xp_logs | Trojan Horse, part four - ...Than To Fade Away

On the way back to Mistra, Nathan makes a break for it... and gets away. For about ten minutes.

Foley and Lense looked at their cards, and then at each other. Calgary was a fairly boring town, but it did sell good beer and decks of cards, and that suited Mistra's need to lay low _just fine_. Especially considering their "guest", Foley thought with a mental eyeroll. "In for fifty." he said, awkwardly using his bad arm to drop some chips into the pile. "Your bet, Lense."

Lense looked at his cards, then at his rapidly dwindling pile of chips. "No way, woofer. I'm out." he said, throwing his cards down onto the table with a flourish of disgust. "Man, I need another beer. Want one?"

Foley grinned as he raked the pot worth of chips over onto his side of the table. "Yeah, sure." he said, expertly sorting the chips into neat, easily-organized piles. "And don't call me woofer, Suckboy." he added, flipping Lense a friendly middle finger.

Lense limped over to the cooler, opening it to snag two more longnecks. "Hey, Cable. You thirsty?" he asked, reaching into the cooler to retrieve another bottle of beer. "Got a cold one here with your name on it if you want it."

It took a physical effort to open his eyes. "Yeah...right, John," Nathan muttered, his voice slurred. His vision was blurring in and out, but he tried to focus on the two men sitting at the table. "Alcohol... on top of whatever you shot me up with. Great idea..."

Lense smirked, and then dropped the bottle back into the cooler. "Your loss, m'man, your loss." he said, limping over to where Nathan sat drugged out of his mind. Lense's eyes narrowed as he contemplated all the places where he could induce gravitic shear to kill Cable, either as cleanly or as messily as he wanted. It would be so _simple_, and feel so _good_ , but he couldn't. Instead, he satisfied himself with picturing Cable's extremely unpleasant exsanguination for a moment, then he limped back to the card table. "Here ya go, woofer." he said, dropping the beers onto the table. "Who's got next deal?"

Foley scowled at Lense. "Knock it off, asshole. We need him. You know this. And it's your deal." He looked over at where Nathan drooled with something of an apology in his look and in his mind. He looked at the bottles of beer, grinned, and then popped the cap off of Lense's beer using a subsonic burst - which had the bonus effect of sending beer spraying upwards all over Lense.

Lense cursed loudly as beer sprayed up all over him, the cards, and the table. "SonofaBITCH!" he yelled as he lurched up out of his chair. "Asshole!".

"Funny," Nathan muttered, his head sagging sideways for a second before he caught himself. "Always... were a joker, Mick..." Would be so much easier to hate them, but he couldn't. "Either of you... kill anyone in there?"

Foley laughed at Lense, then looked over to Nathan. "Negative. Zero casualties." he said.

"Slipping... definitely slipping..." Concentrate. He'd worked drugged before. Okay, maybe not this drugged, but he didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter, did he? "Look a little worse for wear, both of you..."

Lense whirled around, wincing as his injuries shifted, and then pointed a finger angrily at Nathan. "You! You can just go _fuck yourself_, mister! Our orders..."

"Lense!" barked Foley, cutting the other man off. "Operational security, man. C'mon, don't let him goad you into being stupid! You're a first-gen, act like it!"

Whoops. Nathan laughed weakly, shaking his too-heavy head. Should've known better. He was outside the pale, still. Broken. Not of the pack. Then that led him to thoughts of what they were going to do to fix him when they got him back to wherever the home facility was these days, and he tensed in his chair, straining instinctively against the cuffs.

He could feel them starting to react, wary. "Really scraping the bottom of the barrel that year," he growled at Lense.

Lense glared at Cable, then at Foley. "Fuck you all." he said, then stalk/limped off with as much tattered dignity as he could muster considering that his shirt and pants were soaked in beer.

Foley grinned at Lense as Lense limped off, but held his tongue. As soon as Lense was out of sight, he let out the laugh he had been trying to hold back. "Man, that was too good." he said, then went over to the tiny kitchenette area to look for some rags or paper towels to clean up the spilled beer with.

