Fiddler's Green: The Greater Good
Jul. 18th, 2009 02:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsNathan meets Mariana Machado in New York to discuss the rescued children, and falls right into the Taygetos trap she helped facilitate.
(OOC: Many thanks to k8, Bounce and Seraph for socking!)
The Brazilian restaurant was the very definition of a hole in the wall. As such, it probably served pretty good food, Nathan reflected, checking his surroundings meticulously before he went ahead into the restaurant. He'd taken the most roundabout route imaginable to get here, in one of the cars from the mansion pool rather than his own SUV. He'd even gotten Charles to do a quick scan of the area, to make sure no one was hiding somewhere. Everything seemed to be peaceful.
He had every layer of mental shielding he was capable of producing up, and yet he still felt like he had crosshairs painted on the back of his skull. Why had she insisted that they meet here? His nerves jangling, Nathan paused just inside the door, eyes scanning the interior - noting the exit to the kitchen, the fire door, a short hallway leading to the restrooms - until his gaze fell on Mariana Machado.
"Is there some reason we couldn't do this at the school?" he asked brusquely as he joined her in the booth. She had a cup of coffee and two menus, one of which she pushed across the table to him with a flickering smile. "I do have an office."
"I know. But I met with Professor Xavier, as well as the representative from SHIELD, here in the city," the Brazilian mutant said softly. "They were both concerned about me being observed en route to the mansion. It seemed like a worthwhile precaution for this meeting as well."
Nathan just grunted, lifting the menu. He supposed she had a point, although if Taygetos had surveillance that good he'd be surprised. Also in rather deep shit. "Whatever. We're both here. My wife tells me the kids are doing well so far on the island," he said.
"They are. I need to thank her," Machado said with another halting smile, "for putting their well-being ahead of the need for information. The gentleman from SHIELD was quite disgruntled with her for telling his people that they would have to wait until the initial period of assessment was over before asking any questions."
"I know. I suspected that was going to happen as soon as she and Charles had them shipped to Muir so soon." There hadn't been any real reason to move them out of the mansion that quickly, otherwise. "You said you wanted to talk to me about them. Why me and not Moira?"
Machado's hands folded and unfolded around her coffee cup. "I understand that Muir has an excellent record with rehabilitation, but I wasn't sure if they had ever addressed a situation this specific. On the other hand, I am very familiar with Elpis's DDR program."
"...oh," Nathan said blankly. Why had that not occurred to him yet? Moira hadn't raised the possibility either. "Of course. Well, the only problem is that it's set up for, uh, conventional mutant child soldiers. If there is such a thing."
"And my children's needs are more complex."
'My' children. That was telling. "Much. They were never part of society to begin with. It'd be integration, not reintegration." Nathan frowned, then paused to order as the waitress came over. Machado ordered as well, and Nathan shook his head as the waitress retreated again. "I wonder if their take on Brazilian street food is as authentic as the menu makes it look," he said, more to buy himself a moment to think than anything else.
Machado gave him a faint smile. "I'm told it's very good. I felt like a touch of home. It's been a very long few days."
"I can imagine." Nathan took a sip from his water glass. "All right. Regarding the kids, I'd need to talk to our experts-"
"Yourself and your former comrades?" Machado asked, very softly.
Nathan froze, staring at her over the rim of the water glass for a moment before he set it back down. "I meant the people with all the fancy degrees and years of experience who designed the DDR programs for us. Exactly what do you know about me and my 'former comrades'?"
Machado took a deep breath and let it out again on something that was almost a sigh as she pushed her coffee cup aside. "The gentleman from SHIELD may have mentioned something," she murmured.
And it sounded coy, Nathan thought, frowning. Like she was avoiding the question. "SHIELD's aware of my background," he said, his voice clipped. "I didn't think they made a habit of publicizing it." In fact, they should have been making a habit of not talking about it.
Machado's eyes dropped. "Out of curiosity," she said quietly, "why do you and the others keep it secret?"
