Chapter 10

Alec was sat forward, eyes frighteningly intense as he stared at the TV they were all watching. Max wanted to do something, anything, that might break his concentration enough to bring back the Alec she thought she had been getting to know. This Alec was too focused, it was hard to imagine what he might do.

On the screen, something they were calling 'Doombots' were rampaging through the streets, seemingly under the direction of one man dressed in black with a metallic face shield. Dr Doom they were calling him and he was challenged by a group the reporters were referring to as the Fantastic Four. Max had never had a huge amount of time for news reports for anywhere outside Seattle and even then it was fleeting, only really paying attention to it to the extent it was going to affect her own life. To her mind, they had enough problems of their own without worrying about anyone else's. Living with Alec and Joshua though, she was beginning to see how they were both fascinated with finding out about the rest of the world. She supposed she could understand it. Alec though seemed to be too invested in the supposed 'superheroes' that made it into the news. She'd watch him change as more and more information came out about them. She had seen him move from being relatively relaxed to, as he was now, leaning forward, shoulders hunched, hands in fists with his finger nails pressing into his palm. She knew from how many times they'd already been through this that by the time the report had finished there would be indentations across his palm from how tightly he had pressed his nails in.

She reached out to run a hand through his hair in the hope of distracting him and he jerked in surprise, eyes flaring wide in alarm for an instant before he registered it was her and apologized. She curled closer to him, feeling a little easier when he lifted his arm and let her settle against his side. She could feel as his breathing grew deeper and more even. "What are you thinking, Alec?" she asked gently.

"Why are they so willing to accept them but not us?"

She didn't have an answer that he'd want to hear. "Because they were human first? Because we were created for war and only that."

"Is that all we are?" he murmured. "Can't we learn to be better than that?"

"Of course we can. Most of us always have been better, but they don't know that. Look at us, Alec, we are building a community here . . . not just you and me, but all of us together. We're learning new skills and fending for ourselves. We are creating a world they never dreamed of, without violence and bloodshed."

"Not without bloodshed," he corrected. "Not without stealing and lying and -"

She cut him off. "We've instigated none of the bloodshed and they are the ones that left us with no choice but to steal to survive. We're willing to work, willing to earn our way, but they aren't giving us that chance."

He sighed, his head dropping back against the cushions, his gaze lazily following the events on screen. The news report changed from the view on the street to an in-studio commentary on the major participants. Introducing each of the so-called Fantastic Four in turn and talking about their skills and their history, how they became superheroes, what they'd done before. An image of each flashed onto the screen as the newscaster talked about the individual. Max's attention was drifting away again as her head rested against Alec's chest, one ear filled with the steady thrum of his heartbeat, his fingers unconsciously coasting up and down her arm. She was caught off-guard when Alec suddenly tensed again. She opened her eyes and saw a man on the screen, he looked vaguely familiar but she was ready to dismiss it as having seen similar reports so often on the news.

"He looks just like him!" Alec said awed. "They're Transgenics. They have to be. Clones - this is all just lies!"

Max pulled herself to sit more upright, looking at him in confusion. "What?"

"Johnny Storm, the Human Torch. He looks just like him."

"He looks like who?" she asked, still baffled.

"Look! Him, he looks just like the one they call Captain America, the one they 'found' in the ice."

Max realized that Alec was right, the reason he looked familiar was not because she'd seen this set of superheroes before, but because they had seen someone who looked almost identical. Alec's assumption that they were Transgenics might not be right, but there was definitely something very strange in the whole deal.

As the image on screen changed again to show a woman, they both gasped. Max's doubts about them being Transgenics fled as she saw the woman staring back at her, almost identical in features to herself, only her hair was different.

# # #

Life in Terminal City was settling into a routine. Max and Alec would spend most of the day at the Command Center dealing with all sorts of minutiae that they had never dreamed of before. Alec had lists of the manpower available within their City and had started work gangs, each given a specific set of tasks to work on, whether it was renovation and conversion of buildings to make them into 'homes' or clearing streets to make them look better but also ridding the area of as much of the unhealthy trash as they could, others cleared sewers so the old drainage networks would begin to work again. He had teams working on connecting more buildings to the electricity and water systems they had set up.

