Elli dropped her duffle into the back of the idling old pick-up truck parked in front of her grandmother's house. There was more rust than orange paint left on the body, and nothing but rust in the bed. She scrunched her nose at the desperate state of the vehicle.

"Don't care for 'the beast'?" Trevor came up behind her, chuckling as he laid her suitcase next to the duffle bag. Everything she could carry now rested in rust.

"That's all right; you can ride with me."

Elli glanced over at his sleek, silver sedan. Up until a few hours ago, the suggestion of getting into Trevor's car would send her heart fluttering with joy and anticipation, but right now she couldn't stand the thought of being cooped up alone with the psychic blonde behind the wheel. It was hard to admit, but she'd rather take her chances with the rough, aggravating Samuel. A stranger seemed welcome change from the man she thought her teacher was.

"Are you done with your goodbyes or should we waste half the night?" Samuel growled from the other side of the truck.

"Sam." Trevor admonished.

"It's okay." Elli forced herself to remain as calm as she could, casting one last look to the lit porch where her grandmother stood, arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Elli had never seen her grandmother look so frail, and it broke her heart. She quickly glanced away before she lost her nerve to do what was asked of her. She pulled her jacket around her and took a steadying breath.

"Let's go."

Trevor opened the rust bucket's passenger door for her, and she climbed in, buckled up, and folded into herself as the leather seat creaked under her, leeching away her warmth. She didn't dare look at the little Millhouse again. She would fall apart if she saw her grandmother still standing there.

Samuel didn't say anything as he slid into the seat beside her, gunned the engine, and sped away from the only home she could remember having. She quietly observed the world outside the window grow unfamiliar as they drove down the empty streets leading away from the small town of Briarwood, heading north. The only other time she'd left the sleepy little town was the night that her friend from high school Clara, had dragged her to the Songbird for her birthday on a weekend trip into the city.

Elli shifted, peeking out the side of her eye at Samuel's profile. His eyes focused on the road; she took a moment to study his features leisurely. She absently wondered what he would look like without a beard as her eyes drifted to his hands on the steering wheel, and she caught the flash of a tattoo on his left hand. She frowned, realizing she'd not noticed it before—

"You have something you want to say?" Samuel's voice still held a gravel note to it, but she was starting to think that was just part of his tough guy personality.

"What's your tattoo?" It was what was on her mind, so why not ask?

He glanced at her between passing headlights, his expression unreadable. After a few moments, Elli started to think he wasn't going to answer her.

"I'm surprised you noticed it." His gaze dropped briefly to his hands on the wheel.

Elli furrowed her brow, confused. The tattoo was kind of hard to miss—some bird splayed across the thenar space of his left hand, wing tips tickling the knuckles.

Samuel cleared his throat. "It's a sparrow—an American Cliff Sparrow, to be exact."

"Oh." Elli admired the little red-throated bird a moment longer.

"Did your cover-up rub off or something? I don't remember seeing it earlier."

"Something like that." His lip turned upward.

"Is it a psychic thing?" she groaned.

"Something like that." he repeated, full on smile spreading.

"All right, I'm not catching that bait... so is it a secret or something-- the tattoo?"

"Not really, just easier not to have any distinguishing marks while undercover."

Elli scoffed. They were back to the super-spy conspiracy thing anyway.

"Then why get a tattoo in the first place?" she couldn't keep the annoyance out of her voice.

He glanced at her and shrugged. "Blame my rebellious nature."

"Puh-lease."

"Well, then maybe I was young and stupid when I got it."

"More likely." She gruffly agreed.

"Watch it, String Bean." He teased.

Not wanting the address the nickname issue, Elli sighed and looked back out into the night beyond the truck.

"Where are we going?"

"North-ish." His vague answer wasn't surprising.

"How do you know my grandma? Tell me about how you met her."

His eyes darted over to her again.

"Maybe the radio would be better—"

"No." she growled. "You got me into this truck by getting to my grandma. This whole thing is impossible for me to comprehend. I have no idea if I can handle whatever this Quantum thing is, or do whatever it is Trevor expects from me—"

She ran her hands through her hair, pulling in frustration. "So I need you to talk to me. I want you just to talk and take my mind off all this insanity for a little while."

He let out a matched frustrated sigh. "Well, then telling you about your grandmother probably isn't the best of topics."

She stared at him, her lips drawn into a thin line. She didn't know if she wanted to punch him or scream more. The urge to cry was winning. Maybe she should've made herself ride with Trevor, Trevor would have accepted her request, and Trevor would know how to put her mind at ease—

"But if that's really what you want to talk about," Samuel deflated. "Then I'll oblige you, just this once."

"Yes." She pleaded, her anger vanishing.

"O...kay." The gruffness of his tenor softened a bit, closer to the velvet tone she remembered from the first time they met.

"The first time I met your grandmother, I was fourteen, and she had taken over command of the program that watched over us.... There were ten kids, in all, I think. Me and Trevor, of course... I think Reach had joined us by then, and we were just getting into the rebellious stage where we'd had enough of authority..."