November was still trying to wrap his head around the whole news that his little sister, Stacey Calhoun whom he dropped off at Mrs. Thompson's had gone missing. No, not missing but kidnapped. Abducted by Mrs. Thompson herself. Good God.

The jovial, seventy-two years old woman warmly took his sister off his hands and pulled her in, with a smile hanging on her lips.

There he was, having quirks and his sister was missing on this same day.

Why? He had been asking himself for over twenty minutes as he watched his mom throw a tantrum and the police officers repeating the same 'Calm down, Mrs. Calhoun' until they drove off in their car.

Hands on his hips, November paced back and forth on the flattened grass area, pondering why Mrs. Thompson would kidnap a four-year-old. What exactly were her intentions? 

He figured he had to do something before it gets to the next day. And needed Macey Brightside right now, the girl he was trying to stay away from because of her assertiveness that might lead them into trouble. He needed Macey Brightside to help him rescue his sister from the old woman.

He took his mom in, wrapped a jacket around her shuddering shoulders, gave her a glass of water, and told her to calm down.

Harriet Brightside was worried to death, she had this gruesome thought of her youngest child being chopped into mincemeat and sold around the black market.

"I heard!" It was Macey. The first thing she did upon her arrival was to run to an anxious November's room. This time she passed in through the front door, and side-stepped Harriet Calhoun and her dad in the sitting room.

November was a tad relieved when he saw Macey Brightside. And they snuck out through his window in search of Stacey. November floated out at first and used his quirk to weightlessly pull Macey out. He didn't know how to fly yet, but could only float.

Three hours, they spent searching for Stacey Calhoun. November was growing worried and restless as time flew by. It was 8 pm already and he was having a headache from overthinking. He was tense, losing focus, and couldn't concentrate on anything.

Stacey was just four, unmarked by anything. His little sister was out in the dangerous streets of Indianapolis with a kidnapper. A city with over 890,000 residents. 

November blew out an explosive breath and then paused in front of Castleton square, hoping for a moment, that the sneaky old woman took Stacey there and they were all working themselves out by claiming it was a kidnap. 

Why would Mrs. Thompson do such a thing?

"Every superhero has a weakness, I wonder what's yours." Macey stood by his side, pulling her black hair back in a girlish braid.

And November found himself thinning his lips in exasperation, "Really? That's what matters right now?" He glared at her.

"Aye, captain. We will find Stacey Calhoun tonight whether the devil likes it or not." Macey mimicked his British accent as she tucked her hands in her skirt's pockets. "Now what was Superman's weakness?"

"I don't know, this tiny piece of green rock? I'm one of the few people on earth who haven't seen that overrated flop of a movie." 

Macey shot him an offended look.

"It's not overrated, it's worth the hype. And Superman's weakness was Kryptonite, not a green rock."

"Seems the same to me, kryptonite, glowing green rock."

"It was found in Krypton, Superman's home. Everything else has its own weakness."

"Including Kryptonite?"

"Yes. It melts in the sun. Although it's not real. There's this scientific proof that it's a boring-looking white harmless substance."

November paused, narrowing his eyes in their sockets, "why are we having this conversation? We have an even pressing issue at hand!"

"To lighten up your mood," Macey answered.

"Well, you suck at it." He flashed her a scandalized look.

Macey feigned being offended.

"We've been circling this city for the past three hours, no doubt our parents think we're missing too. But that's nothing to worry about because we're pre-adults. I need you to think, Calhoun. Use that quirky brain of yours. Now I can't do anything else, other than to make my body twist like any object. But…" November didn't let Macey continue talking as he interrupted her.

"Have you ever considered dropping out of school and sustaining a public speaking job?"

"I beg your pardon?" Macey blinked, confused.

"You know, there should've been another name before Macey? What's that word again for a talkative and incessant person? Right, a motormouth. Sheriff Brightside could've named you Motormouth-Macey," November taunted then stepped right ahead of her, jamming his shoulder against hers in the process.

"Hey! Take that back!" Macey yelled, running after him.

"Well, it's not my fault that you have a dingle-dick!" She retorted and November stopped dead in his tracks. Dingle-dick was Chase and Ivar's favorite insult for him and now Macey called him that too?

They walked around for some time, searching over the city, hoping to see Mrs. Thompson and Stacey. November was beginning to undergo a great disorder of uncertainty with the fear that Stacey would never be found.

Images of his crying mom flashed through his brain and for a moment he felt like crying too. But he was a boy and now the man of the family since his dad left. So he had to be strong because tough men didn't cry, right? Even though things were fucked up and they were going through the shittiest of the shitty. 

His heart was sick, thoughts filled with fear, eyes twitching and blinking back tears. There was this hole of emptiness, violently boring into his chest as he grabbed onto a pole to relieve his head from unstableness.

He was seeping into depression because he knew his mom would never recover if they didn't find Stacey. 

Could it be the quirks were passed on to him as in exchange for his sister?

November felt all shades of worst.

Macey tried to cheer him up, cracked an old Grandma joke, while he just stared straight at the moving train on the subway, using his quirks to speed-survey the faces on the train, with high hopes of finding his sister.

