Gen X - Roadside Assistance
Dec. 6th, 2015 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_spectrum posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsTrying to get accident victims warmed and sheltered, Hank gives Clea a hand and winds up rescuing a stuffed toy.
This was horrible. Clea had never seen anything so chaotic. She had summoned several blankets and a first aid kit when no one was looking and was struggling to hold it all in her arms. Seeing Hank nearby she called out to him, "Hey. Hank. Help?"
Hank had been rather stunned by the mess by which they found themselves surrounded; this was supposed to be a school field trip, after all! He had been expecting nothing more than youthful hijinks from his fellow mansion residents, not anything on the scope and scale of this accident. Luckily Clea's summons snapped him out of his shock and he approached her quickly, looking almost grateful to be given something to do. "Of course, let me take those," he offered, gathering the blankets into his arms. He could hold a lot more a lot more easily than she could.
"If we run out, let me know. I think I have enough juice to summon more." She handed him the blankets that freed her hands to take a gander at the first aid kit. "Okay, let's start over here." Seeing a few people with some small injuries but still needed to look at, as well as a few small children. "Hey, anyone need any blankets or injuries that we can attend too until the emergency crew gets here?" A few nodded while another was trying to calm down a crying toddler.
There were plenty of people who nodded and reached for a blanket, and Clea was waved over by a young man who bent over an older woman who was bleeding from a cut above her eye. "I don't think it's anything serious, but I can't get it to stop," he told her, frowning.
Clea knelt down to get a better look. Opening up her first aid kit, she took out the gloves and put them on before leaning in closely. "No. Just have to put more pressure on it. It doesn't look deep." She pulled out a gauze and placed it over the woman's eye. "Hold it there, securely and don't lift it up to check it out. Just keep applying pressure until help comes."
"Hank, Can I get a blanket for one of these little ones?" She nodded towards a group of children nearby.
"Yes of course, sorry!" With only a few blankets left Hank hurried over to drape them over the kids, most of whom were missing a proper hat, and in one case, boots. Most of them seemed content to curl up under the blankets and wait, their expressions blank with cold and shock, but the little girl who had been crying when they came over continued to do so, wailing at the top of her lungs. Hank frowned and knelt down next to her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, trying to crane his head to meet her eyes. "Are you hurt? Can you tell me where?" She just continued to sob, the tears streaking over her pink cheeks.
"She's not hurt, she just lost something special to her. It's a stuffed dog," her mother said rather hopelessly, shaking her head.
"Oh. Well, if we come across it we'll be sure to return it," Hank offered, though he knew it wasn't much.
"You mean that one?" Clea pointed up into the tree. "Not sure how it got up there, but I will not question physics." The redhead wasn't sure what made her look up at that moment, it must have been a bright colored stuffed animal that caught her attention. "That is kind of high."
It was rather high. Hank frowned as he looked up at the toy; the little girl's cries continued. After a moment he came to a decision. "Could you hold these for me, please?" he asked, taking off his glasses and holding them out to Clea.
"Wait, you are going to climb that?" Clea stood up and took his glasses. "What if you fall?"
"It's very unlikely that I will," he told her, "and if I do the snow should provide an adequate dampener upon the impact. Don't worry, you won't need to add me to your list of patients."
"But...but..." Clea looked back up the tree. "It is high. Not scared? Confident? If you are going to do this, please don't fall."
"I'll be careful." With that, Hank kicked off his shoes and winced - both because stepping onto the snow was incredibly cold and because he knew Clea might catch a glance of his misshapen feet. He had come this far, however, and he knew he could help, and so he tamped down any feelings of embarrassment over the situation and got to work scaling the tree.
"Okay now I have to worry about you getting frost bit." She moved near his shoes to guard them. "Stop making me worry!" She called out to him and bit her lower lip as she watched him starting to climb the tree.
It had been some time since Hank had gone climbing around in trees for fun, but he found it was much like riding a bike. The tree trunk was rather slick but he had little trouble finding hand and footholds in the branches, though his toes did feel rather cold in the winter air. Before long he was close enough to snag the stuffed toy out of the branches and tucked it under his arm before shimmying down again.
Instead of returning to get his shoes he first made his way over to the crying girl, once again crouching down and holding out the toy. "Here you go, all safe and sound." He tried not to notice as the girl's mother glanced down at his feet and recoiled a little.
Clea picked up his shoes and followed him back to the little girl. She did notice the mother's reaction, "You are welcome. I hope your little one will be fine. Here is a blanket just in case." Handing over a blanket before stepping in front of Hank and turning towards him. "Come. Others need your heroism."
Hank gave her a wan smile and took his shoes back, slipping his freezing feet back into them. It was no fun wearing wet socks, but in this case it was far better than the alternative. "Why don't you do the talking from now on and I'll just... hold things."
"Why? You are so personable. And you are doing fine. That little girl will remember you as the guy who saved her stuffed dog." She smiled at him. "But I won't say no to you hold some things. Looks like we are low on blankets. I'll need to summon more."
"Just be careful. Helping all these people isn't worth doing yourself an injury," he told her seriously. "And... thank you." He didn't say for what, and his embarrassed gaze skated away from hers as soon as he said it.
"Says the boy who climbs trees like a champ. At least my injury would be eating too much after this. Maybe a big American burger." She bumped him with her shoulder. "No need to be embarrassed. And you are welcome."
Miles and Julian work together to stop a car falling off the edge of the bridge.
Things were not looking good. While it looked like most of the victims of the accident who were mobile had made their way clear, quite a few others were still trapped in the pile-up. Most of Generation X dedicated themselves to using their talents to comfort and care for the victims while they waited for emergency services to arrive, but Julian and Miles were better suited for a more hands-on rescue.
Miles frog-leaped over an SUV in his way to get to a sedan sandwiched between it and another much larger vehicle. The windows were rolled up, but he could still hear the driver's frantic calls for help as she failed to open the stuck door. He softly knocked on the window to get the driver's attention and offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine! I'll get you out!" he called to her.
He braced himself against the SUV and, gently as he dared, pushed it back like it was some big piece of furniture that needed to be feng shui'd into a better position. The SUV slowly relented, inch by inch, until the terrified driver of the trapped car had enough space to open the door and sidle out. At a quick glance, she looked fine, sweaty and bruised from the impact of the accident, but otherwise safe. But her eyes went wide at the sight of a teenager, short and slim enough to be easily confused for even younger, moving a two-ton motor vehicle with just his own two hands. She shrieked and ran away before Miles could even follow up with her.
"You're welcome."
A beat-up sedan dropped to the ground, its suspension squeaking, a few feet away- the green glow that had held it aloft fading as the terrified passengers were able to finally get out. Julian adjusted a crick in his neck, and approached Miles, "Can't expect them to be thankful," he sighed slightly after and turned to the next car in the Tetris-like crash. Slowly, it started to twist itself out from the wreck.
"Eh, used to it." Frantic banging caught Miles's attention, and he turned to see the passengers of one of those ugly little box-shaped cars trying and failing to open the doors. The car itself was not boxed in with the wreck, but the accident must have damaged the doors so they couldn't be easily opened.
Unless, of course, a spider-bitten super soldier was around to literally rip the door off its hinges and provide an escape for the trapped passengers. "Uh, insurance will pay for this, right? Uh, here you go," he said, passing the door back to the driver, who look alternatively bewildered and grateful.
"If they covered acts of mutant endangerment in their policy, yes- it should." Julian dislodged another vehicle from the wreck- it was like the worst game of Tetris- ever. "I wouldn't worry too much, we'll be long gone before the authorities get here anyway." The chaperon glanced up to see if he could spot their lookout. The sound of twisting metal drew his attention back to the road. "Shit," he breathed- one of the cars they'd just dislodged from the jam had shifted something further down, and now a sedan with people trapped inside was starting to teeter over the edge.
