I hate sneaking around to the back. We're already tired and unsurprisingly, the plant is unheated, so we're traversing cold, bare rooms for hours on a Saturday morning on a 'full day outing' that we've kept vague as possible to our respective families. Never mind that we'll also be out Sunday night as a group- we've become accustomed to dodging questions like bullets and making alibis.

Harper shivers in her cloak as we approach the room in the far back. It's a mirror of the entry room, save for the door, and there are dozens of overhead passages instead of a few. Where the port stands in the back is a large metal door. Between us and the door is a man with a mask on his face.

At first I think he was deliberately sent in as a guard, but when he sees us he dashes for the door, which remains unyielding. He bangs on it several times, then goes for the large button on the door, and Serena dashes forwards with the pole. Megan lobs a blast of water forwards, and in an extraordinarily lucky instance of teamwork, Serena knocks his mask skywards as the man falls backwards. The man falls onto his back, drenched, and Megan flinches. "Sir? You alright?"

One of Harper's shadows grabs the mask and returns it to her, and Harper picks the Diosite out of the circuitry. Sirens begin to whine overhead, and I hear the distant clank of machinery. The man lies flat, staring at the ceiling, and Megan dashes over to his side.

"Sir?"

"Siren, you almost knocked him out. Do you think he's okay?" Serena asks.

"Says the one who was half an inch from opening his face like a piñata." Megan snipes back.

Evan yells with glee from the corner of the room, "Sick burns, Meg."

The man clenches his head. "It's gone."

"He's conscious." Evan says. "And not trying to kill us. That's a first."

"You were told to leave." he states.

"And speaking in incredibly vague statements. Can't ask for everything, I guess."

"He's in pain, Evan!" Megan says, trying to help the man up. "Sir. We're here to help. You're under the possession of Diosite, an incredibly dangerous material which-"

The man stands on his own, and grabs for the mask and places it back on his face. "I can't feel them."

"Who the fuck is 'them'?" asks Evan.

"It is a machine." he says. "Like a virus, seeking to replicate. Fourty-seven. That's the split number, with the largest piece embedded at the heart of the power plant. They're working on a device that when implanted, will be able to emit signals similar to how it effects us."

"Who's they?" asks Megan, kindly.

"Unbelievable." Evan yells in the background. His fists flare up. "Not to ruin the party, but we're going to have company in a second."

The man's fingers twitch at the mask. "Us. Or, I was... I was new. It hadn't even informed me of passcodes yet. It knows. I don't. My partner was supposed to meet me here momentarily."

A metal snake peers around the corner. "I don't suppose that's your partner, is it." I say.

His eyes are glossy, like those of a dead man. Seeing an adult like this is so unnerving I can't bear to look, and I'm not sure if the emotion that floods me now is remorse or guilt. The discomfort is almost tangible in the air. "No. He'll fix me up, though. You should run." One of the microphone-headed robots enters, large and serpentine, and the doors slam shut behind it. The man raises his arms, as if to welcome it, his mask askew on his face. "He'll fix me."

Evan runs for the left door, which slams shut. The right door follows. Evan leaps the robot and slams a blazing fist into the door, but it doesn't even dent. Sparks filling the air, he tries again, and Megan blasts the robot in the face before it hits him. More of that beautiful distorted screeching fills the air.

"We're stuck." Evan yells.

"No we aren't. Right staircase. There are no doors, and if we take some detours, we can make it up. We'll have to hurry before the main security system kicks in. The machine already knows we're here." Serena says, hustling up the stairs.

She slams another pole into the head of the beast, which bays, "CEASE CURRENT ACTIVITY-", and the rest of us hustle up, leaving our lead behind. Harper still has the Diosite shard clenched in her hand, and that small sense of victory carries us through the halls, whose passageways twist and close, snapping like teeth, always a second too slow to catch us.

"Nice call, Serena." I say as we pass.

"I studied the map." Serena says, falling to her knees as we exit the facility and disappear into the Veins. When we're back inside, Anthem watches us, almost impressed.

"I can't believe we found this." Harper holds up the shard. "It might be what activates the doors into the interior facility."

My face breaks into a manic grin. "If we get this, we might get into wherever they're forging these machines from, or where the Diosite proper is located. We could start knocking people out, reclaiming shards, get them on the defensive. We could have this done by March. Maybe even February!" I say, flooded with energy.

