â€œWait.â€  Blackhawk called, stepping towards the figure that had quite literally run into him.  â€œAre you... are you alright?â€<br/><br/>His attempt was awkward and stilted, but he didn't know what he could say to assure the girl that he meant her no ill.  It was obvious that she was more than human.  Either he helped her, or Omega Circle hunted her down and forced her into their ranks.<br/><br/>The Circle meant wellâ€”he'd had an almost friendly relationship with Ricochet before they'd tried to recruit himâ€”but lately it just seemed more and more as if they were drafting anyone with the mutant gene, trying to swell their ranks as if building a government army.  He didn't like it, and he'd told them as much when they'd turned their attention to him.  He'd rejected them quite flatly: a decision for which Ethan still resented him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>-<br/><br/>Locked inside his suit, where no-one could really witness his reaction, Morgan allowed his sightless eyes to shutter closed for a brief moment.<br/><br/>These last few months had been grueling for them all, but most of his teammates had no idea the  knife's edge he walked day and night.  His primary concern would always be his familyâ€”these outcast, mismatched men and women who had entrusted to him their safety and loyaltyâ€”but he could no longer ignore the constant pressure from the government.  They hounded his every step, insisting that he take a more aggressive approach to â€œrounding upâ€ the rogue mutants who roamed Sloatan's streets, while at the same time controlling every step his team took and every word they spoke in public.<br/><br/>He would never begin to admit it, but the pressure was taking it's toll even on him.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Any leads at all? What other information could give us a clue as to where he could possibly be?  We can't get doing this, you know. Getting out selves worked up and falling flat. It's not good for any of us.  We need a better plan than this. Morgan?"</span><br/><br/>He nodded his agreement to Ember, and again as Ghost approached and offered his painfully relevant advice.  The younger man meant well, but he couldn't know that the whole purpose of their poorly-structured public outing had been, at the insistence of General Reed, to drum up support for the team.  The General--their overseer and Morgan's indirect liason to the government--seemed to think that they needed to be more open and accessible.  Ironically, these were the same goals Morgan had been hoping to achieve when he'd publicly announced his identity to the world three years earlier.  It hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped, a fact made even more painfully apparent by the events inside the club.  Seeing Blackhawk actively trying to thwart their endeavors was just rubbing salt in the wound: particularly for Ricochet and himself.  They'd considered the young man a friend once, thought it was a sentiment he clearly hadn't retained.<br/><br/>â€œIf we haven't scared him off completely, then we'll handle our next encounter quite differently.â€  He assured his tea, hating how much he felt that they were bearing the consequences of his difficult situation. Ember was right, as usual: the falling flat part in particular seemed to be doing a number on them recently.<br/><br/>Feeling suddenly stifled, he unlocked the compression valve on  his suit and removed his helmet.  The claustrophobia disappeared, and unfortunately so did his sight.  Still, he didn't need the suit to know the exact location of each of his members; to hear their every footfall and breath.<br/><br/>â€œAs civilians.â€  He reiterated, taking a cleansing breath of cool, albeit pungent, fresh harbor air.  He could sense the growing unease, seeping out from his own frustrations with their government handlers to affect the others.  The only option was to work harder, easing their burden in any way possible.  He knew he could find a way to make this work, to grasp at falling pieces and save the crumbling house of cards. He just needed a little bit more time.<br/><br/>Distraction came in the form of their youngest member, Jeremy.  â€œThere's no need to go after him tonight.â€  He absently ruffled the boy's hair as he clung to him, taking care this the immense strength contained in his suit was restrained.  â€œWe'll pick up the trail tomorrow.â€<br/><br/>To his left, he heard Ricochet scoff.  â€œAnd we're going to find him... how, exactly?â€<br/><br/>â€œWe'll split into teams of two or three and begin a search pattern, spiraling out from this location and covering a five mile radius,â€ he cut off the predictable protests from Ethan with a stern addendum,  â€œwe'll dress as civilians and keep violent encounters to a strict minimum.â€<br/><br/>When the younger man made no response, Morgan turned his eyes towards him.<br/><br/>â€œRic, that means you.â€<br/><br/>â€œWho, me?  I'm an angel.â€  Ethan returned, grinning stupidly at Ember.  â€œSpeaking of angels.  Wanna partner up?  I know I can show you a good time.â€<br/><br/>Ignoring the constantly bickering pair, Morgan turned his senses outward to find Ghostâ€”never an easy task, and impossible when the younger man was not in physical form.  â€œLeto, Ren said that he saw the subject leaving.  Did you happen to get a more direct idea of where he was headed?â€