Startled by the curse, Miles first turned to Julian, and then followed his gaze to the endangered car. "Shit!" He wasn't even thinking before bounding over the obstacles in his way to get to the car. Hero instincts immediately took over. Peter would never let him hear the end of it.
Miles knew he was capable of lifting over one ton, as evidenced by that one time (that seemed so long ago now, he thought wistfully) he had thrown a police car at Doctor Octopus to end his rampage. But that was by lifting it from underneath and carefully balancing the weight. Gripping the the undercarriage from one end to pull the teetering vehicle – filled with flailing people, nonetheless – was another matter entirely.
Behind Miles, on the other end of the pile-up, Julian was astonished by the speed that the teen had crossed the distance. He attempted to scramble his way over the vehicles too, but couldn't find footing. "They are going to blame us for this if that car goes, wait..." he sighed and slid off the trunk of the car to the ground, then slowly took off into the air- having forgotten in the moment of panic that he could fly. Fighting the cold that was quickly sapping his energy, the chaperon reached out and created a buffer in front of the car to keep it from falling off the ledge. The wind was fierce and cutting him through the scant protection he wore, he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long- particularly not when most of his concentration was focused on supporting weaker spots in the road's sub-structure.
"Can you push it?" Miles called, straining against the weight of the vehicle. He tried to take a step back to pull the car, but nearly lost his footing in the slippery wintry mess. "If we get it from both ends then we might be able to . . ."
"On three!" there were lives on the line- Julian dug down, pulling from the lines of force around him in order to push when Miles pulled. "One!" He began to let go of some of the points under the bridge in order to concentrate more thoroughly. Several bystanders screamed as the bridge swayed slightly, then settled again against the new- fewer points that he'd tossed up in response. "Two!"
"Three!" Miles finished the count and, with all his scientifically enhanced spider strength, pulled. Even with Julian taking the other side, Miles felt an agony he could not remember feeling before, as friction and gravity threatened to tear his arms out of their sockets. His brain screamed at him to stop, that even if this effort didn't kill him then it would surely maim him. But his heart was louder. What was the point in living if he didn't get everything he had to save lives?
Inch by inch, step by step, Miles and Julian's combined effort pulled the car back from over the edge, until finally the front wheels slammed down on stable ground. Miles fell onto his back, crying and laughing at the same time. "If only my parents could see me now . . ."
Julian watched as the terrified people scurried toward the safety of the other helpers. Turning his mind back to holding the bridge he moved on to the next car with people trapped inside, watching them shrink back as he approached, only to realize his eyes were green again. The initiative that Miles had shown was impressive, quick thinking had saved those people, as much as teamwork had. As Julian freed the next people by wrenching a door off their car, he made a mental note to tell the student just how much he respected him...after a very long nap.
Nica tries to stop another car from adding to the mess, and instead makes an alarming discovery. Luckily Meggan is with her.
Icy pellets blew into Nica's face and she dropped one glowing hand to adjust the scarf she'd pulled up over her nose and mouth as a kind of disguise, before raising it again and focusing on keeping the glow even. Julian and Miles were almost done with their extraction, at least, which meant she'd be able to drop her tired arms and rest for a second. She had to be impressed, however, at how quickly everyone had responded. Go team.
Meggan was watching for anyone else to come upon the scene, and pulled up the hood of her coat quickly as the sleet became worse. She was glad everyone was keeping it together, and wanted to help. She peered into the darkness ahead, trying to see, before rising slightly higher into the air for a better view. That worked. It was bitterly cold, no matter how high or low she was. She pulled up the woolen scarf as the sleet came down harder. With the glow Nica cast, Meggan could see even further now down the interstate now…were those headlights? Yes, they were. “I think I see something.” They weren’t slowing, but she had an idea and moved downward. They needed to see them better in this mess. “Nica? Take my hands!”
"Huh?" Nica blinked, then realised where the voice was coming from and looked up. Meggan was hovering above her, reaching down for her hands and without thinking, Nica reached up and locked her hands around Meggan's wrists, their light shutting off instinctively. With a small "eep", Nica's feet left the ground as Meggan lifted them both into the cold air. "Uh, what're we doing?" she managed to ask through chattering teeth.
“We're turning you into an emergency road flare,” Meggan explained through the sleet. It was colder, but she'd already made fur for the inside of her shoes. It helped. “You know, so the people coming know to watch out for all of this?” Yes, the other girl was heavier than Meggan had anticipated for this stunt, but dangling her shouldn’t take too long. Just long enough for whoever it was to keep from crashing. “Can you turn it back on now?”
"Oh, okay. Yeah, I can do that." Squinting down through the sleet, Nica could just make out the headlights approaching way too fast to avoid the mess ahead. "Okay, here we go." She concentrated, imagining herself full of light and like turning on a switch, her entire body was glowing brightly, even through the layers of clothes. Nica began to grin, satisfied with how well this was working...
...and then she realised she couldn't hold her grip on Meggan's wrists. Hell, she couldn't even feel Meggan's wrists. Instead her hands slipped through the older girl's and she was falling the short distance to the road below.
Right into the path of the oncoming car.
Meggan had grabbed for Nica’s wrist, before she realized what must have happened, and calmed down. It was a powers thing. It was still unnerving to watch a car drive straight through someone. As she landed in a pile of accumulating sleet, she quickly asked the younger girl, “You’re not hurt at all, are you?” If she was okay, they could see to the driver.
"Wha?" Nica turned to Meggan, eyes wide and shocked, still glowing all over. "How? There was the car, and then me..." She looked down at her body, unmarked and unharmed. "What the fuck just happened?"
Meggan was just glad that Nica wasn’t injured. She might be stunned, yes, but probably okay physically. “He drove straight through you,” she confirmed, as she looked Nica over herself. “It’s probably going to be a powers thing?” Because it just had to be, that was the only possible answer. Suddenly being a ghost wasn’t it. “If he didn’t hurt you at all from the impact that wasn’t, I mean.”
"I'm fine?" Nica sounded unsure at first. "I'm fine," she repeated and raised a glowing hand to cautiously poke Meggan in the shoulder. Her finger sank into skin and muscle like it wasn't there. Or perhaps it was her that wasn't there. "This is so freaky," she muttered, jerking her hand back before something bad happened. Something bad... "Oh crap. What happened to the car?"
Meggan paused, but the fingers going through her didn’t hurt. “I know. Maybe if you stay very, very calm, you’ll stop going through people and things and touch again? Take a deep breath,” she suggested. Could coldness exacerbate it? Meggan didn’t know. At Nica’s words, she remembered. Of course, the car! She turned to look herself and pointed. “I think it slid into the ditch.” They needed to see if the person driving was okay.
Nica nodded and took that deep breath. And another. "Is the driver okay?" she asked anxiously. "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" The fear of every newly-manifested mutant.
Maybe breathing didn’t fix the power thing? “I don’t think you hurt anybody at all, Nica,” Meggan carefully observed. If she didn’t know for a fact she’d fall through the other girl like this after that poke, she’d hug her. The road was slick, and the driver just hadn’t seen them. The ditch wasn’t deep, but Meggan would go make absolutely certain the driver wasn’t wounded when he’d gone down there. Or they should both go. “Come with me? We’ll check on him together, even if you can’t touch right now.” It might help.