"I'm sorry," Nathan said harshly, although he kept his voice very low, "but I don't think my past as a brainwashed mutant supersoldier is conducive to being taken seriously as an activist."
Another faint smile from the woman across from him, although this one was almost tremulous. "Are you certain?" she asked. "You and your friends are a very fine example of the depths to which 'normal' humans can sink."
"And I'm years past wanting to be pitied for it." He didn't know why the conversation had suddenly taken a turn into left field like this, but he didn't like it. "Can we get back on topic?" he asked, sucking in a breath and making a mental note to ask Charles to call someone at SHIELD and yell at them. Confidentiality went both ways. "Your kids-"
"I care for them very much, you realize." Machado's voice, though quiet, was oddly urgent suddenly. "I've been the one to care for them this last year. I've seen them trying to... reach out, to make contact with the world. It's barely noticeable at times but it's there. They deserve a chance to be... guided out of their shells."
"And they're going to get it," Nathan said, leaning back in his chair, wary at the woman's sudden intensity. "But you realize this is going to be a long-term process? They need to learn so much they were never taught." Whether they would ever learn enough to function 'normally' in society was a depressing question.
"I know. And I will do anything I have to do to buy them that time." Machado's eyes were overly bright, suddenly, and Nathan could see her swallow, as if past a lump in her throat. "My friend Javier may have given his life for these children and others like them. I may never know for certain. Did Jean tell you about what she found in his notes? About this Trojan Horse of yours?"
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "I saw the notes," he said guardedly.
"Then you know. How complex an understanding of the conditioning your Ms. Kritzer had, to create something that could destroy it in a moment." Machado's eyes moved away from Nathan, scanning the restaurant. As if looking for someone. "You saw what Javier said about reverse-engineering it, too?"
"No," Nathan said slowly, "I saw him say that the worm program was a product of reverse-engineering the conditioning. Kritzer had to figure out exactly how it worked to know how to destroy it. How to exploit every gap and weak spot.
The realization hit him like a punch in the stomach as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Machado was staring at him steadily, her eyes full of unshed tears - and guilt.
"What did you do?" he hissed, half-rising.
"What I had to do," she whispered shakily. "I'm so sorry, Nathan. But it was the only way to guarantee their safety, the safety of all my people. I had to make sure there was no need to use them as leverage anymore!"
"Your friend didn't sacrifice himself so that you could hand them a way to bulletproof the fucking conditioning!" Nathan said violently, his voice much louder as he slid out of the booth. "That's what you're trying to do, don't kid yourself!" Machado reached out to grab his wrist, and he twisted out of her grip easily. "Get the hell away from me," he growled at her, "and get out of here! If you don't think they'll kill you too, you're deluding yourself!"
The restaurant door opened. Nathan looked up - and right at the young man from months ago in Puerto Rico, the one who'd blocked his powers. Even as he felt the world around him go flat and silent he reacted and rushed the much smaller man, knocking him back through the door and out onto the street.
He smashed a fist into the younger man's face with all his strength, did it again, then slammed his head into the pavement for good measure. It was enough to leave the power-nullifier at least dazed, to judge by how Nathan's telekinetic awareness started to come back in fits and starts. Distance, the cold voice at the back of his mind instructed, and Nathan was on his feet and running for the nearest alley as fast he could. Steps away, his telepathy came back, equally fitful, just in time to let him sense the next attacker incoming.
There was a roar from his left as he reached the alley and a sound like a rumble of thunder as feet stomped toward him at a dead run. There was the sound of bone meeting soft tissue a moment later as the young feral charged the man they'd been sent to subdue and capture. He was careful, using the force of his charge and his horns to launch Nathan into the air rather then crushing him against a wall.
Nathan had done the running of the bulls once in Pamplona, years and years ago when he'd been young and stupid. He'd done pretty well at it, but those had been relatively dumb animals. Not... minotaur-like mutants who'd come out of nowhere. The impact with the wall was stunning, and Nathan slid to the ground, gasping for air. Fuck... He gave into the adrenaline and lashed out telekinetically at the other mutant, whose face was shockingly young despite his towering height.
