Summus Proelium

Throughout the time they had spent building the Ministry into what it now was, Sterling and Elena Evans had always known that they couldn't trust that they would always be around to control every aspect of it. Their line of work, on both sides of the law (and both sides of ethics and morality) was too dangerous and unpredictable. No matter how much they planned for, and no matter how capable they were, there was always the chance of something unexpected happening to one or both of them. They couldn't create the organization they wanted, an organization that could continue to stand even through the total collapse of larger governments, by forcing the entire thing to rely solely on their constant presence and guidance. That would have been a very good way to end up with the Ministry falling apart at the very moment they weren’t there.

So, they had surrounded themselves with quite intelligent and powerful people. Those at the top of the leadership positions in the Ministry were more than capable of working together to continue the organization even if its founders had never actually recovered from Sleeptalk. In such an eventuality, if both of them had died, their organization would continue. They had taken far too many pains to establish redundancies for it to fall that easily. Most of the lower and mid-tier levels didn’t even know they existed, or who they were actually working for.

The people at the top, the rest of the Ministry leadership council, were why Sterling had not lost his mind upon being brought back to coherent consciousness, only to be told that he and his wife had both been incapacitated for weeks by that point. Oh, he certainly hadn't been thrilled, but neither had he utterly panicked about what had happened. He trusted that the people they put into place had done their jobs properly. That was what they were there for, after all. And the evidence that they had done those jobs was right there in the fact that he and his wife were awake and safe now.

All of which was to say, beyond getting very simple and brief updates about the immediate situation, both of them had told their people to hold off on getting into the full details until after they managed to spend some time with their children. Yes, the state of the city was important. But they knew that nothing they could do about it right in that immediate moment would really matter. They would get down to the important points of what needed to be done soon enough, but for now, they needed to be there for Cassidy, Izzy, and Simon. Simon--the boy himself had obviously stepped up as much as he possibly could in that time. He wasn’t ready to take over, but he had stepped up. He had done everything he could, everything they could expect of him. But for now, for this moment, Sterling and Elena wanted to see him not as part of the Ministry, not as one of their lieutenants, but as their child. They wanted to see him as their firstborn. That was what mattered right then, not more details about Ministry work.

So, they spend that first bit of time getting caught up with their children's lives. They heard what Izzy had been up to with the Minority, and other things. They learned about Whamline’s betrayal and true motivation, an explanation that left both of them looking at one another. There was something much larger behind that situation. If he had truly been such a monster, the fact that they had missed it entirely was troubling. To say nothing of the fact that he had been responsible for the death of Amber O'Connell's father. The girl herself was a fairly strong candidate for recruitment into the Ministry, considering her attraction to Dani Kalvers and friendship with Cassidy. But even beyond that, both of them were horrified by the realization that the girl had unknowingly been spending so much time with the person who killed her dad. Yes, there was a part of them that thought about how that would affect her attitude and personality in general going forward. But it was a very minor part compared to the concern they had for her overall well-being. Whether she was part of the Ministry or not, Amber was a very good person and an excellent Star-Touched to have in the city. They cared about her. Cared enough, as it was, to be concerned about how she was doing after all that. She had killed the person responsible for her father's death.

Well, some would say that she had simply allowed him to die, but that was a distinction that she probably didn't care that much about. When it came down to it, she was clearly responsible for his death. She allowed him to die. That was something that had to be eating at her, no matter what sort of outward face she put on it, and no matter how evil the boy himself had been. Both Sterling and Elena knew that that wasn’t something she could just ignore and move on from that easily. The overall betrayal, the disgust at having spent so much time with him, being attacked and mocked for her father’s death, and then ultimately making the choice to allow the building to collapse on him… it was more than anyone should have to deal with, let alone a teenager like Amber.

That was something to keep an eye on. She needed to be taken care of, needed to be given a break, time to process everything. She needed time to recover, not more trauma and stress. If that continued for too long, the girl would break. She was too helpful, too strong, too good, for them to let that happen. No, whatever came next, it was obvious that she needed a vacation. All of them did, honestly. It was time to insist that the youth Touched take a real break. Both Sterling and his wife communicated that much with one another through a simple glance.

Beyond that explanation from Izzy about the whole situation, they caught up with their children in other ways through that short time. Cassidy had had her-- their chance to explain their truth, which was going to take some getting used to. Sterling was happy for his child at the fact that they seemed to have become much more comfortable with themself. It filled his heart with joy to see how much more at ease she-they looked. There was still a certain guardedness to them. It made his stomach clench at the thought that his child might have been nervous about sharing this with them.