Nica nodded, her eyes grateful. Exactly what she needed - to reassure herself that the driver was okay, plus giving her something useful to do, to make up for it. "I'd better get rid of the light-brite," she replied, voice a little less panicky than it had been before, and slowly the all-over glow waned and disappeared as they picked their way through the mess on the road.
“You can touch okay now, though?” Meggan just wanted to confirm, as they went into the ditch. The less panic there was to go around, the better. She peered ahead through the darkness, the closer they came. The man seemed shaken as well as confused, as anyone would rightfully be after driving through a person without any real impact of a body.
Nica reached out and poked the side of the car, much in the same way she had poked Meggan's arm. Her finger met cold hard metal, and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Yeah, looks like it." She had a thought about what had actually caused the sudden incorporeality, but first they had a job to do. "Um, hello? Are you okay, sir?" she asked hesitantly, peeking around Meggan to peer into the broken driver's window.
"Did you see that?" The driver - a middle-aged man in a wrinkled suit - seemed to be some kind of salesman, to judge by the cases in the back that had been tossed around by the impact. "An angel, just dropped down in front of me! If I hadn't swerved, I'd have hit that mess up there on the bridge and gotten killed!"
“I think we just missed seeing an angel by a second, Sir, but we saw you go in the ditch,” Meggan hastily answered. Well, at least he wasn’t injured. She quickly glanced over to Nica. How could they explain things to him? They really couldn’t. They shouldn’t.
"Hell of a thing..." The salesman shook his head again over his near-miss and then seemed to realise what was being said to him. "Yeah, yeah, I can't stay here, I'll freeze my as... er, my butt off." He corrected himself as he realised who he was speaking to. "Gimme a hand with one of my cases? There's protein bars in there. Might as well share 'em round while we're waiting." He chuckled. "Might even make a sale or two."
“You really will in this cold. Oh, of course, we’ll help with that,” Meggan agreed. She looked to Nica, and held out one of the cases for her to take, as she gathered up another.
Stephen is having a rough time of it, but doesn't let that stop him from helping Matt rescue a trapped driver.
Things were happening way too fast, first the crash then the bang and people running from the crash scene and someone saying they should help, the teenager couldn't ever remember who. But now he was slowly picking his way through the remains with Matt trying to follow the older man's steps exactly. But where Matt seemed so sure of his footing, able to avoid tripping or sharp point Stephen found that his feet kept slipping and he'd send random pieces of debris skittering across the floor. Maybe this is what Julian had meant when he told Generation-X that they all needed training.
Right now, Matt was wishing for better shoes than the ankle boots he was wearing. Those shoes with the toes he had would be good. Or even his Daredevil boots. These didn't give him as much traction as he would prefer. He almost took them off, but it was both too cold out and too dangerous. Unlike most people with heightened senses, he didn't get healing or invulnerability or anything like that. Nope. Grade-A normal person with a few enhanced senses.
Those senses were helping lead him through the rubble of the crash to find people. Pausing on top of a car, he sniffed, cocking his head to one side and trying to focus on some more fainter sounds. "You okay?" he asked Stephen. The kid was keeping up, but Matt was pretty sure he was glad he couldn't see the rubble and mess of this wreck. It was massive. The smells were bad enough. 'Okay' was a relative term after all.
"I'm o...you know what, no I'm not," Stephen admitted, "It's dark, and I think I've slipped and fallen onto shards of metal at least 3 times." The teen started as the wreck of one of the cars creaked and gave Matt a weak grin, "I'm terrified. How do you guys do this all the time? This might only be my first time but I'm constantly scared that one of the cars will slip and drive me over the edge or I'll screw up somehow."
Pausing, Matt realized that while the dark didn't matter to him, it was likely affecting Stephen. So was the cold and the wet. They affected him too, but he put them out of his mind the best he could. "You're not going to screw up," he said confidently, to reassure the teen. "and you're not going to go over the edge," getting cut by metal was a real concern for them both though. Moving back a little to where he was, Matt sat back on his heels for a minute, then said softly, "It's okay to be scared. You are absolutely entitled to have a melt down....later. Right now, we have a job to do, okay? Can you do it?"
Stephen nodded slowly, "I'm not gonna freak out on you. I mean in a way this is like every childhood dream I've had of playing a hero at an accident and saving the day. Only when you dream you don't think about any of this other stuff or how I have water dripping down my back or almost sprained my ankle. I really need to think through my daydreams better. I'm not gonna fall apart on you Matt, just well...if you hear any squeaks or something can we just ignore them, and not tell Clea? She'd never let me live it down, like ever."
That made him grin, "They will be very manly squeaks," he agreed. "Now, let's keep going, I hear something up ahead," it was faint, but it was there. He crossed over another car, then slid between two that were crumpled together. The smell of blood and gasoline was strong, but he could hear the heartbeat, "Sir? Are you there?' he asked, "Can you hear me?"
The reply was faint, but he at least could hear it. That was good. "Stephen, what do you see? Can you see him?"
"I think maybe...yes there," Stephen started towards a pile of rubble, I can see someone moving." Well not much movement but that was an arm waving backwards and forwards. "I think we need to get the others, no way can we lift that wall off him," he told Matt quietly as they approached.
"Sir, my name's Matt," he said, getting as close as he could. "I'm going to check your breathing and see how you're hurt before we get you out,' he could hear the guy's heartbeat, pained and erratic, but from injury or shock? He didn't smell much blood, which was a positive in a way. He didn't hear much that sounded like internal bleeding either. The guy was trapped, but possibly not as injured as he could be. .That was a lucky thing.
Going back to Stephen, he motioned to the wall. "Can you....move it?" he asked. "You manipulate stuff." Reality.
Tilting his head to the side Stephen stared at the metal in front of him, "Maybe," he allowed, "I've done it to pencils before but never tried it with anything too big," he hedged as he stepped forward to rest his hands on the sheet. It was easier if he thought through it logically, it was just like all those little tricks he had practiced with Clea, form the spell he wanted and feed it energy. "We're going to try to get you out sir, if you feel anything please let me know." As he spoke Steven released the spell letting the metal slowly split in two under his hands.
"This is a really big pencil," Matt assured him. "We don't need the entire thing gone, just enough to get him out," then again, reinforced concrete and metal weighed a ton, quite literally. "Take your time," he added to Stephen.
The guy in the car was panicking and Matt moved back to him, explaining what they were doing, even if he didn't explain how it was being done. If the guy thought there was a whole team of rescue workers getting the wall off, then that was fine. No sense outing themselves as mutants if they could avoid it. "Here, breathe with me," he placed a hand on the man's chest, tapping his fingers in cadence with his heart so the man could calm down more. The calmer he was, the better off for Stephen.
Stephen was aware that Matt was talking to the man, but the words were almost a background drone. There was nothing else to him apart from the metal under his hands, his vision had started to grey out, he wanted nothing more than to sleep, just to collapse right there but he needed to save this man. The metal had to break, and break it did, flowing aside from his hands like mercury as he threw all his will and energy at the sheet of metal.
Pulling as much off and away from the man, Matt kept up a steady patter, partially to reassure the man, but also to keep the sound waves bouncing where he needed them. "I'm going to move you so the paramedics can get in," Matt said to the guy, concerned for Stephen and not wanting to alert anyone to it yet. "Everything is just fine."
Stephen felt more than anything the movement, there was a magical presence on the floor, weak though it was, and then it was gone. He blinked and stepped back from the metal swaying back and forward slightly as he gave Matt a weak grin, "Just like a pencil." he noted and he reached out a hand to the debris to steady himself.
"Sit down before you fall," Matt called to Stephen, he could only help one person at a time right now. He was only beginning to hear the sounds of ambulances pulling up. Thank goodness.
