Media: Fic
Title: Solar Winds (Avatar: The Last Airbender Fusion, 53/?)
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo, swearing, violence.
Spoilers: None for either series that I am aware of.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: ~14,000
Summary: When a usurper sets eyes on the Fire Nation throne, Avatar Kurt and friends find themselves on the run with the deposed Prince Blaine in a country gone mad. Can they escape Lady Sylvester's wrath? Or will her minions snuff them out for good? Fusion fic!
Author's Note: Hee-hee… I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for ages. While Kurt and Blaine have been embroiled in their web of intrigue and action, someone else has been having their own adventure, completely separate from the gang and yet… connected in ways you might not expect. ;) It's a wild ride, and I hope you enjoy it!
CHAPTER 53 – Dragon Hawks, Part 1
The Tale of Wes and David
Blaine can't stop smiling.
He actually kind of wishes he could. His mouth is getting a little sore from beaming so widely for so long. But his dimmer seems to be broken, and his off switch has vanished entirely. There is no turning down his brilliance. He will go outside and tell the sun to take the day off and climb up into the sky and shine in its place. His friends are alive.
His friends are alive.
He can't let go of them. They're soggy and a little dirty, but they're warm and firm and real and he doesn't want to forget that, even for a second. He doesn't want them to slip through his fingers again. For Agni's sake, it shouldn't be possible to smile this brightly and cry at the same time, but it's all rushing into him and washing over him at once and he just can't take it. How much he has missed them, how impossibly happy he is that they're okay, how much, how very, very much he loves them and he just has a lot of feelings, okay?
They're not letting go, either. They're practically squeezing the breath out of him, but Blaine doesn't care. They're not afraid of hurting him or breaking him—they've seen him rise and fall and rise again more times than any of them can count. They know how tough he is. They know he can take it.
Blaine is so lost in the moment that he practically forgets there are other people in the room. Pavarotti, of all people, reminds him by landing on his shoulder and cawing. "Pav!" he says happily, breaking the hug at last to scratch his bird behind the ears. "I missed you too, buddy."
"I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come up for air," Kurt says lightly.
"Oh!" Blaine says. "Oh, guys, you should… you don't even know. I should tell you… introductions! I need to introduce you… I need to introduce you…"
His brain seems to get stuck on who needs to meet who first, and he has a momentary bout of vertigo.
"Whoa!" David says, holding out an arm to keep him upright. "Steady there, Blaine."
"Perhaps we should all go sit down," Wes suggests. "You're looking a little lightheaded."
"I feel fine," Blaine says emphatically. "I feel fantastic. I feel amazing. I feel…" The world tilts. "…a little dizzy, okay, yeah, let's go sit down."
A minute and a few introductions later, and they are all gathered around the fire in the living room. Pavarotti perches on the mantle, de-ruffling his feathers and putting his wings back in order. Blaine sits as close to Wes and David as he can without physically being in their laps (as that would be weird).
"It's very lovely to meet you all," Wes says. "And thank you for looking after Blaine while we were… indisposed."
"Oh, he was no trouble," Kurt says, looking to Blaine.
"So, is this who you were sneaking out to meet?" David says, assessing Kurt carefully.
"…yeah," Blaine says, blushing a bit. "He was… we were…"
"You sly dog!" David says, patting him on the back. "Dating the Avatar."
"You always did aim high," Wes says with a fiendish grin.
"Shut up," Blaine says, blushing even deeper. "We weren't… dating. I was his firebending teacher. Well, I still am. Except… now, we are dating. Well, I mean, we haven't gone on any dates yet, but we're… we are… Kurt, are we dating?" he asks, looking honestly unsure.
Kurt smiles patiently and pats him on the arm. "Yes, dear, we're dating."
"Good," Blaine says, sounding relieved.
"So, these are your dead friends?" Finn asks.
"Oh, yeah! Yes! I mean… they're clearly not dead, but they're the same guys. They're my best friends," Blaine says. He's still having a little trouble seeing past the neon-bright FEELINGS that are streaking across his brainscape.
"Awww, you adorable little curly-haired creampuff!" David says, fondly ruffling Blaine's hair. The Prince is moderately impressed—there was shockingly little decorum in that gesture.
"So… why are they not dead?" Finn asks. "Well, I mean… how are they not dead? Or maybe… why did you think they were dead when they're not?"
"You thought we were dead?" Wes asks quietly.
"Yeah…" Blaine replies. "I mean… the last time I saw you, you were fighting, and then the people you were fighting just showed up, and… and she said you died." He closes his eyes, remembering Santana's vicious smirk as she taunted him. "She said you screamed the whole time."
Wes looks a little uneasy. David scratches his neck.
"So… what happened?" Blaine asks.
The two share a significant look.
Wes speaks first.
"We'd better start from the beginning. We were fighting the assassins, and doing a bang-up job, if I do say so myself. We had them on the run, and then, we made a crucial tactical error…"
David agilely flips over a flying dumpster as it sails past him, slamming through a wall and caving in the front of a butcher's shop. Puck charges after him, snorting and huffing like a sexually frustrated bull. Wes loops his fire whips into hoops, and rolls them along the ground at Santana, chasing her out of the alleyway by continually guiding them and changing their direction. The wheels chase her up an awning, where she uses her whip to snap them apart.
"Stand down," Wes orders. "Or we'll take you down."
"We will not ask again," David growls.
"Mercy makes me puke," Puck spits.
"All this talk of going down is getting me all hot and bothered," Santana says. "I hope you boys plan to follow through on all your talk, or I'm gonna be very disappointed."
Puck charges again. David's swiftness and agility enable him to get the upper hand on the slightly tired assassin, slipping in beside a poorly-placed punch and landing several devastating blows, blasting bits of his armor clean off. He tries to finish Puck with a fireblast to his head, but a lucky flinch results in Puck simply losing a large part of his Mohawk. The attack sends him stumbling backward and ends with him on his back.
The dark-skinned firebender leaps towards him, aiming to finish him off, when a whip wraps around his ankle and jerks him aside, landing him in a long, moose-drawn cart full of rugs. Santana smiles in a momentary victory, but her smile vanishes when she feels Wes land on the awning behind her, and only by diving forward does she miss getting her own head cooked. A large section of her hair is caught in the blast, and if she hadn't landed in a roll, it'd probably still be burning.
Unfortunately, she's landed in the same cart as David, who looks none-too-pleased about being sidelined by her. She changes the grip on her whip, shortening it slightly so she can lash it faster and push him back. Once again, however, she's forgotten about Wes, who runs along the wall of the building and jumps off onto the cart behind her.
She's surrounded.
Santana looks at Wes. She turns to look at David.
She looks past David.
Then she smiles. "Bye-bye!" she coos, jumping off the cart.
Before they can react, Puck slams his fist down on the end of the cart, pitching it upwards and catapulting Wes and David high, high, high into the sky, and off into the distance.
"Holy crap," Blaine says.
"Those were more or less my feelings on the subject," Wes nods.