The young feral grunted as he was knocked back out into the street. Flat on his back, he glanced sideways and nodded at his companion now that they had the man in the shadows. Having given the signal, he climbed to his feet, heading back toward the older man. All he needed to do was distract him and move him into position. Hopefully it wouldn't lead to any broken bones.
A thick, beefy hand reached down and picked Nathan up by the front of the shirt, dragging him against the brick of the wall. Nathan had just enough time to catch a glimpse of a short, stocky blonde before she threw him back towards her horned partner.
Nathan should have been able to re-direct his trajectory, but his head was still spinning from the initial impact. He did at least manage to use the momentum, driving an elbow into the bull-like mutant's ribs as he fell against him.
The young feral roared again, this time in pain as Nate's elbow connected and he stumbled back a step. He'd grown so quickly when his mutation had kicked in that he still had difficulty moving gracefully. But you didn't need grace to beat the ever loving crap out of someone.
Reaching down, he placed an overly large square palmed hand around Nate's neck and picked him up easily, turned a quick circle like a discus thrower and launched him back at his partner.
The girl watched impassively as Nathan skidded to a halt at her feet, then picked him up again with no regard for their height difference. A fist slammed into his face, then into his gut before she dropped him again. Before he could catch his breath, a quick kick was delivered to his ribs, and then the blonde bent over him again.
The telekinetic sledgehammer slammed into her like a full-body check in a hockey game, if the force of said check had been magnified by a factor of five or so. Brick or not, she went down hard, and Nathan rolled to his feet, staggering. He tried to produce a follow-up shockwave, to push them both away, but it died stillborn as his powers went dead again.
Which left him with precisely one option, and he took it. He ran, heading down the street this time. It was a hell of a risk, drawing them anywhere near innocent bystanders. But he wasn't ready to die, and if he tried to take them on hand-to-hand without his powers, the chances that he wasn't getting out of this were pretty good. Nathan managed to get his hand into his pocket, intending to push the panic button ,on his phone.
A smaller redheaded boy dropped from a rooftop above him, hands slamming into Nathan's shoulders. Bouncing off him, the boy somersaulted in mid air, landing in front of Nathan and knocking the man's phone out of his grip.
I hate acrobats. Super-agility was one of those things one dealt with much easier with one's fucking telekinesis. Nathan tried to duck under the boy's next attack, to go for the phone, but the glancing kick to his shoulder knocked him off-balance. Then the boy was flipping through the air to a point behind him, and the next kick landed solidly between his shoulder blades, putting him on the ground.
For that first stunned moment, he couldn't move - and it was enough to touch off a panicked memory of being downed in that hallway on Youra, his legs useless. The flashback hit him with devastating force, costing him another few precious seconds as he tried to fight his way out of it, to push away the too-insistent memories.
The boy took advantage of Nathan's incapacity to flip through the air and grab his phone. He dangled it in front of Nathan's face for a moment before dropping it in his pocket, turning, and kicking him again.
The kick was almost enough to snap Nathan out of his momentary daze. It knocked him onto his side, and he managed to lash out with one leg fast enough to send the boy stumbling. Desperately, Nathan lurched back to his hands and knees and launched himself at the young operative. He had to hit that phone. Destroy it, even - that would work just as well as the panic button.
He took no note of the shadow crossing the ground between them, cast by a streetlight or telephone pole... not until it caught him across the shoulders, driving him back into the larger block of shade cast by a nearby building even as his fingers grazed the redhead's shirt. Nathan looked up in time to see another of the blank-faced children standing at the mouth of a nearby alley, his hands pulling at the shadows like strings.
There was a tightening around Nathan's ankles, and then his feet were yanked out from under him as his arms were pulled aside, sending him crashing into the pavement with no means to brace himself. The shadows felt like quicksand, sucking and pulling at him, threatening to drown him.