But all they could do was show Cassidy all the acceptance and understanding they could. Yes, all of this was a big change, considering how long Cassidy had spent trying to downplay their masculine side. It was going to be a lot to get used to. But the only thing that truly mattered was that Cassidy felt comfortable with who they were now. Everything else was nothing more than details.

But speaking of details, once that reunion with their children was over, it was time for Sterling and Elena to get a much deeper understanding of what else they missed in all that time. It was, very obviously even from the very beginning, not a short list. The city had been rather busy, it seemed.

It was Tricia Peppernickle, one of the most beloved receptionists for the Seraphs and secretly part of the Ministry leadership, who came to advise them of the full situation once their children left. No one would question her being in the area or stopping by to check on them. That was just the sort of reputation she had built. She was a kindly old woman who couldn't be a threat to anyone or anything. No one who didn't know already would have guessed that she was potentially one of the most dangerous Touched in the city, at least as far as long-term effect went. She was capable of instilling temporary but powerful addictions in people through touch, addictions to any food or drink she wanted. Failing to service those addictions could lead to intense hallucinations and severe illness. It wasn't exactly a pretty sight, to say the least.

No, Tricia was absolutely not the right person to underestimate. But she was loyal to the Evans, and to the overall goal of the Ministry. She was one of their most trusted advisers and friends. As soon as she came into the room, both Sterling and Elena embraced her in turn. They made smalltalk for a few minutes, asking her about her own loved ones and how she was doing, before getting down into the nitty gritty.

And what nitty gritty it was. They had been very aware that monumental things had happened in their absence, but this was even more than they had even begun to suspect. Whamline’s revelation and subsequent death was only one part of it.

Sterling was only mildly surprised by the revelation that the Scions had been in some way connected to Sleeptalk, though the specifics were rather… unique. Amanda Sanvers, Cup, had been Benjamin Pittman’s.. what, protege? She was with him, and had been the one who took the reins of his plan while he was indisposed. She had created this Sleeptalk under his obvious direction, and now that she had been arrested, she was the one who helped make the cure.

“Arrested,” Elena murmured while standing by the window that overlooked the hospital grounds. “Dare I ask who was responsible for that bit of heroism?”

A small chuckle escaped the older woman, who had taken a seat and was knitting absently. “Oh, that would be Miss Sanvers herself. She surrendered.” Her gaze rose to look pointed at them both. “After killing her brother.”

Sterling, standing next to the bed, made a sound deep in his throat. It was part-cough and part-grunt. “I’m sorry?” There had been more serious things Izzy and Cassidy had wanted to talk about, things both of them had occasionally started to bring up, but Elena had insisted they stick to other, lighter topics as soon as they were done talking about That-A-Way and Whamline. That had been difficult enough as it was, for Izzy to talk about her teammate and supposed friend being… that. Elena wanted their reunion to be a happy time, not a stressful one. So they spent most of it talking about less traumatic news.

This bit about Pencil being killed by his sister? That was probably one of the things they had wanted to bring up.

Tricia remained focused on her knitting for a few seconds, having spent enough time telling stories throughout her seventy years or so of life that she knew when to milk a moment. Finally, just before she would have allowed it to drag on for too long, she explained. Well, not immediately. First, she told them about the Scions taking over that apartment building and locking everyone out with a force field in what had been a deliberate attempt to get themselves transported into the Conservator headquarters. Normally the building had too many protections against that, but it seemed that Ms. Sanvers had managed to create a forcefield with a specific, exploitable weakness that she knew the authorities would both identify and utilize. It wouldn't have surprised Sterling at all to find that one of the Scions was responsible for that idea making its way through the system.

In any case, the supposed solution was a trap. The weakness that was supposed to teleport everyone inside the building to random locations had actually sent the Scions into the Conservator headquarters. Supposedly, their goal had been to kill the Sleeptalk patients there (including Sterling and Elena), as well as the doctors who were working on them. Not a terrible plan, if one wanted to cause as much chaos and trauma as possible. It was an evil, horrific plan (and one that Sterling held rather strong personal opinions against, being one of those who would have died), but not a stupid one.

Well, unless you considered the sort of ramifications that would have come after the Scions if they had pulled it off. But then, when did they ever think about ramifications?

Examining her knitting critically for a moment, Tricia tapped her needle against the chair thoughtfully before adding, “I do believe that nasty boy thought he was going to be able to kill Paintball when he pulled the lad into that particular cage match.”

