Sign Is Vital, Hands Are Cold [Closed]

[Chase Campbell]

(This was written as a collaboration between Tony, Mads, and Sean, and with the permission of Chezuu, who has left the site for personal reasons and retired her characters.)


Chase hated lying to James. But it had become alarmingly easy in the past few weeks. He had been lying about where he was going, what he was doing. Time spent with Sean under the guise of helping clean his garage (something James wouldn’t go near with a fifty foot pole) was actually spent planning. But excuses wore thin, and the trainer knew it. This time, he’d left the house after kissing James goodbye, telling him that now the garage was clear, he could actually start helping Sean fix the car that Josh had wrecked.

It was getting too easy to lie to him.

The drive to Sean’s never seemed long enough to wash away the guilt he felt. He didn’t like sneaking behind his husband’s back, but it was the only way. With a little sigh, he threw his car into park and headed up the path to the door, knocking anxiously.

Sean had already prepared for the meeting. Everything was set up in the kitchen, and he’d sent L.C. to the movies. He’d heard Chase’s approaching thoughts – guilt, mostly, but that wasn’t usual when it came to these meetings – and answered after the knocks. “I trust James still suspects nothing?” Chase just shook his head, another small wave of guilt washing over him.

“No. I told him I’m helping you fix your car. I figured he’d want to stay home with Nikki after hearing that.” Sean nodded.

“Good. It’s better that way. I have coffee in the kitchen, we can get started there.” Knowing the younger man would follow, he turned and headed to the kitchen. Chase fell into step behind him.

“I know. He’d try to stop me if he knew.” He didn’t want to think about that. So instead, he focused on the reason they were here in the first place. “How much more do we know about Underwood?” Sean didn’t answer right away, busying himself with pouring coffee. Chase slid into one of the kitchen chairs, waiting until the psychiatrist placed the mug in front of him and settled across from him.

“A possible location. I didn't bother with the authorities given that they have yet to find a single lead on their own." Chase wrapped his hands around his mug, listening intently. A location? He leaned a little closer, eager.

“Where? Is it close?”

“Closer than I’d like.”

“Tell me where.”

“Supposedly on the other side of town, near the border. A McMansion.” Chase paused. On the other side of town? That close?

“So what are we waiting for?” If they knew where the bastard was hiding, what was stopping them from going now?

"Opportunity and planning. We don't know if he's there this minute, and we don't know who's mixed up with him." Chase leaned back in his chair, looking slightly defeated. If it was up to him, they wouldn’t be waiting around. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with frustration.

“So how the hell do we find out?”

“Surveillance. Haven’t you ever read a spy novel?” Surveillance. That was their option? Chase scowled slightly.

“’Course I have. But surveillance takes too damned long.” Sean was unfazed, his patience proving strong.

"Surveillance makes sure we get him. Since we don't know who's mixed up with him, we can't take the risk of going out there and not only finding that he isn't with them but being shot."

"... How long is that going to take? I don't want to wait much longer. Not with him out there, with that list of kids. Kids, Sean. Who knows what the hell he's up to."

“Trust me, I'm aware, Chase. I don't like him being out there any more than you do, but we need to be practical. Take a few days to see who goes in and who leaves, to get a feel for it. The last thing either of us needs is to attend our own funerals."

"Nobody's going to die, Sean. I just don't want to wait around for him to pull something else. He's targeting Hammel. How long before he hits us again?"

"Do you own a firearm?" That made the trainer pause. What did that have to do with anything?

“... No?”

"Neither do I. But I'll bet my next paycheck that Gabriel does. More than one. So you can't guarantee we won't get hurt or killed, and I want to maximize our odds of surviving. We won't get a redo on this. If he tries anything against Hammel again, we're prepared, and we're on our turf. This is enemy territory we're discussing; we can't rush in blind."

"... So we're back to surveillance detail."

"For a few days, yes. That way we have a plan. We cover our bases and prepare for the different possibilities. Then we go."

"Fine. But as soon as he's alone... I'm taking him down.”

*

This felt downright criminal. For a man that had abided by the law for so long, this felt... wrong. But it didn’t stop Chase from moving forward, towards the massive compound. He and Sean had done their homework. This was the time of day that fewest members (and there were a lot of members) were within the compound. What they did at this time, Chase wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. The fewer, the better. This was not going to be easy.

