Algernon

Part 1: The Dark

Most of the laboratory and battle room below had survived the destruction of the house.

Igarashi promised the 00 cyborgs that their involvement with the Blessed incidents would be stricken from the records if they so wished and they were free to return home. He even offered to send help and supplies to repair the destroyed house, which they denied, adamant they could fix it themselves, as they always had.

They knew he was trying to make up for the events best he could, but with a third of their number lost, the cyborgs couldn't be gracious. Wouldn't be.

They returned home, sinking the Dolphin 3 back into the dark waters and oppressive silence where they could no longer avoid their mourning.

Francoise wept. Great Britain made overdramatic, improvised eulogies to make the others laugh while still honoring his comrades, but the jokes fell flat. Chang made too much food that nobody ate, locked away in the Dolphin 3's galley. Geronimo would go above to sit in contemplation in the shadow of their former home. Pyunma alternated between doing repairs on the Dolphin and clearing the wreckage of the house, mostly by angrily kicking things over. Ivan slept on. Gilmore sat alone in his lab, staring at the pathetic remains of Jet Link they'd managed to recover.

When the UN Guardians recovery teams swept through the streets of New York, collecting all tech to protect their assets, Igarashi granted the cyborgs access to the restricted areas and the remains that they could search for their friend. They still had hope Jet was merely damaged and offline, but even that was denied them as they collected broken, charred pieces among the remains of the Savior Tanks.

Jet had been built with a reinforced head, neck, and back to withstand the stresses of flight, but among the wreckage Gilmore salvaged his mid and lower spine in pieces, useless slag that could not be saved even on its own. This and both Francoise and Ivan's inability to contact Jet in any way finally made them all accept that he too was lost.

They made no graves, did no funeral. They mourned and rebuilt their house.

The house that was now too big, but they couldn't bear to remove the extra rooms.

The closest neighbors were fifteen miles away but came to check on them and lend them their truck. They didn't ask the cyborgs what happened, but they did ask if Joe would be around in three months to housesit when they went on vacation. Joe always went over to care for their dogs when they were gone while Jet tagged along sometimes and drank any beer that wasn't hidden away. Geronimo said Joe might be busy.

After a day of work they would retire to the battle room and sit and eat in silence as long as they could before the question no one wanted to ask came up, but it always did.

"What do we do now?" Pyunma asked, his voice tired, but more so from the weight of the question than from exhaustion.

No one said anything, as was custom, until GB finally sighed in annoyance and set down his cutlery.

"Maybe it's best we go our separate ways again for now. Regardless anyone's intentions, people know where we are, and we're in no shape to handle anymore world-saving bollocks."

And none of them could stand to sit here with such obvious empty spaces at their table.

"We should finish the house first," Francoise said quietly.

"Why? What difference does it make?"

"Because it's our house. And in case Joe…" she trailed off, her voice shaking.

The question was left unanswered and the next morning they went back to work on the house.

Three weeks after they returned to their destroyed home, Joe came trudging up the road, exhausted and damaged, Albert strapped to his back and behind him dragged the German's severed limbs.

The team ran out to meet them, enveloped their returned friends in a mass of hugs and tears and cries of "How? How?" before Joe and Albert were rushed to the laboratory for repair.

Joe couldn't answer very well. He didn't even know himself. He'd been going so fast, the world and time so far behind him, and he had nothing but regret for the loss of Albert and had suddenly seen him so clearly in his mind, that moment they said goodbye for good, that space opened up before him and there was the station, heading towards its doom. That too melted away until there was only Heinrich, and when Joe reached out for him he gripped solid armor, Albert's eyes widening in bewilderment as Joe appeared. They stayed until the last minute, accomplishing the mission while Joe buzzed in acceleration still and tied Albert's limbs to himself, then time and space opened up again and he took Albert with him. It was hazy after that, but Joe thought of home and cut the accelerator and they crashed into the desert, normal time slamming into them harder than the ground.

Joe knew he'd been lucky, not only in rescuing Albert but making it home at all. His newfound power was still alien to him, uncontrollable, and that yawning, silent void awaited him, and that terrified him more than death, more than anything Black Ghost or Emperor or anyone could have ever done to him. He couldn't tempt that.

Francoise wrapped her arms around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, and whispered, "You won't have to. You're home, we're safe."

She kissed him then, long and deep, before moving to Albert and embracing him as well, unable to stop the tears. The rest of the team congratulate them and pat them or took their hands, unable to stop touching them and affirming their existence.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," Albert chuckled, not minding when Francoise sniffed and wiped her nose on his scarf.

"You're in pieces," Chang muttered.

"Could be worse, just ask our resident explosive…" he trailed off, brow furrowed as he scanned his team.

Joe also noticed the absence, sitting up and looking around the expanse of the lab, frowning.

"Where's Jet?"

The collective silence said enough and Joe knew, but still he refused to accept the implication and pressed, asking again, "Where is he?"

"Joe…" Francoise began, her voice weak. They knew Albert wouldn't have known, but Joe… No one told him. They were in the midst of fighting for their lives, for the world, and Jet's life or death became secondary; they would deal with it later, tell Joe later. But then Joe disappeared too.