It was a good thing that Sterling hadn't been drinking anything in that moment, because it would have ended up on the floor. He was, however, holding his phone, which dropped from his hand as his head snapped around. But in that same moment, without even looking at him, Elena put her hand out to catch the falling phone. Not because she was any less surprised, but she had always been far more collected and poised out of the two of them.

Tricia, for her part, allowed her bombshell to detonate with a very small, self-satisfied smile before continuing. “Oh yes, our least favorite monster decided the best way to get his reputation back was to horrifically murder the person responsible for taking it from him in the first place. Well, one of the people. He managed to drag that boy down into a private room and set up some sort of livestream to show off the killing for everyone.” She made a show of pausing to consider something thoughtfully. “Which may have worked out better for him if it hadn't come almost immediately after that same boy called to tell us that he and his friends had discovered what Pencil’s weakness was.”

Sterling gave her a look after coughing. “Now I know you're doing this on purpose,” he accused pointedly. “Just how often can you include a spit-take moment in one story?”

Tricia’s answer was a not-so-innocent wink. “I don’t know, but let’s find out, shall we? And honestly, how often is it that both of you are so behind in something important in this city that it gives me a chance to get these sorts of reactions? Allow a frail and rapidly fading old lady some small measure of fun in her twilight years, would you?”

Elena gave a rather undignified snort at that. Her head shook firmly. “Ahem, don’t forget, I’ve seen your medical reports. I remain certain that you will outlive both of us and remain in this same position while assisting our children when they are our age.

Adopting an affronted expression, Sterling shot a look at his wife. “Hey now, I plan on being very much alive when the kids are the age we are now.” He straightened up as much as possible and made a motion as though adjusting a tie that wasn't there. “After all, we are both incredibly young. Especially you.” With that, he leaned over to kiss her very lightly.

Eyes light with amusement, Elena played at scolding him with a hushed word or two before turning her attention back to their guest. “Before my husband finds some other excuse to be distracting, would you kindly continue your story and explain what happened? You were saying something about Paintball telling us Pencil’s weakness.”

So, Tricia told them about Rubi, the new Touched who had subsequently joined Ten Towers, and how her encounter with Pencil had gone.

Hearing that, both about a new Star-Touched with a fascinating power, and about how that power had apparently been used to identify a potential flaw in Pencil’s supposed immunity, made Sterling slump back a bit. Had it truly been that simple the whole time? Could--how many people could have been saved, how much damage prevented, if they had simply shot the bastard more times? But how could they have known that shooting him fifty times instead of thirty might have accomplished something?

The guilt that Sterling felt then, as faces of the dead passed through his mind, made his eyes close briefly. He felt Elena squeeze his arm, her soft voice reassuring him. They didn’t know. They had no way to know. And yet, that didn’t stop Sterling from promising himself that he would visit those graves, those memorials, and apologize for not trying harder.

They should have tried harder.

Only once they had that bit of background did Tricia go on to the subject of the actual fight between Paintball and that bastard. Yet she didn't simply describe it herself, not trusting her own words to do the event justice. Instead, she put the recording of the fight up on the nearby television screen with a couple taps at her phone. For all the woman enjoyed playing up her age, either for comedic effect or to convince others to underestimate her, she really was very technically astute. Sterling was convinced she was probably the one helping her grandchildren with their computers rather than the other way around.

So, they all watched on the screen as the fight played out. Through it all, Sterling felt his heart repeatedly clench. It was odd. He knew that Paintball was alive and Pencil was dead, so there shouldn't have been any real emotional reaction. Besides, he didn't know Paintball, not really. He was rather glad they had failed in their early attempts to kill the boy. That had been a severe overreaction, an emotional reflex after dealing with people who had threatened his daughter. If they had behaved better, they might have actually recruited the boy that first night. Instead, everything went rather poorly. Granted, it could have gone worse. The boy was alive and very effective. He was good for the city, and he was obviously either willing to let things go, or at least knew better than to rock the boat. Whatever the reason, he wasn't actively trying to expose them.

And now, there he was on the screen, fighting for his life against one of the most dangerous monsters he ever could have been put up against. Watching that, Sterling found himself taking his wife's hand and squeezing it. He still didn't understand why he had that sort of reaction. The boy was effective. He was good. He would make a very fine recruit if that became possible in the future. But none of that explained why Sterling was so emotionally affected simply by watching him fight Pencil. It was, again, odd. Maybe it was just a side effect of being under Sleeptalk for so long.