He crept forward, trying to be aware of everything at once, his mental shields as tight as they’d ever been. If they were caught now, the entire mission would be tanked before it even started. Much as he wanted to charge in, he had to keep that desire in check. He knew Sean had his back, but that would only help so much if he did something stupid. This required a kind of patience that Chase didn’t often possess.

His advantage rested solely on his ability. If he encountered an operative, even from a distance, it would be easy to deter them from his path. He just couldn’t spend a lot of time controlling any number of people. He needed his strength for one person alone.

That bastard was going down.

Slipping through the door had been easy. It was clear that Gabriel’s superiority complex channelled down even to his house. He didn’t seem to expect anyone to break in like this. At least not through the front door. The trainer was moving faster now. Sean warned him when someone was close through thought alone, and Chase would get into their heads, force them away with the lightest of touches. It was something he’d perfected in his final year of training. Changing someone’s mind without them ever knowing. It worked, to the point of cockiness. Chase moved ahead, moved to where he knew Gabriel spent a good deal of time, leaving Sean behind. There was only one thing on his mind now.

The moment he was through the threshold of the study, he knew this was it. There he was. There was the man that had wreaked havoc on his family. Chase lifted his chin and concentrated, before reaching out. He was going to pay.

Gabe couldn't even turn his head. Someone was holding his body in place, in a way he hadn't felt in years. Not since Hammel. He had psychic defenses, but this wasn't him thumbing his nose at Sean Neville, wrapped tight under shields. He'd been ambushed.

Even before a voice from behind him asked, "Do you know who I am?" Gabriel knew it wasn't Neville. The psychiatrist was both too honorable and too cowardly to attack. If they were ever to do anything other than their little dance, it would have been because he started it.

The blond man was a surprise. He looked familiar, but in a vague way. It wasn't until he felt his will to fight ebbing away that he knew who this was. Jesse had told him about one of the trainers from Hammel, a jock who had no issues with using his powers on students, subduing them in his class. Mind Control. Domination. Messy abilities that didn't allow him full access to the mind; the bastard didn't even know what he was thinking now.

Suddenly, his mouth was free. His hands were still frozen, as was the rest of his body. But as the Dominator tried to push him into docility, Gabe fought back with words. "You can't do this forever. You can't keep me under forever, and you can't kill me."

"Shut up," Chase mumbled, trying to focus. He'd had to let go of part of Gabriel's mind, or else he would have lost his grip entirely.

"You're going to try to keep me docile, but you don't destroy memories, and you're already getting tired." He smirked, knowing he could out-wait the man, and then he wouldn't even have to force his way through shields. "So why is it you, coming after me, and not Sean?" Gabe was succumbing to the will to not fight, so the barb was mild. "Not that he'd do it either, but you're not going to kill me.

"You hurt James."

Oh, so that's why the blond was familiar. It had been his face he'd torn up. "You were in the picture." The smirk curled higher, "Tell me, did he cry, after?"

"Shut up."

"How's your daughter? How's Nikki?"

"Shut up."

He was getting to him. It was working. Everyone had their trigger, and it figures his would be the same as his husband's. Soon, the blond man would slip, and this would end. Gabe focused, and managed to curl his fingers in his pocket, around his cell, unlocking it. Backup was always a good idea. Now he just had to stall, wait him out. "You're not going to kill me because you're too noble. What would James say if he knew you killed someone? Does he even know you're here?"

Chase swallowed the lump in his throat, and for the first time, he realized that only one of them could walk away from this. Either he had to shut Gabriel down completely, or he would die. "Sean, I need you." Chase thought, hoping the older man was still in range telepathically.

"You can't do this. This was stupid, but so brave, trying to be the hero. How about you let go of me, and I'll end this quickly." Gabe's voice was a low purr, gaining strength as he felt most of the mental hold release. The puppeteer still couldn't move his legs, but his hands were free now, as was his mind. He tried to project himself, but the blond's mental shields were tight. "There you go, just let go and I will kill you quickly. I'll even make it look like an accident, so James won't know you risked leaving him alo--" Gabe's eyes went wide as his words were cut off. His mouth could still move, and now his legs too, but...he wasn't breathing.

The trainer didn't look away. Survival instincts were strong, and stopping someone's lungs took much more energy than keeping them in place. He had to concentrate, he had to fixate on just doing this, so he could walk away, and he had to watch as Gabriel Underwood fumbled for something in his pocket, then slowly collapse.

