asking questions about whether she was willing to commit to the move, and how long she would need. He went over the salary, and benefits, and listed some good schools, but while she was answering capably, I did notice her eyes kept drifting slightly. Subtly, she kept glancing at my right arm. I'd brought Reaver with me, although it had objected somewhat vigorously at having to be in checked bags. I had to explain that trying to walk through airport metal detectors was going to be a problem if I was wearing armor, "Ms. Beth, did you want to see it, or is this making you uncomfortable?"

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Reaver was under the sleeve, and normally, I wouldn't have brought it to meet her, but at the same time, I was still sort of confirming a number of things. Most people didn't have much reaction to Reaver if they even saw it. I wore a lot of long-sleeved shirts, just like now, so you had to know it was there. Also, if she was going to be working with us, I was kind of inextricably linked to Reaver for the moment, and it was best gotten out of the way. Beth took a moment, "Can you... make it do the tendrils?"

I didn't want to make a scene, so I brought the tendrils out a short ways, just enough for her to see them. Beth's breath stuttered, and I retracted them, "I'm sorry. I.. don't understand how much this must have hurt you, but I know it has to hurt."

"Yeah... it does, but it's good, too. I reckon that means that something of her time as a hero is still with us. Just, make sure it matters," She teared up a slight bit, but got it under control. She'd had time with the pain, and while it did still hurt, she'd been moving forward for a while.

I looked at my dad, and he gave me the nod, "Beth, we're undertaking a project to fix the homelessness situation in Portland, my hometown. The job is fully legitimate, and from what we've already seen, the interview is mostly a formality. I didn't go to the academy, and I don't work with or for the H.A.A.-"

On H.A.A., her eyes narrowed, and the tears dead stopped, real rage behind her eyes. I'd hit the sore spot, but there wasn't a way around the talk, "I did that because I didn't really want superpowers, I didn't want to be a hero, and I still don't, at least not in the way they mean it. I want to use my ability to help, but, video evidence to the contrary, I don't like fighting. I found the contracts, and I need to confirm if they're real."

I pulled the stack of papers out of my backpack and passed them to her. She looked over them, and nodded, "Yeah, this is it, well, a copy at least. I've still got the originals."

Originals would be better than the copies I'd printed out, "Look, right now, I've got this, your story, and one guy who was trapped under Reaver for two years, and he's got pretty severe trauma from it."

"Jesus," She stared at the papers in front of her, "Yeah, my wife kept a journal on her computer. Mostly just general life and superhero stuff, but she did talk about stuff like the morality clause and whatnot. It's not much, and I swear I tried-" She broke off as she fought down a sob.

I nodded, "I wouldn't even know about this if I hadn't searched for it, and if you hadn't posted it online, I wouldn't have thought anything of it. Now that I've seen it... this is wrong. I can't just leave it like this, but as long as you're being held to the contracts, it puts things in a bind. I know you've got no real reason to trust me, but I need a full accounting of everything that she still owes to the H.A.A., so I can pay it off. I'm doing that whether you want to help us or not."

She just sat there for a moment, blinking, "I don't understand... why you care?"

I laughed, and I knew she wouldn't get the reference, but it was too good to pass up, "Because somebody should!"

Dad cut in, "Don't look at me. He gets that shit from his mother!"

She looked at the table for a moment, struggling to remember something, and broke out into laughter, and she was tearing up again, "Oh my God, Unlimited Blade Works, right? Jenna loved that series!"

Okay, or maybe she will get the reference. Dad glanced at me, "Anime?"

I nodded, smiling, "Yeah, it's a great anime. She watched?"

The server came by, dropping off food as Beth kept going, "She had the Crunchyroll. God, Jenna watched the worst stuff on there. I mean, don't get me wrong or nothin', she had a bunch that were really great, but the other end- Good God in his highchair, they were awful!"

We were all laughing now, though Dad wasn't quite with us on the anime thing, "Yeah, me and my buddy call it ADD- Anime Dumpster Diving. We find the stuff that's so terrible, it wraps right back around to being awesome, cause like, whole teams of people had to get it approved at every stage of development. There were animators, voice actors, writers, a whole board of professionals, and everyone just somehow kept going, 'yeah, that's the stuff'."

We had lunch, and Beth and Dad talked more. I got distracted texting with Aimee for a bit. I'd been sending her pictures of Atlanta, and she was talking about how her and her friends were going out to a movie. Her dad was acting as a chaperone, and I felt for him. I love Aimee, but her friends could be a lot, especially as a grou-

I love Aimee... I just sort of stopped thinking when that caught up with me. I missed the rest of the time there, and we were on the road again before I got snapped out of it by Dad thumping my ear, "You there?!"

I shook my head, to see we were heading south out of Atlanta, "Uh, not as much as I'd have liked. What'd I miss?"

He shook his head, "Well, it'd be nice if I had directions, for one."

Oh, right, so I hopped on the phone and got directions going. A little bit later, Dad nudged at me, "So, what's got you so distracted? And will it involve this car getting wrecked?"

I chuckled, "Nah, it's... it isn't superhero stuff. I just... I'm in love with Aimee."

A slow nod and Dad changed lanes in time with the directions from my phone, "Ah, finally realized that did you?"

I blinked repeatedly, "You knew?! I didn't even know!"

He snorted a bit, "Kid, I love ya, but it's so obvious to anyone that's not you and Aimee. You two get near each other, and it's like... you have your own gravity. Pass me a Slim Jim, would you?"

I passed him the Slim Jim, "But like, how do I know if she loves me back?"

He was having too much fun with this, "You don't! Right up until you say it, and she says it, it's all up in the air. And no, it doesn't get less scary. It means being vulnerable, and that's always going to be scary. You weren't afraid of Reaver, you're not afraid to fight the H.A.A., but this? Oh, we all get scared, just like I was scared when I said it to your mom for the first time."

He didn't say anything else really until he asked me to find a Super 8 Motel, and we pulled off for the night. Dad turned in early, and I hung out on the balcony, mustering up the courage to call her. I felt the Sync power kick in, Reaver making the adjustment to push my thought into action, "We're gonna talk about that one late- Hey, Aimee. Uh, how'd the game go?"

"Oh, it hasn't started yet. I loved the pictures! Georgia looks so beautiful. Hey, I can't talk long, Coach is rounding everyone up," She said, speaking up as the sound of people in the background intensified.

"Uh, yeah, alright... Um, Aimee?" Why was this so hard?

"Yes?"

"I love you." I was looking up at the night sky, just praying I'd hear it back.

There was silence for a moment, and then, "I know."

And click, she hung up. I just stared at the phone for a moment. That was... I don't know what that- Wait... Did that woman just Han Solo me?!