Story Title: Yin and Yang Excerpts
Chapter Title: Pop and Lock
Series Title: Yin and Yang
Author: Mathais
Rating: T
Fandoms: Glee, The Legion of Extraordinary Dancers
Warnings: None.
Pairings: None.
Summary: Mike never used pop and lock to fight.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and elements of Glee and The LXD; I'm just here to play.
Notes: Because The LXD canon is so sparse and piecemeal, there are certain liberties I'm taking with people, timeline, and whatnot that is sure to be Jossed whenever the third season comes out.
OoOoO
Mike never used pop and lock to fight.
Never mind the fact that it was an ability he and Matt shared. Never mind the fact that it was a dance style he truly excelled in.
Mike never used pop and lock to fight.
Not anymore.
OoOoO
Just because they were at peace after the war didn't mean that there wasn't still fighting. It didn't mean that crimes using the Ra didn't happen and that the LXD didn't have to fight to protect.
Mike was reminded of this fact as he crouched low in the warehouse, heart hammering in his chest. His supervisor was pinned down on the other side of the room, and Mike could readily admit that he was scared. Oh god was he scared.
What should have been a training exercise instead got turned into the Ra version of a firefight. Stray Ra powers were flying fast and furious, and all Mike could do was huddle in a corner.
He wasn't ready for this. At all.
Mike's heart nearly leapt into his throat when someone rushed past, stopped, and advanced on him.
"Well, well. Looks like they have babies on the team. Guess they're still hurting."
The man twisted in place, arms trailing languidly. Mike was on his feet in an instant as he felt his muscles tighten.
"No!" he gasped out with a familiar pain in his chest. He settled into his stance and reached deep into the spark inside of him to pull it to the surface. Desperately, Mike focused it into his arms and popped out.
The force knocked his attacker back several paces. It broke him from his pattern, so Mike continued to move. He wasn't at his most fluid, but the Ra pulled him forward as he popped and locked. His attacker shuddered with each hit until he dropped to the ground, unmoving.
Mike panted and lowered his arms. Adrenaline faded alongside the ringing in his ears, leaving only exhaustion behind.
He was terrified. All he could remember was the tightening of his chest like it had long ago. All he could do was stare down at his unmoving assailant.
Was he dead?
Mike knew he should move. Go to a more defensible position. But his gaze rested on the body, and he had to know.
He knelt. Hand trembling, Mike reached for his neck.
His wrist was caught before he even made it. The man's eyes snapped open, and he was moving—
Mike twisted—
—slashed across his neck—
—popped—
—and when he could breathe again, Mike stared. Horrified.
The hand gripped his wrist slackened, but Mike could only look into those eyes so full of hatred as life bled out of them. He was trying to say something, but Mike's ears rang too loudly as his breaths sped.
Besides, Mike wasn't sure how intelligible someone with a crushed throat could be.
He focused on the man's eyes, but he kept being to the throat. To where the evidence of his actions lay. It felt like he was zooming in on the wound as the edges of his vision darkened.
Eventually, he blacked out.
OoOoO
His instructor found him not long later, unconscious and utterly traumatized.
Though sessions with the therapist helped, and Matt's quiet support helped even more, Mike couldn't use pop and lock to fight.
He took up tricking and let the martial arts spins become his new style. He still danced pop and lock and was proud to admit it.
But he couldn't fight with it.
Not with the visions swimming in his head of his first kill.