No- He could almost feel his powers, as if the power-nullifer was having trouble keeping the block intact. Nathan tapped into all that desperation - and anger - and flung himself, mentally speaking, at the block.
It fractured, just enough to give him a flicker of telekinesis. And he used it to lash out at the phone in the redheaded boy's pocket, feeling it fracture.
The shadow beneath him surged up at the same time as the one above him pressed down, squeezing him tightly and covering his face. The pressure tightened around him like a vise, cutting off his vision and squeezing the air from his lungs.
Blind, unable to breathe, Nathan struggled doggedly, hitting the barrier between him and his powers again and again, using the last of his strength to do so. But it only firmed up, instead of fracturing further. Grew deeper, too, until his awareness of it as a barrier faded, and there was only echoing emptiness where his awareness of the minds and the lines of force around him should have been.
Delicate fingers pierced through the shadows and took ahold of Nathan's head, forcing his eyes up to lock with those of a young woman. Curly red hair the colour of sunset fell down to partly obscure eyes that might have once been warm but now held the cold regard of an operative.
Electricity arched from her small hands, running along her fingers and then down through Nathan's body.
And the lights went out, rather more conclusively this time.
===
Nathan's had been good advice, although Machado wasn't sure why he'd given it. Why he cared, when she'd betrayed him. But she'd taken it, and slipped out the back door of the restaurant when he went out the fight. Even as she ran, she could hear the sounds of the fight from behind her.
What have I done? I had to, didn't I? It had seemed like the only way, the only way to be sure that the children and the rest of her people would be left alone. The man who had called her had seemed so ruthless, so... precise about what he would do if she continued to be 'obstructionist'.
And so she had handed over to him a good man, someone she could have called a friend, or at least a colleague. What did that make her? What kind of horrible person...
There was a voice in her mind, steady and reassuring. Telling her to stay where she was, that help was on the way. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to tell the voice that she didn't deserve help, that she was responsible for this. But somehow, she found herself squeezing into the space between two garbage bins, just enough of a hiding place to allow her to stay out of sight of anyone at the mouth of the alley.
The voice insisted that it would be all right. Mariana was too shocked at herself, too wracked with guilt, to ask how.
(OOC: Many thanks to k8, Bounce and Seraph for socking!)
The Brazilian restaurant was the very definition of a hole in the wall. As such, it probably served pretty good food, Nathan reflected, checking his surroundings meticulously before he went ahead into the restaurant. He'd taken the most roundabout route imaginable to get here, in one of the cars from the mansion pool rather than his own SUV. He'd even gotten Charles to do a quick scan of the area, to make sure no one was hiding somewhere. Everything seemed to be peaceful.
He had every layer of mental shielding he was capable of producing up, and yet he still felt like he had crosshairs painted on the back of his skull. Why had she insisted that they meet here? His nerves jangling, Nathan paused just inside the door, eyes scanning the interior - noting the exit to the kitchen, the fire door, a short hallway leading to the restrooms - until his gaze fell on Mariana Machado.
"Is there some reason we couldn't do this at the school?" he asked brusquely as he joined her in the booth. She had a cup of coffee and two menus, one of which she pushed across the table to him with a flickering smile. "I do have an office."
"I know. But I met with Professor Xavier, as well as the representative from SHIELD, here in the city," the Brazilian mutant said softly. "They were both concerned about me being observed en route to the mansion. It seemed like a worthwhile precaution for this meeting as well."
Nathan just grunted, lifting the menu. He supposed she had a point, although if Taygetos had surveillance that good he'd be surprised. Also in rather deep shit. "Whatever. We're both here. My wife tells me the kids are doing well so far on the island," he said.
"They are. I need to thank her," Machado said with another halting smile, "for putting their well-being ahead of the need for information. The gentleman from SHIELD was quite disgruntled with her for telling his people that they would have to wait until the initial period of assessment was over before asking any questions."
"I know. I suspected that was going to happen as soon as she and Charles had them shipped to Muir so soon." There hadn't been any real reason to move them out of the mansion that quickly, otherwise. "You said you wanted to talk to me about them. Why me and not Moira?"
