They stopped at a fast food restaurant for a dinner break about an hour later. Sam was groggy and quiet at dinner, and he complained about his head and stomach hurting, but he ate without question. He didn't ask where they were headed.

When she paid for the food, Elena caught herself worrying about whether she would run out of money if they kept on the road for too long. The idea that she didn't have to worry about money anymore was still foreign to her.

They were nearing Nevada. There had been no amber alert for this van, and they were far enough from where Sam had gone missing that no one around would have seen any notices with his face, if there had ever been any. No one would recognize them or find them suspicious. That was, assuming they didn't notice the tint of off-color that surrounded Sam wherever he went.

It was becoming more and more noticeable to Elena, but she was constantly aware of it. If their journey took any more than a couple of days, people would start to see the color changes when Sam came nearby. Not that they would suspect Sam, but she would rather their group not arouse any feelings of general suspicion everywhere they went.

Her head also started to hurt constantly. She kicked herself for not having thought to pack painkillers, but realized that she would have needed to ration them pretty heavily for the coming days even if she had. The headache was nothing to what she would be feeling if they hadn't solved this in a couple of days.

The food seemed to do Sam some good, and his eyes were wide as they filed back into the van. "What happened to the motor home?" he asked.

Elena looked over her shoulder at him, almost wishing she had opted to sit in the back to keep him company, but also thankful for the distance from the source of her pounding headache. That was irrational, since the energy flux wasn't any greater closer to Sam unless he was pulling in his powers, but she couldn't help feeling a little safer at a few extra feet away from him. "We had to leave it behind. The bad guys caught up with us."

"What about your animals?"

She felt a stabbing pain in her chest. If they had made it to Jeffrey's, he could have taken care of the animals. Now, there was no way to know what would become of them. She couldn't imagine the police taking special care to make sure they were treated well. "They're gone, Sam."

He gasped. "Even your dog?"

"Even Winter."

"Did they die?" His jaw dropped. "Oh no, did I kill them?"

Elena shook her head. "No, no. We just had to leave them behind with the camper."

"Sam," Patrick said, "what do you remember about when the police officers caught up with us?"

Sam rubbed his eyes. "I remember they were chasing us, then Miss Michelle pulled over." He scooted forward in his chair. "Where's Miss Michelle?"

"She—" Elena winced. She couldn't tell him. "She had to go away."

"Why?"

Patrick turned to look at Sam just for a moment. "Because she had to fight the bad guys off."

"But I fought them all off. I used my powers for good, like you told me."

Elena and Patrick exchanged a glance. "Sam," Elena said, "what do you remember about using your powers?"

"Everything, I think. You told me not to pull in my powers or I would hurt the people around me. But superheroes sometimes do hurt people, they hurt bad guys. And these guys—" His eyes widened once again. "Wait a minute! I remember what happened to Miss Michelle, she got hit in the head!"

Elena's voice caught in her throat. "Right, what Patrick meant—"

"You said she was going to fight bad guys! But she got hurt, she can't fight bad guys anymore! You lied!"

Patrick shook his head. "No, Sam, I didn't mean to say—"

"You're supposed to be the good guys and not lie to me! Like the Tech United people told me they wouldn't hurt me when they were looking at the manomalies, but they tried to put me in a big scary machine. They lied because they're bad guys." His lower lip trembled. "Are you the bad guys? Is Michelle dead?"

"Sam, listen!" The sharpness of Elena's voice startled even herself. "Michelle's tough. Yes, you're right, she got hit in the head. But she's not dead. She's going to be fine."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "She was bleeding a lot, Miss Elena. I saw a guy in a movie bleed that much, and he died."

"Well, Michelle's a lot stronger than the guy in that movie." Her voice shook against her will. She couldn't hold those thoughts in her head, hadn't allowed herself to.

"Elena, are you sure—"

"Stop it, Sam!"

Sam went quiet. Patrick placed a hand on Elena's shoulder. Hot tears ran down her cheeks.

She caught Sam's eye in the rearview mirror. "Sorry," he whispered.

It was hard enough hearing an eight-year-old's rational doubts about whether Michelle would survive long enough for medical attention to reach her. But his other words bothered her more. "Sam, do you still think we're the bad guys?"

"No. You're both crying. Bad guys don't cry."

Elena turned over to Patrick. There were no tears in his eyes. "Okay, but Patrick's not crying."

"He is on the inside."

Patrick's knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel.

Elena sighed. "Okay, Sam. Only the truth now. We won't lie to you anymore."

"Where are we going?"

"You know the guy we got this van from?"

"No."

"Okay, well, his name is Jeffrey. We talked to him for a little while, you were there but you were asleep for most of it. He gave us an address for the house where your family lived when you were born."

"Which family?"

"Your birth family."

He was silent for a moment, shock filling his eyes. "Do they still live there?"

"We don't know, Sam."

"Do we know their names?"

"No, we don't. Just the address. But we're hoping we can find out."

He smiled and settled back in his chair. "I bet they're super nice. I bet they'd never burn my hands or sell my pets when they got mad at me."

That hot lump rose into Elena's throat again. "Yeah," she managed to choke out. And some part of her meant it. Even if they were really bad, she doubted they'd be quite that bad.

For the most part, though, she was just worried they wouldn't be there.

"So." He kicked his feet forward and back. "What should I do first when I meet my parents? I think I'll show them my powers."

"No!" Both Elena and Patrick cried out at the same time.

"I won't pull them in to hurt anyone!" He pouted. "I just want to show them that I have superhero powers! Do you think they'll have powers, too?"

Elena hadn't thought too deeply into it. The ability to bend the rules of science according to one's will didn't strike her as something that could be passed on genetically. "I don't want you to get your hopes up too high, Sam. They might not even be there."

"I know." He crossed his arms and slumped in his chair. "Why are we going there, anyway? Are they going to save us from the bad guys?"

Elena breathed in to lie, but remembered her promise. "We're thinking we might be able to find some clues about how to control your powers."

"I can totally control them!"

"But you can't—" she winced— "I mean, you can't control what color things change to. And you can't control how much total power you have."

"Yeah, but I've been practicing the pushing and pulling and stuff! I can push them out really far." He squeezed his eyes shut, and the pressure in Elena's head released for just a moment. "Or I can pull them in."

A blinding pain struck her, tingling all the nerves in her body, making her head feel like it was bound to explode any moment. Patrick gasped, the van swerved, and Sam cried out before the pain stopped short.

"Sorry!" Sam said. "I forgot."

Elena let her breath out, her heart pounding. The power to reshape reality rested in the hands of a forgetful eight-year-old. Even if they taught him to control his powers perfectly, to bring his own flux down to zero, it would never be enough.

One slip, one moment of great temptation to prove himself or impress someone, and he would doom the planet.