"Geez, kid," Ian said when Emmet finished. "Maybe we should get you that dog suit."

"I don't-don't think that w-would make p-p-people b-beat me up less," Emmet replied.

Ian laughed. "Yeah, probably not. But it might hurt less."

Emmet smiled and then winced as he felt the cut on his lip stretch.

"S-so, w-what do we d-do now?" he asked.

Ian and Brock exchanged glances.

"We call the home office," Brock said.

Ian sighed. "Nothing for it, I guess, but honestly, with everything going on tonight, you'd think someone would have reached out."

"W-what's been g-going on?"

Brock scrubbed a hand through his hair and Emmet only now realized how tired he looked. Ian too.

"We've been chasing false alarms since we dropped you off," he replied. "They've been going off all over. Bridgewater, Morristown. We had to send Shane and Lloyd up to Edison to check out some readings in that direction. We were already halfway back here when we got your text."

"You already k-knew?" Emmet asked.

"That there was a gate on Berry Street? Yes," Ian said. "We didn't realize it was under your bed."

Emmet glanced under his bed. "W-w-where does it go?"

Ian shrugged. "Not sure. Nowhere we've been anyway. I'll run it through Henry if I can do it discreetly."

"Why discree-discree-" Emmet ground his teeth and tried again. "Discreetly?"

"Ah, well," Ian said, "not everybody loves us at the bar. Humans are kind of new to the game and some of the other species think we should mind our manners a bit better. You gonna make that call or what, Team Leader?"

Brock gave Ian a flat look, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, Debbie, it's Brock. We've-yes, Brock. Brock from New Jersey. Balinski."

There was a long pause and Brock mouthed that he was on hold.

After a moment she must have come back and said something because Brock suddenly gritted his teeth and said, "B-A-L-I-N-S-K-I."

Another pause, "Yes. From the New Jersey Team."

Ian rolled his eyes and said to Emmet, "This is why he's Team Lead. Get's to make all the important calls."

Brock shot him a dark look and strode from the room. Emmet could hear him begin to explain the circumstances from out in the hall.

Ian, spotting the polka dot cat next to the closet door, leaned forward and grabbed it. "What on earth is this?"

"A w-w-wooden cat," Emmet replied.

Ian turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the smooth, stained wood. "Well, it is some ugly. We've got to work on your taste."

Emmet flushed. "My m-m-mother g-g-gave it to m-me."

Ian glanced at him and replaced the cat on the floor. "Sorry, man."

Emmet shrugged. "N-no. It's ok-kay. It w-was a s-s-stupid gift. She only s-sends them c-cuz she feels g-g-guilty about b-being g-gone."

Ian gave him a half smile. "Well, we could toss it in the rift if you want."

Emmet smiled back. "Why b-b-burden another w-world? You know, this is p-p-probably why n-n-no one l-likes humans."

Ian threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh God, I'm tired," he said. "I don't even know why that's so funny."

He was wiping tears from his eyes when Brock came back in.

Brock raised a brow in question, but Ian waved him off. "Never mind, just tell us what Darling Debbie said."

Brock sat on the edge of the bed before he remembered the rift and stood again.

"Apparently, this has been happening all over the Mid Atlantic. New York, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Jersey. Mostly false alarms, but enough real rifts to be a concern. Not a single Nagra in sight either, and no signs they were ever there. Every rift is a clean rip."

Ian frowned. "How is that even possible?"

Brock rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Not a clue, but you know what this means?"

"Nope, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," Ian said.

"We need to go back to New York and talk to Frank."

Ian groaned. "Well, I hope you don't mean tonight, cuz I'm done. I need at least four hours of quality time with my bed."

"Yeah, me too," Brock said, "but I doubt we'll get it so long as these alarms keep going off."

He looked a little harder at his brother and at the circles under his eyes. "We could take shifts, though. I'll work something out with Lloyd and Shane."

"I c-can help," Emmet offered.

Brock smiled, but shook his head. "Thank you, Emmet, but I can't allow that. You're still a minor. I get enough flak allowing you and Vanessa on the team, so until you're 18, we've got to follow a few very strict rules, okay?"

Seeing Emmet's disappointment, he added, "Hey, it's the same rules Vanessa has to follow. Same rules Ian and I had to follow. It's for your own benefit."

Why, Emmet thought, did every bit of prevention adults put in place have to be 'for his own benefit?' At least he hadn't added, 'You'll thank me for it one day.'

He sighed. "Alr-right. W-what are th-they?"

Brock glanced at Ian, who shook his head. "Nope, all yours, man. I hated the rules. Besides, you're the boss."

Brock ground his teeth, "Yeah, it's all fun and games for you, isn't it?"

"No," Ian replied, "I think it sucks, and I'm glad it's you and not me in charge. That's why I won't do your job for you. Go ahead and tell him so we can get going before Shane falls into a rift somewhere."

Brock muttered something under his breath, but Emmet didn't catch what it was. It didn't sound like a compliment though.

"Five Rules," Brock said. "Rule one is that you go nowhere solo. Got it? You always need one of us with you on the other side of a rift. Rule two is your health and well-being come first. That means sleep and wearing safety gear any time we think it's important. Whether or not you like it. Rule three is you're never first off the jump. Rule four is you always listen to us even if you disagree. We've been doing this longer than you, we know what we're doing, you don't. Rule five was no crying, but Dad mostly made that one for Ian because he was a little cry baby."

"Screw you," Ian said.

"True story, though." Brock turned back to Emmet. "Can you handle that?"

"Sure," Emmet said. He never cried. Not anymore.

"Great," Brock said. "We'll head out, probably rescue Shane from something. Text me if anything else comes up."

"W-wait," Emmet said. "W-what about th-that?"

He pointed towards the bed.

"Oh, geez, I forgot. A team of Rift Doctors will be by," Brock checked his phone, "anytime now. Just stay out of their way and they'll get this closed up."

"W-what about the-the b-boy?" Emmet asked.

"We'll see what Frank knows tomorrow. Keep your phone on, someone will pick you up after school." He paused. "Just, don't get caught with it on class, okay?"

"Y-yes, sir."