Machado's hands folded and unfolded around her coffee cup. "I understand that Muir has an excellent record with rehabilitation, but I wasn't sure if they had ever addressed a situation this specific. On the other hand, I am very familiar with Elpis's DDR program."
"...oh," Nathan said blankly. Why had that not occurred to him yet? Moira hadn't raised the possibility either. "Of course. Well, the only problem is that it's set up for, uh, conventional mutant child soldiers. If there is such a thing."
"And my children's needs are more complex."
'My' children. That was telling. "Much. They were never part of society to begin with. It'd be integration, not reintegration." Nathan frowned, then paused to order as the waitress came over. Machado ordered as well, and Nathan shook his head as the waitress retreated again. "I wonder if their take on Brazilian street food is as authentic as the menu makes it look," he said, more to buy himself a moment to think than anything else.
Machado gave him a faint smile. "I'm told it's very good. I felt like a touch of home. It's been a very long few days."
"I can imagine." Nathan took a sip from his water glass. "All right. Regarding the kids, I'd need to talk to our experts-"
"Yourself and your former comrades?" Machado asked, very softly.
Nathan froze, staring at her over the rim of the water glass for a moment before he set it back down. "I meant the people with all the fancy degrees and years of experience who designed the DDR programs for us. Exactly what do you know about me and my 'former comrades'?"
Machado took a deep breath and let it out again on something that was almost a sigh as she pushed her coffee cup aside. "The gentleman from SHIELD may have mentioned something," she murmured.
And it sounded coy, Nathan thought, frowning. Like she was avoiding the question. "SHIELD's aware of my background," he said, his voice clipped. "I didn't think they made a habit of publicizing it." In fact, they should have been making a habit of not talking about it.
Machado's eyes dropped. "Out of curiosity," she said quietly, "why do you and the others keep it secret?"
"I'm sorry," Nathan said harshly, although he kept his voice very low, "but I don't think my past as a brainwashed mutant supersoldier is conducive to being taken seriously as an activist."
Another faint smile from the woman across from him, although this one was almost tremulous. "Are you certain?" she asked. "You and your friends are a very fine example of the depths to which 'normal' humans can sink."
"And I'm years past wanting to be pitied for it." He didn't know why the conversation had suddenly taken a turn into left field like this, but he didn't like it. "Can we get back on topic?" he asked, sucking in a breath and making a mental note to ask Charles to call someone at SHIELD and yell at them. Confidentiality went both ways. "Your kids-"
"I care for them very much, you realize." Machado's voice, though quiet, was oddly urgent suddenly. "I've been the one to care for them this last year. I've seen them trying to... reach out, to make contact with the world. It's barely noticeable at times but it's there. They deserve a chance to be... guided out of their shells."
"And they're going to get it," Nathan said, leaning back in his chair, wary at the woman's sudden intensity. "But you realize this is going to be a long-term process? They need to learn so much they were never taught." Whether they would ever learn enough to function 'normally' in society was a depressing question.
"I know. And I will do anything I have to do to buy them that time." Machado's eyes were overly bright, suddenly, and Nathan could see her swallow, as if past a lump in her throat. "My friend Javier may have given his life for these children and others like them. I may never know for certain. Did Jean tell you about what she found in his notes? About this Trojan Horse of yours?"
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "I saw the notes," he said guardedly.
"Then you know. How complex an understanding of the conditioning your Ms. Kritzer had, to create something that could destroy it in a moment." Machado's eyes moved away from Nathan, scanning the restaurant. As if looking for someone. "You saw what Javier said about reverse-engineering it, too?"
"No," Nathan said slowly, "I saw him say that the worm program was a product of reverse-engineering the conditioning. Kritzer had to figure out exactly how it worked to know how to destroy it. How to exploit every gap and weak spot.
The realization hit him like a punch in the stomach as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Machado was staring at him steadily, her eyes full of unshed tears - and guilt.
"What did you do?" he hissed, half-rising.