Pyunma took over. "We were in Battle with the Guardians. Jet and Igarashi took down Director Maximoff together, but Jet was caught in a missile blast." A clinical, simple explanation of what had happened, but Pyunma knew at this point his two friends had stopped really listening.

Albert looked away, face twisted in pain. "Reckless idiot…" he whispered.

"No," Joe said, "Just a missile? That wouldn't…Gilmore could repair him! Why didn't you…!"

"I tried!" Francoise cried, tears running down her face, "I tried to get to him but he wasn't there and you were in trouble and I…" She reached for him, but Joe gently moved aside her hands and stood from the cot.

"No," he said again, "I'll save him. I'll go get him right now."

"Joe, don't." Albert's voice was rough and he wouldn't look at them. "We were gone for weeks and barely made it back. Don't risk yourself. He wouldn't want that."

Joe gazed at his friends, his family, saw their worry and acknowledged it and then pushed it aside. "I'm going to save Jet, and he can tell you all what he'd want himself."

Francoise gave one last plea as he ran out of the room, heard the whine of his accelerator as he made it topside, then he was gone.

"You think he can do it?" Chang asked, voice loud in the silence.

"I hope so," Francoise said. She took a breath, collecting herself, and turned to Albert. "Let's get you back on your feet while we wait for them to come back."

When he didn't respond, she reached out and gently turned his face to her, "I'm sorry, Albert, but let's put our faith in Joe. He pulled off this miracle, and we all know how stubborn Jet can be. They'll be back here and driving us all up the wall in no time."

"There can only be so many miracles," he muttered as Gilmore pushed him back to prep him for repair.

Two days passed before Joe appeared, staggering onto the porch, gasping and alone.

Francoise ran to him, caught him as he sagged. She'd spent those two days waiting on the porch, going inside only when Gilmore needed her help or for meals.

"I can't find him," Joe gasped, "I don't understand."

"Joe, you're exhausted, come inside."

"No, I have to get him. When did it happen? When did he die?"

"After you left, we flew to New York to help you. We were in battle there's no way I can…Joe, please."

He shook his head and pushed to his feet. With a grunt he activated the accelerator and vanished from Francoise's sight. She sat down to wait again.

It was five days when he reappeared, on his hands and knees half a mile from the house, shaking and coughing as bile leaked from his mouth. Francoise called for Geronimo to help her bring him back but again Joe refused, forcing himself to his feet.

Francoise grabbed him and held him fast. "Joe, stop! Please!"

"I have to get him back."

"It was a miracle what you were able to do, to save Albert and to come back! Don't kill yourself for nothing! Jet wouldn't want you to die!"

"He didn't give up on me!" Joe yelled, pushing her away, "Not with Black Ghost, not with His Voice! I'm not giving up on him!"

"Joe," Geronimo's deep voice was calm, "you can't save everyone."

Glaring, Joe staggered away from them. He doubled over, groaning as sparks crawled over him, then lurched forward and accelerated away.

Geronimo made sure Francoise came inside this time.

Two weeks later Joe dropped onto the ground near the road, his accelerator shot and his power reserves nearly depleted. He was alone.

He woke up in bed in his own room, though the walls had yet to be completed and there were no lights installed. Morning sun flooded the room from the window. Joe could only lie there and stare at the ceiling. He failed. He failed not only Jet but everyone. He clenched his eyes shut as burning tears formed and rolled onto his side.

Watch your feet.

Joe sat up, startled, to find Ivan sitting on the bed, regarding him. He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry. How long have I been out?"

About a week. You nearly killed yourself, Gilmore was actually worried. You're fine now, and your accelerator is repaired.

Ivan's image became watery as tears rolled down Joe's face. He couldn't help the hitch in his voice as he said, "I couldn't do it. I tried, over and over again…"

You can't save everyone, Joe, I told you.

"Why?"

It's possible since Jet's death occurred outside your timeline you'll never be able to find him. Moreover, if you attempted to get him when you did last see him you would alter events that have already occurred, and we don't know if you are even capable of that.

"I saved Francoise and Albert."

What happened to Francoise occurred in that moment and was still changeable. Albert was on the space station, removed from events and had he stayed his being would have been erased with no influence or presence. When you took Emperor you removed him from our time, but you changed nothing that had already occurred.

"But Jet..."

Ivan sighed. He hid it better than his comrades, but his sorrow was no less than theirs, possibly even greater as he felt his teammates on levels they couldn't comprehend and their absences formed holes deep within himself, twisting and insatiable.

To save Jet would not only alter events but would demand removal of physical evidence. Albert would have vanished as though he never was. Emperor was simply removed. We have Jet's remains, Joe. Physical proof of what has occurred.

Joe looked away, his fingers twisting in his bedsheets. "I can't save him."

I'm sorry, I wish you could. But as long as we've lived, with all the battles we've fought, it's amazing we haven't suffered a loss before this.

"Too many miracles."

Indeed.

"Can I see him?"

Ivan hesitated. Go eat something first, you were malnourished when we found you, like you'd been gone for months. I'll get Gilmore. Joe…there's not much left of him.

The tears came back, dropping onto Joe's hands. "At least we'll have something to bury this time."

Ivan nodded.