Nathan tried to peer around the interior of the garage, wondering just where the hell the others were. "Who'd... you lose?" he muttered, wondering how Mick would take it. As an attempt to gather information, most likely. Distract him...? "Not Tim... he pulled me out of the warehouse, didn't he?"

Foley looked grim. "Don't start, Nathan. My tolerance has limits. We lost some good people out there because of your "friends"." he hissed.

"That's what happens... when you can't leave something alone," Nathan growled, fighting to focus. If he could get Mick over here, maybe...

"Dammit, Nathan." Foley said, sounding far more tired than angry. "We did what we did because we had to. Columbia wasn't our idea, man! That one can down from far above us, I'm told."

Nathan jerked at the cuffs again, ignoring the way they bit into his wrists, the pain from the broken one that was still healing. "Noticed... weren't any first-gens there but Tim. What's it like, Mick...? Living with the little psychos day in, day out..."

"It sucks, Nathan. It sucks a _lot_. That's why we need you, man!" he said, then turned away. "I've already said too much. Time to send you back to Morpheus." he said, walking over to the medkit and prepping a syringe.

Now or never. As Foley came over, syringe in hand, Nathan concentrated as hard as he could and snapped the cuffs. A blink, a fractional hesitation on Foley's part as the younger man saw his hands come free, and Nathan seized upon it, launching himself up out of his chair, running on pure adrenalin, his mind snatching randomly at everything in the garage.

Foley growled as the room went mad with poltergeist activity. "He's LOOSE!" he boomed, augmenting his voice with his power. He turned to put some shake-rattle-and-roll into Nathan's bones, but the syringe sticking out of the base of his palm, plunger depressed all the way, told him that he'd never get the chance. "fuck" he managed to say before darkness overtook him.

Oh, holy fuck, Nathan thought, blinking down at him for a moment, swaying on his feet. That hadn't just happened. You'd think Dom was in the house... he thought and turned, taking off at a staggering run for the doors of the garage.

Someone came running headlong down a set of stairs as he passed them. Girl, someone he didn't know. He lashed out at her telekinetically as he kept running for the doors, but his focus was still scattered and his aim was definitely off.

Corcoran looked at Nathan, and then let out a whoop as thick wands of electricity arced from her hands, aimed straight for Nathan. "Oh no you don't!" she said over the crackle of the bolts.

He dove for the floor, but not fast enough. One of the bolts clipped his shoulder and he bit back a cry, managing to roll and come back to his feet even as the muscles in his arm spasmed and then went numb. "Oh yes, I DO!" he spat at her and sent a wave of telekinetic force at her, willing to take out the whole wall of the garage with her if he had to.

The girl had time to go "ohshit!" before the telekinetic wave threw her backwards along with every other unattended object in the path of the wave. She was knocked out cold instantly by the impact, and her body landed like a discarded rag doll when the wave dissipated.

Get out, Nathan told himself frantically and kept running for the doors, smashing them open telekinetically. He could see blue sky, mountains...

And something blurred at him, something--no, someone, that hit him with the force of a speeding truck.

Adams stopped dead, and looked at Nathan with some concern. "You're not in your chair!" he said accusingly. Looking behind Nathan at the devastation, he sighed deeply and set down the large brown bag of what smelled like Chinese food. "And I bought you wontons." he said reproachfully, before starting to administer a professional-grade beating on Nathan.

Too stunned by the initial impact, Nathan couldn't throw up a shield, and Adams, with what he would have regarded as a commendable level of efficiency under other circumstances, had him on the ground in about five seconds flat.

It would have been so easy to give up, let go and slide into unconsciousness. But his mind, drug and pain-fogged as it was, went right back to the next place he'd wake up, and something deepinside him snapped and he let go of his telekinesis, right in Adams' face as the kid leaned over him.

Adams left the ground and soared through the air for about twenty feet before landing on the ground - roughly. "Owww." the speedster said as he tried to stop the pretty birds from whirling over his head and regain control of his body.

