Being in charge was awesome… until something went wrong. True to life, the trouble all hit at once. Zaid was a trouble magnet. The Ranger was off the map and some scary dudes had tried to sniff up any and all information they could about him while Jude did his best to keep them out of the more… sensitive information. Blackforest Tactical was balancing on the edge of a knife. He should be forgiven for missing the note about a missing club bouncer.

Except that club bouncer had been a better role model and friend to Jude than any of his fathers, real or adopted. He would never forgive himself if she was in trouble and he could have helped.

There was next to zero information to go off of. Chief didn’t show up to work. Being acting head of security gave Jude the permission needed to enter Haven and visit the surveillance area. They even let him review the security feed in the common areas, they let him poke about in her room. But as far as he could tell, she’d walked out the front door one day of her own volition. She’d planned to come back. She’d planned to carry on as normal.

Something had interrupted that normal.

So he did what any semi-desperate, power borrowing mutant would— He went to find Gwen, his secret hobo roomate of years past. She famously did not want to be found, but Jude didn’t harbor a fugitive for 5 years without learning a few things about her… one sandwich bribe and a high five later, he was navigating the trickiest power he’d ever used. Finding one single person in a city of millions was a needle in a haystack situation. Every mental presence was a distraction that threatened to tip his focus out of balance.

And then… then there was the fact that Chief, as he remembered her, couldn’t be found. Whatever metric Gwen’s power used looks or memory or… whatever… it was leading Jude around in circles.

He stuffed his scarf into his coat to guard better against the cold and wished that he’d remembered his gloves. Jude was sure she was alive. He was sure she was close. He would walk around and knock on doors if he had to.

"Where are you?"

In a way, winter was a more sympathetic season to be homeless during. Christmas was a time of giving, which meant even the prawn could get some handouts from benevolent strangers. This did nothing to improve the pervasive chill in the air and the constant fear of snow. The prawn had cobbled together a decent makeshift winter outfit-- feet wrapped in rags and duct tape, a ragged coat and sleeping bag, a hat and scarf. With the shear degree of layers, it was enough to keep warm so long as she stayed dry.

She sat huddled in a storefront, her legs folded up against her chest. The afternoon was filled with a lull of half-sleep and gnawing hunger. She looked like little more than a pile of fabric. Most people knew well enough to leave her alone. The creature half-watched the passerby's, who paid her little heed.

Someone passed, a young brunette man, whose eyes seemed to be canvassing the area. The creature sat a little taller… his face… there was something about his face (the top half of it, at least)... that was familiar.

The prawn unfolded herself from the ground… hesitated… what if he worked for the Doctor? If he hauled her back. Her feet moved reflexively.

No… his face was… too kind for that.

The prawn trotted after him, trying to get a better look at him, but the scarf was in the way. She stumbled over an icy patch, nearly slipping-- she was so distracted.

He was getting away-! She had to stop him! But how?

Prawn-y fingers clasped the hem of the young man's sleeve and tugged insistently. A confused burble rose in her throat. She couldn't let him get away, not before she figured out who he is.

Something caught his sleeve and immediately Jude was at war. He hadn’t come out here to do charity. He couldn’t be distracted when his mission to find Chief was so urgent. Disgust and sympathy fought which stopped him in his tracks. He had been there. But there was the last place he wanted to be now.

Someone had tugged and the tug persisted. And… his power thrummed at his core. Mutant.

The people walking were not so plentiful that stopping on the sidewalk they made a scene. New York sidewalks ran like a chilly stream, unbothered by obstructions so long as there was ample room to squeeze by on either side. He could have kept walking. He could have pretended he didn’t notice.

But what if they’d taken his wallet?

He swung around to see a rag child. Uh. No, actually, the person was hunched and trying not to be as tall as they could. Easily, they could have hit six feet, but as they stood, they were nearly eye-to-eye at the upper end of five feet. Something, despite the size, screamed immature or incomplete about it… about… lavender eyes in a rainbow swirl of carapace.

”Chief?” He squeezed her hand and reached out for her hood, just to be sure. But he already knew. His borrowed power had been thrumming in his chest like a strummed guitar, resonating against the idea of Chief that he'd been trying to find.

She expected the man to swat at her hand. Why wouldn't he? A stranger was tugging at his sleeve on a bustling city street. The creature was wrapped in rags, besides which, and double-bent and distinctly inhuman. He didn't recoil, or lash-out. His hand grasped for hers, and another reached for the makeshift hood covering her head.

The creature froze, its eyes wide. An uncertain chirr broke out of her throat.

And that one syllable-- "Chief?"-- it rung in her ears like a bell. Familiar.

"Chief?"

Was she Chief?

She saw flashes of a gang battle on unfamiliar city streets, someone was screaming "Chief" over and over. Gunshots. The creature was running scared. Her throat was raw from scream-crying. The creature was holding someone in her arms-- who was it? Who was it? Her gang. Her family. Where was her real family? Everyone had families... who cared. Her gang was her family.

And who was he? Someone safe. Someone who knew her name. Chief.