"Always watch your footing," David says sagely. "Anyway, the lady assassin was half-right. There was plenty of screaming."
"Fortunately, however, there was no dying," Wes smiles.
"How did you survive?" Blaine asks eagerly.
Wes and David share a significant look. "Well… umm…" David says uneasily. "Here's exactly what happened…"
"Well, this is a predicament," says David, crossing his arms thoughtfully as he flies through the air.
"How will we get out of this one?" asks Wes, calm as an underground lake.
"Only one thing to do!" shouts David bravely.
Wes and David stretch out their arms and legs, becoming human rockets and soaring through the glowing, red sky with trails of fire streaming off of them. They sweep down into the city and begin saving orphan children from burning buildings…
David's narration trails to a halt as everyone in the room looks at him completely unimpressed. Including and especially Wes.
"Really, David?" he asks, shaking his head. "That's the best you could come up with?"
"You are so full of shit," Blaine says flatly.
"Well," David says, crossing his arms. "That is more believable than what actually happened."
"Not by much!" Wes says.
"Just… tell us the truth," Kurt says diplomatically. "You'd be surprised at what we can believe."
"Well, if you insist," Wes says. "As we flew, our lives flashed before our eyes. We knew there was no way we would survive the fall, so we began the tearful, last-minute confessions of doomed men…"
"Your cooking is terrible!" Wes cries. He and David cling tightly to one another as they fly upwards.
"I lied. You look awful with facial hair!" David shouts miserably.
"Your dancing is an embarrassment!" Wes bemoans.
"I have the hots for your sister. I have for years! Ye Gods, the things I would do to her…" David weeps.
"You son of a badgermole's breakfast!" Wes sobs. "I'll kill you!"
At this point, they reach the peak of their arc and begin their descent, falling towards the Fire Nation countryside well outside of the city limits. It's the trip down that truly drives the point home. This is it.
"I'm proud to call myself your friend," Wes says sincerely.
"It has been an honor to serve by your side, Wesley," David nods.
Those would have been the perfect final words. Unfortunately, their imminent demise is taking its sweet time in getting to them. They went really, really high.
So high, in fact, that they are able to spot something between themselves and the ground.
"What is that?" David shouts, pointing at a distant white speck below them.
"I don't know!" Wes shouts back. "Let's go for it!"
Still holding onto each other, the two firebenders kick their legs out and send out strong fire streams to their sides, pushing themselves through the air towards the odd, unidentifiable thing below them. The closer they get, the more they can make out—it's a large… white… fuzzy… flying…
"Bison?" Wes barks. "What in Agni's name is an air bison doing—?"
"WHO CARES?" David shouts. "WE'RE LANDING ON IT!"
They try desperately to rocket themselves so their trajectory lines up with the bison. As they get closer, certain things become clearer. Things like…
There are people on that thing.
"LOOK OOOOUUUUUUUT!" Wes warns.
The poor blonde girl has all of two seconds before—
"HOLD UP!" Artie shouts suddenly.
The narration stops in a screech as everyone stares at Artie.
"Yes?" Wes asks.
"A flying bison?" Artie asks. "With a blonde girl riding it?"
"I told you no one would believe it," David says sourly.
Artie holds up a hand to silence the dissenter. "Did this flying bison also happen to have a guy dressed in all black, with medium-long hair and a face that just begs for a fist?" he presses.
David gives him a powerful fish-eye. "…yes, actually," he says warily. "How on earth did you know that?"
"It's Brittany! And friggin' Jesse St. James!" the earthbender says.
Rachel gasps.
"You know those people?" Wes asks.
Mercedes makes a so-so gesture with her hand. "We're not exactly friends, but we've crossed paths."
"Jesse…" Rachel sighs sadly.
"Well, I'm glad to know you aren't friends with them," Wes says simply. "They aren't terribly nice people. Well, Jesse isn't. Brittany, we didn't really get to know much…"
—all of two seconds before Wes and David make impact. She does the best she can to throw up a shield of air to block their descent, but shemostly just succeeds in creating a windy cushion to slow their fall. It doesn't stop them, however; the two slam into her, and despite their best efforts, they are unable to prevent her from flying off the bison and into the trees below.
"Oh, no…" Wes whispers as he watches her fall.
"What the FUCK?" Jesse shouts, pivoting around from the bison's head at the cacophony. "What—who are—you idiots! You just… you just…"
"We didn't mean to!" David cries, his eyes suddenly tearing up. "I am so, so sorry, I, I didn't, we were trying to—"
"We were falling, you see," Wes explains, "and just trying to find somewhere to land that wouldn't kill us."
David jumps back in, sniffling. "Arguably, we succeeded. If… only momentarily."
"Very momentarily," the male airbender growls.
And then his staff is off his back and in his hand, and he is cutting slices into the air between them that they only barely manage to sidestep.
"Now, hold on a second!" Wes says. "We really don't need this to end in violence—if you would just be so kind as to take us a little closer to the ground—"
Jesse is understandably a little upset, and clearly not of the peace-loving variety of airbenders. Thus a… somewhat intense battle commences, with Wes and David mostly doing their best to not-die. Fighting back with firebending is a bit difficult when you're riding on the back of a flying creature that is of indeterminate flammability and very fluffy. They have to do their best to keep their blasts small and make sure they are not aimed too low. Despite the limitation, Wes keeps up admirably.
David, however, lags just a bit. His eyes are watering and his nose is clogged and his throat is swollen, and yet, none of these are from any kind of remorse. Sure, he feels bad about possibly sending a young woman to her doom, but he didn't really know her. He shouldn't be crying about it…
"Get off!" Jesse shouts, trying to palm-gust them away.
"We will!" Wes says. "We already told you—"
"Just as soon as you… as you…" David starts. He doesn't finish, however, because his mouth and nose are suddenly occupied with a much more urgent matter. "Ah… AH…"
"David?" Wes asks, a little worried.
"ACHOO!" David answers.
His sneeze results in an accidental burst of flame that sets the beast's tail alight.
"Oh SHIIIII—" Jesse shouts.
The bison roars in panic and plummets towards the ground, banking wildly from side-to-side as if he's trying to shake the fire off. Said fire remains stubbornly attached—the firebenders, however, are having less luck. Wes and David cling to the beast's fur for dear life, as does Jesse. The difference between them being that Jesse is still trying to blast them off every time he gets a free moment.
"Just… let… go!" he shouts. "You're wasting valuable time! Heaven only knows how long it's going to take me to find her. Do you know what's going to happen to me if I'm late?"
"Late? For what?" David asks through his allergic haze. It is at this point that he notices the bison is carrying some kind of close-topped container with its six legs. "What are you talking abah… ah… ah…"
"Once again, I would just like to apologize on behalf of the both of us and assure you that if you will just get a little closer to the ground, or at least find something soft—" Wes starts.
"ATCHISSHOO!" David sneezes again, accidentally blowing himself off of the bison. Wes panics and reaches out to grab him, resulting in him hanging from the bison with one hand and holding David with the other.