"Just in time for exams!" Harper flashes me her biggest grin.

"You know me, sister." Serena says, patting her shoulder.

"Speaking of plans," I say, and Megan smiles.

"Holiday party?" asks Harper, her face still alight.

"Holiday party. Tomorrow." Megan says, "You'd better be prepared. I want the most gaudy Christmas or non-denominational holiday gear you can find. If I'm the only one embarrassing myself, I'm never going to host again."

"I think the best I can do is a red t-shirt." Harper says. "I'm going home for the holidays, and I didn't expect to have many friends. I read through most of the school festivities."

"That's fine! You'll be able to come, right?"

"Wellll, if a certain someone hooks me up with portals..." Harper looks to Anthem, who rolls her eyes, which is close to a 'yes' as one gets with Anthem. "But just this once. Most of tomorrow is packing, so I should be fine if I disappear into the bathroom or something. I won't be around after that, but I trust you guys not to do anything too stupid while I'm out of town."

Evan throws his hands around Megan and I. "Trusting us? With anything? There's your first mistake."

---

I pull up to Megan Briggs's house in an obnoxious red sweater, the pineapple chapstick in my pocket and two dozen homemade cookies (fine, they were from mix) atop my lap. The house is small, but it glows with light, and when I open the door I'm met by all four of my teammates. Serena is sitting in the den with eggnog, wearing a jacket that makes her look like an ice queen. Megan is in the most ridiculous Christmas sweater I've ever seen, bells, reindeer, and all, and Harper is indeed wearing a red t-shirt, though she's pasted a white piece of paper with glitter glue that says "HOLIDAY SHIRT" onto the back, which she spins to show me.

"Megan's idea." Harper beams. "You should see what she did to Evan."

Evan is wearing a black t-shirt and a Santa hat. He looks about as happy as one of those cats on the Internet forced to dress up or take baths for the amusement of the general public.

"There was a red reindeer nose too, but that's gone." Harper continues, and Evan's face flushes three extra layers of red.

"Get in here. You're going to catch cold, nerd." Megan says, clenching my arm. Her hand is warm, her house is decked with holiday decorations, and as I put my coat up I feel at home. "My siblings come in tomorrow, and there's four of them, so this is the last privacy we get." she explains. "Live it up."

"Her family is insane. Who has two live Christmas trees and poinsettias? My dad and I get one tree, the smallest they have, on a good year." Evan explains. "That said, the eggnog punch and finger food are also insanely good."

I lift the tin foil from my dish. "Speaking of cookies."

Megan takes one for herself. After one taste, she declares, "Betty Crocker. Not bad."

"How do you even-"

"I know everything, Rosenbloom. So. Basement. Holiday specials." Megan grins. "Let's go."

We do not overtly click the way we do in combat, but there's a softer kind of harmony that unites us as Megan passes the candles out and we eat outrageously sugary food while watching those creepy old stop-motion specials. Megan leads us all in choruses of every song like she was born for it, and though Harper is the only one of us who can hold a tune, we all sing our hearts out. Even Serena follows along, though she mumbles everything but the choruses.

By the more obscure stuff, we've devolved into cocoa chugging contests and pillow fights. The couches are littered with feathers and a few cookie crumbs. Evan and Harper are still going at each other in front of the TV, and the latter is giggling while Evan monologues about world conquest in between blows. When Evan finally falls into the bookshelf, which doesn't seem to affect his hard head in the least (unsurprising), Megan has to call it off, and we return to sitting quietly and watching the TV drone on about the first Kris Kringle in the background.

Around nine, Harper stands straight up. "They did dorm checks twenty minutes ago."

"Can you say you went out shopping or got lost?" Serena suggests.

"I don't think the administration will buy it. They're already super fed up with me... okay." She steadies herself, holding her exotic scented candle to her heart. "I'm going to run for it. See you all soon!"

Serena stands as well when Harper dashes out of the room, refusing Ms. Briggs's offer for a ride. "I've got some gym work with friends tomorrow." Serena says. "I'll see you three around."

"Bye, Serena!" Megan yells from the couch, but she doesn't rise to take her to the door, which might have something to do with the vicegrip Evan has on her hand.

The room seems to grow five degrees warmer. Credits roll in the background, and the TV fades to black.

"We're out of movies." Megan says.