Chief breathed a few inuisitve clicks, angling her face away from the hand that grasped her hood. Chief allowed the hood to be pulled back. Wind whistled past her spiny cheeks, her antennae stirred in the breeze.

She rose a hand towards his face, as well, reaching for an answer. Who was he? How did he know that name?

If the man would let her, Chief would pull him into a hug, grasping for some sense of familiarity. Her large, three-fingered hands would curl into the fabric of his coat, and her head would tuck into his shoulder. She felt like she should know him. It was a feeling that went beyond memory-- it was instinct. Her body knew to hug and trust and take care of this person, even if her mind was lost somewhere in the wind.

The creature gave a contented trill.

Finally, Chief was found.

He said her name a few more times, at least, he tried. She seemed a bit spaced out and that gave him the briefest time to look her over for obvious malady. There was no knife sticking out her front, but still the illusion of wrongness persisted. Shouldn't she have been taller? Her hood fell back and... it was definitely Chief, but not quite the Chief he knew.

She searched his eyes and touched his face. What was she looking for, exactly?

"Jacquelyn?" It was cheating, but he knew more than he should considering his relationship with Haven's security. So he tried using her real name, the name listed on her paperwork. Jacquelyn Dyer? It's me. Jude. Your—" his voice broke and she leaned forward into the hugging arms he threw around her. It's your son. He'd been about to say. By blood or technicality, they weren't anything, but Chief had been a constant for him in a world of inconsistency.

"I was looking for you everywhere."

He choked back a quiet sob at the smell, the state of her dress, the blank look in her eyes. It was hitting him now that something really might have happened to her, even if he couldn't see what exactly had happened he felt that she was physically smaller. She was confused. She wasn't talking, either?

Oh. Oh boy. Any time memory issues came into the picture, Jude had a solid lead on who to blame, but this time Noel was solidly out of the question. But the size thing... did she get shrunk?

Jude hastily wiped his face with the back of his hand and pulled Chief's... Jack's? hood back up before putting his arm as best he could around her shoulder-area. She might be smaller, but she still was not small.

"Come on. I think we should get out of this cold. I know a place where—" He stopped. Where they served apple pie? Yeah. She didn't like to eat in front of people and he assumed that could be an issue. Besides, he still hadn't ruled out that she had a concussion or needed something more than a good, hot shower.

He could take her home. The honeycomb collective was a miniature mutant haven, but the conditions weren't ideal considering his small room and the very real and very large dogs that took up most of it right now. His bed would probably collapse under the weight of all four of them, and that wasn't even taking space into account.

Zaid's apartment? He couldn't impose. Even if this was an emergency, it was a bit harder to explain. Jude figured that he could take her home to her own apartment at Haven, but after glancing back at her again, he thought she might need a little more supervision than that. At least until she got her bearings back.

"I know a place where we can get warm, but it's kind of far. Would you take the bus with me? I have enough on my pass for us both."

The name Jacquelyn didn't call anything to mind-- and the addition of a surname did little to help. Chief burbles faintly at that. If he knew her, then he had to know her name, right? But it didn't fit just right. It was like trying to wear someone else's shoes. Even if they were the right size, they were worn in all the wrong places.

The hug felt good, though. The boy crumpled in Chief's arms, his voice cracking as he spoke. Jude. Jude. What a beautiful name. She didn't know it, but she liked it. And whatever he was, he was something to Chief at some point. The prawn pushed a grubby hand into the boy's hair, patting his head. Her eyes couldn't help but well-- in relief of having found someone, out of the frustration of not knowing who.

Yes, Jude, but who was Jude?

Someone important. Someone who'd been looking for her. Everywhere.

But who?

And then the hug was over, Jude mopping his face, Chief lingering uncertainly. She nibbled her primary finger, wiping away tears with her free hand. She couldn't remember. She just couldn't remember anything.

When he spoke again, Chief lifted her gaze. He wanted to go elsewhere, somewhere warm. It sounded too good to be true. Chief scrunched her eyes shut tight, trying to keep the tears from overflowing, and she nodded her head. A sorrowful chirr escaped her.

She wanted to tell Jude everything, but it was so cold. She didn't think her hands could hold a pencil. But then he proposed taking a bus… to what the prawn assumed to be a safe-house. She nodded emphatically. The Doctor couldn't find her, or hurt her, in a safe-house. They'd sooner be shot by the other gang members that lived there.

Chief nodded. Hidden in the folds of her makeshift sleeping-bag winter coat was the messenger bag that Andrea had given her. So she had all of the possessions she owned. Not knowing how far the bus stop was, though, and not knowing if the Doctor or an ally of theirs was near, the prawn drew her hood again.

She nodded with finality to the boy, burbling softly. Chief pinched the sleeve of his coat so as not to lose track of him, and looked up at him, eyes still wet from tears, but smiling.

He'd been afraid that she might bolt, but she seemed every bit as relieved to have found him as he was that he'd found her.

She nodded her assent. Okay. They were going to be okay.