The whole of Terminal City was becoming habitable slowly. There was a nagging doubt at the back of Alec's mind that all that meant was someone would come and take it away from them; angry that they'd made something out of the nothing. And that was the truth of it. Everything, except their food and medical supplies, came from what had been abandoned within Terminal City itself. They had scavenged and repurposed everything they could as they reclaimed more of the area. They'd gradually spread themselves out into more of the buildings, which had had the added bonus of reducing the amount of conflict. There weren't the clear divisions between the higher X series and the other Transgenics, but some of the more extreme-minded X5s had claimed an area for themselves, calling themselves 'The Elite'. Although not particularly happy with the situation, Alec had left it for the time being. He knew the reputations of enough of the individuals involved to know that it didn't really matter what they did, they were going to be trouble. At least this way that trouble was minimized and, in the meantime, everyone else was learning to get along. He could always cling onto the vaguest hope that perhaps by the time they got round to causing trouble, the rest of the Transgenics would be enough of a unified force to stand together against their prejudice.

He ignored Ben's laughter and turned back to his lists.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps jogging up the steps, saw as Adam appeared beaming. "You look pleased with yourself?" he said by way of greeting.

"Sienna's left me. She's moved down with 'The Elite'. At last!" Adam grinned even wider. "I feel like I can relax at last!"

"Congratulations, man," Alec forced a smile onto his face. On a personal level for his friend, Alec was pleased that Adam was no longer hooked up with the Bitch from Hell but unwittingly she had been a good source of information about what was going on with 'The Elite' as she had moaned and complained that Adam wouldn't go down there, that Adam was spending too much time kowtowing to Max and Alec and their cohorts. As she'd groused continually, she'd also frequently told him how much 'better' it would be down there and what their current plans were.

They'd survive without her information, but maybe he'd need to think of another way round getting that information. The thought had occurred that Luke would probably be able to put together some sort of surveillance type equipment, but he wasn't sure that he was really comfortable with that kind of subterfuge. The whole point was that they were free of Manticore's rule. If they started deliberately spying on their own, they were no better than what they'd left behind. They HAD to be better. Alec couldn't accept the prospect of anything less.

He looked up, snapping his attention back to Adam as soon as he realized that his thoughts had begun to drift again. It never used to be this hard to concentrate. Ben was hanging around behind Adam's shoulder and so Alec dipped his eyes to focus on Adam's chin rather than his face and hoped that would keep Ben out of his sight.

"So the raid tonight?" Adam said and Alec gave a jerky nod, rifling through the papers beside him before coming up with a map and a list of what supplies they needed to focus on retrieving. "Are you coming with us?"

"Yeah, I'm good for that," Alec said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could.

"Let me check the stitches in your leg first and then I'll be the judge of that," Adam replied.

There was a moment's hesitation where Alec almost refused angrily, but instead he took a deep breath and then calmly said, "It's all good, Max and Joshua have both checked it out." He tried to add a little sass to his words, "If you don't believe me, go ask them." It was an almost truth. They had both checked it out, but that had been the day after it had happened. He hadn't let anyone near it since.

Adam's eyes narrowed and for a moment Alec thought he was going to challenge him on that. Then he conceded with a shrug, just saying, "Okay" and let the matter drop.

Alec had checked it himself and it was fine, not good. It was healing, but not as quickly as it should, another sign that he hadn't recovered yet from the effects of the lack of food and the fact that he was spending too much time walking down to where the gangs were working, lending a hand at times, giving encouragement and praise at others. He wondered whether he should talk to Max again. Maybe if he boosted his calorie intake further, back to normal Manticore levels, maybe his body would fall back into its proper cycle. He couldn't be sure though. There had been plenty of other Transgenics whose bodies had just stopped healing.

He looked up at the sound of Max coming up the stairs, his gaze seeking out hers. He didn't know what was happening between them, but all work had stopped on 'her room' and she seemed more than content to sleep in his bed each night. He wasn't sure what it meant. It wasn't like they were lovers, just bedmates, but she did seem to like to curl into him. She seemed a lot more tactile in general of late. The thought occurred that maybe she wanted to be lovers, but he looked at her as she crossed and pulled out the chair between him and Adam and despite the smile she gave him, he didn't think there was anything more than familiarity and a sort of tentative friendship in it. She wouldn't want someone like him; couldn't possibly want him. That was an even crazier thought than if he'd been considering following any of Ben's suggestions.