It was easier, once the mental wards went, to keep him down. It was so easy to keep the lungs from breathing that Chase stopped, because it shouldn't be so easy to smother another human with his mind. "Please, Sean, get here soon." Chase prayed, eying the body on the ground. He couldn't tell if Gabriel was breathing anymore.

[Lala & Reese Degreas]

Reese emptied another clip into the target, waiting as it rolled back to her. The range was sometimes a pain, seeing as the target slid along the line for up to sixty feet. She laid the gun gingerly on the shelf that separated her from the target and examined the paper target closely as it waved in front of her. She tilted her head. There was a huge hole blasted in the left side of the target. A fairly accurate set of shots, but she would have liked it if the hole were smaller. Lala sat cross-legged behind her, pleased with their work despite its small imperfections.

The short-haired twin pulled the earplugs from her ears just in time to watch their cell phone scoot across the linoleum floor, vibrating with a new text message. Lala blinked down at it and suddenly snatched it as a bird would pluck a fish from the water. Holding it very close to her face she flipped it open and paled .

Stumdy helpp.

The phone was left open, forgotten on the ground as the twin’s bolted at superhuman speed up three flights of stairs, their blood pounding in their ears. The text message was short and misspelled. Gabe rarely texted the twins…or even called them really. They were always near him; always available. But even now, being in the same house, they were too far away.

The dogs hadn’t even barked. They turned their heads in a docile manner as the twins bolted past them. Reese took the stairs two at a time, Lala drawing a knife from her side. The study door was nearly slammed off its hinges as Reese opted to bash it in rather than turn the knob. Their eyes took in everything at once. Reese the attacker, Lala Gabe’s unmoving body. A shriek filled the room and it was unclear from which twin it came. Reese was upon Chase in a sudden whirl, her fists flying at his face and chest.

Lala collapsed next to Gabe, keening softly and pulling his limp body into her lap, whispering in barely audible Portuguese. Reese, on the other hand was nearly spitting with rage, her fists crushing against Chase until he fell and she leaped on top of him.

“Vou te matar!” Reese growled trying to maneuver around the blond man’s struggles to close her fingers around his throat. “Lentamente, Lentamente…” Lala repeated, rocking Gabe softly for a moment before leaving him propped in the chair, her curly hair wild about her face. The knife was still dangling in her hand, loose. She threw it without looking.

Reese plucked the knife out of the air, the very end of the blade nicking her palm as she adjusted her grip to grasp the hilt in a white-knuckled hold. She aimed it in Chase’s eye. “Do you understand me? I’m going to kill you./Do you understand me? I’m going to kill you.”

The blade shuddered over Chase’s face, Reese’s arm taught with the desire to simply plunge it into his brain and twist, digging at the back of his skull. Her heart beat too quickly, entirely mad with grief.

“You did this. You did this.” Warm tears rolled off of her cheeks, dripping into Chase’s hair. “You did this!” The knife swiped quickly across his cheek, a shallow cut that would sting more than it would scar. Lala surveyed the fight distantly as if deciding what bone would be best to break first. Her dainty foot, bare and cool, rested on Chase’s ankle, stepping down slowly. The pressure increased to a painful extent, and Lala simply continued to stare desolately at her sister and the bastard that had torn their world apart.

“Say you’re sorry.” Lala said, her voice as innocent as a child’s whose toy had been broken by a bully. Reese pressed the tip of the knife against Chase’s nose, her brown eyes boring into his with a hatred that was palpable.

“Murderer. You’re a murderer. Assasino”

[Chase Campbell]

Chase was still in a semi-state of shock. It wasn’t supposed to be that easy. He could feel the sweat rolling down his back from the effort. He could feel himself breathing a little more heavily. He needed to get out of here. He’d done what he’d come to do. He took in a slow, deep breath, still not daring to check Gabriel’s breathing status. He didn’t want to know. God. What if he had killed him? What would James say? He was just getting over being afraid of him, and his powers. What was going to happen now?

He needed to find Sean, and get out of there. Now. He was going to be hit with a hell of a migraine, and soon, and if he wasn’t out of there, somewhere safe, he’d be useless. He took one last, wary look at the limp body before stepping back.