Nathan hauled himself back to his feet and ran, no thought in his mind except getting away, to a phone, before the others showed up.

---

Moira shifted in her bed and automatically reached across the bed. She woke up the rest of the way when she encountered nothing, and bit back a sob. Last night had been so full of tears; she couldn't let herself break down again. Slowly, she sat up, wincing as her headache flared again. They had let her out of the medlab this morning, since there were volunteers to watch her. Though who was out there now, she didn't know.

When the phone rang, she blinked at it and then picked it up hesitantly. "'ello?"

Nathan nearly moaned at the sound of Moira's voice. Tired, obviously in pain, but alive... "Moira, it's me," he said weakly, the words spilling out one over the other. "I don't know where I am..."

"O' my God, Nathan?!" At his voice, the tears started spilling again. "Are ye 'urt? Wha' did they do ta ye?" Trying to calm down, she fell out of bed, mentally yelling for Charles.

Nathan tried to steady his breathing, to focus. Everything was still hazy, and the adrenalin was fading enough that he was starting to feel some of the hits he'd taken getting out of the garage. "I got out," he said disjointedly, staring around at his surroundings. Industrial area, but there was nothing he recognized... "Think they drugged me... I don't know where I am..."

She didn't even register the yelp of whoever was laying on her couch at the moment as she bolted through the room and out into the hallway. The room spun slightly because of the concussion but she paid it no mind. The position of Charles' office was firm in her mind. "Baby, jus' concentrate, look around. Where are ye callin' from?"

"A pay phone," Nathan muttered, hanging onto the pay phone's cover for dear life, because he was having a hard time staying upright at the moment. "Industrial area... hardly anyone around. Can't see any cars..." No license plates.

The walls were there so she could push off them, Moira realized. "Industrial...any signs?" she sobbed, not bothering to stop crying now.

"DuPont," Nathan said dazedly. "Pepsi... Trophy Foods..." He could hear her crying, and it broke his heart. "Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice breaking.

"I'm so scared," she whispered, racing down the hall, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Anythin' else, Nathan? _Please_?"

"Street sign," Nathan said, trying to focus. It was down at the end of the block, barely readable. "Exit... exit to something... Glenmore Trail?"

"Good," Moira said, knowing she was almost there. Charles would be able to help. "Keep talkin', baby, please--I'm so sorry..."

"Why..." He didn't understand. "Shouldn't be sorry," he protested feebly. "Nothing to be sorry for... are you all right?" He hadn't gotten a chance to say anything to her, Haroun had gotten her out of the warehouse so quickly... "Oh God," he choked out suddenly, remembering the telepath turning to him, his mind going blank. "I didn't... did I kill anyone? Moira?"

"Nay, no one's dead, Nathan." Another corner, almost there. "I'm fine, bruised but fine. I want ye back 'ere, we're goin' ta get ye back."

Nathan slumped against the phone, feeling tears trickling down his cheek. "I can't think," he rasped. It wasn't just a sedative they'd given him. He could tell. "Pre-conditioning drugs... I know what they feel like..." His voice was cracking, almost hysterical despite its softness.

"Shhh, shhh, 'tis goin' ta be okay, really. Concentrate around them, ye can do it."

Think of her. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate. "Did I tell you I loved you," he said dimly, his voice still shaking. "Before you left... to see Strange. I can't remember if I did..."

"Aye, ye did," Moira replied, breathing heavily from her sprint. "We bot' did an' ye kissed me before I left." A sob broke through.

"Good," Nathan whispered. "That's good..." His eyes flew open and he swallowed past the lump in his throat as he sensed pursuit, coming closer. He hadn't thought it would be long before they caught up. "Tell them not to come after me," he said, the words speeding up. "Tell Charles... he's got to watch the link, Moira, they'll break it..."

"Nathan?" She paused in the hall, gripping the phone. "Run, Nathan, please."

He hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye to the kids. To Amanda... "Tell them not to come after me," he said again, his voice breaking, the anguish seeping through. "It won't be me, Moira." He swallowed hard again, sensing them close. Fanning out to surround him. "I love you," he whispered into the phone. "I always will."