# # #

Obsidian sat on the roof top, eyes trained on the street below, wishing it didn't rain so much in Seattle. He was fed up of so many nights spent wet and waiting for the bad guys. Apart from anything else, it was boring. He let his feet swing back and forth and let out a bored huff of air. He checked his surroundings, he was still alone.

There was the faintest sound of footsteps in the street below. He leaned forward, checking everything. Even with his enhanced sight, it took a moment to register the figure in black that was hiding in the alley. He looked up and down the street for any signs of passersby. No one yet. He tried to judge the time. It was a bit of a guess but he didn't think it would be too long before people would start to leave the movie theater a little further down the street and then the guy below would pick out his victims.

Eyeing where the guy was hidden, Obsidian moved back from the edge and let himself down the far side of the building he'd been sitting on. He sneaked round to the other end of the alley in which the mugger was hidden and silently slipped in behind him to wait.

Heightened senses sucked, Obsidian thought, when you couldn't turn them off. He stood concealed behind a foul-smelling garbage bin. He was grateful when he picked up the sound of voices in the main street and then heard the guy he was following shuffle closer to the end of the alley, silhouetting himself for Obsidian's eyes in the glow of the street light beyond.

The man moved out grabbing hold of a passing woman and holding a knife to her neck as he demanded money and jewelry from her and her companion. Obsidian was a step or two behind him and before he had time to do more than make his threat, his knife was clattering across the street and Obsidian was pulling him away from the girl, already shoving him down to the ground and pulling zip ties from his pocket to secure the mugger against the nearest drainpipe.

The girl was sobbing and her friend had moved closer, throwing an arm over her shoulders to pull her closer in an attempt to offer comfort. Obsidian looked away embarrassed and uncertain. "Ummm, you should call the police and let them come and get him, give them a statement and stuff," he said awkwardly. "Then get yourselves home safely."

The sobbing girl turned from her friend and threw herself at Obsidian, who staggered backward at the unexpected onslaught. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Nightwalker. . ." she sobbed against his chest.

"Not Nightwalker," he said, trying to extricate himself from her tenacious grip. "Obsidian, Dark Obsidian, that's my name. Nightwalker was something the press made up. I've got to go." He pushed her away as firmly as he could without hurting her, shoving her back towards her friend before running back into the darkness of the alleyway and vanishing around the corner quickly.

# # #

Max sat watching the TV quietly, Alec was still sleeping and Joshua had gone out. Alec had arrived back later than she'd expected from the raid, dragging himself exhaustedly up the stairs. He'd barely had enough energy to shed his shoes and outer clothes before collapsing into the bed. Not that he'd fallen straight to sleep as she'd expected, he'd been tense and even during the night his sleep had been unsettled before he'd finally fallen deeply and, she hoped, dreamlessly asleep and she'd felt the tension leave him.

She'd fallen back to sleep as well and hadn't been awake long, but she wasn't going to head up to Command Center until she'd had a chance to check him over properly; including the wound on his leg. She'd cautiously spoken to Adam about whether they could be affected by slower healing than Transgenics usually had. He'd admitted that it was another possible side effect; she'd got the feeling though that he hadn't told her everything he knew about it.

The news came on, more reports on the fights of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four. She watched again, wondering why it affected Alec so deeply. She could see the injustice of it, see the potential for parallels between those 'superheroes' and the Transgenics around her, but the imbalance didn't surprise her any more than the persistent intolerance towards her kind surprised her. She'd been in the world for long enough to know that they weren't the only people being treated unfairly, they weren't the only 'minority' in need of justice in a system that if given the choice didn't even want to acknowledge their existence. She had come to the conclusion a long time ago that it was just a fact of life. She wasn't sure why Alec didn't see it that way.