Amadeus finds himself doing emergency surgery, with Topaz and Illyana as his "nurses".
Memories were banging against each other in Amadeus's mind. A cracked cellphone on a green-tiled floor, soaking in red. A nurse going over a cart of medical supplies. And this, the sound of someone thrashing and moaning in pain. The boy stood, his mind a confused jumble. He turned, and there was a man in the snow. His motorcycle was nearby, smashed to pieces. The man moaned and thrashed again, and Amadeus's mind flickered once more, against the razor's edge of a place he desperately tried to never go.
"Don't zone out," he found himself muttering. "Don't zone out, don't zone--"
The small blond girl - wrapped in an oversized Xavier Institute hoodie - crouched down near the man laying in the snow. If she was reminded of anything or anyone, it didn't show; her face was impassive, almost disinterested. She stood up after a few moments and looked around, as though trying to identify someone who could help. Her gaze fell on Amadeus. "Hey," she said, jerking a thumb at the man. "This guy's gonna die."
Amadeus put his hands to his eyes and then shook his head, he almost expected to hear things rattle in there. He was a genius, but a human one, and human brains were sadly fragile. Then he knelt next to the guy in the snow. Amadeus removed the helmet and reached for his keys. He had a small flashlight that he shone in the man's eyes. The man thrashed harder, and his breathing came in labored gasps.
"Crap, sounds like something's wrong with his lungs," Amadeus said. His brain was calling up just about every surgery show he'd watched. He never had to worry about a show's re-watch value, every tv show he'd ever watched was permanently stored in his brain. Though now he was wishing he'd watched less Dragon Ball Z and more 'Tales From the ER'.
"Hey, can you get him to hold still? I need to see if he's got, like brain injury or something."
Illyana considered this for a moment, then shrugged, and sat on his shins. Physical strength wasn't exactly her forte, but she managed to exert enough pressure, bracing her own feet on the ground with her palms behind her in the snow, to keep the thrashing to a minimum.
It was probably a testament to her life that finding a small blonde sitting on an injured man wasn't the strangest thing Topaz had ever seen. "What're you doin'?" The confusion was clear in her voice, accent obviously a bit stressed.
"Trying to see if he's got a brain injury," Amadeus said, voice preternaturally calm. "He's pretty upse--" Amadeus broke off when the man thrashed and cuffed Amadeus on the side of his head. "Ow! Can you get his arms?"
There was no way Topaz was going to be any good holding him down - he easily had a foot and fifty pounds on her. "Hang on," she mumbled, kneeling down beside the man. "Sorry."
And she closed her eyes, reaching out and easily finding the panicked, terrified emotions. She took a deep breath before pulling them all off, and when she opened her eyes again she saw the man blinking, confused and dazed. He was still moving a bit, but it'd be easier to hold him down now. She rested a hand on the wrist closest to her and reached across to hold down the other one as well.
"Go."
"Thanks," Amadeus cast a quick look at his companions and shined his flashlight in the man's eyes. The man's breathing was still labored, and there was a worrying rattle, and the man's eyes were severely dilated. "Oh, well, that explains the agitation. That's... that's a head injury. And the rattle is a buildup of fluid," he unzipped the guy's jacket and felt along his chest. "Broken bones, crushed... Jesus. This guy can't wait for help. He needs something now."
"What are you going to do?" Illyana asked dubiously. She'd picked this guy as the one most likely to be able to help, at least in close proximity, but 'how' was not readily obvious to her.
Amadeus didn't answer her right away, he pulled what looked like a Nintendo DS out of his jacket pocket, but when he flipped it open, the screen and keyboard were unlike any DS ever made. "Kirby," he spoke to it, "Look up emergency surgery--" he rattled off a list of complicated medical terms, which the computer then responded by showing Amadeus a rapid series of images, and his eyes flicked back and forth at an inhuman speed as he digested the info. Then he took a deep breath.
"His sternum is crushed, we need to intubate him and relieve the pressure in his lungs--" he stopped himself, looking at Illyana. "We need to shove a tube down his throat so I can cut holes in his chest. Do we have a tube? Or a straw? Garden hose in your back pocket?" His voice sounded high and funny.
"Yeah, hang on." Topaz was amazingly calm considering she felt like she was going to be sick. But that could wait until later. She slipped her bag off her shoulder and dug through it, finding the water bottle she'd brought and pulling the straw out. "This good?"
"It's something," Amadeus took it. And then couldn't keep the hysterical grin from his face.. "I have no way of disinfecting this thing. You wouldn't by chance have any alcohol in there, would you?" he pointed at Topaz's bag. "Disinfectant? A first aid kit with iodine?" he turned to Illyana. "Did we have one on the bus? Can you check? It's a white box with red letters."
Illyana remembered the first aid kit, because she'd asked the bus driver what they were supposed to do if these extremely high-velocity murder cans hit one another, and the driver had just shown her the first aid kit before asking her to sit down. She nodded, and light flickered beneath her feet for a moment; in another few seconds, she dropped back down next to Amadeus, and held out the first aid kit. It had already been opened, but there was some stuff left.
"Brilliant," Amadeus fished out an alcohol wipe. He disinfected the straw, and then looked at his two companions. "We're going to have to hold him very still so I can shove this thing down his throat, then I'm going to have to punch a couple of holes in him... with no anesthetic. This is the dumbest thing I've tried yet. Topaz, can you make him, like, really calm? Like high-as-a-goddamn-kite calm?"
Topaz squeezed her eyes shut -- for entirely different reasons this time. "Yeah, I've got him," she mumbled. "Just make it quick. He still feels the pain."
"Great, great, great," Amadeus said. He wished he had sent Illyana for some like, brandy or something. Wasn't that how surgeons stayed calm? He took the straw and the flashlight, and carefully inserted the straw down the man's throat. The muscles moved reflexively, but he didn't gag or choke. Soon air could be heard whistling through the straw. But his chest still rattled. Amadeus then swallowed a lump of bile and pulled his penknife off his keyring. One alcohol swipe to disinfect, then he was feeling away at the man's ribcage.
"Here goes nothing," he said, and began to dig. The man whimpered around the straw, but Topaz kept him calm and Illyana kept him from moving. Blood began to cover Amadeus's hands and he felt giddy and light-headed. He began whistling 'Tainted Love' without even realizing it. He was soon rewarded with a hiss of air, and the man's breathing became less labored.
Illyana, snow in her eyelashes, watched Amadeus work curiously, tilting her head when he seemed to be finished. "Is that . . . it?" she asked. In her experience, modern medicine involved more needles; this was - closer to home. So to speak.
"I think so?" Amadeus said. He sat back as lights shone up the road, and emergency services came. "Sorry Mom, I'll take out the garbage now," he said, swaying, "Mian haeyo Eomma," and then pitched backwards into a dead faint.
Topaz heard the thud and cracked an eye open to see Amadeus on the ground. "Blimey," she mumbled, looking back at Illyana. "Police and all them can take it from here. Don't suppose you can teleport him back to the bus?" She nodded to Amadeus.
Illyana shook her head. "Not all of him," she said, unwittingly horrifyingly.
"Alright, well since he'll probably be mad if we chop off his legs..." Topaz pushed herself up, examining the boy. Between the two of them they could probably manage this. "You want his head or his feet?"
Illyana tilted her head thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Feet, I guess," she said, brushing snow off her jeans as she stood up.
"Alright." Topaz went to his head, saying a silent apology to the poor boy. "On three, then."
By the time they made it back to the bus, Amadeus resembled a very damp snowman who was probably developing some interesting bruises, and Illyana had had more than enough of helping her fellow man. "Couldn't he just have stayed awake," she muttered. People here were such babies.
