Though not as strong in telepathy as he'd have liked to be, Josh did what he could to pick up on any ideas the others could have had in mind. None, however, came all that easily. So he had to use his own mind to process alternatives all on his own, pretty much. The only one who seemed to have anything in mind was Alex. Firdaus too, maybe, but her telepathy was even weaker. Not nonexistent - contrary to popular belief, humans' thoughts could still be heard and listened to, though they weren't capable of anything more than these passive contributions.

Normal humans, that is.

Not the ones born and bred as demigods, fathered by a guy who viewed everything and anything as an experiment.

Josh hated himself for going along with his dad's new and dreadful plan, but he also felt a certain duty to respect the wisdom of this crowd. Nothing unfair about it - everyone made their vote clear, including the man whom the plan would most affect.

If Doctor Strange were here and could confirm this was the only way, Josh would be marginally less worried. But even Strange would know there had to be another way. If he were Strange, he would search through more than just a measly fourteen million parallel universes for the solution to this.

He got behind the wheel of the black Flex his father had brought, leaving him to drive the white Escape instead. Elliot preferred the Escape anyway - it was a higher-end model with a more powerful engine and better features anyway. Whereas Josh preferred the black one, especially for night driving when the car's fully-tinted wraparound glass top made it all but invisible when the lights weren't on. So tinted, in fact, it needed these special camera displays in the glass during such night drives, otherwise it was impossible to see out of. Josh wasn't sure, but he thought his father had bought that ride from a vampire. Or from a vampire movie set, at least. Weren't they supposed to be working on a Blade remake or something? In San Francisco, of all places, or perhaps Oakland.

Just another cultural treasure to protect from Scoville and Peppermint. Or, more accurately, just Peppermint. Either way, there was too much to fight for, and not enough time to take the fight to the enemy.

So as Josh drove away from the Joey's parking lot, straining his ears for the sounds of police sirens - they were still too distant even for the first response to the call about this gunfight - he resigned himself, for the time being, to letting his dad run the day.

For the last time, he hoped.