Suddenly, the bison pivots in mid-air, and Jesse spots something that makes him smile. "…soft, you say?" he asks. "Well, that looks soft enough for me."
Wes looks up to see them rapidly approaching an old, rickety-looking barn.
"That is your definition of soft?" he shouts.
Sadly, he is in no position to debate with the airbender, who slams his staff on Wes's hand just as they pass over the barn.
And then Wes and David are falling and screaming, again. The two continue screaming right up until the point where they smash right through the barn's roof, crash through the upper hayloft, bounce off some bales of hay and land in a painful, tumbling heap on the floor.
Wes lifts his head up weakly, his entire body possessed with an urgent thought which he simply must voice. Turning his gaze to the heavens, Wesley Montgomery opens his mouth and issues a statement to the universe…
"…ow."
"S… seconded…" David chokes.
"And then, thankfully, we passed out," David finishes.
The gang winces in sympathy. Well, all except Rachel, who is looking at them completely aghast.
"I can't believe Jesse would do such a thing," she says, shocked.
"Why is that?" Wes asks.
"He always seemed so sweet," Rachel says quietly, looking miserable. "I just… the real him… it's so far removed from the way he acted around me."
"It is called 'acting' for a reason," David says. "You've known this guy for a long tim—"
"Forget Jesse St. Jerk," Finn says. "What happened next?"
Rachel gives him a glare.
"What?" Finn says, somewhat sheepishly. "This is a cool story. I want to know!"
Wes smiles. "Thank you for that lovely compliment!" He clears his throat. "As for you, Miss Berry… I hate to break your heart further, but that's hardly the worst thing Jesse does. But… we will get to that later. In the meantime, let us continue."
David nods and picks up the narration. "We were down for quite a while. I vaguely remember hearing some distant, charmingly rube-esque grumbling before someone started dragging me somewhere."
"I remember being poked with a stick and being just aware enough to protest the action with a groan," Wes adds, "but I wasn't strong enough to do more than that, and soon, I was dragged off as well. The next time I awoke…"
The sun is very insistent.
Try as he might to shield against its relentless assault on his retinas, it will not be denied. So despite his aches and pain, Wes surrenders himself to the waking world and opens his eyes.
Several crucial observations are made in quick succession.
#1. He is in a room he doesn't recognize.
#2. He has been divested of his armor and, apparently, his shirt. In place of them are quite a few bandages.
And perhaps most alarmingly of all, #3. He is strapped to the bed.
Oh, this is just every kind of horrible.
He tries in vain to wiggle his way free of the leather (leather!) straps keeping him down, but apparently, his body isn't quite up to the task and politely informs him of such with a jolt of pain through his brain to his very soul. He ceases his struggles and tries desperately to remember how he got here.
There was… it was… the riots… and then… they were falling… and—
"David!" Wes says, trying to turn his head to look at the room around him. "David! Are you here? Are you alright? Dav—ahhh, ow…" he hisses, apparently pulling something a little harder than he should.
"Oh, heyyyyyy!" a familiar, slightly slurred voice greets him. "Buddy! You're awake. Welcome back!"
Wes turns his head as far as he can to the side to see David, in a familiar position to his own, but seeming much more… relaxed about it.
"Are you alright?" Wes asks. "What happened? Where are we, what is—"
"Slow your roll, my friend," David says calmly. "Slowwww your rolllll… one question at a time."
Wes rolls his eyes. Slowly. "Fine. Are you alright?"
"I'm fantastic!" David pipes.
"Marvelous. What happened?"
"We fell from the sky," David says. He starts whistling high, slowly lowering his pitch, ending a crashing sound to punctuate the point. "Into someone's barn."
"And… should I assume that we are now in this person's house?" Wes asks.
David nods. "Indeed, you should."
"Lovely. Why are we strapped down?" Wes asks.
"Because," David says seriously. "We could be dangerous. They don't know yet."
Wes stares deep into his friend, trying to see into his strange mind. "Why are you so calm about this? Are…" He squints. "Are you high?"
"I am baked, my friend!" David grins giddily.
Wes is flabbergasted. "What… how… why…"
"Apparently," David says, "I spent much of the first day sneezing and coughing, even while somewhat less-than-conscious. So the nice old lady gave me some homemade cold remedy. I've got to tell you—that stuff is awesome."
"I imagine so," Wes sighs. "Well… crap. Now what do we do?"
"Oh!" David says suddenly. "They wanted to talk to you. They said I was too loopy to give a straight answer, but you, they're only too eager to intro… interrogrize…"
"Interrogate?"
"That's the one!"
"Alright then," Wes sighs. "Let's get this over with. Hello!" he shouts. "Is anyone here? I need to talk with—"
"PIPE DOWN, SONNY!" a cranky old voice calls out. "I'm a'comin!"
"That's the old lady!" David says excitedly. "You should ask her for some medicine."
"I'll pass," Wes mumbles miserably. "At least one of us should be sober for this…"
"Well, well, well…" the voice says, now much closer. Wes looks up to see that he is now being held at the business end of some kind of… broom-spear. "Whut have we hee-yer?" says a rather ancient, seemingly ill-tempered woman. "A couple o' barn-crashers!"
"Ma'am," Wes says calmly. "I'm… very sorry about your barn. If you will kindly put away your weapon—"
"I don't put away my nuthin' for nobody!" she growls, brandishing the broom-spear and pushing it dangerously close to Wes's delicate flesh. "Now, I'm gonna ask ye some questions, and yer gonna answer 'em. Yew tell me the truth, ye hear? If yer lyin', I'll gut ye where ye lay!"
Well, there's not much arguing with that. Wes nods. "Very well."
"Who are ye?"
"My name is Wesley Montgomery."
"Where're ye from?"
"I live in the Capital."
"What's yer job?"
Wes closes his eyes and thinks. It's hard to quantify his job, exactly. "I work for the Fire Lord."
"I knew it!" the woman shouts. "I know'd ye was a soldier from the second I lain eyes on that armor o' yers."
"Is… that a good thing?" Wes asks.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedly-dee-dee, there they are a-standing in a—"
"Quiet, yew!" she growls, aiming the spear at David.
"David!" Wes says intently. "This is no time for a singalong!"
"It is always time for a singalong," David pouts. He quiets down, however.
"Who's he?" she asks. "Boy's so hopped up on my medicine, he told me he was a platypus."
"Perry is my name!" David announces. "I fight evil, and wear a nice hat."
Wes looks at his friend, mortified. What is in this woman's cold remedy? "His name is David Thompson. He is also a soldier of the Fire Lord."
"Alright then. Now, fer the hundred thousand gold piece question—what were yew doin' crashin' through the roof of my barn?" she asks.
Wes closes his eyes again. He wonders if it is even possible to explain everything that has happened over the past… over the past… how long has he been out? Whatever. It doesn't matter. The world was a dangerous, frightening place when last he left it, and he is in a very vulnerable position. Perhaps he should keep a few things to himself… engage in a little strategic truth-telling.