This was horrible. Clea had never seen anything so chaotic. She had summoned several blankets and a first aid kit when no one was looking and was struggling to hold it all in her arms. Seeing Hank nearby she called out to him, "Hey. Hank. Help?"
Hank had been rather stunned by the mess by which they found themselves surrounded; this was supposed to be a school field trip, after all! He had been expecting nothing more than youthful hijinks from his fellow mansion residents, not anything on the scope and scale of this accident. Luckily Clea's summons snapped him out of his shock and he approached her quickly, looking almost grateful to be given something to do. "Of course, let me take those," he offered, gathering the blankets into his arms. He could hold a lot more a lot more easily than she could.
"If we run out, let me know. I think I have enough juice to summon more." She handed him the blankets that freed her hands to take a gander at the first aid kit. "Okay, let's start over here." Seeing a few people with some small injuries but still needed to look at, as well as a few small children. "Hey, anyone need any blankets or injuries that we can attend too until the emergency crew gets here?" A few nodded while another was trying to calm down a crying toddler.
There were plenty of people who nodded and reached for a blanket, and Clea was waved over by a young man who bent over an older woman who was bleeding from a cut above her eye. "I don't think it's anything serious, but I can't get it to stop," he told her, frowning.
Clea knelt down to get a better look. Opening up her first aid kit, she took out the gloves and put them on before leaning in closely. "No. Just have to put more pressure on it. It doesn't look deep." She pulled out a gauze and placed it over the woman's eye. "Hold it there, securely and don't lift it up to check it out. Just keep applying pressure until help comes."
"Hank, Can I get a blanket for one of these little ones?" She nodded towards a group of children nearby.
"Yes of course, sorry!" With only a few blankets left Hank hurried over to drape them over the kids, most of whom were missing a proper hat, and in one case, boots. Most of them seemed content to curl up under the blankets and wait, their expressions blank with cold and shock, but the little girl who had been crying when they came over continued to do so, wailing at the top of her lungs. Hank frowned and knelt down next to her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, trying to crane his head to meet her eyes. "Are you hurt? Can you tell me where?" She just continued to sob, the tears streaking over her pink cheeks.
"She's not hurt, she just lost something special to her. It's a stuffed dog," her mother said rather hopelessly, shaking her head.
"Oh. Well, if we come across it we'll be sure to return it," Hank offered, though he knew it wasn't much.
"You mean that one?" Clea pointed up into the tree. "Not sure how it got up there, but I will not question physics." The redhead wasn't sure what made her look up at that moment, it must have been a bright colored stuffed animal that caught her attention. "That is kind of high."
It was rather high. Hank frowned as he looked up at the toy; the little girl's cries continued. After a moment he came to a decision. "Could you hold these for me, please?" he asked, taking off his glasses and holding them out to Clea.
"Wait, you are going to climb that?" Clea stood up and took his glasses. "What if you fall?"
"It's very unlikely that I will," he told her, "and if I do the snow should provide an adequate dampener upon the impact. Don't worry, you won't need to add me to your list of patients."
"But...but..." Clea looked back up the tree. "It is high. Not scared? Confident? If you are going to do this, please don't fall."
"I'll be careful." With that, Hank kicked off his shoes and winced - both because stepping onto the snow was incredibly cold and because he knew Clea might catch a glance of his misshapen feet. He had come this far, however, and he knew he could help, and so he tamped down any feelings of embarrassment over the situation and got to work scaling the tree.
"Okay now I have to worry about you getting frost bit." She moved near his shoes to guard them. "Stop making me worry!" She called out to him and bit her lower lip as she watched him starting to climb the tree.
It had been some time since Hank had gone climbing around in trees for fun, but he found it was much like riding a bike. The tree trunk was rather slick but he had little trouble finding hand and footholds in the branches, though his toes did feel rather cold in the winter air. Before long he was close enough to snag the stuffed toy out of the branches and tucked it under his arm before shimmying down again.
Instead of returning to get his shoes he first made his way over to the crying girl, once again crouching down and holding out the toy. "Here you go, all safe and sound." He tried not to notice as the girl's mother glanced down at his feet and recoiled a little.
Clea picked up his shoes and followed him back to the little girl. She did notice the mother's reaction, "You are welcome. I hope your little one will be fine. Here is a blanket just in case." Handing over a blanket before stepping in front of Hank and turning towards him. "Come. Others need your heroism."
Hank gave her a wan smile and took his shoes back, slipping his freezing feet back into them. It was no fun wearing wet socks, but in this case it was far better than the alternative. "Why don't you do the talking from now on and I'll just... hold things."
"Why? You are so personable. And you are doing fine. That little girl will remember you as the guy who saved her stuffed dog." She smiled at him. "But I won't say no to you hold some things. Looks like we are low on blankets. I'll need to summon more."
"Just be careful. Helping all these people isn't worth doing yourself an injury," he told her seriously. "And... thank you." He didn't say for what, and his embarrassed gaze skated away from hers as soon as he said it.
"Says the boy who climbs trees like a champ. At least my injury would be eating too much after this. Maybe a big American burger." She bumped him with her shoulder. "No need to be embarrassed. And you are welcome."
Miles and Julian work together to stop a car falling off the edge of the bridge.
Things were not looking good. While it looked like most of the victims of the accident who were mobile had made their way clear, quite a few others were still trapped in the pile-up. Most of Generation X dedicated themselves to using their talents to comfort and care for the victims while they waited for emergency services to arrive, but Julian and Miles were better suited for a more hands-on rescue.
Miles frog-leaped over an SUV in his way to get to a sedan sandwiched between it and another much larger vehicle. The windows were rolled up, but he could still hear the driver's frantic calls for help as she failed to open the stuck door. He softly knocked on the window to get the driver's attention and offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine! I'll get you out!" he called to her.
He braced himself against the SUV and, gently as he dared, pushed it back like it was some big piece of furniture that needed to be feng shui'd into a better position. The SUV slowly relented, inch by inch, until the terrified driver of the trapped car had enough space to open the door and sidle out. At a quick glance, she looked fine, sweaty and bruised from the impact of the accident, but otherwise safe. But her eyes went wide at the sight of a teenager, short and slim enough to be easily confused for even younger, moving a two-ton motor vehicle with just his own two hands. She shrieked and ran away before Miles could even follow up with her.
"You're welcome."
A beat-up sedan dropped to the ground, its suspension squeaking, a few feet away- the green glow that had held it aloft fading as the terrified passengers were able to finally get out. Julian adjusted a crick in his neck, and approached Miles, "Can't expect them to be thankful," he sighed slightly after and turned to the next car in the Tetris-like crash. Slowly, it started to twist itself out from the wreck.
"Eh, used to it." Frantic banging caught Miles's attention, and he turned to see the passengers of one of those ugly little box-shaped cars trying and failing to open the doors. The car itself was not boxed in with the wreck, but the accident must have damaged the doors so they couldn't be easily opened.
Unless, of course, a spider-bitten super soldier was around to literally rip the door off its hinges and provide an escape for the trapped passengers. "Uh, insurance will pay for this, right? Uh, here you go," he said, passing the door back to the driver, who look alternatively bewildered and grateful.
"If they covered acts of mutant endangerment in their policy, yes- it should." Julian dislodged another vehicle from the wreck- it was like the worst game of Tetris- ever. "I wouldn't worry too much, we'll be long gone before the authorities get here anyway." The chaperon glanced up to see if he could spot their lookout. The sound of twisting metal drew his attention back to the road. "Shit," he breathed- one of the cars they'd just dislodged from the jam had shifted something further down, and now a sedan with people trapped inside was starting to teeter over the edge.