Macey facepalmed in distress and started to genuinely worry about him.

They searched over the city, going through nook and cranny, abandoned houses, bushy surroundings, under bridges, churches, and retirement homes, walked around streets in the dark, observed homeless street panhandling kids, yet Stacey Calhoun could not be found.

It was nearing nine pm when November received a call from his mom that Stacey was found and she was on her way to the station.

Excitement shot through him and his hand began vibrating in a fast motion.

"What in the hell is that? Is this another quirk of yours?" A stupefied Macey asked.

"I don't know," 

She stepped forward to touch his heart.

"Oh my god, your heart is racing."

And it all happened in a swift motion when November ran through the city at a speed, with Macey in his hands. What took them three hours to walk around, took November's newly birthed quirk ten seconds. And they spring up at the station.

Stirring up a strong wind that messed up paperworks at the entire station like it was produced by a large pressure gradient.

Police officers had their jaws dropping. Someone's teaspoon even slipped off his mouth and collided with the floor.

Macey's heart took a leap so high that she nearly fainted, as she looked at November who still had her in his arms. She couldn't believe what just happened. An indescribable feeling which was completely out of this world was seeping through her, transporting chills to her spine and generating goosebumps on her pores.

Her hair was still a flying mess from the aftermath of the super-speed, and November was kind enough to pat on it, before letting her down.

It was at that time Harriet Calhoun and Sheriff Brightside bursted in.

"Max, did you find Mrs. Thompson?"

"Officer, where is my daughter?"

November's mom and Macey's dad asked at once.

The officer paused for a moment, contemplating on who to answer at first. His boss or the crazed-looking mother whose eyebrows were black like she got punched in the face.

 

"Sir, we couldn't find the woman," then he turned to Harriet Calhoun, "over there." He pointed straight ahead of him where a kid was being interrogated by another police officer. She was the same height as Stacey, had the same blonde curls. But she was clad in a different outfit.

Something was a bit odd.

November stood aback as his mom ran towards Stacey and pulled her in a hug from behind.

It was when Stacey pushed Harriet Calhoun away, that they all knew it wasn't Stacey but someone else. Another fucking child with a completely different face.

November's stomach churned as his mom staggered backward, completely losing it. She almost fell but he used his telekinesis quirk in slowing down time and made her gain her balance. But she still ended up in Sheriff Brightside's arms.

"I want my baby," she wailed and Stacey found herself tearing up as well. 

November closed his eyes tightly in their sockets until he felt numb. He couldn't feel anything for a moment.

"I would give anything to have my baby back…" His mom let her knees give out underneath her as she slipped to the floor and wept.

Stacey Calhoun.

November knew he would give anything just to see her. To clasp her small hands in his, to watch his mom soothe her to sleep because she was growing a tooth.

He wanted to take her to the beach, to see the light in her eyes when she was elated, and the dull brownness when she was sad.

He wanted to carry her on his shoulders so they could stroll into the grocery shop and she wouldn't have to climb a ladder to get herself her favorite Cheerios.

He couldn't believe Stacey Brightside, his younger sister who prepared a trashy sandwich for him the previous day, right before the Alien-invasion, was kidnapped by a woman they trusted. He could remember eating the sandwich and pretending it was fine just so he wouldn't hurt her feelings.

The door burst open, and two police officers dragged in a hand-cuffed old man who was hollering insults at everyone he laid his eyes on. November looked closely and realized it was Burp, the troublesome old man who loved taunting his boss.

"What's his offense?" Sheriff Brightside left Hattie's side and faced his men.

"He was caught selling drugs to teens."

 "He's currently high on those drugs." They provided this response.

"Ahh, aren't you the little piece of shit who works for that bastard, Ravenscourt?" The old man directed this to November who had his hands on his sobbing mom's shoulders.

"Do not talk to him like that!" Macey warned, seething in anger.

Burp sucked on his cheeks then spat at Macey.

Before the milky-white spittle could land on a flinching Macey's face, November held it still and then splashed it back on the sender's face. Stirring up laughter from the cops.

No one knew what happened, they thought the old man tried to spit on Macey and his spittle ended up pouring on him.

"Take him away!" Sheriff Brightside ordered and his men obliged.

November paced back and forth, he knew he needed to do something to bring his sister back to his broken mother. He had to do some findings about Mrs. Thompson.

"Macey, let's go!" He yelled, startling everyone.

"To where?" Sheriff Brightside asked when his daughter went to join the boy.

"To find Stacey," Macey answered her father.

"You kids aren't going anywhere. You'll stay and head home with Harriet."

"But she's out there!" Macey argued.

"Young woman, you'll stay out of this and let me do my job." Sheriff gritted out. "And you too," he pointed at November. "Take your mom home."

But it was already too late. Macey jumped in November's arms and he carried her in a bridal style. 

At this point, November didn't care if his mom or anyone else would figure he had superpowers. Macey did too, and they were going to deal with it because he needed to save his sister.

Both parents stared at their kids in puzzlement and before they could utter any word, the kids disappeared right in front of their eyes in a big gust of wind, like guardian angels.