"We were battling with an airbender, when he threw us off over your barn. Gravity is rather indiscriminate, thus it had no choice but to pull us down where we were. I'm very sorry about the damage," Wes says simply. "And I thank you for your… err… hospitality."
The woman glares at him. "Fightin' airbenders? Boy, you really expect me to believe that?"
Wes gulps. It is a little ridiculous. But it's the truth! He doesn't really know how—
"No, not really," David says simply. "Most people wouldn't even know about the secret airbender wars."
Horrified brown eyes turn towards David as Wes openly gapes at his incredibly high friend-who-is-about-to-get-them-both-killed.
The woman, however, seems oddly intrigued. "The secret airbender what now?"
"Oh, yes," David says casually. "They've been going on for years now. The airbenders are very crafty. They're always trying to sneak around and cause trouble. But the Fire Lord knows their tricks!" David grins smugly. "He's onto them. That's why he sent us. We're part of a top-secret airbender-fighting unit!"
Wes only grows more horrified by the second, but when he looks at the spear-wielding lady, it seems like she's actually… sort of buying it.
What the fuck.
"Izz'at true?" she growls, turning back to Wes.
He only has a split-second to make the decision. So Wes mentally throws his arms up in surrender and just fucking goes with it. "Yes, ma'am, it is," he says quietly. "Civilians aren't supposed to know about it. We don't want to cause a panic. But… yes, David is telling the truth."
She glares at him, still wary.
"Honestly," Wes says. "What other explanation could there possibly be for two firebenders crashing through your barn roof?"
That does the trick. She thinks about it for just a few seconds more, and then, her eyes soften, and she lowers the spear-tip. "Well, I'll be…" she says quietly. "Ya brave little suns o' guns!" She smiles, and Wes smiles back, more relieved than he can possibly say. "I always knew there was somethin' off about them puffbenders," she spits. "Always floatin' around, free as you please."
"They're quite sneaking," David says, nodding his head. He continues to nod long after he finishes speaking, apparently enjoying the motion.
"Well, I'm darn honored to help out two of the Fire Lord's finest! I'm Agatha," she says, walking over to undo the leather straps that bind them to the bed. Wes breathes a little sigh of relief, and gingerly tries to feel out his injuries. He's quite bruised and battered, but fortunately, he doesn't seem to have broken anything outright.
"We're honored to be staying in such a… fine establishment, Madam Agatha," Wes says, with a winning smile.
"Can I have some more cold medicine?" David asks as she undoes his bindings.
"I think you've had enough," Wes says.
"I'm all out right now, hun," she says sadly.
David looks heartbroken.
Wes sits up and looks out the window. They're on the second story of a house overlooking a small farm. It's daylight out, which suddenly recalls a question.
"Madam, how long have I been unconscious?" Wes asks.
"Couple days," she says gently.
Wes suddenly feels woozy. Two days? That's… there's… what if they…
"You feelin' alright, hun?" Agatha says, steadying him and gently sitting him back down on the bed.
"I just… two days," Wes says. "A lot can happen in two days…"
"You ain't jes blowin' smoke," Agatha says. She turns to the window and apparently spots something. "Well, I'll be. We got company!"
Wes looks over as well, spotting three figures approaching the house on a komodo rhino. One of them is unfamiliar to him.
Two of them, he recognizes all-too-quickly.
The assassins have come to call.
"Puck and Santana, again?" Blaine asks. "Really?"
"Oh, they have names?" Wes asks.
"Everyone has a name," Kurt says. "What were they doing there?"
"And are you sure you're telling this right?" David asks. "I remember things a little differently."
"You were high, buffalo-brain," Wes says. "Of course you remember things differently. You thought you were a platypus! And you almost got us killed…"
"They look like varmints," Agatha spits. "I'll take care of 'em. You sit tight."
Wes's heart is racing. "Wait!" he says. "Umm… when I said our work was top-secret, I meant very, very top-secret. No one, and I mean no one, should know we're here." He looks around carefully, leaning in for a conspiratorial whisper. "Airbender spies could be anywhere."
"Don't ye worry, hun," Agatha whispers back. "Yer secret's safe with me! I'll tell Otis to keep his trap shut, too."
"Thank you!" Wes says sincerely.
She leaves, and he breathes a short sigh of relief. "David. David!" he says, looking over to his friend, who has taken to rubbing his face against his pillow and grinning like a loon.
"What is it?" David asks.
"They're here!" Wes seethes. "The assassins from last night! Or… two nights ago… fuck, I don't know."
"They're here?" David asks, eyes going wide.
"Yes," Wes says, putting his head in his hands. "I just said that. Listen to me when I am speaking, you—"
"REVENNNNGE!" David roars. Before Wes can stop him, he charges towards the open window armed with a cheap-looking vase, which he hurls at the offending assassins with all his might.
"You buffoon!" Wes shouts, pulling David away from the window and slamming him into the bed. "Stop it! You're going to get us both killed!"
"No, I'm going to kill them!" David announces. "I must avenge my honor!"
"We've been so thoroughly beaten that we're technically considered tenderized," Wes growls. "There's no way we can fight them and win in this condition!"
"I CAN DO IT!" David grouses. "I SHALL BATHE IN THEIR BLOOD! AND THEN BATHE IN WATER, BECAUSE BLOOD IS STICKY!"
The inebriated firebender squirms from Wes's grasp and goes for the window again, but Wes grabs him from behind and wrestles him around the room. Eventually, their little wrestling match spills out into the hall, where Wes finds an open closet door and promptly shoves David and himself inside.
"Let me—"
"Shhhh!" Wes hisses. He puts his ear to the door. "I think I can hear them talking…"
"Wait," Mercedes says. "You said there was another one with 'em. Pretty blonde girl?"
"…that is, once again, alarmingly precognitive," David says, giving her a slightly suspicious glare.
"We've met her too," Blaine says. "Quinn Fabray. Captain of Sue's forces, and leader of the Quest for My Head on a Plate."
"…oh," Wes says, wincing slightly. "Well, that really makes me feel like an idiot…"
"What do you mean?" Blaine asks.
Wes sighs. "It'll become clear in time. Anyway, I didn't get much of the conversation—just the general gist that they were hunting the Avatar. Then, they left…"
Wes opens the closet door as he hears them leave. "What is going on in this Nation?" he says quietly.
David marches out of the closet and promptly heads back into their room.
It takes Wes a couple of seconds to realize what's about to happen. He just manages to tackle David onto the bed after the intoxicated firebender hurls another vase at the departing assassins.
"Stop it!" Wes says. "Just… stop! We need to figure out what's going on here. Curb your violent tendencies for five minutes, please!"
David squirms a little more, but eventually relents. "Oh, fine," he sighs. Wes releases him, and he goes back to rubbing his face in the pillows.
Wes sighs and heads downstairs.
When he comes back upstairs, David seems to be feeling a little more lucid.
Wes, however, looks like he's having a waking nightmare.
"Whoa," David says. "What's got your bonnet in a twist?"