Startled by the curse, Miles first turned to Julian, and then followed his gaze to the endangered car. "Shit!" He wasn't even thinking before bounding over the obstacles in his way to get to the car. Hero instincts immediately took over. Peter would never let him hear the end of it.
Miles knew he was capable of lifting over one ton, as evidenced by that one time (that seemed so long ago now, he thought wistfully) he had thrown a police car at Doctor Octopus to end his rampage. But that was by lifting it from underneath and carefully balancing the weight. Gripping the the undercarriage from one end to pull the teetering vehicle – filled with flailing people, nonetheless – was another matter entirely.
Behind Miles, on the other end of the pile-up, Julian was astonished by the speed that the teen had crossed the distance. He attempted to scramble his way over the vehicles too, but couldn't find footing. "They are going to blame us for this if that car goes, wait..." he sighed and slid off the trunk of the car to the ground, then slowly took off into the air- having forgotten in the moment of panic that he could fly. Fighting the cold that was quickly sapping his energy, the chaperon reached out and created a buffer in front of the car to keep it from falling off the ledge. The wind was fierce and cutting him through the scant protection he wore, he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long- particularly not when most of his concentration was focused on supporting weaker spots in the road's sub-structure.
"Can you push it?" Miles called, straining against the weight of the vehicle. He tried to take a step back to pull the car, but nearly lost his footing in the slippery wintry mess. "If we get it from both ends then we might be able to . . ."
"On three!" there were lives on the line- Julian dug down, pulling from the lines of force around him in order to push when Miles pulled. "One!" He began to let go of some of the points under the bridge in order to concentrate more thoroughly. Several bystanders screamed as the bridge swayed slightly, then settled again against the new- fewer points that he'd tossed up in response. "Two!"
"Three!" Miles finished the count and, with all his scientifically enhanced spider strength, pulled. Even with Julian taking the other side, Miles felt an agony he could not remember feeling before, as friction and gravity threatened to tear his arms out of their sockets. His brain screamed at him to stop, that even if this effort didn't kill him then it would surely maim him. But his heart was louder. What was the point in living if he didn't get everything he had to save lives?
Inch by inch, step by step, Miles and Julian's combined effort pulled the car back from over the edge, until finally the front wheels slammed down on stable ground. Miles fell onto his back, crying and laughing at the same time. "If only my parents could see me now . . ."
Julian watched as the terrified people scurried toward the safety of the other helpers. Turning his mind back to holding the bridge he moved on to the next car with people trapped inside, watching them shrink back as he approached, only to realize his eyes were green again. The initiative that Miles had shown was impressive, quick thinking had saved those people, as much as teamwork had. As Julian freed the next people by wrenching a door off their car, he made a mental note to tell the student just how much he respected him...after a very long nap.
Nica tries to stop another car from adding to the mess, and instead makes an alarming discovery. Luckily Meggan is with her.
Icy pellets blew into Nica's face and she dropped one glowing hand to adjust the scarf she'd pulled up over her nose and mouth as a kind of disguise, before raising it again and focusing on keeping the glow even. Julian and Miles were almost done with their extraction, at least, which meant she'd be able to drop her tired arms and rest for a second. She had to be impressed, however, at how quickly everyone had responded. Go team.
Meggan was watching for anyone else to come upon the scene, and pulled up the hood of her coat quickly as the sleet became worse. She was glad everyone was keeping it together, and wanted to help. She peered into the darkness ahead, trying to see, before rising slightly higher into the air for a better view. That worked. It was bitterly cold, no matter how high or low she was. She pulled up the woolen scarf as the sleet came down harder. With the glow Nica cast, Meggan could see even further now down the interstate now…were those headlights? Yes, they were. “I think I see something.” They weren’t slowing, but she had an idea and moved downward. They needed to see them better in this mess. “Nica? Take my hands!”
"Huh?" Nica blinked, then realised where the voice was coming from and looked up. Meggan was hovering above her, reaching down for her hands and without thinking, Nica reached up and locked her hands around Meggan's wrists, their light shutting off instinctively. With a small "eep", Nica's feet left the ground as Meggan lifted them both into the cold air. "Uh, what're we doing?" she managed to ask through chattering teeth.
“We're turning you into an emergency road flare,” Meggan explained through the sleet. It was colder, but she'd already made fur for the inside of her shoes. It helped. “You know, so the people coming know to watch out for all of this?” Yes, the other girl was heavier than Meggan had anticipated for this stunt, but dangling her shouldn’t take too long. Just long enough for whoever it was to keep from crashing. “Can you turn it back on now?”
"Oh, okay. Yeah, I can do that." Squinting down through the sleet, Nica could just make out the headlights approaching way too fast to avoid the mess ahead. "Okay, here we go." She concentrated, imagining herself full of light and like turning on a switch, her entire body was glowing brightly, even through the layers of clothes. Nica began to grin, satisfied with how well this was working...
...and then she realised she couldn't hold her grip on Meggan's wrists. Hell, she couldn't even feel Meggan's wrists. Instead her hands slipped through the older girl's and she was falling the short distance to the road below.
Right into the path of the oncoming car.
Meggan had grabbed for Nica’s wrist, before she realized what must have happened, and calmed down. It was a powers thing. It was still unnerving to watch a car drive straight through someone. As she landed in a pile of accumulating sleet, she quickly asked the younger girl, “You’re not hurt at all, are you?” If she was okay, they could see to the driver.
"Wha?" Nica turned to Meggan, eyes wide and shocked, still glowing all over. "How? There was the car, and then me..." She looked down at her body, unmarked and unharmed. "What the fuck just happened?"
Meggan was just glad that Nica wasn’t injured. She might be stunned, yes, but probably okay physically. “He drove straight through you,” she confirmed, as she looked Nica over herself. “It’s probably going to be a powers thing?” Because it just had to be, that was the only possible answer. Suddenly being a ghost wasn’t it. “If he didn’t hurt you at all from the impact that wasn’t, I mean.”
"I'm fine?" Nica sounded unsure at first. "I'm fine," she repeated and raised a glowing hand to cautiously poke Meggan in the shoulder. Her finger sank into skin and muscle like it wasn't there. Or perhaps it was her that wasn't there. "This is so freaky," she muttered, jerking her hand back before something bad happened. Something bad... "Oh crap. What happened to the car?"
Meggan paused, but the fingers going through her didn’t hurt. “I know. Maybe if you stay very, very calm, you’ll stop going through people and things and touch again? Take a deep breath,” she suggested. Could coldness exacerbate it? Meggan didn’t know. At Nica’s words, she remembered. Of course, the car! She turned to look herself and pointed. “I think it slid into the ditch.” They needed to see if the person driving was okay.
Nica nodded and took that deep breath. And another. "Is the driver okay?" she asked anxiously. "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" The fear of every newly-manifested mutant.
Maybe breathing didn’t fix the power thing? “I don’t think you hurt anybody at all, Nica,” Meggan carefully observed. If she didn’t know for a fact she’d fall through the other girl like this after that poke, she’d hug her. The road was slick, and the driver just hadn’t seen them. The ditch wasn’t deep, but Meggan would go make absolutely certain the driver wasn’t wounded when he’d gone down there. Or they should both go. “Come with me? We’ll check on him together, even if you can’t touch right now.” It might help.
Nica nodded, her eyes grateful. Exactly what she needed - to reassure herself that the driver was okay, plus giving her something useful to do, to make up for it. "I'd better get rid of the light-brite," she replied, voice a little less panicky than it had been before, and slowly the all-over glow waned and disappeared as they picked their way through the mess on the road.
