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xp_logsEveryone makes it home, but not all how they expect.
AZTECA was once again wreathed in black flame. The club was still full of construction materials as part of the nearly complete rebuild from the last fire. But compared to before, this was a tsunami of flame, rising high into the night sky. The black flames threw off a stark purpling illumination, not so much lighting the area around it but casting it in a lurid shade. As the roof collapsed, a fireball expanded up and out, gobbling the last bits of flammable materials and exhausting itself in an unnatural geyser of heat and flame.
The fire was unnaturally fast, cindering the building in minutes, and as hot and fierce as it burned, it smoldered just as quickly. With the last great gout of fire, the walls collapsed and the fire receded, like a gas element suddenly turned to low. The columns of fire dissipated and where the club had been, only a blackened radius of char, smoke and ash remained, dotting by the last few flickering flames on the almost entirely consumed furniture.
In the ruins of the building, the smoke hung heavy, obscuring everything. Standing in the parking lot, the mutants could only watch the conflagration spend itself, where they had been just moments before.
He'd gotten a water bottle from somewhere. Kyle wasn't even sure where it had come from. It was flimsy and the label flapped apart under his claws, and it was lukewarm and none of that mattered. Almost none of it went into his mouth. It went over his face and neck, washing away grime and ash into little black rivulets. The last swallow Kyle drank, swished around and then spat out as his head came up slowly. "Can't get the smell out of my face. I think it's baked into the inside of my sinuses." He pulled up the remains of his t-shirt and blew his nose into it. "Amanda, yo, why does the demon lair smell like burned hot dogs?"
“Hot dogs? I don’t…” The blood drained from Amanda’s face as she realized what it was they were smelling. “Oh, no. Oh, fuck.” She looked wildly around. “Someone’s been burned. We need to find them.” She knew exactly who it was, but her mind refused to say the name.
"Kane stayed back," Gabriel grunted from the spot on the ground where he'd gently dropped Brand. His body ached from carrying her out, and he was spent, though he was sure some of the exhaustion was mental. "He said he found another way out." He couldn't make eye-contact with Amanda; the fact that they'd left Garrison behind again was too much for him to process. "I dunno."
Amid the speculation, Jean knew who it was. She almost always knew. How could she not? As a doctor, the telepath was no stranger to the thoughts of pain and shock and sadness coming from others. Death was a constant foe. It was a race, a race she was always trying to win.
"It's Garrison," she said, floating up into the air, and darting toward the mental signature with a rush of wind. Garrison's mind blazed like a beacon, with his thoughts like an undertow. Shock had set in.
Death had started the race.
Jean set to telekinetically moving the smoking and charred wood, metal, and rubble away. The smell grew stronger, burned flesh mixed with the rusty smell of blood. As she moved away more debris, the hard sound of wood and stone gave way to a scraping wet sound as Garrison's body was revealed. It resembled one of those pages showing muscles in an anatomy book. The skin had all been removed, leaving only the tendons and other muscles beneath. What muscles were left had been burned by the fire, leaving mottled, bloody patches.
Had Garrison Kane not been who he was, he would have been dead for a while. But instead...It was a miracle. A horrifying, agonizing, miracle.
"We need to get him back to the Medlab NOW. Someone else call ahead. I need the entire medical staff and as much supplies as we can spare," Jean said. Her eyes flickered closed as she worked on putting him into a telepathic coma.
"Kyle, I need some energy to heal him with." Amanda was white with shock and the hand she held out to Kyle was shaking, but she managed to keep her voice steady. "Then call Blink. Gabe, call ahead to the mansion."
Kyle turned his face away from Garrison, gulping back the acid burn of nausea. He grasped Amanda's hand tightly, and only remembered to pull his claws in after her smaller fingers tightened around his. "Ima call Blink while you do your thing." He said after a moment, voice breaking as his mouth filled with the taste of burned flesh. "I'll let you know if you hit a limit."
His free hand was steady as he tapped his comm. "Blink, one injured. Need a port straight into the sterile room." Then it shook as the pull of magic made the world teeter slightly. "No, it's not me. I'll be fine."
It had been a little while since Amanda had needed to use a donor for healing, but Kyle’s healing factor made him perfect to draw energy from. She continued the drain until she saw Kyle’s face go pale, then dropped his hand. “Thanks,” she said, even while she was turning towards Jean and Garrison. “I can’t heal much – this is too big – but I should be able to stabilize him,” she told Jean, still in that matter-of-fact tone, but her face twisted slightly as she looked at Garrison. “You bloody hero,” she murmured, as she knelt on the charred ground and held both hands above his flayed body. Golden energy spilled from her palms and over the anatomical display, before sinking into the raw flesh. There didn’t seem to be much change, except his breathing smoothed out and the rapid beating of his heart slowed to something more normal.
Amanda dropped her hands, her head hanging limply as she focused on coming back to herself. She’d used more than a little of her own energy as well as Kyle’s, and the stress and exhaustion of the preceding months was catching up.
Gabriel watched her as he punched buttons. He was surprised to find he had the energy to feel both sympathetic and annoyed; he, too, was exhausted. But she had been hiding things from them for quite some time, and he couldn't let it go. And it was easier to think about that then to process everything that had just happened to him inside that burning building. Let alone whatever went on with Garrison.
There'd be time for that later, he knew, and there were bigger concerns at hand. "Hey," he said as soon as he heard a voice answer the call from the mansion. "We've got a situation incoming." He paused, looking at the shell-shocked group in front of him. "I'm not even sure where to start."