The other firebender just shakes his head silently and hands him a poster. David's eyes hungrily scan the page, but upon finishing the meal, his mind feels nauseous. He wishes he'd never seen it.
"Missing and presumed dead," Wes says quietly. "And the Fire Lord is dead, as well."
The poster slips out of David's hands. "We failed. Completely and utterly," David mutters.
They mourn in silence.
Except… they don't. Not really.
Each boy is wracked with grief. In a mere two days, the world they knew has vanished entirely. A government crumbled, a leader was killed, a successor was lost, and all of those were things they were sworn to protect. Even at such a young age, they took the same oath as every other Palace Guard. And they were in a position to uphold that oath at last—to protect Blaine and fulfill their duty, as soldiers and friends.
And they let it slip through their fingers. A split-second mistake and everything crumbled. And perhaps cruelest of all—they survived the incident. They live now to see what their mistake has wrought, while their friend lies forgotten and decomposing and unmourned somewhere far away.
There is no great sobbing fit. No rending of garments, no beating of their chests. They were taught to control their emotions carefully, to conduct themselves in a certain manner. There is simply too much Dalton in their blood for such displays.
And yet, neither can completely maintain their decorum. Neither is truly silent. As the memory of their friend… their little brother replays in their minds—wounded, battered Blaine running for his life, trusting them to keep him safe—they can't help but crumble. So they just sit together in that room, crying tears that the other will politely pretend not to notice, indulging only in the occasional sniffle, which the other will politely pretend he never heard.
"Guys…" Blaine says quietly. "It… it wasn't your fault."
"We were right there," Wes says. "We had them, Blaine, and we made one stupid mistake… and…"
"No," Blaine says. "They weren't the ones who killed my father. Sue was. Even if you had taken them out, my father still would've died. Things might have ended just the same. Or even worse."
"They were the ones who sort-of killed Blaine, though," Finn points out.
Both young gentlemen adopt expressions of utter horror. "They what?" David barks.
Kurt reaches over and smacks Finn. "Shut up!"
"Sorry," Finn winces.
Blaine sighs. "They got me pretty good," he admits quietly. "I… thought it was over for a little bit. It would've been, if it wasn't for Finn and Kurt."
Wes nods his thanks to the two boys in question. "How is that not our fault, Blaine?"
The Prince looks at them sharply. "You didn't hire the assassins. You didn't stage a coup. You didn't throw an entire city into chaos so you could seize power. All of that was Sue Sylvester."
Wes is conflicted for a few moments. Eventually, he nods. "Well, I… can't really find fault in your logic, but…"
"It still feels like we bear some responsibility," David says.
"If you bear anything, I bear it, too," Blaine says. "We'll shoulder the burden of that night together."
Wes's jaw drops. He looks at Blaine, awe and just a hint of pride playing across his eyes. "…you've changed," he says, with a little smile.
"He's all grown up," David says teasingly.
"Oh, you just… shut up," Blaine chuckles.
"Keep going!" Rachel says. "I was just starting to immerse myself in the narrative! Your plight is so moving."
Wes gives her a minor fish-eye, but picks up the narration, nonetheless. "Well, though we were briefly overcome by our mourning, we were men of action. We could not simply sit and stew in sadness…"
"…we have to find him," Wes says, rubbing his eyes.
David looks up at him, resolutely miserable. "Why bother?" he asks flatly.
"Because it's our duty!" Wes shouts.
"It was our duty, under a Fire Lord who no longer exists," David says sadly. "Think about it, man! We've been out for two days. Technically, we've been missing since the riots; our families probably think that we're dead!"
"…we can hawk them," Wes says. "Inform them otherwise; tell them that we will be busy for a while and not to worry."
"I don't know about your mother, but with mine—telling her not to worry is the surest way to ensure that she does," David says. "Wesley… it's over. It's just… done. Do you honestly believe he is even alive?"
"I… I don't know. And I don't care," Wes says firmly. "If he is alive, it is our duty to find him. If he isn't, it's our duty to find him and give him a proper funeral. And if we can't do that…" He breathes out, and closes his eyes. "…then we can avenge him," he finishes quietly.
David's eyes cloud over as he considers this. "…vengeance is far better than nothing at all," he says finally. "My honor demands something…" he sighs.
Wes stands up and holds out his hand. "We've come this far together. We may as well go the rest of the way."
David clasps it, and pulls himself up. "Oh, alright. I'm with you," he smiles. "I just have one question… where, exactly, do you intend start looking?"
"I intend…" Wes starts, before making two important observations.
#1. That sentence does not have any kind of satisfactory ending.
#2. Holy dragonballs, he is tired.
"…Wes? Wes!"
THUD.
"Apparently, I still had a bit of recuperating to do," Wes says.
"Besides which, Wes could've been cutting cartwheels and jumping through fire hoops, and Agatha probably wouldn't have let us out of the house that day," David says. "Other than a brief trip to hawk our families, we spent the next couple of days under her watchful eye and… interesting culinary artistry."
"She made chicken-possum that tasted like neither," Wes shudders. "It was quite a feat."
"After a bit of thought, we decided to track down the assassins as best we could. Our armor was essentially ruined during the fall, but our hosts were nice enough to provide us with the piecemeal-yet-functional ensemble we currently sport," David says.
"They provided us with a lot of things, actually," Wes says. "A knapsack full of supplies and clothes, even an aging ostrich horse named Cleetus. They were far past the point of kindness and hospitality… and they seemed almost sad when we left," he finishes quietly.
"But leave we did. After two days of rest, we headed out of the village that morning, and followed the rhino's tracks as best we could," David says. "A couple of days' travel and sun had worn them down a bit, but they're still komodo rhinos. They're not stealth animals."
"Cleetus was a surprisingly faithful mount," Wes continues. "Quick, steady, and capable. It carried us down the road, where we eventually found a fresh set of tracks heading south. It wasn't a few hours before we arrived in the disreputable little harbor town of Chenling, whereupon it took remarkably little time to find exactly what we were looking for…"
As Wes returns from tying up Cleetus, David runs towards him, waving a piece of paper.
"Look what I've found!" David says with a grin, holding up the reward poster.
"1,000 Gold for the capture of the Avatar and his friends," Wes reads, looking at the various hand-drawn figures. The Avatar himself is the only clear one. The others are mere stick figures with very vague distinguishing features. Strangely enough, they're all named… except one.
"Unknown…" Wes says, looking at the curly-haired stick figure. He glances up at David. "Do you think…?"
"I don't know," David says. "It could be. We don't know for sure."
"Well," Wes says. "I know who to ask…"
They head to the address on the poster, only to find a very lengthy line to get inside.
"What is going on here?" David asks. "I highly doubt that all of these people have an Avatar. Last I recall, they aren't mass-produced."
"Money speaks loudly," Wes says. "Sometimes loud enough to drown out common sense."
With no interest in waiting in line, the two of them attempt to sneak around the building to peek inside. By standing on David's shoulders, Wes is able to look into a narrow window that peeks into the hotel's lobby.
"What do you see?" David asks.
