Not Until We Are Lost

New York was the place of Betsy's heart. She loved it there. It was vast, with many sorts. High fashion. Elegance. There were dirty parts, of course, but she generally ignored those. She had enough money that it really didn't matter. Anything that Elizabeth Braddock did not want to acknowledge as living just didn't get any attention. It was a spoiled way of living, and she didn't give a shit.

She'd been holed up in Magneto's shithole for too long. Betsy might have stayed on indefinitely if she'd had Brian there to keep her in line. But he was missing. Off somewhere doing... whatever he did when he wasn't with her. Betsy didn't really like to think of Brian doing anything without her. There shouldn't be a life if the two of them weren't side by side.

But she was on her way to him now. The phone call she'd received had been odd. Even without the mystery behind it, Betsy would have gone, because Brian was calling for her. The fact that she didn't know the whole story just worried her. It also made her a little angry, honestly. Worry stood above it, for Brian. For her twin.

"Bets. ... gotta come down he... you'll never bel... seriousl..."

"Brian? I can't hear you, you're cutting out. Where the fuck are you? Brian?"

"... azing things ... I've see... I need you to ... please, Betsy..."

"If you're telling me to come pick you up, Brian Braddock, you had better not be drunk."

"...ebeth... I need you to fin... eas... ets... I'm in ... tric City..."

"Brian? BRIAN? You're seriously cutting out. Please. I can't hear what you want!"

"Electric City, Betsy. Come find me."

The silence on the line after his last words, not just the tone of a phone that had been hung up, but the white noise emptiness, had worried Betsy. The monotone of his words. Brian had never sounded like that when he'd spoken to her. Not ever. There was always something in his tone, even when he didn't particularly want to speak to her, she knew that he cared. This was so alien sounding, so different.

Betsy had not even left a note for the others. She'd just hijacked one of the cars and began to drive. Where the fuck was Electric City? In all her years at school, not one map had ever shown her such a place. Of course, she'd failed geography and had only ever put effort into memorizing about half of the US capitals. So she wasn't really the best gauge of what cities might or might not really be in America.

Her plan was to drive until she needed gas, then ask for directions when she stopped. She would get to Electric City, however. Or a lot of people were going to see just what happened when Elizabeth Braddock got angry.

Once the sun had set, and Phaedra was free to move around, she relocated herself from her portion of the house to the kitchen.

And she waited.

She sat on top of the kitchen table, legs crossed under her. She wore a black pair of fitted jeans, her boots, and a simple black tank top. Something about the combination of this almost made her look fragile.

Her back was utterly straight, and she didn't move. She didn't need to.

She'd been tracking the new minds--or, more accurately, the minds that had somehow come back--and she was waiting for Harry.

It wouldn't be long.