It is the next day in the afternoon and Toews and Patrick are ambling out of the United Center after a team practice.

“Hey, dude, wanna jet to the food hut and grab some burritos and sweet nectar?” Patrick asks Toews as they were nearing their car in the parking lot.

“Yeah! I’m starving!” Toews halts in front of the trunk of the car; he places down his hockey bag and opens up the trunk. “Wanna go to the Mexican place nearby?”

Patrick throws his hockey bag into the car. “Defs, man.” He then rounds the car, over to the passenger’s side.

Toews places his bag into the trunk, closes the trunk, and walks on over to the driver’s side. He gets in and drives out of the parking lot with Patrick.

---

About a few minutes later, the two friends arrive at a Mexican restaurant by the main street.
They enter in the parking lot next to the restaurant and park the car facing the side of the building.

Patrick gets off and takes in a whiff of the warm aroma of Mexican food. “Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, man!”

Toews gets off and closes the door. “We hadn’t even entered yet, Kaner!”

“Still smells epic, dude.” Patrick closes the door and round the car to catch up to Toews, who is closer to the restaurant than him.

“Whatcha wanna do after this, Tazer man?” Patrick asks when he finally catches up to him.

Toews shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe--”

“Oh. Em. Gee,” a teenage girl’s voice interrupts Toews’s speaking. “Are you Kaner?”

Patrick and Toews stop in their walking and stare straight ahead at who is talking.

It is a petite, teenaged girl with blond hair that is down and huge, blue eyes; she is wearing a Blackhawks jersey and a Blackhawks beanie. And she has the most adrenalized look on her face.

Patrick and Toews just gawk at her.

“Uhhh…” Patrick starts off flatly. “Yeah, man…”

“OMG, OMG, OMG!!!” The girl jumps up and down excitedly, her hands flailing everywhere. It is like as if she is trying to swat a fly away from her. “I LOVE you! I’m like your BIGGEST fan! I don’t deserve seeing you like this! I think I’m about to cry!” She fans her face, looking like she is having a hard time gaining control of her emotions.

“Well, nice meeting you, too…” Toews dubiously takes Patrick’s hand and leads him around the fangirl.

“Wait, wait.” The fangirl straightens up and quickly places her hand on Patrick’s hand; the two halt in their sidling. She gazes up into his eyes. “I really wanna remember this moment. Can you sign my car for me?”

Patrick shoots her an odd look. “Your car, du-duette?”

“Yeah!” Her eyes light up with a growing grin. “My car!”

Patrick perks up and scans around the parking lot. “Where’s your car, man?” He looks back down at her.

“Oh, it’s over there by the street.” She points toward the street’s direction over her shoulder with her free hand. “It won’t take that long, I promise. Can you?” She gives him a sweet, innocent look.

Patrick eyes Toews. Toews is giving him a grimacing look; it shows that he knows that the girl is up to no good.

“You won’t turn down a fan’s request, right?” She dips her head down and looks up at him with huge eyes and her bottom lip sticking out.

Patrick turns to Toews. “It’d be quick, man. Let me just do this.”

“Alright…” Toews lets go of Patrick and steps away.

The fangirl squeals excitedly and skips off toward the street with Patrick.

Toews presses his back against the wall of the restaurant with his arms crossed. He feels his power rushing all over his body, notifying him of something ominous. Just...what, though?

Heavily breathing, the fangirl shuffles over to a red Volkswagen buggy that is parked next to the sidewalk, nearby the restaurant. “This is my car…!” She turns around and extends her hands toward it in a showy-fashion.

Patrick stops a few feet away from it and stares at it. “And how do I sign it, dudette?”

“Oh, sign the seat belt!” She giddily opens the back door of the car and steps aside to let him in.

“I go inside?” He tilts his head with his face showing suspicion.

“Well, how else are you going to be able to sign the seat belt?”

Patrick nods his head. “Right, man…”

He climbs into the back and sits on the tan, leathered seats. He reaches for the seat belt and pulls it in front of him. “Where’s the pen, dudette?” He gazes up at her.

“Oh, I’ll be right back with it!” The fangirl happily skips away from sight.

In silence, Patrick gazes around the interior of the car with skepticism. He spots the driver's side, where the key is already in the ignition, but it has not been turned yet to turn on the car.
“Hm.” He then turns away to look at the window.

Suddenly, the loud roaring of the engine from the car can be heard as the car shakes to life.

“What--?” Patrick snaps his eyes at the driver’s area.

The key has been turned fully and the dashboard is lit up.

The door that has been left open next to him automatically closes and locks itself.

“What the--?” He reaches for the door, but is stopped short when the seat belt wraps itself around him and clicks itself into place.