What he didn’t expect was company. The two women he recognized from their surveillance detail. What he didn’t know was what they were capable of. He realized too late that he was to them what Gabriel had been to him. He’d just harmed someone important to them. God, he was no better than that sadistic basta –

He didn’t get to finish that thought. The short haired one was close to him, fists flying. Some, he managed to block, but she was strong, and more than enough found their target. This was not good. He had to get out of here. He tried turning his mind against her, but he could barely get a foothold before he had to let go. He didn’t have enough energy left.

He didn’t understand what she was yelling. All he knew was that it sounded angry, and then he was down. Standing, he’d had a chance. But the moment he hit the ground, he realized that Gabriel wasn’t the only danger. He could still die. At the hands of his lackeys, he could die. He struggled, trying to keep her hands off of his throat. He had to get out of here alive. He had to get back to James. To Nikki. His family.

And then there was a knife. Chase tried not to show that he was terrified. If he could just get into her head, he could put a stop to this. It wouldn’t be easy. He knew that. But he just needed a second. One single moment.

Her challenge made him scowl in defiance. He wasn’t going to die. Not if he could help it. But challenging her wouldn’t change matters. He just stared at her, trying to muster his remaining energy. If he could just get the knife away from her... he’d have a fighting chance.

The slide of the blade into his skin made him want to wince, to struggle harder. But he didn’t. There was no point in wasting energy on something as petty as that. He just concentrated. Her mind was guarded. Strong. But he managed a good enough grip to distract her. Just long enough to make a grab for the knife, pitching it across the room. But it was the sudden, sickening pain the long haired one was causing that made him lose his grip. He bit back a pained scream. He would not apologize. Not for this. “He got what was coming to him, the sick bastard.” The defiance was back in his eyes. Damn it. If he was going to die, they were going to know why he did what he did.

[Lala & Reese Degreas]

Reese was about to simply plunge the knife into his eye and bask in the sound of his screaming, anything to know that he was feeling the same pain she was, but something was…wrong. He suddenly slid out of focus, everything did. It was looking through the world through cellophane, or something else strange. Her ears rang slightly, and a glassy look blew over the eyes of both twins. Their link was interrupted only slightly, but it was enough for Reese to lose the grip on the knife. The skittering of the blade across the floor is what brought the twins back together.

Reese’s bloodlust was rekindled by the sickening crack from Chase’s ankle. Lala simply stepped back, as if she’d done nothing but squish a bug, tilting her head at the canted angle of Chase’s foot. If Chase had been an ordered execution, the Twins probably would have found his defiance admirable and dispatched him quickly. In this case? It only stoked their wrath. Reese backhanded Chase hard enough to strain his neck muscles, and hauled him up close to her face by his neck so that her ragged breath ruffled his hair.

“Gabriel was a thousand times the man you will ever be!” She shouted, her sister moving to hoist a likely dazed Chase to his feet and drag him towards the huge picture window nearby.

“He would never kill an enemy with his powers/He would never kill and enemy with his powers” The twins spoke in unison with a monotone that was so similar it was like hearing a singular voice. It also proved just how much faith they had in Gabriel. Had he ever used his powers to kill? They weren't sure: but they knew he was above killing someone with their back turned.

The toe’s of Chase’s shoes barely scuffed the floor as the twins dragged him to the window as if he were a rag doll. Reese put her elbow through the window without much effort, unflinching as she stared down in Chase’s eyes. Lala memorized the look in those eyes, committing them to a memory vivid enough that tears sprang to their eyes. Glass littered the floor as Reese brought
her elbow back inside, ignoring the stinging in her arm.

The hole was not big enough for a person to fit through, but it would assure that Chase was shredded to ribbons on the way down. “I will tell your husband that you love him, if a demon like you is capable of love./I will tell your husband that you love him, if a demon like you is capable of love.”

Reese struggled to keep from simply strangling Chase and watching the life drain out of his eyes. That wasn’t enough. They wanted him mangled. They wanted him to serve as a reminder. A personification of the pain he’d caused.

“Is that your wish?/Is that your wish?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

When Sean had agreed to go with Chase all those months ago, he hadn’t predicted the current turn of events. At first, his participation had been an attempt to calm Chase down and to talk some sense into the younger man. Sean was skilled when it came to patience and to helping others see the importance of the virtue. In one way, he’d been successful, since Chase hadn’t rushed out in an attempt to avenge James. But the younger man hadn’t given up his desire to find Gabriel, and Sean did think it necessary to keep an eye on the puppeteer, particularly when it became apparent that law enforcement would do nothing for them.