At least he didn't have to question the enjoyment he felt when the boy exposed and utilized Pencil’s actual weakness. Through that entire sequence, he found himself more impressed at Paintball’s seemingly perfect aim with that gun. Was that really the first time he had used one of those, or was he an expert? If that was part of his power, one of those seemingly minor ‘extra’ gifts that tended to help Touched, it would explain how he was so accurate with his paint in the first place. Though Sterling wasn't exactly certain what an enhanced aim gift had to do with paint on its own.

Then the fight was over. Paintball had won, utterly humiliating Pencil in the process. Seeing the monster dropped through the simple act of having his shoelaces tied together, Sterling felt a sharp rush of both pride (odd) and satisfaction. He had to remind himself to project calm and poise in this moment. Elena wouldn’t like it if he--

“Hot damn!” That was Elena, half-rising from her seat with that blurted exclamation. Only then, after the words had escaped her, did she seem to actually realize what she had said. Sitting back down immediately, she made a very soft, slightly embarrassed noise in her throat. A pink tint had come to her face. “Ahem, that is… nice to see.”

Allowing himself a small chuckle, Sterling put an arm around his wife. “Yes, it is.”

Tricia explained what happened after that, away from the livestream. She told them about Amanda Sanvers appearing, literally executing her own brother in cold blood, and what came after with her surrender and subsequently being revealed (by Avant-Guard again) as the architect of the entire Sleeptalk situation.

Oh, and in case all of that wasn’t enough (because these ridiculous teenagers didn’t know how to sleep apparently), Paintball’s group had even managed to produce Pittman himself. Because of course they had. By that point, all Sterling and Elena could do was nod along with the story. Sure, why not? This band of teenage Touched had managed to teleport Pittman off of the single most-secure prison in the entire world, then handed him over to the Ministry.

Or at least, they had tried to. But that was where things went sideways again. Upon hearing what happened to the man, Elena gave a low, yet rather intricate series of curses in Italian before exhaling. “Robert… killed him in front of the small child?”

“He waited until she was occupied with the truck of supplies we were offering,” Tricia assured them. “She was close enough to hear it happen, but she didn’t see it. That must have been intentional.”

“It was,” Elena confirmed with certainty. “Though I assume we don’t know where he is now?”

Shaking her head, Tricia replied, “Simon and a few others wanted to pursue him, at the very least to ask questions. I told them it would be a waste of time to try, at the very best. There was no need to provoke the man. He will come to us when he’s ready to speak. And we couldn’t make any decisions about what to do about that situation until you were awake anyway.” Her eyebrow raised. “And what are we going to do? About that, and the rest of it.”

After exchanging a glance with his wife, Sterling answered slowly. “As far as Robert goes, we’ll make it known that it’s time to talk. He’ll come to us. I’m not… thrilled that he killed Pittman before we could so much as talk to the man, but I think we all understand why he did. Especially after what happened. That man was a threat to Cassidy and Simon. Robert knows that.

“And as for the rest of it, it sounds like there’s a lot of work to do. But first of all, I think it’s time to make a few calls and arrange for a certain assortment of overachieving Touched to go on vacation.” He paused, frowning thoughtfully. “You know, considering our line of work, I should probably clarify that I mean an actual vacation.” He grinned then, opening his mouth.

“Please,” Elena interrupted, “we’ve been out of our comas for less than eight hours. Don’t do your gangster impression.”

Visibly deflating, Sterling lamented, “You see that? She never lets me have any fun.”

Elena patted his back, offering her husband an encouraging smile. “Fun will come in its time. For now, you’re right about us having a lot of work ahead of us. Even if we can’t leave this room, there’s still plenty of things we can set in motion.”

“Ahem,” Tricia put in pointedly, drawing their attention back to her. “Motion, trotion, you haven’t let me finish filling you in on everything that happened.”

“There’s more?” Sterling managed, a bit blankly.

Tricia scoffed at that. “Well, of course there’s more. We haven’t even made it to Echo’s return, the deaths of the other Scions, or the army of cybernetically-enhanced animals who were about to be loosed upon the city before your son put a stop to that particular plot.”

Sterling’s head tilted slowly, as he considered her. “You’re making up that last one, right?”

“I most certainly am not.” Tricia looked offended by the very suggestion. “Though I should say he didn’t solve that situation on his own. He had some help from our newest recruit.

“A very special TONI cat, who calls herself Bailey.”