"What I had to do," she whispered shakily. "I'm so sorry, Nathan. But it was the only way to guarantee their safety, the safety of all my people. I had to make sure there was no need to use them as leverage anymore!"
"Your friend didn't sacrifice himself so that you could hand them a way to bulletproof the fucking conditioning!" Nathan said violently, his voice much louder as he slid out of the booth. "That's what you're trying to do, don't kid yourself!" Machado reached out to grab his wrist, and he twisted out of her grip easily. "Get the hell away from me," he growled at her, "and get out of here! If you don't think they'll kill you too, you're deluding yourself!"
The restaurant door opened. Nathan looked up - and right at the young man from months ago in Puerto Rico, the one who'd blocked his powers. Even as he felt the world around him go flat and silent he reacted and rushed the much smaller man, knocking him back through the door and out onto the street.
He smashed a fist into the younger man's face with all his strength, did it again, then slammed his head into the pavement for good measure. It was enough to leave the power-nullifier at least dazed, to judge by how Nathan's telekinetic awareness started to come back in fits and starts. Distance, the cold voice at the back of his mind instructed, and Nathan was on his feet and running for the nearest alley as fast he could. Steps away, his telepathy came back, equally fitful, just in time to let him sense the next attacker incoming.
There was a roar from his left as he reached the alley and a sound like a rumble of thunder as feet stomped toward him at a dead run. There was the sound of bone meeting soft tissue a moment later as the young feral charged the man they'd been sent to subdue and capture. He was careful, using the force of his charge and his horns to launch Nathan into the air rather then crushing him against a wall.
Nathan had done the running of the bulls once in Pamplona, years and years ago when he'd been young and stupid. He'd done pretty well at it, but those had been relatively dumb animals. Not... minotaur-like mutants who'd come out of nowhere. The impact with the wall was stunning, and Nathan slid to the ground, gasping for air. Fuck... He gave into the adrenaline and lashed out telekinetically at the other mutant, whose face was shockingly young despite his towering height.
The young feral grunted as he was knocked back out into the street. Flat on his back, he glanced sideways and nodded at his companion now that they had the man in the shadows. Having given the signal, he climbed to his feet, heading back toward the older man. All he needed to do was distract him and move him into position. Hopefully it wouldn't lead to any broken bones.
A thick, beefy hand reached down and picked Nathan up by the front of the shirt, dragging him against the brick of the wall. Nathan had just enough time to catch a glimpse of a short, stocky blonde before she threw him back towards her horned partner.
Nathan should have been able to re-direct his trajectory, but his head was still spinning from the initial impact. He did at least manage to use the momentum, driving an elbow into the bull-like mutant's ribs as he fell against him.
The young feral roared again, this time in pain as Nate's elbow connected and he stumbled back a step. He'd grown so quickly when his mutation had kicked in that he still had difficulty moving gracefully. But you didn't need grace to beat the ever loving crap out of someone.
Reaching down, he placed an overly large square palmed hand around Nate's neck and picked him up easily, turned a quick circle like a discus thrower and launched him back at his partner.
The girl watched impassively as Nathan skidded to a halt at her feet, then picked him up again with no regard for their height difference. A fist slammed into his face, then into his gut before she dropped him again. Before he could catch his breath, a quick kick was delivered to his ribs, and then the blonde bent over him again.
The telekinetic sledgehammer slammed into her like a full-body check in a hockey game, if the force of said check had been magnified by a factor of five or so. Brick or not, she went down hard, and Nathan rolled to his feet, staggering. He tried to produce a follow-up shockwave, to push them both away, but it died stillborn as his powers went dead again.
Which left him with precisely one option, and he took it. He ran, heading down the street this time. It was a hell of a risk, drawing them anywhere near innocent bystanders. But he wasn't ready to die, and if he tried to take them on hand-to-hand without his powers, the chances that he wasn't getting out of this were pretty good. Nathan managed to get his hand into his pocket, intending to push the panic button ,on his phone.