And he dropped the phone and turned to fight.

Moira staggered the few feet to Charles' office doors before collapsing outside of them and sat outside. He found her like that, sobbing into her crossed arms, phone dangling from one hand.

---

Lense, having changed clothes and extracted himself from the wreckage of their warehouse, looked down on Nathan from a nearby rooftop. Seems the little sod had made a phone call, which means that they needed to do the recovery and then move. Immediately. So instead of starting at a nice slow gravity curve, he applied the screws. Hard. The Earth itself screamed to Lense's senses as he applied as steep of a gravity well as he could right underneath Nathan's feet.

The air left Nathan's lungs as he was slammed to the ground, as if a giant hand had just reached down and was doing its almighty best to crush him into the ground. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Spots spun in front of his eyes, darkness rapidly creeping in at the edges of his vision.

There was screaming in the back of his mind, familiar voices... fire? Why was there...

Screaming in rage, Askani wrestled control over his telekinesis from him, and proceeded to open the floodgates.

Lense's eyes went wide as, impossibly, Nathan stood up in an eight-gee gravity well. That shouldn't have even been POSSIBLE, even for a telekinetic of his strength! He started to try to intensify the gravitic field, make the curve even stepper, but the Askani had other ideas. The bird of flame materialized over Nathan, and one fiery wing swept out to smash Lense off of his perch and slam him into the warehouse he was standing on top of. Only his personal gravitic field saved him from a messy death - weightless, he bounced rather than going splat.

Nathan felt Askani lose his grip on his telekinesis, the firebird form collapsing around him and then down into his mind, as if she was spinning off into the dark. He fell as well, back to his knees and nearly all the way down. There was still shouting at the back of his mind, but muffled now, unintelligible.

Piers came loping out of the building by the payphone, and grinned as he saw Nathan staggered and crosseyed. Too easy, he thought, and slashed for Nathan's hamstrings. They needed his brain; he could get by without his legs.

Nathan saw movement out of the corner of his eye and lashed out dizzily, not sure who it was. Not caring. He heard a grunt of pain, but he couldn't press the advantage. He was already falling forward, broken pavement biting into his palms as he went to his hands and knees.

Piers snarled as his claws snagged only cloth and didn't bite into flesh. "I am gonna enjoy crippling you." he snarled, following up with a stiff-fingered clawed strike aimed straight for Nathan's lower back.

Nathan rolled away, coming back to his feet, or almost. His legs were like rubber and gave out on him almost immediately, but he lashed out telekinetically at Piers again, harder this time, the attack much more focused.

Piers took the telekinetic shot straight to the chest, staggering him and blasting the breath from his lungs. It took him precious seconds to get his lungs to unkink enough to allow him to draw breath.

Nathan launched himself at Piers, his attack ragged, erratic, but desperation and adrenalin lending him sudden strength as he seized desperately on the opportunity. Piers was already recovering, blocking, but Nathan got in one good strike to his throat and the feral dropped. Wouldn't keep him down, but it might buy him a few minutes, Nathan thought dazedly, turning to run...

... and didn't get very far as a familiar telekinetic claw swiped down from above and threw Nathan to the ground. "Sorry, Nathan." Morgan said. "But I can't let you go."

Sprawled on the ground, Nathan could taste blood at the back of his throat. Was wondering where he was... he thought dimly. His limbs were obeying him, though, if sluggishly, and he pushed himself back up to his hands and knees, blinking up at Morgan's exoskeleton.

"I'm not... going back," he forced the words out.

"Yes, you are." Morgan said sadly, using his telekinetic claws to try to pin Nathan to the pavement. "I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are, Nathan. Just - come along quietly before anyone else has to get hurt."

Morgan pushed him back down against the pavement, driving the air from his lungs, and Nathan went limp against the road. Spinning... everything was spinning...

"Please..." he wheezed, barely aware of what he was saying. "Tim... they killed them... don't make me..."

"I'm not going to make you do anything, Nathan." he said sadly. "We need you to save us all." he said, then the lights went out.