The report changed to local news and how three muggers, thought to possibly be part of a gang who planned together but then worked as individuals had all been caught the previous night and when the police arrived the attackers had already been zip tied to downpipes or other immovable street furnishings ready for collection. "At first," the newscaster explained, "it was assumed that the three incidents were the work of the Nightwalker, however, police suspect that is now not the case and that in fact 'Nightwalker' is not one person at all, but a group of vigilantes patrolling our streets, wreaking their own form of vengeance. At least one of last night's vigilantes told people at the scene that his name was 'Dark Obsidian', which suggests he is someone the police were not aware of before. Police say given the distance between the three incidents last night, despite the similarity in appearance of all three vigilantes, it would be almost impossible for a single person to have been involved in all three."

"This raises again the concern of just who is out on our streets at night. Police are asking witnesses and anyone with any other information to come forward and assist in their investigations. The police chief makes the point that do we really want these renegades taking the law into their own hands on our streets? Do we want this kind of reckless lawlessness to go on around our children?"

"We have this footage from the scene of the first of last night's crimes at which our reporter was able to interview one of the people involved in the incident."

The image onscreen changed to that of two women and a reporter. "So you both witnessed what happened here last night?" the reporter began.

"Yes, this guy came out of the alley over there and grabbed me around the neck and then threatened me with a knife." As she spoke the woman rubbed at her neck, where a thin red line could still be seen, "He demanded our money and any jewelry that we'd got. Then before he could do anything else, a second guy appeared behind him. I didn't see him at first, but there was a jolt and then the knife fell away and before I really knew what was happening, he had the first guy, my attacker, on the floor and was dragging him to the downpipe and using zip ties to keep him in place. I was so thankful. I'm not sure that even if we'd handed over our money that I'd have got away unharmed without Obsidian."

"Obsidian? So the vigilante quite clearly said that he wasn't the Nightwalker?" the reporter pressed.

"He said Nightwalker wasn't his name, it was just something the press had made up," she said.

The reporter turned away from her as if dismissing anything else she might say and continued speaking, "So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, categorical proof that Nightwalker is not working alone. He is in fact part of a group. These people have decided that they wish to stalk our streets at night and mete out their own form of justice, deciding for themselves who is in the right."

The woman behind him frowned and tried to interrupt him, "That's not true. All he did was disarm and then tie up my attacker. He didn't cause any harm to him."

The man ignored her and began to walk away, still talking into his microphone, "Police urge anyone with information that might lead to the arrest of this gang of vigilantes before any further disruption and threat to the lives of ordinary Seattle citizens can occur. For your own protection, call the number on screen now with anything that might help the police in their search for real justice for our community. And now I'll hand you back to the studio."

Max sighed, relieved that Alec had slept through such a biased and unjust news report because she was sure it would only have angered him more if he'd seen it. Whoever this Obsidian was, and she wasn't convinced that it was more than one person, he was taking out the criminal element of the city. The only people who'd wound up seriously hurt or dead were armed and dangerous to the public. Wherever he could, it appeared that Obsidian or Nightwalker or both if it really was two people subdued and restrained the criminals and then left them for the police. She flicked the TV off, figuring that was the problem - he was making too much work for the police and judicial system by actually catching the criminals and he was making them look bad.

She wondered how much longer he would keep bothering to try and make a positive difference.

# # #

Pain.

The world was made of pain.

Or maybe that wasn't true. Maybe it was only his world that was made of pain. His world with the cold voice that was sharp like a knife.

He was X5 or so the voice had told him. X5s were supposed to be strong. X5s were supposed to be leaders. X5s were superior.

This wasn't what it meant to be superior.

His world was an empty, dark space, with only him and the voice and the machines that kept him alive while he did the things they sent him to do. The world was chill, meaningless. The only point to existence was to fill his goals, to do what they told him to do.

Existence was the fight to survive, but he was tired. He didn't want to fight anymore. He didn't want to live anymore.

"So," the voice was close. "What has 494 been doing this time?"

"He's a vigilante in Seattle. He tracks criminals and then he overcomes them and ties them up to leave them for the police."

"A vigilante, you say. Tell me more."

"He's been in the news reports. It's making him angry, they're calling him the Nightwalker. He wants them to call him Dark Obsidian."

"And what does this Nightwalker do when he's playing at being a vigilante?" he could hear the sneer in the voice.