"…a deluge of delinquency," Wes says, watching the line of lunatics parade in front of the three 'judges' only to be shot down and turned away. "Oh, and our two very favorite assassins, along with that girl I saw at the farm."
"A girl, you say?" David asks. "Describer her to me."
"Well, she's blonde," Wes says. "And white.
"What is she wearing?" David asks.
"Some kind of official-looking white armor," Wes says. "There are several other girls with slightly different armor manning the perimeter. I'd wager she's their leader."
"Does she have long legs?" David asks.
"…what?" Wes balks, looking down at him.
"…nevermind," David says. "Carry on. Anything else interesting?"
"Well, there's… wait… wait a second!" Wes whispers.
"What?" David says. "Don't just react to things! Give me some description!"
Wes peers into the room as a blonde girl they do know (or at least, know of) saunters down the stairs. She stops next to Santana and whispers something in her ear. Santana rolls her eyes, grins, and swats her away fondly.
"…the airbender girl!" Wes says. "The one we dismounted in mid-flight! She's here! And she knows the assassins!"
"What?" David says, so shocked that he takes a step back, inadvertently destabilizing their human tower and sending Wes tumbling into the bushes.
"…ow," Wes sighs.
Afraid that their tumble kicked up a little too much noise, they scramble back onto the street and attempt to plot a course of action.
"This is so skewed," Wes says. "The armor those girls were wearing, and the fact that they have komodo rhinos as mounts… it's almost like the assassins have military backing."
"The new Fire Lord has the people who killed the old one on his payroll," David says flatly. "Would that truly be surprising?"
"I suppose you have a point, but still… there are so many things we don't know. And it isn't like we can just walk up and ask. The assassins would recognize us immediately," Wes says.
"And certainly can't tattle on them, since the guards are under the military, which is under the Fire Lord…" David says, suddenly feeling a little odd. "If only we could… could…"
"Could what, man?" Wes sighs. "Finish your sentences!"
"If… we could… ah… AH…"
"Uh-oh," Wes gulps, pulling David into a side-alley and pointing him away from the street.
"ACHOO!" he sneezes, sending a fireburst towards a trashcan and sending several catcoons scrambling away in blind panic.
"Heavens man, pull it together!" Wes says. "Are you sick?"
"No!" Wes says, sniffling. "I'm just… allergic."
"To what?" Wes asks.
"I don't know!" David shouts. "Normally, I get all stuffed up during explododhendron season, but that's months away, and it is never this bad. The last time I did… this… was… ACHOO!"
"…on the back of that bison!" Wes says excitedly.
"Yes," David says. "I was just about to say that."
Wes's grin is ever-so-slightly-frightening. "David! You're allergic to bison dander!"
"Try not to sound so overjoyed about it," David sniffs.
"Do you know what this means?" Wes asks.
"I need to buy a nose guard?" David says.
"It means that there is a significant chance of a bison being near here," Wes grins.
David's eyes widen. "We could steal it!" he says excitedly.
Wes's face falls. "No, you dimwit! The assassins, the airbender girl, her bison… everyone we met that night is here except for one person."
"…the handsome bastard!" David says.
"Exactly. I'm willing to bet that if we find that bison, we'll find him," Wes nods. "Let's follow your nose!"
They do exactly that, winding up down at the docks. On one end, a few abandoned boathouses line a decrepit-looking pier, covered in strange fog even though it's the middle of the day. David pulls his shirt up over his nose and stifles his sneezes as the two sneak over to peek inside. The first two are empty. The third is collapsed. The fourth one has something very large and very much alive hidden under a tarp.
"Careful!" Wes whispers. "This thing could crush us. It could probably eat us if it really wanted to."
"I have no intentions of becoming bison munch," David says, holding his nose.
They look around for a bit, but there is no sign of Jesse. At least, until…
"Oh, shit," Wes says upon hearing a strange whooshing sound. "Hide!"
"Where?" David asks.
"Anywhere!" Wes says.
With few other options, they dive behind a large, covered cart.
Jesse saunters casually into the boathouse, whipping the top off of the snoozing bison and gently rousing the animal to wakefulness. "Hey there, buddy!" Jesse says. "Time to head out again. Wouldn't want anyone linking me to any suspicious deaths, now would we?" he says with a wink.
Wes gasps.
The airbender's head snaps around. "Who's there?" he demands.
David glares at Wes, who is frantically looking for an escape.
The airbender continues to look around cautiously, but he doesn't seem entirely certain of what he heard. There is a chance they could get out of this unnoticed.
So of course, David's allergies pick that exact moment to act out.
"ATCHHHHNG!" he sneezes, trying desperately to hold it in.
"A-ha!" Jesse shouts.
"Shit," Wes whispers. "Shit!"
With precious little time before he arrives, Wes decides to mimic David and pulls his shirt up over his nose to hide his face. Just as Jesse skids to a stop in front of them, the two bolt out and blast past him.
"Hey!" he shouts. "Get back here, you thieving little shits!"
He sends a couple of airblasts their way strong enough to tear floorboards from the boathouse, but they manage to sprint out of the way and escape back into the city. They turn around just in time to (just barely)see the bison and its rider fly out of the boathouse and into the fog along the coast, carrying the same cart they were just hiding behind.
"Jesse attacked you?" Rachel gasps.
"…this is the second time it's happened in the story, actually," Wes says. "Why are you surprised?"
"Well, the first time was justifiable. You fell out of the sky and knocked someone to their probable death," Rachel points out. "But that time he attacked you for simply… being there. What could he have possibly been carrying that was so important he would attack you just for being near it?"
"Drugs," Artie and Blaine say in perfect unison.
Rachel gasps.
"Don't spoil it!" David says.
Wes rolls his eyes. "They already know the ending, David. I don't think spoilers are too much of a concern at this point," he says. "We thought… well, I thought he was hiding bodies in there. Even if he wasn't, he seemed to be connected with the others, which meant he was looking for the same people, and he was doing it faster. Plus, St. James tended to travel alone, so David and I actually stood a decent chance of capturing him for interrogation without getting killed. So we decided to follow him, instead of the people who were actually threatening you, thus explaining why I feel like an idiot," Wes finishes.
"Hey," Blaine says, patting him on the back. "It's alright. It all worked out… more or less."
"The decision was made, and we wanted to set out immediately. Unfortunately, the next time we mounted Cleetus, he took three steps before promptly dropping dead beneath us," David says.
"Oh, the poor birdy!" Rachel moans, prompting a facepalm from Kurt.
Pavarotti has nodded off, taking a short nap on the mantelpiece.
As Wes and David continue their story, no one notices that it has stopped raining…
The Chi-Ryus' remarkable efficiency has the group up and riding again no more than a couple of minutes after the rain subsides. The ostrich horses have no trouble jumping up the cliff and continuing onwards.
Puck spent the entire break in a heated debate with the 57th Morons over riding animals. That stupid little jump just adds fuel to the fire.
"Did you know that ostrich horses can jump hundreds of feet into the air, even with fully-armored passengers and cargo attached?" asks tubby staff dude.