A smaller redheaded boy dropped from a rooftop above him, hands slamming into Nathan's shoulders. Bouncing off him, the boy somersaulted in mid air, landing in front of Nathan and knocking the man's phone out of his grip.
I hate acrobats. Super-agility was one of those things one dealt with much easier with one's fucking telekinesis. Nathan tried to duck under the boy's next attack, to go for the phone, but the glancing kick to his shoulder knocked him off-balance. Then the boy was flipping through the air to a point behind him, and the next kick landed solidly between his shoulder blades, putting him on the ground.
For that first stunned moment, he couldn't move - and it was enough to touch off a panicked memory of being downed in that hallway on Youra, his legs useless. The flashback hit him with devastating force, costing him another few precious seconds as he tried to fight his way out of it, to push away the too-insistent memories.
The boy took advantage of Nathan's incapacity to flip through the air and grab his phone. He dangled it in front of Nathan's face for a moment before dropping it in his pocket, turning, and kicking him again.
The kick was almost enough to snap Nathan out of his momentary daze. It knocked him onto his side, and he managed to lash out with one leg fast enough to send the boy stumbling. Desperately, Nathan lurched back to his hands and knees and launched himself at the young operative. He had to hit that phone. Destroy it, even - that would work just as well as the panic button.
He took no note of the shadow crossing the ground between them, cast by a streetlight or telephone pole... not until it caught him across the shoulders, driving him back into the larger block of shade cast by a nearby building even as his fingers grazed the redhead's shirt. Nathan looked up in time to see another of the blank-faced children standing at the mouth of a nearby alley, his hands pulling at the shadows like strings.
There was a tightening around Nathan's ankles, and then his feet were yanked out from under him as his arms were pulled aside, sending him crashing into the pavement with no means to brace himself. The shadows felt like quicksand, sucking and pulling at him, threatening to drown him.
No- He could almost feel his powers, as if the power-nullifer was having trouble keeping the block intact. Nathan tapped into all that desperation - and anger - and flung himself, mentally speaking, at the block.
It fractured, just enough to give him a flicker of telekinesis. And he used it to lash out at the phone in the redheaded boy's pocket, feeling it fracture.
The shadow beneath him surged up at the same time as the one above him pressed down, squeezing him tightly and covering his face. The pressure tightened around him like a vise, cutting off his vision and squeezing the air from his lungs.
Blind, unable to breathe, Nathan struggled doggedly, hitting the barrier between him and his powers again and again, using the last of his strength to do so. But it only firmed up, instead of fracturing further. Grew deeper, too, until his awareness of it as a barrier faded, and there was only echoing emptiness where his awareness of the minds and the lines of force around him should have been.
Delicate fingers pierced through the shadows and took ahold of Nathan's head, forcing his eyes up to lock with those of a young woman. Curly red hair the colour of sunset fell down to partly obscure eyes that might have once been warm but now held the cold regard of an operative.
Electricity arched from her small hands, running along her fingers and then down through Nathan's body.
And the lights went out, rather more conclusively this time.
===
Nathan's had been good advice, although Machado wasn't sure why he'd given it. Why he cared, when she'd betrayed him. But she'd taken it, and slipped out the back door of the restaurant when he went out the fight. Even as she ran, she could hear the sounds of the fight from behind her.
What have I done? I had to, didn't I? It had seemed like the only way, the only way to be sure that the children and the rest of her people would be left alone. The man who had called her had seemed so ruthless, so... precise about what he would do if she continued to be 'obstructionist'.
And so she had handed over to him a good man, someone she could have called a friend, or at least a colleague. What did that make her? What kind of horrible person...
There was a voice in her mind, steady and reassuring. Telling her to stay where she was, that help was on the way. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to tell the voice that she didn't deserve help, that she was responsible for this. But somehow, she found herself squeezing into the space between two garbage bins, just enough of a hiding place to allow her to stay out of sight of anyone at the mouth of the alley.
The voice insisted that it would be all right. Mariana was too shocked at herself, too wracked with guilt, to ask how.
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