The PowWow

We were halfway back to the medical examiner’s office before I said anything.

The road stretched ahead of us, headlights cutting through the late afternoon haze. Traffic was lighter now. Quiet.

Too quiet.

I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, then stopped when I realized I was doing it.

“Hey,” I said.

Jacob didn’t look at me. “Mm.”

That was Jacob for I’m listening.

I glanced over at him.

Still leaned back. Still calm.

Still… something else.

“You said it was control,” I said. “Back there. Not just strength.”

“Yes.”

I nodded slowly.

“And that bothered you.”

A pause.

Then:

“It should bother you.”

Fair.

I exhaled. “Yeah, well, it does. But that’s not what I’m asking.”

He didn’t respond.

So I pushed.

“You’re good at that,” I said. “Control.”

Nothing.

I smirked slightly. “I mean, I’ve seen you get hit with things that would send most people through a wall—or into one—and you just… stand there. Take it. Decide what to do next.”

Still nothing.

I sighed. “You’re telling me none of this is getting to you?”

That got a response.

A small shift.

Not physical.

Something deeper.

“I didn’t say that.”

I glanced over again.

“Then what are you saying?”

He finally looked at me.

Not long.

Just enough.

“I’m fine.”

Simple.

Flat.

Final.

I let that sit for a second.

Then I nodded.

Yeah.

That tracked.

That was Jacob.

He wasn’t unaffected.

He just… chose where it went.

I leaned back in my seat.

“Justice for the dead?” I asked.

His gaze moved back to the road ahead.

“Yes.”

That was it.

That was all he needed.

And honestly?

It was enough.

We pulled into the medical examiner’s lot a few minutes later.

I killed the engine and stepped out, stretching slightly.

Then I looked down.

Then over.

Then back down again.

And I couldn’t help it.

“You know,” I said, “most people wear shoes when they visit government buildings.”

Jacob shut the door beside me.

“I’m not most people.”

“No,” I said, nodding. “You are very much not.”

I gestured toward his feet.

Bare. As always.

Not even a flinch walking across pavement, gravel, broken glass earlier…

Yeah.

Still weird.

Still impressive.

Still a little unsettling.

“Just saying,” I added, “there are entire departments dedicated to preventing exactly what you’re doing right now.”

Jacob started toward the building.

“I am not concerned with departments.”

I smiled.

“Of course you’re not.”

And I meant it.

There was a reason he did it.

Not rebellion.

Not image.

Something older than that.

Something… deliberate.

I didn’t press.

I never did.

We reached the door.

I went to grab the handle—

—and stopped.

Because Jacob stepped in front of me.

Knocked.

Three solid, measured raps.

I blinked.

Then slowly leaned back.

Well.

Look at that.

A grin crept across my face.

Oh, you noticed.

The door opened.

Dr. Naomi Ruth stood there again, eyes moving immediately—

to Jacob.

Of course they did.

Then to me.

“Back already?” she asked.

Her tone was neutral. Professional.

But there was something underneath it.

Curiosity.

Maybe something else.

“Miss us?” I said.

Her expression didn’t change.

“No.”

Fair enough.

She stepped aside. “What did you forget?”

I stepped in, Jacob behind me—again turning slightly to fit through the doorway.

“I wouldn’t call it forgetting,” I said. “More like… refining.”

She closed the door behind us.

“That usually means you missed something.”

I smiled. “That hurts a little.”

“It’s not meant to,” she said. “It’s accurate.”

Yeah.

I liked her.

We moved back into the room.

The bodies were still there.

Still covered.

Still waiting.

Naomi crossed to the computer and tapped the screen with a gloved finger.

“You look here,” she said.

I followed her gesture.

Bloody footprints.

Clear.

Defined.

Unmistakable.

Then—

she pointed down.

At Jacob’s feet.

“And,” she said, “that seems like the obvious place to start.”

I blinked.

Then looked at Jacob.

Then back at her.

Then back at Jacob.

“…I mean,” I said slowly, “you’re not wrong, but also—”

Jacob stepped forward.

“Take a sample.”

That cut right through it.

Naomi tilted her head slightly, studying him.

Then nodded once.

“Alright.”

She moved to a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a compact crime scene kit.

Efficient.

Prepared.

Like she’d been waiting for something like this.

She set it on the table and motioned.

“Here.”

Jacob stepped up without hesitation.

Of course he did.

She crouched slightly in front of him, opening the kit and pulling out an ink pad and collection cards.

“Foot,” she said.

Jacob lifted it.

Just… lifted it.

Like this was a completely normal interaction.

I leaned against the counter, folding my arms. “Careful, he could be ticklish.”

If Superman looked at me the way Jacob did, I’d have been vaporized where I stood.

I shut my mouth, swallowed my grin, and went back to watching.

Because there was something about the way she was doing this.

Careful.

Precise.

But also…

Slow.

She took his foot in her hand.

Turned it slightly.

Adjusted the angle.

Pressed it gently into the ink.

Then onto the card.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

“Hold still,” she said, though he already was. Jacob was basically immovable anyway, which definitely piqued my curiosity.

She shifted her grip, fingers sliding along the arch—

then higher.

Up to his ankle.

Then his calf.

Guiding.

Positioning.

Taking another print.

I raised an eyebrow.

Yeah.

That was definitely more contact than strictly necessary.

I watched her hand press lightly against his calf.

Testing.

Not the print.

Him.

She’s checking if it’s real.

I bit back a grin.

Of course she was.

Jacob didn’t react.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t even seem to notice.

Or maybe he did.

And just didn’t care.

Which, honestly, tracked.

Naomi finished the last print and pulled back slightly, studying the card.

Professional again.

Focused.

But there was a flicker there.

Something she wasn’t saying.

I pushed off the counter.

“So,” I said, “we thinking my brother here has a secret life we need to talk about?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine.

Then back to the print.

“…no,” she said.

But it wasn’t immediate.

And it wasn’t certain.

Interesting.

She stood, moved back to the computer, and enlarged the photo.

“No match,” Naomi said.

I could’ve sworn I heard a small sigh from her, even though she had her back to us.

Relief.

Quiet.

Almost hidden.

I looked at Jacob.

Then back at her as she turned around.

Yeah.

My brother would never know what hit him.