When Billy first ran away, they took to the Internet. Facebook. Instagram. Snapchat. Nothing. Nothing. And nothing.

"The guy has no social media presence!" Eugene complained, frowning at his glowing screen. It made him so much harder to find. But that, Eugene supposed, was the point. Even knowing Billy for hardly a day had been enough to understand that Billy was extraordinarily skilled at vanishing. This fact was only reinforced by Rosa's breathless questioning echo, "Twenty-three times?"

Eugene set his phone down for a moment, vaguely disheartened. But Rosa was still on the phone with the police, Victor pacing around her, looking grim. Mary still leaned into her laptop, consumed with her search. Pedro still thumbed through his phone, scrolling steadily through page after page. And Darla still sat cross-legged on the floor, determinedly sprinkling excessive amounts of glitter on a pink poster board, faithfully expecting their newest brother's return home.

So maybe Billy was particularly good at hiding. But Eugene and his family were particularly good at seeking.

"Time to expand our search," he declared solemnly to Mary and Pedro. "Hand me the laptop." Mary did, now pulling out her own phone. Eugene cracked his fingers over the keys. Could he pull off hacking into the security cameras of nearby subway stations? He sank down onto the couch beside Mary, and pulled his headphones over his ears, ready to get in the zone. Yes, he decided. Yes, he could.

...

Any and all irritation Freddy had harbored towards Billy vanished as he stood inside the mall, screaming, panicked people rushing around him in waves. He made his way carefully to the side, scanning the fleeing crowd for a tell-tale flash of red, whether it be Billy's customary hoodie, or the hero's flamboyant costume.

The air was still smoky, electrified in the aftermath of the lightning bolt, shattered glass dusting the floor. The scorch mark in the center of the hall plainly showed where Billy had been. But where was he now?

"Billy!" Freddy called, straining to be heard over the crowd. "Billy! Where are you?!" Unfamiliar faces pressed past him in a blur of fearful urgency. The tension in the air seemed to seep into his bones, settling in deep, alongside the painful realization that things were serious now - more serious than either of them, in their textbook-exploding, superpower-testing, YouTube-uploading giddiness, had ever intended. This wasn't a mugger Billy could toss around like a rag doll, nor even a bus that he could catch with his bare hands. This was a supervillain - a real, live supervillain - with clear, cold, murderous intention.

"Billy!" Freddy shouted with renewed vigor. Was he being loud enough? He could hardly hear his own voice over the thrumming of his frantic heartbeat. Somebody wanted his brother dead. "Billy, where are you?! Billy!" No response. No reassurance. No relief.

But still Freddy continued to scan the crowd, already planning to try calling Billy on the phone, or, if that failed, to head home and see if he had made it there. Freddy gripped his crutch tighter; it was warm and slick beneath his sweaty palm. He willed himself to be calm, and yet could not shake Billy's last distressed plea from his mind. Freddy, I need your help!

Freddy swallowed hard, still frightened, but suddenly entirely sure that he was going to provide that help. He just needed to find him first. Don't worry, Billy, he thought. I'm looking.

...

Rosa glanced out the window for what was probably the hundredth time within the hour, hoping against hope. And for the hundredth time she was disappointed. She leaned over the kitchen sink, sighing into its polished silvery depths.

"Hey." Victor stepped closer until he was standing directly behind her, his arms encircling her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and she leaned back into him, feeling his warmth. "How you holding up?" His voice was soft, gentle. Barely above a whisper.

"Holding," she murmured back, curving her lips into a small smile. Her vision blurred, and she blinked back her tears with a sniffle. Victor said nothing. They stood there together for a small eternity. The kitchen clock tallied the seconds that passed.

"After the first time..." Rosa trailed off, taking a minute to compose herself. "After the first time, I thought he would stay. You know, because he came back on his own. They said he had never done that before. It was a first. I thought it meant - or at least, I hoped it meant - that things were different now."

"I know, hon," Victor sympathized. "But I guess he hasn't made up his mind yet."

"Whether this is home?"

Victor nodded, then sighed. As much as he was supporting her, he was struggling, too. She could always tell. She turned to face him, reaching her arms up to loop around his neck. She ran a hand through his hair.

"I just wish he hadn't dragged Freddy into it," Victor said, in response to her wordless coaxing. "He's a good kid. I don't understand how Billy got him to skip school."

"We don't know the full story yet," Rosa cautioned him. "Please don't be too hard on Billy. And besides, you're right. Freddy is a good kid. Strong, too. Maybe strong enough to be a good influence on Billy, hmm?" she suggested.