Jude wondered what she had done with her voice box. Or had that just been an app on her phone? There was no way she was on the streets and had a phone. It just didn't happen like that. He ushered Chief over to the nearest bus shelter and tried to make sense of the schedule that flapped in the wind. Not too long now, assuming he was reading it correctly.

He sat them both down on the bench and the woman who had been sitting there previously got up and gave them space. That was probably a good thing, but it was likely that the shelter would only get more crowded the closer their bus got. Jude kept his arm around Chief in the meantime. For warmth, so she wouldn't get away, and to claim her. This Chief was his to protect, smells and appearances be damned.

He got out his phone to find a text-to-speech app, and in the meantime tried to talk through nothing important and nothing alarming. He just wanted her to know that he was still there and he didn't know what she knew and what she didn't.

"I don't know if you know but I still live at the honeycomb collective. Some people have moved in, there's a new girl. I forget her name-- it starts with a z I think-- anyway she already doesn't like me. At the last potluck-- did I ever invite you to a potluck? I should invite you to a potluck. --At the last potluck she tried to make a move on the guy I invited which was uncool..."

The bus arrived with a sigh of breaks and Jude ushered chief to her feet. He made sure she got on first and then double scanned his bus pass. By the time they were seated, the text-to-speech app he'd been installing on his phone was ready. He opened it up and passed the phone to Chief.

The prawn followed the young man, lavender eyes wide, keeping close to him. Her look was something bewildered-- after all this time, she'd finally found someone she knew...

The two took a seat in the bus shelter, side by side, and the boy wrapped his arm around the creature. Chief nestled as close as her shroud of rags and blankets would allow. She rested her chin upon his shoulder, and watched with wonderment at the device in his hands.

She'd never seen anything quite like it. It glowed, bright as day, on its own volition, and seemed to be divided into tiles. Clicking a certain place on the screen dictated where it could go. The prawn clicked a few times, then whistled, pointing at the smartphone inquiringly.

Jude carried the conversation, thankfully, but it was still mostly drivel to the creature. She didn't know what the Honeycomb Collective was-- a residence, allegedly-- where they had potlucks.

Chief sighed. At least she understood the word "potluck". Food... food sounded good. The gathering crowd of people was regarded with darting eyes-- the prawn looked around for the Doctor, the Dangerous Woman-- saw no one. Jude was pulling her to her feet.

The creature made some pitiful, reluctant noise, almost like a mewl. While the bus had sounded like a good idea, in concept, it was now proving to be quite daunting. Jude would be met with more resistance when Chief was urged onto the bus ahead of him. She wouldn't walk too far ahead of him, dragging her feet, chirring in confusion.

They would find a seat towards the back, Chief nestling herself against the window, Jude taking the seat beside her. He surrendered the device to her. The prawn cupped it in both hands, as if inspecting a small creature or fragile curio. She'd seen Jude touch the screen, and mimicked his gesture.

An entire keyboard appeared on the bottom half of the screen. The prawn gave another low whistle. She thought she understood the boy's intentions now. It was like a computer's keyboard, but contained in the breadth of a backlit screen. She could type to him.

With one, cautious finger, the prawn typed a message. Despite all of the care with which she wrote, however, her massive hands still flubbed words here-and-there. She hit "Enter", and a robotic voice dictated her message.

"Where sare wwe goin?" the device intoned "To tjhe boss? To the hokneycomb?"

Chief made a startled noise and dropped it, withdrawing her hands. She had never heard a machine talk like that before. The prawn held her hands to her chest as if it had stung her, looking to Jude for answers.

She threw the phone and Jude stared wide-eyed at where it lay on the ground for a full heartbeat. That was... okay. Zaid had already cracked it and it still worked. This was somewhat less embarrassing than that, but no less alarming. Chief certainly seemed to be alarmed.

"Where are we going? There's a school that's a kind of safe house." He didn't like just shouting about a Mansion and mutants on the bus. She should know that one, though. "It's bigger than it has any right to be, but there's no...boss? I don't know what boss you're talking about." He tried to be patient, The Mansion was a place she should have known since she'd worked there a bit. And yet very clearly did not recognize its description.

But... the boss? That one had him bamboozled.

Jude picked his phone up off the rubber foot traffic mat. No harm, no foul. He reopened the app and cleared everything so that they could start over again, this time Jude assumed she knew nothing... just in case.

"The apartments where I live are called "The Honeycomb Collective." But the rooms are small and I don't do much there besides sleep. I know that at the school there is a man who can heal, there's food, lots of security in place because there are kids around." Would the parents of those kids want someone like Chief around? Jude dismissed that concern. She'd literally already been there as a part of that security structure they had in place.

How was this possible? Jude tried very, very hard not to knot his eyebrows and show his concern. He was getting her help. That was step 1.

He held the phone back out to her main hands if she wanted it as the bus bumped along. With the running lights on and the heater humming, it was almost a cheerful ride. If nothing else, it was much better than being outside. "This is my phone. I'm sorry it surprised you, but please don't drop it. It's a little bit broken already." He pointed out the cracks in the screen.

"So... who's the boss?" He glanced out the window to be sure they hadn't missed their stop, but busses were slow going and the Mansion wasn't exactly nearby.