Still, when they had actually gone out, he had been there primarily as backup: to make sure that Chase didn’t get hurt and to provide an escape when necessary. And while he had come with the intent to breaking and entering, he hadn’t imagined that there would be a death to contend with. Not from their side.

While Chase had gone inside, he’d remained in the back near the van, prepared to break into a 60 mile-per-hour chase should they need to escape. But then he heard Chase’s mental pleas for help, and that plan was forgotten.

Fortunately for them, the psychiatrist could be like a ninja when he wished, going through a house unnoticed. His footsteps were heavy, and he was too large to make himself invisible, but none of that mattered. When he didn’t want to be remembered, he wouldn’t be, and he became the man who wasn’t there.

Unfortunately for them, while Gabriel and Chase were at the beginnings of middle age, and the rest of the M.S.A.D. members had yet to arrive, Sean was at the tail end of it. He’d never been a fast runner, due to his center of gravity, and now his knees ached when he pushed them too hard. While he could get around the few accomplices he saw as he made his way through the house, it still took precious time for him to find Chase. And by the time he got upstairs, his heart pounded in his ears.

But he did arrive, and then his eyes went wide. Rather than seeing Chase struggle with Gabriel, he saw Gabriel unmoving on the floor, and two women – those same women who had nearly killed his closest friend – attacking Chase. His instincts had been right about them being affiliated with Gabriel. And there wasn't time for proper analysis, not with an assault in progress. “You,” he sputtered, announcing his presence in the room. There went his calm; although to his credit, he was about as calm as someone in his position could be expected to be. “You’re not going to hurt any more innocent people.”

[Chase Campbell]

If there was one time that Chase had ever been grateful for his power, it was now. A knife couldn’t be the only threat against him. He knew that. Sean was positive that the group was well armed with firepower. Next to guns, a knife was nothing. He knew that. But in the heat of the moment, it boiled down to self defense. For a moment, he felt he had a fighting chance.

He registered the sound of the bone cracking seconds before the shock wore off. The pain made him scream – there was no holding back this time. He’d broken bones before, but never like that. His chest heaved as he tried to draw in more air, trying to will away the pain.

… Fuck it. It wasn’t going to work. He shuddered, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to keep his wits about him. He needed to get out of here. Sean! Even his thoughts sounded strangled and pained. He would have tried to communicate more, but the sudden feeling of his neck wrenching stopped his thoughts dead. He grunted, trying to pull away, but it was getting harder to fight back. He’d given everything he’d had to silence Gabriel. His strength was quickly failing him.

“He’s… twisted,” Chase shot back. Why didn’t they understand that? He caught a glance at the still motionless Gabriel as the women dragged him. What was the point of trying to call Sean anymore? The women were going to kill him, and Sean would be next.

Never? Were they sure about that? “He was going to… kill me.” He’d been trapped in a kill or be killed situation, and self-preservation had taken over. From what he’d learned from Sean, Gabriel was quite capable of murder, particularly with his powers. The fact that the puppeteer was down now, possibly for good, was the one positive in this whole mess.

He barely registered the sound of the glass breaking. He just stared back into the eyes of the woman that was going to kill him. His jaw was tense as they spoke to him. He’d finally clued into why they were so strong. Gestalt Pair. The way they were speaking now confirmed it. “You stay the fuck away from him,” he hissed.

He would have continued, but a familiar voice was now in the room. It took effort, but Chase managed to look at his accomplice. He needed to get out of here, before they got him, too. Sean! Get outta here!

[Lala & Reese Degreas]

Shaking, screaming, afraid…These things and worse were what the twins had wished on Chase. Now that he was experiencing all of them, it wasn’t enough. They wanted more. They wanted him to suffer more. He didn’t feel it yet. He didn’t feel how they did. When he spoke, adding insult to his murder, Reese clamped her hand tighter around his throat.

“Liar!” Lala shrieked, Reese concentrating her energies on keeping Chase subdued. He didn’t need to talk anymore. His best option was to simply listen. That way he could take their words to heart and to the grace. “You ambushed him!” “You stole him from me!/You stole him from me!” Reese’s voice was a hushed whisper, intense and gritty…while Lala’s shrieking filled the entire room, ringing over the bookshelves. Enough to hide Sean’s approach from their ears

When Lala turned, catching sight of Sean, Reese growled. Neville. Neville was just as much to blame as this creature. “Innocent?, Does this look like innocence to you? This is a murderer. A coward. A hellspawn.!” Lala finished the sentence, pointing down to Gabriel’s body as her sister easily thrust Chase a good few feet out the window. The window shattered, showering a minuscule amount of glass over the girls. The majority went out with Chase, accompanying his body in a grotesque snowfall to the bushes below. Was he dead? It didn’t matter. Not anymore. Sean was a bigger threat than the blond, that much they knew.
He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but the Degreas sisters had a sneaking suspicion Gabriel was afraid of Sean Neville. Gabriel was never afraid without a reason.