“No, man, no!” Patrick attempts to undo the seat belt, but the button on the side does not press down fully.

Then the worse happens: The car lurches backwards and speeds away forward down the empty road with Patrick locked inside it.

From the corner of the street, not too far from where the buggy was first at, the fangirl watches with a sly look as the car bounces out of sight.

“Bullseye,” she says in Alex’s accented voice.

Her features and clothes then melt into Alex’s features and clothes. Alex swaggers over to the spot where the car was and peers off into the horizon, making sure that the car was long gone.

“Good, dude,” he says in Patrick’s voice. His physiognomy then shifts into Patrick’s physiognomy; his clothes mold into the same exact clothes Patrick is wearing.

He then swiftly turns around and saunters back over to Toews.

Toews jumps at Patrick’s appearance, then relief washes over him “Oh, good you’re still here!” He lets out a huff. “I was starting to worry about you!”

“No worries, Tazer man.” Patrick wraps his arm around your shoulder and begins leading him toward the restaurant. “Just signed that fan dudette’s seat belt and said “latronic” to her, dude.”

“Okay, good! I thought she was gonna kidnap you or something, knowing how crazy they can be nowadays…” Toews still has a worried look on his face.

Suddenly, Toews’s ringtone goes off. “Oh, wait.” He stops walking, fishes for his phone in his pocket, and pulls it out; the phone stops ringing. He takes a good look at its screen. “Oh, shoot!” He peeks up from his phone at Patrick. “I’m sorry, Kaner, I can’t eat with you-- I have power training with John. Sorry…” He grimaces at him as he types on his phone.

“No probs, man. I’ll eat alone.” Patrick slowly continues shuffling toward the restaurant.

“Are you sure?” Toews calls out from behind him, looking at him.

Patrick casts his eye towards his direction. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just pick me up. Latronic, dude.”

Toews stares at his friend as he disappears around the corner of the restaurant. He slips his phone into his pocket. “Good, he took it well.” He then turns around and rushes back toward his car.

---

Toews rushes into John’s house, out of breath.

“John! I’m sorry! I’m late!” Toews huffs out as he stumbles into the empty living room. He straightens up from leaning over his lap. “John?”

He scans the room with concern. He sees that everything is the way it usually is: old, antique furniture, newspaper scattered everywhere on the coffee table and sofa, empty almonade bottles standing up on the coffee table.

“Oh, John! Tavares! Where are you…?” Toews stops in his shouting. “He must be in his lab,” he concludes lowly.

He begins to make a right to go into the hallway when instantaneously, he feels something wrap around his ankles tightly, bringing him to the floor.

Toews crashes onto the wooden flooring on his stomach. “OOF!” He winces at the pain, holding his position. “Ow…” He slowly pushes his upper body up, sitting on the floor, with his legs stretched in front of him. He spots a navy blue scarf wrapped around his ankles.

“How the heck did this get here--?” Toews begins pawing at the scarf to try to take it off, but it is like as if it is superglued on there. “What the heck? What can’t I take it off...?”

He then senses someone standing in front of him. He slowly raises his eyes up at whoever else is in the room.

It is Patrick, looming down at him with a smirk and crossed arms.

“Kaner!” Toews gasps in desperation. “What are you doing here?”

“That is not my name,” Patrick replies in a Belarusian accent.

His features and clothes are altered to reveal who is really talking to Toews.

It is Alex, standing proud and tall with crossed arms, looking down at him.

Toews stares at him with wide eyes and a frown. “Alex Galchenyuk?”

“Yes,” Alex starts off menacingly. “That is my name, Jonathan Toews.”

“Wh-wh-what are you doing here?” Toews has a baffled look on his face, having no idea why Alex would be at John’s house. “And what happened to Patrick? He was just--”

He steps closer to him. “It is me here, no Kane.”

“But how--”

“You don’t need to worry about how I did what I did…” He lowers himself down to a squatting position. “You just need to know that you won’t see your friends ever again.” He casts his eyes to the left. “Nikita, put it on.”

The end of the scarf zips up into the air next to Toews and wraps around his right wrist. It then slips away back into its place.

Toews stares at his wrist, seeing that a thick, silver cuff is now on his wrist. He snaps his eyes up at him with an angering look. “What is this?”

“Power negating bracelet. When you have it on, your powers are not on. Courtesy of Mr. John Tavares.” Alex slowly stands up.

“Wha--?”

“Let’s get out of here, Nikita.” Alex begins marching through John’s kitchen and out of the house.

“Wait! Wait!” Toews feels the scarf pulling itself behind Alex, dragging Toews on his back toward the exit of the house. “What are you guys doing? Where are you taking me to? What did you guys do with John? Where is John?!”

The scarf then slams the door closed behind him, leaving the house empty.

Notes