He didn't hesitate to begin to retell exactly what he had seen 494 doing.

# # #

Steve found it baffling that Tony could own a plane, or more than one in all likelihood, as well as all the other cars and properties and . . . . everything really, that he owned. Billionaire; it was a concept that he struggled still to comprehend. Foolish really, it wasn't like Howard hadn't been disproportionately wealthy compared to anyone else Steve had known back in the day and Tony had clearly built the Stark empire even further.

He didn't have a problem with wealth, and, in the time he'd come to know Tony, he knew that the other man did a lot of good with his money as well as being somewhat frivolous with both gifts for friends and in terms of wanting something for himself and deciding immediately to arrange for whatever his latest fancy was.

But on mornings like the latest one, where Tony would rise from bed full of purpose and drive and suddenly track down Steve and insist that he drop everything to accompany him to . . . whatever his latest idea was, Steve felt at a complete loss. Sitting in the plane now, Steve had no idea where they were going or why and he only hoped it wasn't something that was going to draw Fury's unwanted attention.

"Tony, where are we going?"

"Seattle," he said simply. "I'm fed up of waiting for something to happen, some solution to the mess out there so we're going to do something about it."

"Seattle? What exactly are we going to do?"

"Dunno yet. Any ideas?"

Steve rubbed a hand over his face and tried to push away the negative thoughts that they were rushing into something without a plan and it was all going to backfire horrendously. He thought of how well they did on missions, on defending the city or the country when they were under attack and tried to believe that this was going to be the same.

"Tony, we can't make things worse you know."

"I know. So get thinking, Cap - ha! Get your thinking cap on, Cap!" He quirked an eyebrow at the joke and Steve just shook his head.

# # #

As the aircraft approached Seattle, Tony moved up to the cockpit and gave the pilot a few directions before moving back up to join Steve and picking up a briefcase. "Your suit?" Steve asked, nodding at the case.

"Absolutely. Better safe than sorry and on that subject, I took the liberty of packing your shield." He leaned over the side of the chair and pulled out the shield, holding it out for Steve. "I, hmm, I think the word is 'borrowed' or maybe 'liberated' some of the details of Fury's helicarrier designs and the invisibility cloak seemed like quite a good idea and the whole hovery thing they do. Of course, I only borrowed the initial concepts, my versions are far superior so we are currently approaching Seattle in stealth mode and we're going to be able to hover right over the Terminal City compound without detection. There will of course still be a certain degree of risk in getting out and down to the ground, but if you're good with it, I figured we could try sort of rappelling in. If we have to get out in a hurry, I've got the suit and I can lift us out and back up here - I've got a tracker so we can find it without it needing to reveal itself."

"Us? You're going to lift me out?"

"Why not? You've seen me do it before, need I remind you? There was Hawkeye . . . Black Widow. I've even given Bruce a lift, when he was Bruce - not the Other Guy obviously. He tends not to need lifts."

Steve took a deep breath and reminded himself, he'd leaped out of planes with less knowledge about what was on the ground and no one to support him. He could trust Tony, all he needed to do now was ignore Tony's smart ass grin that did absolutely nothing to reassure him the man had any sense of responsibility to anybody's safety and survival. He nodded, "Fine. We'll try it."

It wasn't long before the two of them were rappelling down into the most deserted area of the compound they had been able to identify from their fly past and judging by the lack of welcoming party, they'd been pretty successful. Steve had jumped first and with his feet firmly on the ground, he looked up as Tony descended and he couldn't help but smile as Tony came down with the briefcase clasped awkwardly.

Reaching the ground, Steve had had to help release him from the rope as he'd grumbled about needing to redesign either the way he carried the suit or the rappelling equipment. "Don't laugh at me, Cap. It's alright for you - you've had seventy odd years to perfect your technique!"

Steve shook his head in exasperation, "Do I need to point out that I spent the majority of those seventy years frozen in ice and not practicing aerial descents?"

"Whatever you say, Capsicle," Tony replied, before turning and starting to walk towards what he seemed to think was a more populated area. "Knowing you though, you probably spent all those years planning and mentally rehearsing what you would do in a trillion and one situations!"