"Does that matter?" asks Evan.

I text my parents to tell them I'll need another half hour. After I send it, I'm already wishing I'd given myself an hour instead. The three of us sit on the couch, leaning at enough an angle that none of us could get up if we tried or wanted to. Megan's mom comes in once with drinks, and we accept another round of cocoa with half-dissolved marshmallows, even though we have no intent of drinking any of it.

The world becomes soft and quiet, with the snow pouring down around us outside, and I pull in tighter. I'm stuck right in the middle, in what was a casual huddle maybe ten minutes ago, but now we're clinging together like we're hanging on for dear life. I can hear Evan's breathing, feel Megan's heartbeat in her chest, and we wait for some trivial bit of distraction to destroy the moment, all standing on the edge of somewhere we can't go yet.

The distraction never comes. We lie there together who knows how long, and as I sit between them I begin to realize what this feeling in my chest is, finally admit to myself why I'm filled with adrenaline around them even outside of battle.

Evan rests his head against my shoulder blade. "You guys know I've been crushing on you two all school year, right?"

"We could guess." Megan replies. "Do you two need to get home?"

"I don't want to go home."

"I asked if you needed to, Evan."

"Crap." he groans, drawing a hand out from my grip and into his pocket. "Do either of you have money for a bus fare?"

"Is it in your jacket?" I ask.

"I didn't bring a jacket." he responds.

"Stay right there." Megan says. "No, wait. Can you two head upstairs? I'll meet you there, I've got to run to my room."

When she comes back from upstairs, she has a large, new hoodie from our school store with her, folded. She pushes it into Evan's hands, along with twenty dollars. He puts it on, breathing in her, and presses the twenty into his pockets. His eyes are red as he steps outside, looking back.

"You're not getting away that easily," Megan says, joining him outside. I follow.

"What's up with you?" I ask. "You need to wear a jacket. It's under forty out here."

"Forgot the jacket, didn't have enough loose change for the bus fare. Didn't want to ask. My dad's working like three jobs. I've tried to help, but... anyways, he's trying to make enough money to get me to therapy, maybe put me on some meds so they can fix me. So I can focus in school."

"Shut up." Megan says.

"What?" Evan asks, looking like he was just slapped clean across the face.

"You're not broken." she promises. "Please never say that again."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, then brings another to mine. "I guess you're right. I don't feel broken when I'm with you."

Did he mean both of us? He meant both of us, right? I'm not sure if my heart jolts out of a sudden need to be part of this or because they're pulling me towards them. Both their eyes are on me, and I understand by instinct that this is a moment of solidarity. We stand in the snow, my heart confirms what I already knew, too close to them for words. Both of us.

"Do we have any clue what we're doing?" laughs Evan.

"Oh no. No way. That's why it's going to work out." Megan says. "Me and my boys. Out to save the world."

"Whatever we do, it's going to be the three of us. Together." I promise.

"Yes. Please." Evan says, at once desperate and desperately relieved.

"This is so weird." I say.

"Well, a wise man once suggested that we should just be us, because we're pretty great, and I'm inclined to agree with him." Megan says, finally breaking our grip. "You guys be safe."

"We aren't," says Evan, disappearing like a stray fox into the night. He shouts back, "but we make it work."

Megan stands, snow dusting her hair, and lets out a choked laugh. "He totally forgot his candle."

"Oh. Yeah. Uh..." I say.

Megan looks at me, her glasses shimmering with stray light from the decorations of her house. "We have to protect him, Adam."

"I know." 

My head is a mess of what just happened and am I into boys and how the hell would I ever explain this to Will but as the car pulls up, headlights flashing through the snow, I realize that this is as much a part of my double life as the powers themselves. Adam Rosenbloom could never snag Megan Briggs, would never admit that Evan might be more than a friend. Adam Rosenbloom would be at a mediocre holiday party with spiked eggnog and worse company, singing carols with half-drunk teenagers he pretended to know.

I don't feel like myself anymore, and I can't tell if that's a good thing.

As I pack in next to Will, who is singing along to our local "non-denominal holiday station", I smile but try not to speak. Anthem's magical chokehold around my neck helps and I let the moment pass as we leave the house, even though my fingers are itching for my phone. Instead, I watch the scenery and shiver in the heated car, cold underneath my jacket and burning across my hands and face.