AZTECA was once again wreathed in black flame. The club was still full of construction materials as part of the nearly complete rebuild from the last fire. But compared to before, this was a tsunami of flame, rising high into the night sky. The black flames threw off a stark purpling illumination, not so much lighting the area around it but casting it in a lurid shade. As the roof collapsed, a fireball expanded up and out, gobbling the last bits of flammable materials and exhausting itself in an unnatural geyser of heat and flame.
The fire was unnaturally fast, cindering the building in minutes, and as hot and fierce as it burned, it smoldered just as quickly. With the last great gout of fire, the walls collapsed and the fire receded, like a gas element suddenly turned to low. The columns of fire dissipated and where the club had been, only a blackened radius of char, smoke and ash remained, dotting by the last few flickering flames on the almost entirely consumed furniture.
In the ruins of the building, the smoke hung heavy, obscuring everything. Standing in the parking lot, the mutants could only watch the conflagration spend itself, where they had been just moments before.
He'd gotten a water bottle from somewhere. Kyle wasn't even sure where it had come from. It was flimsy and the label flapped apart under his claws, and it was lukewarm and none of that mattered. Almost none of it went into his mouth. It went over his face and neck, washing away grime and ash into little black rivulets. The last swallow Kyle drank, swished around and then spat out as his head came up slowly. "Can't get the smell out of my face. I think it's baked into the inside of my sinuses." He pulled up the remains of his t-shirt and blew his nose into it. "Amanda, yo, why does the demon lair smell like burned hot dogs?"
“Hot dogs? I don’t…” The blood drained from Amanda’s face as she realized what it was they were smelling. “Oh, no. Oh, fuck.” She looked wildly around. “Someone’s been burned. We need to find them.” She knew exactly who it was, but her mind refused to say the name.
"Kane stayed back," Gabriel grunted from the spot on the ground where he'd gently dropped Brand. His body ached from carrying her out, and he was spent, though he was sure some of the exhaustion was mental. "He said he found another way out." He couldn't make eye-contact with Amanda; the fact that they'd left Garrison behind again was too much for him to process. "I dunno."
Amid the speculation, Jean knew who it was. She almost always knew. How could she not? As a doctor, the telepath was no stranger to the thoughts of pain and shock and sadness coming from others. Death was a constant foe. It was a race, a race she was always trying to win.
"It's Garrison," she said, floating up into the air, and darting toward the mental signature with a rush of wind. Garrison's mind blazed like a beacon, with his thoughts like an undertow. Shock had set in.
Death had started the race.
Jean set to telekinetically moving the smoking and charred wood, metal, and rubble away. The smell grew stronger, burned flesh mixed with the rusty smell of blood. As she moved away more debris, the hard sound of wood and stone gave way to a scraping wet sound as Garrison's body was revealed. It resembled one of those pages showing muscles in an anatomy book. The skin had all been removed, leaving only the tendons and other muscles beneath. What muscles were left had been burned by the fire, leaving mottled, bloody patches.
Had Garrison Kane not been who he was, he would have been dead for a while. But instead...It was a miracle. A horrifying, agonizing, miracle.
"We need to get him back to the Medlab NOW. Someone else call ahead. I need the entire medical staff and as much supplies as we can spare," Jean said. Her eyes flickered closed as she worked on putting him into a telepathic coma.
"Kyle, I need some energy to heal him with." Amanda was white with shock and the hand she held out to Kyle was shaking, but she managed to keep her voice steady. "Then call Blink. Gabe, call ahead to the mansion."
Kyle turned his face away from Garrison, gulping back the acid burn of nausea. He grasped Amanda's hand tightly, and only remembered to pull his claws in after her smaller fingers tightened around his. "Ima call Blink while you do your thing." He said after a moment, voice breaking as his mouth filled with the taste of burned flesh. "I'll let you know if you hit a limit."
His free hand was steady as he tapped his comm. "Blink, one injured. Need a port straight into the sterile room." Then it shook as the pull of magic made the world teeter slightly. "No, it's not me. I'll be fine."
It had been a little while since Amanda had needed to use a donor for healing, but Kyle’s healing factor made him perfect to draw energy from. She continued the drain until she saw Kyle’s face go pale, then dropped his hand. “Thanks,” she said, even while she was turning towards Jean and Garrison. “I can’t heal much – this is too big – but I should be able to stabilize him,” she told Jean, still in that matter-of-fact tone, but her face twisted slightly as she looked at Garrison. “You bloody hero,” she murmured, as she knelt on the charred ground and held both hands above his flayed body. Golden energy spilled from her palms and over the anatomical display, before sinking into the raw flesh. There didn’t seem to be much change, except his breathing smoothed out and the rapid beating of his heart slowed to something more normal.
Amanda dropped her hands, her head hanging limply as she focused on coming back to herself. She’d used more than a little of her own energy as well as Kyle’s, and the stress and exhaustion of the preceding months was catching up.
Gabriel watched her as he punched buttons. He was surprised to find he had the energy to feel both sympathetic and annoyed; he, too, was exhausted. But she had been hiding things from them for quite some time, and he couldn't let it go. And it was easier to think about that then to process everything that had just happened to him inside that burning building. Let alone whatever went on with Garrison.
There'd be time for that later, he knew, and there were bigger concerns at hand. "Hey," he said as soon as he heard a voice answer the call from the mansion. "We've got a situation incoming." He paused, looking at the shell-shocked group in front of him. "I'm not even sure where to start."