Drawing her arm back through the now blown out window, Reese didn’t even take the time to watch Chase land before the sister rushed forward, their steps synchronized on the flooring. One threat to the remaining shambles of their family had been eliminated: it was now time to finish the job.

Gabriel had ordered them early on to protect MSAD. MSAD was his life. His dream. Jesse had become like their brother or their son, and even some of the other operatives: Max, Ivan…The twins only barely hesitated to call them friends.

What was to stop Sean from finishing Chase’s job of picking them off?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean didn’t know if Gabriel was dead; he wasn’t moving – didn’t appear to be moving – although the telepath couldn’t turn his head to look at him, not without taking his eyes off the two women and putting himself at great risk. He had difficulty believing he was dead, if only because he had difficulty imagining what could have happened to lead to Gabriel’s death. Chase had been angry, but not that angry, and how he had managed to get the slip on the puppeteer...that was a question for later. In any other situation, he would check to see if an unconscious person was still breathing – even Gabriel Underwood, a sadistic, sociopath who would see them all dead – because he detested the loss of life. But with Chase in danger, he didn’t have the time, particularly not with these women’s psychotic disposition.

“Violence begets violence,” he warned them. Their violence, Gabriel’s violence, had led this situation. The telepath moved closer to them, trying to find a way to intervene. In their focus on Chase, they implicitly denied what they had done to Josh. These women had brutally assaulted his closest friend, had nearly killed his first love, one of the most well-meaning people Sean had ever met. All because he was different from them. And they had the gall to think about Gabriel as having a dream? His dream was the destruction of humanity and any metas who stood in his way. And the pair followed suit, because they did something completely inhumane; they threw a living being out of a window. Before he could get close enough to stop them.

The telepath was so disgusted that he felt his stomach drop two inches in his abdominal cavity. And as they charged at him, he filled with rage; he felt that desire to stop them for every harm they had caused course through him, side-by-side with adrenaline.

It was that desire to avenge that had brought Chase here in the first place, and which had brought Sean along for the ride. He reached for the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be a desk chair, and he clutched it to his chest in preparation.

But the telepath wasn’t Chase; he wouldn’t let such an urge control him. He fought only in self-defense, and even then, the goal was to immobilize, not to harm. He could never act on such an emotion, and while Robert – bless his memory – was beyond even experiencing the emotion, Sean could only do the next best thing; he let it go, willing it into nothingness. Like a flick of a mental switch.

He heard their thoughts, about how Gabriel had been afraid of him; of course Gabriel had been afraid of him. The sociopath had never liked a situation where he wasn’t in control. But Sean had seen through his charismatic act to view his truly rotten core, and the psychiatrist’s mind was impenetrable; he was the stronger psychic and Gabriel knew it. His strength of mind was what made him perfect to accompany Chase here, and why he had felt it necessary to keep an eye on the situation. But he was also twice the pair’s age, and possessed no physical resistance. He had to act, lest they kill him.

It was a split-second decision, but he was out the door, still clutching the chair. He slammed the door behind him, and shoved the back of the chair tight against the knob. Given the enhanced strength of a gestalt pair, that wouldn’t hold them for long, but it would hold them long enough.

He ran then, quickly through the corridor and down the stairs, retracing his steps through the enormous home. For the few people he passed again, he reached out with his powers and impressed one simple instruction: forget.

The adrenaline gave him the energy he needed to exit the house, and once outside, to jog around the perimeter until he found the bushes where Chase had landed. He was a bloody mess, and as Sean got closer, he saw shards of glass embedded in his skin, hair, and clothing. This was a disaster; it simply wasn’t the disaster Sean had expected. He’d expected a psychic battle with Gabriel not...not those same women throwing Chase out of a window.

Carefully, he extricated the younger man from the bushes and lifted him up into his arms, mindful of the glass shards and branch bits. Though bleeding, he was breathing and still warm. Small miracles. “We need to get out of here now. Hold on to me if you can.”

