[b][i]New York City, New York[/i][/b]
[b][i]April, 1938...[/i][/b]
The 18th police precinct's doors flew open and a handful of rough and roughened men rolled to the front desk, enclosed within long, elastic arms.

The front desk receptionist sighed as she pressed the ringer for the patrolmen then looked up at the door. "You know, there are more convenient ways to turn in crooks, Mr. Elastic Man."

Elastic Man himself just smugly smirked from the front door, white scarf waving dramatically like there was any sort of breeze on a day like today. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, I'm sure you and the boys will have plenty of fun with members of the Maroni Gang."

She glanced over the men again. "Maroni men, huh. The ones who were starting that protection racket down Washington St.?"

"The very ones. I didn't get Maroni himself yet, but I will."

"That would certainly be one less pain in the neck." The first of the officers arrived and started handcuffing the men, allowing Elastic Man to slowly untangle his arms from the pile. "Good work, once again. Think you could spare a couple minutes to help with the processing?"

"Not today, Officer Perkins. I got another engagement to head to. See you next time!" He then reached up to the roof and slung himself away.

Perkins just shook his head. "Such a strange fellow." Then returned to his duties.

Elsewhere, Elastic Man winced as he landed on a high enough roof. "Note to self-Dragging 6 men over ten city blocks does tire the arms." He pulled the arms back in, wincing more as the aches asserted themselves harder. He didn't have time to give them much rest though. It was about time for his shift at the 16th precinct. 

With a leap, he landed on the building kitty-corner. Then he looked down the more isolated alleyway and felt out telepathically. No one was down there, excellent. He stretched himself out and floated down like a kite before landing and rolling himself into human form. Still no one was down there. And with that, his form shifted. His head went from black-haired and round to tow-haired and square-jawed, his height grew a foot, musculature grew on his arms, his eyes shifted from brown to blue, and his bright red suit and black boots shifted into the muted tones of a trench coat, slacks, white collared shirt, brown shoes, and black tie. Only the white scarf remained untouched.

After his form settled, his hands started tested out every piece, making sure nothing was out of place and his tie was straight. Once that was accomplished, he started booking it. He hadn't been late so far, and he didn't intend to be late today!

And indeed he wasn't. He arrived within the precinct and punched in his timecard right as the clock struck the hour.

Sergeant Hopkins sighed. "Barely on time again, Detective Jameson." 

"My apologies again, sir." He bowed his head for the reprimed. "Time just keeps slipping away from me."

"Then wear a watch! You know full well that five minutes before is on time and on time-"

"Is late, I know. Especially when every moment can count. I will look into getting a watch." Then he headed for his desk and started looking into the paperwork of his ongoing cases and checking to see if a new one had been placed within.

"See that you do, James." Then he sat at his own desk and turned on the radio, listening to some music station or other. James was almost certain it was Glen Miller, but he couldn't be certain. Besides, there were rumors of a new gang starting up that were worth far more of his time. The leader was known to wear a skull mask, which hampered identification and meant that any prior criminal history would be much harder to track down. But he had to have funds or be getting funding from somewhere. So if he could figure that out, he'd have a lead. If he could figure out what the gang's purpose was as well, that would also help things along but they were still new enough that it was hard to say without infiltrating a meeting. Hmm...Now there was an idea...

The music on the radio suddenly cut off. And the president's voice itself boomed forth. [i]"My friends."[/i]

Everyone in the bullpen quickly sat up and listened, their chairs striking their desks. James was no exception. What did President Roosevelt want?

[i]"We are in the midst of unprecedented times. Forces are rising beyond what ordinary man can oppose...."[/i] Several dangers and events were laid out, almost too openly revealed from a head of a national power. [i]I therefore call upon the superhumans in our midst to answer the call and aid our nation in it's time of need."[/i]

Several groans erupted from the men. 

"Why only the superhumans?! Plenty of us 'ordinary' folk could beat the tar out of those supers any day of the week!"

"Hey, supers certainly have their place. Have you seen the latest bulletin on what Elastic Man's done?"

"And what's Elastic Man done that's really helped anybody? He's just acting to get noticed!"

James meanwhile stayed silent, frozen as he focused on the words. He, he couldn't- Helping fight crime was one thing. It aided ordinary citizens, served the nation, and allowed him to keep his anonymity in one fell swoop. If he registered...He owed America a lot, but a government was still a government! And government only wanted one thing: control.

A man lit his cigarette, and James suddenly fell back with a large crash.

Everyone turned towards him. "You okay there, Jameson?"

"Yes!" He leapt to his feet and righted the chair, careful to not look at the still lit lighter. "I just need some fresh air. Be back in a bit." Then he rushed off.

"I always forget that James has a thing against smoking..." He heard one of the men state before he'd closed the door and gotten outside to the small porch area.

The sun, the fresher air, and the sounds of New York traffic already was doing wonders. He allowed himself a few more deep breathes before settling back down. He wasn't back there. This wasn't over two Earth years ago. He was here and now, with the sun on his skin and humanity spread out before him. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

But if America didn't get the help they needed...Would this still exist?

He sat back with a sigh. "Why is nothing ever easy?" The moons orbited as they would orbit though, there was nothing he could do to change what lay ahead. He did owe this nation after all. And perhaps, if he registered voluntarily, maybe he could actually become a citizen?

He couldn't reveal that much info though. Either they'd kick him out, arrest him for treason and force him on the run, or...His hands instinctually rubbed around his wrists. Even in this human guise, he could almost swear he could feel the lingering scar tissue. No, revealing himself fully was too risky.

But perhaps he could just volunteer and not reveal anything? As long as he was willing to take part in any call, surely they wouldn't need to know everything, right? If they tried, well, he could always 'persuade' them otherwise. His skin roiled at the thought, but it was the choice between that and being exposed, there was no choice at all.

He would not risk another government getting his hands on him, even if it was to protect this land.

[hr]

[b][i]Queensport, Northeastern Tennessee[/i][/b]
[b][i]June...[/i][/b]

Perhaps he ought to have allowed them to at least know his home city. It wasn't like New York City was a small town by any means. 

Elastic Man swung to the top of the warehouse and let himself take a breath. He'd needed to use some of his vacation time to join in this, defense of an ammunition plant. Jungle Boy and Lady Lynx inside due to their snipping capabilities. And him on the outside with this 'Torch of Liberty' operative due to his greater flexibility. So far though, he didn't see or hear any-

"Greif jetzt an, Albrecht!" was suddenly yelled on his right.

Elastic Man looked over to see a seven-foot tall wolfman holding a man who had to be Torch. Within the trees, he could almost be sure he saw firearms. Reaching out though showed several more minds amidst the trees. Could be civilians, but it was best to not take chances. Jumping down without a plan then was definitely not a good idea. But did he really need to jump down?

He laid flat on the roof, then stretched out an arm, aiming to wrap it around the wolfman's eyes and give Torch a better chance to escape his grasp.