"Who cares?" Puck says. "So they can jump. Big whoop. Can they brawl?"
"You are so close-minded," Staff sighs. "You're… you're horny for rhinos, is what you are! You think that just because they're big and tough, they're automatically better.
"I don't think," Puck says. "I know!"
"I don't think you know either," Two-Swords dude snickers. "Sorry, man, you set yourself up for that one."
"Pah," the leader, Straight-Sword, scoffs. "Mongoose lizards are far superior to both animals. If they weren't so cost-prohibitive, we'd be riding them!"
"Dude," chimes in Spear Guy. "Have you ever ridden a giant eel-hound? Those things are crazy! Super fast, AND they can swim."
"Who needs to swim when you can run on water? Mongoose lizards run on water!" Straight-Sword says.
"I've heard legends of a mythical golden bird," Chain Whip jumps in. "Flightless, like the ostrich horse, but far superior. Not only is it fast and light—it can travel over any terrain. There is no place it cannot reach. Mountains, deserts, verdant fields, rocky plateaus… it can walk up the sheerest of surfaces, even run across entire oceans."
"…and all that would be completely pointless if the golden bird could just fly," Two-Swords counters. "Flying bison have everything. Strength, size, speed, carrying capacity, flight… face it. They're the best!"
"Dude!" Spear Guy jumps in, elbowing Two-Swords. "You know what'd be sweet? Riding a dragon!"
"Bison are freaking giant puffballs!" Puck says. "Nobody's riding any fucking dragons, lizards are stupid, ostrich horses are stupid, friggin' eel-whatevers are stupid, and rhinos rule. Argument over."
Straight-Sword shakes his head. "You have no idea how a proper debate is conducted, do you?"
Puck slams his palm into his forehead. "Just… shut up," he grumbles, thinking of poor Kilgore, alone in some stable, losers like this not treating him with the respect an awesome badass like him deserves.
Quinn and Santana ignore the debate entirely. Quinn because her meditation allowed her to center herself and her energies on the task at hand, thinking only of the imminent demise she is about to bring. Every second brings her closer to her goal…
(Santana ignores it because she's been wearing earplugs ever since the dudes in her tent started trying to flirt with her in the most painfully awkward way imaginable. It's shocking how much more she likes the world when everyone just shuts the fuck up.)
Back in the Sylvester House…
"We couldn't pursue Jesse on foot," Wes says, "but we had no mount, and no way of getting one. The supplies Agatha provided us with did not include enough money to buy a riding animal."
David grins. "But as we strolled through the stables, browsing the available animals, an idea came to us…"
"Whoa!" Wes says, moving over to the stable to get a better look. Mostly the selection has been sickly-looking dragon moose and a few rhinos with serious anger issues. But this... this is a whole new ballgame.
"We can't afford that. We can't afford any of this!" David says.
But Wes has to ask anyway. "How much for the mongoose lizard?"
The stable master laughs. "More than you've got, I'll tell you that much."
"You might be surprised," Wes says cryptically.
"Alright…" the stable master says. "I suppose I could let it go for… a thousand gold pieces."
"A thousand!" David balks. "You're mad!"
"Hey, these things are damn hard to come by!" the stableman chuckles. "Supply and demand, y'know?"
Wes nods. "We'll be back."
He drags David out of the stable.
"'We'll be back?'" David scoffs. "We'll be back? Where are we going, and why would we return?"
"We're going to get the money to buy the lizard, and we are returning so that we may give the aforementioned money to the man who owns the lizard, so that he will transfer that ownership over to us, thereby buying the lizard," Wes explains.
"And where, exactly, are we going to get—"
Wes grabs a poster from a storefront as they pass, and shoves it into David's face.
"…1,000 Gold Pieces," David reads. He looks down at his friend. "…no. No. You are insane. You are not suggesting that we—"
"I absolutely am," Wes says flatly.
"How?" David balks. "How are we going to steal that much money out from under the noses of an armed convoy of lady-soldiers and hired hit-men?"
"We will think of something," Wes says.
So they set up a little outpost near the inn where the Chi-Ryus and the assassins are staying. The gold appears to be in a small chest on the back of one of the rhinoceroses, but the female soldiers are constantly patrolling, looking for any signs of intruders. Wes and David monitor them carefully, and think.
After a few hours…
"Have you thought of anything?" Wes asks.
"No," David says.
"Neither have I," Wes sighs. "They're constantly keeping watch. There's no way we could even get close to their supplies."
"I told you," David says flatly. "This was a stupid idea. Why don't we just steal the lizard?"
"Because," Wes says. "We are honest, law-abiding young gentlemen."
David blinks at Wes.
"It's not a crime to steal blood money!" Wes insists. "It's like a double negative. Criminality of the acts cancel each other out!"
"That's not how it works!" David sighs.
They go back to watching the girls patrolling the perimeter, and remain like that for quite some time.
Eventually, the blonde leader of the squad comes back from somewhere, looking forlorn. They didn't even see her leave.
"Well, she looks happy," David comments.
"She looks like someone just died," Wes says.
The leader marches into the inn, and a few concerned soldiers actually follow her, breaking their patrols.
"Oh!" Wes says excitedly. "This is it! This is our chance!"
"Well, let's go then!" David says. They jump off the roof they're hiding on, sliding down a gutter and landing in an alley.
The whole thing doesn't take more than a few seconds, and yet, by the time they emerge from the alley, no less than a dozen other thieves are making a mad dash for the prize money.
"Huh," Wes says. "Apparently, we aren't the only ones seduced by the song of the golden gobblegoose."
David tilts his head as the thieves begin noticing each other and start fighting. "Should we… join the fray?"
Wes crosses his arms and keeps staring as the Chi-Ryus re-emerge from the inn and begin blasting at the hapless criminals. "Perhaps not," he says. "I think I have a better idea…"
The scuffle continues for several minutes. 1,000 gold pieces is quite a hefty sum, so it isn't surprising that people are willing to fight for it. The thieves are largely outmatched by the Chi-Ryu, but some are cleverer than others, and use the fight as a distraction. One lanky-looking fellow manages to sneak around to the rhinos and cut the chest loose before being tackled by a Chi-Ryu. This opens the door for a second thief to come in and scorch a hole in the bottom of the chest. He is kicked into a tree, but all that does is give the third thief his golden opportunity. He seems to be the smartest one of the bunch. Carrying two bags, one full of rocks, and one empty, he dumps the gold into the empty bag and dumps the rocks into the chest, before cleverly making it look like the hole was never fully-opened.
His getaway is ruined when a Chi-Ryu breaks his arm and throws him onto the ground. A fourththief runs up, snatches his bag of gold, and promptly scrambles off into the night.
He stops to check his prize and count his winnings.
…thus giving the 5th and 6th thieves their golden opportunity.
WHACK.
"We'll be taking that!" Wes smiles, his shirt again pulled up to mask his lower face.
"Thank you for delivering it to us!" David grins as he finishes tying the poor fellow up.