"Instead of the other way around?" Victor asked wryly.

"Mi amor, you know he must be going through a tough time right now. I have faith that he'll straighten out once he settles in." But her smile faltered, slid away. "If he settles in."

"If he settles in," Victor agreed solemnly, pulling her close once more. "Twenty-three times," he mused softly. "Why so much running? What is he looking for?"

"I don't know. But I do know that while he's out there looking, we'll be right here, looking for him. Like you said. We'll be the first ones to take him back, every time."

"That's right. So chin up, okay, honey?" He placed a finger beneath her chin, and lifted it until they met eyes. "And who knows? Maybe he'll find what he's looking for right here."

"Maybe. He did come back on his own, after all."

Victor's eyes left hers, and wandered back to the kitchen window. "And he's coming back again."

"You really think so?"

"No," he said breathlessly, "I know it. Look."

Heart jumping into her throat, Rosa turned to look out the window for the hundred-and-first time. But this time, she wasn't met with disappointment. She was met with Billy. He was limping steadily across the street, pale, defeated, features taut with apparent pain, and- Oh Dios mío! Was that blood?

But he was here. And that was as good a place to start as any.

...

The five of them stood huddled around the door, peering curiously into the gloomy cavern where Billy and the supervillain had disappeared. They stood there staring for several moments, until Darla predictably broke the silence.

"Well?" she prompted. "Are we gonna go after them? That mean old man can't just take Billy like that!" She wiped the tears from her eyes quickly, frustrated, and then began pulling at Mary's sleeve.

"Of course we're gonna help him, Darla. But it's dangerous. Maybe you should-"

"No, don't tell me stay here!" Darla interjected vehemently. "I want to help!"

"We'll all go," Freddy said determinedly. "Billy needs us - all of us."

"Yes!" Eugene cheered. He ran to the nearest table and began picking up textbooks, weighing them in his hands. "We need weapons," he told them eagerly.

Pedro shrugged and crossed to the nearest nightstand, calmly unplugging a large, heavy lamp.

Mary turned and began sorting through everything within grasp - toys, school supplies, Christmas decorations. "Oh, how come we don't have any weapons!" she despaired.

"I think there's lots of good reasons for that," Darla replied, seriously evaluating the sharpened point of a pencil. "For one, we-" But she stopped abruptly as she looked up and caught sight of Freddy's expression. He was grinning - a wide, infectious, yet inexplicable grin that had his nose crinkling in delight, and his eyes dancing with excitement.

"What is it, Freddy?"

The others turned to see him grinning still, practically bouncing in eager anticipation.

"I have a weapon."

And in another minute they were standing in the threshold of the door, armed with makeshift weapons and Freddy's Batarang, glinting maliciously in the cold firefight from across the room.

"Ready?" Mary asked.

"Ready!" Eugene shouted.

Darla grinned triumphantly. "Let's go get our brother back."

...

Billy sighed, his breath misting up in the cold air, briefly visible in the glow from the nearest street lamp. He adjusted his position, bringing his knees up to rest his chin on them. With one hand, he absently poked at the shingles of the roof beneath him. He liked it up here, he thought. Alone in the stillness of the night, just the street lamps, the moonlight, and the stars around him. It was the perfect place to clear his head. But still, some nights were harder than others.

I saw you, after. So... it wasn't your fault. He closed his eyes, tried not to see the bright red of his mom's shirt, the same color as the coat she had worn on the day he was lost. Or, more accurately, the day he was left. He opened his eyes and looked to the city lights on the horizon, and tried not to see her damaged apartment door, her frazzled hair, the bags under her eyes, the guilt written across her features. But you're good, right? I mean, you look real good.

"Hey."

The soft voice behind him made him jump. He turned to see Mary balanced precariously on the slope of the roof, carefully picking her way down to him.

"Hey yourself," he replied, surprised to find himself genuinely glad for the company.

"Tough night?" Mary asked gently, settling down next to him.

He shrugged noncommittally. She didn't pry.

"It's kind of cold up here, actually," she commented instead, pulling her robe closer around her.

Billy smiled, and grabbed the blanket he had set on the roof beside him. He handed it to her. She blinked. Noted his jacket and his apparent level of comfort with the temperature. She squinted at him suspiciously.

"Did you-?"

"I figured someone would find me," he shrugged, by way of explanation. He chanced a glance at her. She was smiling.

"Hmm, you're learning," she commented approvingly. "Figured out you can't run from us?"

Billy laughed lightly, then laid back against the roof. "Figured out I don't want to."