[Chase Campbell]

Wasn’t that what Chase had come here to inflict upon Gabriel? Fear? Pain? He hadn’t managed to do that. Instead, he’d killed the man. That thought alone was like a stab in the gut. He hadn’t come here with the intention of murder. He’d wanted to inflict some harm, yes. But killing hadn’t crossed his mind until it had become a matter of survival. The twins could do what they wanted to him now. Nothing they could do could make him feel as terrible as he already did. He’d killed someone. With his power. How was James going to look at him now?

His train of thought was effectively crashed as the girls shrieked at him, hands closing around his throat. He couldn’t deny their accusations, even if he could speak at all. He just stared up, into her hurt eyes. He knew a fraction of what she felt. The violation, the anger. He’d felt it moments after he’d learned Gabriel was responsible for his husband’s attack. Jamie, he managed to whimper in his mind. Jamie, I’m sorry.

Sean’s arrival, though welcome, didn’t make the trainer feel better about the situation. His biggest fears could be realized so easily. The women could kill Sean as easily as they’d taken him down, and it would be all. His. Fault.

He didn’t even want to listen to what the women were saying. He still couldn’t deny any of it. Closing his eyes, he just waited for them to finish him off. He wasn’t sure how they would dispatch him. Guns, knives, their bare hands. What he didn’t expect was the sudden motion, and the sickening feeling of falling.

It was surreal. He knew he was falling. He knew it was going to hurt when he landed. Already he felt the sting of the broken glass. He opened his eyes, watching the building fall away. Sean. I’m sorry. If you survive… tell Jamie I love him. Those were the trainer’s last thoughts before he hit the ground.

For a moment, there was nothing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and wondered if he was dead. But then came the pain, the feeling that his chest was on fire, the dizzying headache that was exactly unlike a migraine should feel. He opened his eyes, vision blurring. He was alive. In pain, but alive.

He didn’t know what was going up in the house. If Sean was even still alive. But it hurt to do so much as think. He couldn’t even find the energy to call out mentally. It was all he could do to just concentrate on breathing. God, it hurt. But to his credit, he stayed as quiet as he could, his eyes falling closed again. If any of the remaining lackeys found him now, he’d probably be shot point blank.

But it wasn’t a lackey that found him. When he forced himself to open his eyes at the sound of footsteps, he was relieved to see Sean. At least until he felt his arms around him. It took everything he had not to make a sound beyond a low groan he bit down on. Something didn’t feel right in his chest, and moving wasn’t helping. “O-okay,” he managed to sputter, hanging on to the older man as best he could. “I’m sorry.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean could barely feel the younger man wrap his arms around him for security, and a quick glimpse down confirmed that his grip was weak. This meant he would have to find the proper balance between fleeing for their lives and moving slowly enough to keep from jerking Chase around too harshly as they escaped. Fortunately he was up to the task; he had no choice in the matter, and so he had to be up for it.

This was, after all, what he’d signed on for: providing the getaway car and medical care if Chase required it.

“I know,” he told the other man, mustering what amount of gentleness he could in this hectic situation. He didn’t doubt for a moment the sincerity of Chase’s apology. And while he didn’t know precisely what had transpired in that room before he appeared, he knew that the other man hadn’t come with the intent of committing murder. He also doubted that it was cold-blooded, given Gabriel’s demeanor, general behavior patterns, and powers. The gestalt pair was hardly a credible source of information, given that they found it acceptable to assault random passersby, that they belonged to a terrorist organization, and that they seemed to believe that Gabriel Underwood was the Dalai Lama.

Somehow they made it to the van without any further intervention; his memory manipulation indoors had been to their benefit. As had, perhaps, the chair he’d used as a barricade. The telepath awkwardly shifted his arms around Chase in order to slide open the back door; once open, he set the other man down in the back, lying across the entire row of seats. He belted him in to keep him from sliding down.

This would be easier with another person, like when Cobalt had been there with him for Josh, even with all the arguing. But they were alone, and Sean was grateful for that. Nobody else needed to be at risk, nobody else needed to be an accessory to this.

Chase looked miserable. Sean wished that he could do something to dull the pain. Moments like these made him wish that he actually had the full scope of a comic book character’s abilities. He was the strongest living psychic they knew about and yet he couldn’t even take away Chase’s pain. And Kathleen thought he was a threat?