“You can touch okay now, though?” Meggan just wanted to confirm, as they went into the ditch. The less panic there was to go around, the better. She peered ahead through the darkness, the closer they came. The man seemed shaken as well as confused, as anyone would rightfully be after driving through a person without any real impact of a body.
Nica reached out and poked the side of the car, much in the same way she had poked Meggan's arm. Her finger met cold hard metal, and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Yeah, looks like it." She had a thought about what had actually caused the sudden incorporeality, but first they had a job to do. "Um, hello? Are you okay, sir?" she asked hesitantly, peeking around Meggan to peer into the broken driver's window.
"Did you see that?" The driver - a middle-aged man in a wrinkled suit - seemed to be some kind of salesman, to judge by the cases in the back that had been tossed around by the impact. "An angel, just dropped down in front of me! If I hadn't swerved, I'd have hit that mess up there on the bridge and gotten killed!"
“I think we just missed seeing an angel by a second, Sir, but we saw you go in the ditch,” Meggan hastily answered. Well, at least he wasn’t injured. She quickly glanced over to Nica. How could they explain things to him? They really couldn’t. They shouldn’t.
"Hell of a thing..." The salesman shook his head again over his near-miss and then seemed to realise what was being said to him. "Yeah, yeah, I can't stay here, I'll freeze my as... er, my butt off." He corrected himself as he realised who he was speaking to. "Gimme a hand with one of my cases? There's protein bars in there. Might as well share 'em round while we're waiting." He chuckled. "Might even make a sale or two."
“You really will in this cold. Oh, of course, we’ll help with that,” Meggan agreed. She looked to Nica, and held out one of the cases for her to take, as she gathered up another.
Stephen is having a rough time of it, but doesn't let that stop him from helping Matt rescue a trapped driver.
Things were happening way too fast, first the crash then the bang and people running from the crash scene and someone saying they should help, the teenager couldn't ever remember who. But now he was slowly picking his way through the remains with Matt trying to follow the older man's steps exactly. But where Matt seemed so sure of his footing, able to avoid tripping or sharp point Stephen found that his feet kept slipping and he'd send random pieces of debris skittering across the floor. Maybe this is what Julian had meant when he told Generation-X that they all needed training.
Right now, Matt was wishing for better shoes than the ankle boots he was wearing. Those shoes with the toes he had would be good. Or even his Daredevil boots. These didn't give him as much traction as he would prefer. He almost took them off, but it was both too cold out and too dangerous. Unlike most people with heightened senses, he didn't get healing or invulnerability or anything like that. Nope. Grade-A normal person with a few enhanced senses.
Those senses were helping lead him through the rubble of the crash to find people. Pausing on top of a car, he sniffed, cocking his head to one side and trying to focus on some more fainter sounds. "You okay?" he asked Stephen. The kid was keeping up, but Matt was pretty sure he was glad he couldn't see the rubble and mess of this wreck. It was massive. The smells were bad enough. 'Okay' was a relative term after all.
"I'm o...you know what, no I'm not," Stephen admitted, "It's dark, and I think I've slipped and fallen onto shards of metal at least 3 times." The teen started as the wreck of one of the cars creaked and gave Matt a weak grin, "I'm terrified. How do you guys do this all the time? This might only be my first time but I'm constantly scared that one of the cars will slip and drive me over the edge or I'll screw up somehow."
Pausing, Matt realized that while the dark didn't matter to him, it was likely affecting Stephen. So was the cold and the wet. They affected him too, but he put them out of his mind the best he could. "You're not going to screw up," he said confidently, to reassure the teen. "and you're not going to go over the edge," getting cut by metal was a real concern for them both though. Moving back a little to where he was, Matt sat back on his heels for a minute, then said softly, "It's okay to be scared. You are absolutely entitled to have a melt down....later. Right now, we have a job to do, okay? Can you do it?"
Stephen nodded slowly, "I'm not gonna freak out on you. I mean in a way this is like every childhood dream I've had of playing a hero at an accident and saving the day. Only when you dream you don't think about any of this other stuff or how I have water dripping down my back or almost sprained my ankle. I really need to think through my daydreams better. I'm not gonna fall apart on you Matt, just well...if you hear any squeaks or something can we just ignore them, and not tell Clea? She'd never let me live it down, like ever."
That made him grin, "They will be very manly squeaks," he agreed. "Now, let's keep going, I hear something up ahead," it was faint, but it was there. He crossed over another car, then slid between two that were crumpled together. The smell of blood and gasoline was strong, but he could hear the heartbeat, "Sir? Are you there?' he asked, "Can you hear me?"
The reply was faint, but he at least could hear it. That was good. "Stephen, what do you see? Can you see him?"
"I think maybe...yes there," Stephen started towards a pile of rubble, I can see someone moving." Well not much movement but that was an arm waving backwards and forwards. "I think we need to get the others, no way can we lift that wall off him," he told Matt quietly as they approached.
"Sir, my name's Matt," he said, getting as close as he could. "I'm going to check your breathing and see how you're hurt before we get you out,' he could hear the guy's heartbeat, pained and erratic, but from injury or shock? He didn't smell much blood, which was a positive in a way. He didn't hear much that sounded like internal bleeding either. The guy was trapped, but possibly not as injured as he could be. .That was a lucky thing.
Going back to Stephen, he motioned to the wall. "Can you....move it?" he asked. "You manipulate stuff." Reality.
Tilting his head to the side Stephen stared at the metal in front of him, "Maybe," he allowed, "I've done it to pencils before but never tried it with anything too big," he hedged as he stepped forward to rest his hands on the sheet. It was easier if he thought through it logically, it was just like all those little tricks he had practiced with Clea, form the spell he wanted and feed it energy. "We're going to try to get you out sir, if you feel anything please let me know." As he spoke Steven released the spell letting the metal slowly split in two under his hands.
"This is a really big pencil," Matt assured him. "We don't need the entire thing gone, just enough to get him out," then again, reinforced concrete and metal weighed a ton, quite literally. "Take your time," he added to Stephen.
The guy in the car was panicking and Matt moved back to him, explaining what they were doing, even if he didn't explain how it was being done. If the guy thought there was a whole team of rescue workers getting the wall off, then that was fine. No sense outing themselves as mutants if they could avoid it. "Here, breathe with me," he placed a hand on the man's chest, tapping his fingers in cadence with his heart so the man could calm down more. The calmer he was, the better off for Stephen.
Stephen was aware that Matt was talking to the man, but the words were almost a background drone. There was nothing else to him apart from the metal under his hands, his vision had started to grey out, he wanted nothing more than to sleep, just to collapse right there but he needed to save this man. The metal had to break, and break it did, flowing aside from his hands like mercury as he threw all his will and energy at the sheet of metal.
Pulling as much off and away from the man, Matt kept up a steady patter, partially to reassure the man, but also to keep the sound waves bouncing where he needed them. "I'm going to move you so the paramedics can get in," Matt said to the guy, concerned for Stephen and not wanting to alert anyone to it yet. "Everything is just fine."
Stephen felt more than anything the movement, there was a magical presence on the floor, weak though it was, and then it was gone. He blinked and stepped back from the metal swaying back and forward slightly as he gave Matt a weak grin, "Just like a pencil." he noted and he reached out a hand to the debris to steady himself.
"Sit down before you fall," Matt called to Stephen, he could only help one person at a time right now. He was only beginning to hear the sounds of ambulances pulling up. Thank goodness.
Amadeus finds himself doing emergency surgery, with Topaz and Illyana as his "nurses".
