Angelo and Illyana; Angelo, Illyana and Scott

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Angelo watches there is of the news coverage, then goes to find himself a teleporter. Some persuasion and promises of future debt later, she agrees to take him to San Diego.


The coverage had just... cut out. Angelo sat where he was for a long few moments, staring blankly at the screen and trying to process what he'd just watched. The beach, and the firebird, massive and towering, far bigger than it should have been, and fiery light flickering around the edges. The wave hitting. And then the bird turning white, terrifyingly, because it was not supposed to do that, and he was suddenly horribly afraid that he'd just witnessed Nathan going supernova on the daily news.

Abruptly, he jerked himself out of the shock, getting up to run for the stairs. Clarice wasn't in her room when he got there, and he didn't have time to hunt the mansion for her, so that only left...

"ILLYANA!"

Illyana emerged from her room, shoving her hair back into a messy ponytail and looking extremely annoyed. "You shrieked?" she said bad-temperedly.

He was very much on edge, almost twitchy as he looked at her. "I need a favour", he said without preamble. "A lift to San Diego." Ordinarily, they both knew, nothing would make him ask her of all people for help... but this was hardly ordinary circumstances, and pride had no place.

"Do you? Gosh, that's interesting. You know, about a hundred years ago, now, they invented this thing called an aeroplane. And I'm sure whatever sad idiot you're calling 'sir' these days will be more than happy to put you right on one." Talking to Angelo brought out the worst in her; she lifted her eyebrows, driving the point home with a sharp, "So why don't you go grovel elsewhere."

"Trust me, if there was time for that, I'd be on my way to the airport right now. But I think Nathan's in trouble, I need to be out there now and I can't find Clarice." He hesitated, then swallowed his pride even further. "Look, Illyana, I'm asking as a favour, an' I'll owe you if you just do this. Please."

"He's always in trouble somewhere," Illyana retorted, inwardly beginning to enjoy this a little. "What are you going to do, stretch at him and look really worried? Besides, if there's trouble, why should I be so inclined to jump right into the middle of it?" The look on his face was worth about nine-hundred snotty comments about her inherent evilness. No, nine thousand snotty comments.

"I don't know what I'm goin' to do. I'll see about that when I get there - an' you can just drop me off an' come straight back here, if that's what you want to do. Illyana, there might not be much time. Please."

"Time for what?" She exhaled irritably. "Okay, three things. First, is there gunfire? I am not 'porting anyone, myself very much included, into gunfire. Second, is there a chance you're going to die? Because the owing me part requires you to be alive. And third - " She smiled her best smile. "Say pretty pretty please."

"No, there's no gunfire. It's a natural disaster they're dealin' with out there, not a war." He hoped. "An' no, I'm not goin' to die. The actual danger should be over by the time we get there, especially at this rate." Hearing the last, he eyed her, but then sighed, resigned. This was too important, he had to indulge her. "Pretty pretty please", he said flatly.

Her best smile turned into her smug smile. "Very good," she said approvingly. "Now, the rules are: No talking in Limbo, no references to demons, no calling me evil for the –duration-, and I am not going to suddenly turn into someone who cares, so no whining. Okay? Good. Now hold on."

He nodded acceptance of her terms, reaching to take her arm. "Define the duration."

"I meant that figuratively - NO touching," she said pointedly, stepping deftly out of his reach and shooting him an annoyed glance. One of her rolled-up sweatpant legs fell down. "It is so very not necessary. And the duration will mean whatever the hell I want it to mean – if you've got objections, I hear American Airlines are having a seat sale."

"Okay, fine, no touchin'. An' no objections. Can we go now?"

God, he annoyed the hell out of her. It would have suited her just fine to leave him there after that – but if she did, she would never, ever hear the end of it. "Fine.". A light circle opened beneath them, and they dropped through it, down into the elaborate abandoned courtyard in the palace in Limbo. "Where did you say he was? San Francisco?"

"San Diego. On the beach. You won't be able to miss it, it's the one that just got hit by a tidal wave."

They get there and are met by Scott, who isn't too happy to find them there but doesn't immediately order them home. Any help they can get, after all...



The scene when Angelo and Illyana stepped onto the beach had him blinking and staring in horror for several seconds, before he recovered and started looking around for Nathan, frantically.

Please let him still be here. Please let him be okay.

Well, this was – destructive. Illyana crossed her arms, unwilling to join Angelo in his frenetic search effort. If someone was dead – in this wreckage, make that "a lot of people" - she had no intention of getting all teary-eyed. On the other hand, since she had already gone soft and brought the idiot to play in the sand, neither was she going to skip out – if only to prove that she could commit when she damn well pleased. Her bare feet sank into the sand, and she had to move toward him a little bit, to avoid getting embarrassingly stuck, hoping that it wasn't going to be mistaken for "helping".

He didn't turn to look at her, too busy searching the beach, when he asked, "Can you see him anywhere?"

"Um, no," Illyana said. "And if he got stuck in this, then I am not entirely sure my stomach is up to it anyway." Which was a lie, but her mood was going nowhere but down. Not that she so much liked Mr. Dayspring, but he had been less annoying than some of her cohabitants, and it was hitting her exactly how much she didn't want to be here.

He swallowed, staring again at the horrific scene. "You can go back now, if you want to. You never wanted to come out here - an' I won't forget I owe you."

"Angelo! Illyana!" The voice wasn't Nathan's, but Scott's. He appeared out of the crowd of confused people, victims and emergency personnel alike, and headed towards them at a surprising speed, given his visible fatigue. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

"'Helping'," Illyana snapped back, putting it in air quotes to get her point across. "Well, no. Actually, I'm here because Mr. Hero decided he would make a really great rescue worker, except for the being across the country part. And he is now in my debt, which is why I intend to make sure he's alive to pay up. But -he- thinks -he's- helping."

"I saw the news, before it cut out, an' I didn't like what I was watchin'", Angelo said doggedly, giving no ground. "An' I'd rather be here than stuck back in the mansion to wait. Illyana was transport, it's up to her now if she stays or not."

Scott stared at them for a moment longer, then nodded brusquely.

"They'll be setting up triage tents back off the beach," he said, sounding more tired than harsh now. "You've had RedX training, Angelo - feel free to make yourself useful. Illyana, if you want to do the same, fine. If not and you're going to hang around anyway, please stay out of the way." He started to turn back in the direction he'd come, but glanced back over his shoulder at Angelo. "Nathan's farther down the beach."

Scott knew him too well, clearly. Angelo barely waited long enough to nod before he turned and started to run. When he got there, he dropped to his knees next to Nathan, who was unconscious on the sand on a stretcher with his arm in a splint... and bleeding from the nose and ears. There was a paramedic hovering, but the woman backed off and moved on to the next victim even as Angelo and Illyana approached.

"Oh, hell, Nate. What'd you do to yourself this time?"

"Got himself knocked around again," Illyana filled in from a few feet away, having followed at a distance. Without shoes, she looked more like a survivor than part of the rescue effort herself. "Is he breathing? Because if he is, then I'll leave you to whatever it is you're doing. And if he's not, I'm leaving anyway. I don't like dead people."

"Yes, he's breathin'", Angelo answered without looking up at her. "An' like I said back there... you're free to do whatever you want, like I could stop you. But... thanks."