Steve smirked at the grousing, pleased that both he and Tony had reached a point where they could share that kind of joke without it being malicious.

"No," Steve smirked, "Actually I was contemplating the meaning of life, the universe and everything." There was a pause before he added, "All those years and I never realized the answer was forty-two."

Tony almost choked on a breath as he registered what Steve had said. "Did you just use a pop culture quip?" he gasped.

Steve laughed, before adding, "We should focus on the job at hand. If there's time when we finish, you can regale me with your tales of derring do and baffle me with your usual quantity of cultural references that I can't even begin to work out the significance of."

"No, no, Cap! I'm impressed. Seriously, color me impressed, really impressed!"

# # #

So Tony figured he'd known they were going to make contact with Terminal City's occupants at some point. Rounding a corner and finding himself at the wrong end of a number of guns wasn't quite what he had in mind. Still it could have been worse . . . maybe. . .

"Don't shoot!" Steve had said. "We come in peace!"

Tony groaned. Steve looked at him in surprise. "Tony?"

"Tell me you didn't just say that. You didn't just say 'we come in peace'!" Tony pleaded.

"But we do come in peace," Steve said, still confused. He looked back to the soldiers and said, "We do," with great sincerity. They looked as confused as Steve at Tony's outburst.

Tony groaned again and said, "Next thing is you'll be saying, 'Take us to your leader'."

"Well . . ." Steve bit his lip, unsure what to say. "I mean we do want that, to see their leader, right? So . . . what's the problem?"

"Nothing, nothing at all clearly. Must just be me, resident genius who has a problem with it. Take no notice. My bad and all that!" He sighed as he took in the baffled expressions on the faces of the Transgenic soldiers before them and said loudly and assertively, "We come in peace. Take us to your leader!" He huffed out a breath in exasperation before adding in a quiet mutter, "And later I'll educate you all, along with my partner here, in why not to come out with tripe like that!"

One of the Transgenics stepped forward and tried to snatch Steve's shield away, as another frisked him down. A brief tug of war took place before a third man cocked his gun and pointed it at Tony's head. "Your choice . . . you hand it over or he gets it?" Quietly Steve surrendered the shield and watched as the gun was removed from Tony's temple.

The same man then made to take Tony's briefcase. "Hands off, Buster!" Tony snapped. "You hear me saying 'Avon's calling?'"

"Hand it over!" the man said firmly.

"Can't!" Tony snapped back, holding the briefcase and jiggling the cuffs that kept it locked to his own wrist.

"Fine, you can keep it for the minute, but trust me, on the way to our destination, you think about how much you like that hand because I'm taking the case," he said simply.

"This way. Move!" said another of the Transgenics, waving in the direction of a dismal looking alley with his gun, as the others moved to surround Steve and Tony. Once the two of them began to move in the indicated direction, he spoke again, this time to one of the men with him. "Eno, go fetch Max."

The other man nodded and said, "Will you be in -?" not bothering to finish the sentence but instead making a gesture further down the alley.

"Yes," was all the reply the man giving orders gave before the soldier in question set off running back in the direction they'd come.

Tony frowned, concern tweaking at the fact that they clearly weren't going to be 'taken to any leader' but rather it appeared they were going to be taken to a disgustingly filthy disused area of Terminal City and possibly the leaders would be brought to them. He doubted very much that it boded well for their immediate future. He consoled himself that for the minute at least, Steve's shield was still within relatively easy reach and he had his suitcase and even if they took it from him, he still had his arm bracelets and could remotely trigger it and it would find him. They weren't defenseless and he wasn't in any real degree of danger yet.

He knew what the problem was. There were too many things reminding him of Afghanistan, of being outnumbered and defenseless in front of bland faced strangers. He glanced down making sure that, as he already knew, the arc reactor couldn't even be seen in outline. These people clearly didn't know how dangerous Steve could be with his shield or they'd have sent it off with the guy who'd just left. And they had no idea of just what lurked in the suitcase. Everything was going to be fine and if it wasn't he also had the jet still hanging over Terminal City ready to get them out.

This wasn't a stupid plan at all. He hadn't just walked them into the lion's den, because he wasn't stupid. He was a genius; he had the test scores to prove it!