Memories were banging against each other in Amadeus's mind. A cracked cellphone on a green-tiled floor, soaking in red. A nurse going over a cart of medical supplies. And this, the sound of someone thrashing and moaning in pain. The boy stood, his mind a confused jumble. He turned, and there was a man in the snow. His motorcycle was nearby, smashed to pieces. The man moaned and thrashed again, and Amadeus's mind flickered once more, against the razor's edge of a place he desperately tried to never go.
"Don't zone out," he found himself muttering. "Don't zone out, don't zone--"
The small blond girl - wrapped in an oversized Xavier Institute hoodie - crouched down near the man laying in the snow. If she was reminded of anything or anyone, it didn't show; her face was impassive, almost disinterested. She stood up after a few moments and looked around, as though trying to identify someone who could help. Her gaze fell on Amadeus. "Hey," she said, jerking a thumb at the man. "This guy's gonna die."
Amadeus put his hands to his eyes and then shook his head, he almost expected to hear things rattle in there. He was a genius, but a human one, and human brains were sadly fragile. Then he knelt next to the guy in the snow. Amadeus removed the helmet and reached for his keys. He had a small flashlight that he shone in the man's eyes. The man thrashed harder, and his breathing came in labored gasps.
"Crap, sounds like something's wrong with his lungs," Amadeus said. His brain was calling up just about every surgery show he'd watched. He never had to worry about a show's re-watch value, every tv show he'd ever watched was permanently stored in his brain. Though now he was wishing he'd watched less Dragon Ball Z and more 'Tales From the ER'.
"Hey, can you get him to hold still? I need to see if he's got, like brain injury or something."
Illyana considered this for a moment, then shrugged, and sat on his shins. Physical strength wasn't exactly her forte, but she managed to exert enough pressure, bracing her own feet on the ground with her palms behind her in the snow, to keep the thrashing to a minimum.
It was probably a testament to her life that finding a small blonde sitting on an injured man wasn't the strangest thing Topaz had ever seen. "What're you doin'?" The confusion was clear in her voice, accent obviously a bit stressed.
"Trying to see if he's got a brain injury," Amadeus said, voice preternaturally calm. "He's pretty upse--" Amadeus broke off when the man thrashed and cuffed Amadeus on the side of his head. "Ow! Can you get his arms?"
There was no way Topaz was going to be any good holding him down - he easily had a foot and fifty pounds on her. "Hang on," she mumbled, kneeling down beside the man. "Sorry."
And she closed her eyes, reaching out and easily finding the panicked, terrified emotions. She took a deep breath before pulling them all off, and when she opened her eyes again she saw the man blinking, confused and dazed. He was still moving a bit, but it'd be easier to hold him down now. She rested a hand on the wrist closest to her and reached across to hold down the other one as well.
"Go."
"Thanks," Amadeus cast a quick look at his companions and shined his flashlight in the man's eyes. The man's breathing was still labored, and there was a worrying rattle, and the man's eyes were severely dilated. "Oh, well, that explains the agitation. That's... that's a head injury. And the rattle is a buildup of fluid," he unzipped the guy's jacket and felt along his chest. "Broken bones, crushed... Jesus. This guy can't wait for help. He needs something now."
"What are you going to do?" Illyana asked dubiously. She'd picked this guy as the one most likely to be able to help, at least in close proximity, but 'how' was not readily obvious to her.
Amadeus didn't answer her right away, he pulled what looked like a Nintendo DS out of his jacket pocket, but when he flipped it open, the screen and keyboard were unlike any DS ever made. "Kirby," he spoke to it, "Look up emergency surgery--" he rattled off a list of complicated medical terms, which the computer then responded by showing Amadeus a rapid series of images, and his eyes flicked back and forth at an inhuman speed as he digested the info. Then he took a deep breath.
"His sternum is crushed, we need to intubate him and relieve the pressure in his lungs--" he stopped himself, looking at Illyana. "We need to shove a tube down his throat so I can cut holes in his chest. Do we have a tube? Or a straw? Garden hose in your back pocket?" His voice sounded high and funny.
"Yeah, hang on." Topaz was amazingly calm considering she felt like she was going to be sick. But that could wait until later. She slipped her bag off her shoulder and dug through it, finding the water bottle she'd brought and pulling the straw out. "This good?"
"It's something," Amadeus took it. And then couldn't keep the hysterical grin from his face.. "I have no way of disinfecting this thing. You wouldn't by chance have any alcohol in there, would you?" he pointed at Topaz's bag. "Disinfectant? A first aid kit with iodine?" he turned to Illyana. "Did we have one on the bus? Can you check? It's a white box with red letters."
Illyana remembered the first aid kit, because she'd asked the bus driver what they were supposed to do if these extremely high-velocity murder cans hit one another, and the driver had just shown her the first aid kit before asking her to sit down. She nodded, and light flickered beneath her feet for a moment; in another few seconds, she dropped back down next to Amadeus, and held out the first aid kit. It had already been opened, but there was some stuff left.
"Brilliant," Amadeus fished out an alcohol wipe. He disinfected the straw, and then looked at his two companions. "We're going to have to hold him very still so I can shove this thing down his throat, then I'm going to have to punch a couple of holes in him... with no anesthetic. This is the dumbest thing I've tried yet. Topaz, can you make him, like, really calm? Like high-as-a-goddamn-kite calm?"
Topaz squeezed her eyes shut -- for entirely different reasons this time. "Yeah, I've got him," she mumbled. "Just make it quick. He still feels the pain."
"Great, great, great," Amadeus said. He wished he had sent Illyana for some like, brandy or something. Wasn't that how surgeons stayed calm? He took the straw and the flashlight, and carefully inserted the straw down the man's throat. The muscles moved reflexively, but he didn't gag or choke. Soon air could be heard whistling through the straw. But his chest still rattled. Amadeus then swallowed a lump of bile and pulled his penknife off his keyring. One alcohol swipe to disinfect, then he was feeling away at the man's ribcage.
"Here goes nothing," he said, and began to dig. The man whimpered around the straw, but Topaz kept him calm and Illyana kept him from moving. Blood began to cover Amadeus's hands and he felt giddy and light-headed. He began whistling 'Tainted Love' without even realizing it. He was soon rewarded with a hiss of air, and the man's breathing became less labored.
Illyana, snow in her eyelashes, watched Amadeus work curiously, tilting her head when he seemed to be finished. "Is that . . . it?" she asked. In her experience, modern medicine involved more needles; this was - closer to home. So to speak.
"I think so?" Amadeus said. He sat back as lights shone up the road, and emergency services came. "Sorry Mom, I'll take out the garbage now," he said, swaying, "Mian haeyo Eomma," and then pitched backwards into a dead faint.
Topaz heard the thud and cracked an eye open to see Amadeus on the ground. "Blimey," she mumbled, looking back at Illyana. "Police and all them can take it from here. Don't suppose you can teleport him back to the bus?" She nodded to Amadeus.
Illyana shook her head. "Not all of him," she said, unwittingly horrifyingly.
"Alright, well since he'll probably be mad if we chop off his legs..." Topaz pushed herself up, examining the boy. Between the two of them they could probably manage this. "You want his head or his feet?"
Illyana tilted her head thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Feet, I guess," she said, brushing snow off her jeans as she stood up.
"Alright." Topaz went to his head, saying a silent apology to the poor boy. "On three, then."
By the time they made it back to the bus, Amadeus resembled a very damp snowman who was probably developing some interesting bruises, and Illyana had had more than enough of helping her fellow man. "Couldn't he just have stayed awake," she muttered. People here were such babies.