On the other hand, a man was dead due to psychic powers. Best not to ruminate on that for now.

Once Chase was properly strapped, the psychiatrist shut the door and went around to the driver’s seat. He slipped behind the wheel, and began to drive, accelerating quickly to take them off the property. Once they were back on the road, he pulled his cell phone out of the glove compartment. It was a crime to talk on a cell phone while driving, but given the circumstances, a minor traffic infraction would be the least of his concerns. Dialing a familiar number, he then cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, while keeping his eyes on the road. “Is Doctor Wechsler there? Can you put him on?” A pause while the phone was handed off on the other end. “Ethan? It’s Sean. I have another emergency, and I need the utmost discretion. We’ll be there soon. I’ll fill out all the paperwork, and I’ll do the nursing work. Just keep this between us. Thank you.” He could count on Ethan, although he had to wonder what the younger man thought he was up to, bringing a second middle-aged man with brutal injuries to him in so many months.

They’d cross that bridge when they got to it. Hanging up the phone, he spoke over his shoulder to Chase. “I’m taking you to the hospital, but don’t worry, I have a colleague there who’ll keep this to himself.” Sean trusted Ethan, and if information did get out, he was able to cover their tracks well enough. “Let’s just hope this ends here.”

There were other matters, of course, such as what Chase would tell James, but that was his decision to make, not Sean’s. Sean’s only concern right now was making sure that Chase’s injuries were treated, and hoping that this was the last they would hear from Gabriel’s organization, now that he was no longer a threat.

Considering the expression on those women’s faces, and the fact that they knew his name, that hope didn’t quite ring true.

[Chase Campbell]

The last time Chase had been carried like this, he’d been a mere child. Hell, the last time he’d been carried at all had been as a teenager, horsing around with his friends. But this was so different. Sean certainly wasn’t his father, nor a teenage troublemaker. It was strange, the thoughts that came about when one was clinging to the conscious world. Chase was focusing on three things at the moment. Just three small things. Breathing, holding onto Sean, and keeping his eyes open.

At least Sean knew he was sorry. He was sorry. He hadn’t wanted to kill Gabriel. He would defend that to the death. He hadn’t gone there to kill him. Scare him, yes. Inflict a little damage, perhaps. But not death. It still made Chase feel sick. Or perhaps that was the pain. He couldn’t separate the two anymore. “’m sorry,” he repeated, but it was quieter this time, tainted with the pain he was trying so hard to hide. As strangely comforting it was to be held by someone, it wasn’t Sean he wanted. James was going to be livid, and would probably be close to having a panic attack, but goddammit. He wanted his husband.

As Sean shifted to open the van’s door, Chase barely managed to muffle the pained groan that escaped. He spent so much time being the strong one. Around James, particularly this past summer. With his students, with Nikki. … Fuck. Nikki. The thought of the little boy nearly brought tears to his eyes. What if he’d died at the hands of Gabriel? The twins? He’d never see him again. Or James. Or… God, he’d messed up. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his family. But the pain that wracked his body as Sean lay him on the seats brought that desire crashing down. Before that happened, before he could even think about seeing them, he needed help. He knew that.

Everything hurt. His neck, his chest, his head, god, his ankle. It was all he could do to keep himself awake and semi-alert. Much as he wanted to, he didn’t even close his eyes as he felt the van begin to move. He just focused on his breathing, trying to forget the burn in his chest. He was no expert, but from the pain, he expected fractures. He’d broken bones before, he knew what it felt like.

He vaguely listened as Sean fumbled around in the front, and tried to focus on his voice as he talked on the phone. He understood that Sean was contacting someone in the medical profession. He didn’t care. It was scary, how much he didn’t care. He could have died. He could have died, and the last thing he would have done was lie to James. It was killing him. He wanted to cry.

He listened to what Sean said to him, and he swallowed hard. It took him a moment to even form the words in his mind. It took even longer to work them into speech. “You can’t,” he started, trying to battle pain, tears, and guilt. “You can’t tell Jamie.” He could taste blood in his mouth. “You can’t tell him I did this.” He’d killed a man, and he’d nearly been killed in the process. Much as he didn’t want James to know… he wanted his husband with him. Jamie. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you.

((To follow the twins and M.S.A.D: Pay My Respects to Grace and Virtue

To follow Chase and Sean: This Dark Hour

))