Artie listens to their story with his hand cupping his chin. Upon reaching this part, he nods approvingly. "Nice technique. Very neutral jing," he says. "I think I like you guys."
Wes and David regard him with mixed gratitude.
"He likes us?" David asks as an aside to Blaine. "Should we be concerned?"
"Only slightly," Blaine says, patting him on the back.
"Let's see…" Wes says. "I think we can gloss over the next couple of days. Not much happened, really."
"Wait," David says. "Do any of you know a 'Norman?'"
A bit of contemplating, and a quick chorus of 'no,' 'nope,' 'don't think so,' and headshaking.
"Who is he?" Blaine asks.
David shrugs. "Just some hitchhiker we picked up. He's not important to the story."
"We dropped him off in the next town we went to as we chased St. James around the Fire Nation," Wes says. "Thanks to David's impeccably sensitive nose, we were able to track him easily, even on a flying animal. The mongoose lizard we procured with the stolen prize money certainly helped things."
David smiles. "If any of you ever has a chance to ride a mongoose lizard, they come highly recommended."
"Oh, I rode one of those!" Kurt says excitedly.
"You did?" David says.
Wes raises eyebrows and smiles at Kurt. "Did it do that thing where it comes to a body of water, and then it just—"
"—skims across the top? Oh, that was fantastic!" Kurt gushes.
David jumps back in. "And that thing where it comes to a big wall or cliff and it's just like—"
"'Monkeyfister, you are no obstacle for me,' and then it just climbs right over it?" Kurt finishes.
"Yes! Oh, that thing was immaculate," David says.
"I almost cried when I had to give mine up," Kurt sighs. "Good times… good times."
"It was the coolest thing I've ever ridden," Wes grins. "It enabled us to keep up with St. James fairly well. Every time he would stop, we would catch up with him. We continued tying cloth around our faces, both to preserve anonymity and to protect David from sneezing fits. We managed to harass him quite a bit, but no matter what we did, we could never capture him, and we never arrived in time to get to what he was carrying."
"He got more and more cautious," David continues, "to the point of paranoia. After he nearly blasted us off a cliff, we came to the conclusion that simply chasing him was not enough—we needed to get ahead of him. Set up an ambush. So I, with my excellent knowledge of geography, sat down and figured out his route."
"Oh, don't you even start," Wes says, rolling his eyes. "His route was completely predictable. So much so that it was my idea to try and figure it out in the first place."
"Psh," David scoffs. "You wish you were as smart as me."
"As smart as I," Wes corrects.
"Guys," Blaine says diplomatically. "Focus, please."
"Right," Wes says. "Anyway, his 'delivery route' as it were, was visiting any medium-to-large town in the Fire Nation, sweeping west to east. Once we had that down, we decided to jump ahead of him and wait instead of chasing him around. So about a week after the riots, we arrived in Fenghuang, and waite—"
"What," Blaine says flatly.
Artie is staring at them slightly gape-mouthed. The others are giving them various expressions of disbelief (all but Rachel, anyway, who just looks confused).
"We went to Fenghuang," David says cautiously. "I assume you know where Fenghuang is. You seemed relatively awake and aware during geography lessons."
Blaine massages the bridge of his nose. "Ummm… quick question. When you were there, did you, by any chance, notice any loud, obnoxious old people verbally abusing their young helpers?"
David looks thoughtful. "Now that you mention it…"
Wes and David quietly discuss their plan as they walk down the street. Having spotted Jesse flying into town early this morning, they know their window of opportunity won't be open for much longer. Unfortunately, they didn't take into account how heavily guarded he and his 'cargo' might be.
As they walk, a rather loud CLACK! draws David's attention. He looks over to see a rather scruffy-looking young man pushing a loud, hateful older man in a wheelbarrow. The man constantly berates the poor fellow, and David can't help but watch the spectacle.
Wes smacks his arm. "Don't stare!" he scolds. "It's rude."
And they continue on down the street…
"How do you keep guessing these?" Wes asks. "Were those friends of yours as well?"
"No," Blaine says, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "They were... nevermind." He sighs. "I'll tell you later. Just… keep going."
Artie snickers in the background.
"Very well, Blaine," Wes says, continuing the story. "Anyway, St. James rarely left the cargo for more than a few minutes at a time. His 'associates' or whatever you want to call them were quite irate with him for some reason, and he seemed more than a little worried. Our plan was relatively simple—we rented a flat cart used for moving furniture, and moved into position near his little hideout. We would create a distraction, rush in and snatch the container."
"The problem was creating a distraction in a way that wouldn't put us in imminent danger or immediately give us away," David says. "Even worse, filling out the necessary paperwork to rent the furniture cart took so long that by the time we moved into position that afternoon, St. James had grown even more paranoid. He resolutely refused to leave his cargo even for a second. He stood watch over it constantly."
"But just as we were about to give up, the universe smiled upon us once more," Wes says serenely.
"This is stupid," David says. "Forget creating a distraction. There is hardly anyone around—let's just go get him!"
"I'm starting to think you might be onto something," Wes sighs. "Whatever happened here when we left to rent the furniture cart seems to have cleared everyone out and made him nervous. He's off his game."
"We can take him," David nods with certainty.
"Let's do it!" Wes says.
They start pushing their cart towards the stables in the alley where the airbender stands, when suddenly, several people beat them to the punch. A tall, greasy-looking fellow and his short, pudgy friend step into the alley, both of them looking bruised and battered. For some odd reason, the pudgy one seems to have something drawn on his face in lipstick, and the greasy one is wearing blush. Several mean-looking characters of varying degrees of burly accompany them.
"What happened to you?" the airbender says.
"Nothing near as bad as what's about to happen to you," the greasy one says, pointing. "This is your fault!"
"How is you getting beaten up by a crowd of rabid women in any way related to me?" the airbender scoffs.
"It… you… it just is! It's your fault we had to chase 'em! You didn't even help! You just stood here like a wart on a badgertoad!" Pudgy accuses.
The airbender shrugs. "Not my problem. I have my reasons for not pursuing them. It was a simple case of mistaken identity."
"They stole our money!" Greasy shouts.
"Oh, hey!" the airbender claps. "Speaking of money—you owe me some! I'll take it now, if you please, as I have already wasted entirely too much time here."
"The only thing you're gonna 'take' is a beating, you little punk! Boys, get him!" Pudgy bellows.
The airbender sighs. "They never learn…"
Thus begins a rather heated (and shockingly one-sided) back-alley brawl. Even with a couple of firebenders, the thugs can't lay a finger on the airbender.
"Well, hello, Lady Opportunity!" David grins.
"Stop quipping and start moving!" Wes orders. As the airbender is occupied with the underworld tugging at his hem, Wes and David quickly and quietly move in. All told, it takes about fifteen seconds to run in, load the covered container onto the furniture cart, and push it out.
No one even notices them.
"I can't believe we just got away with that!" Wes smiles.
"Hey! The stuff is gone! Somebody took the blazing greens!"
"You had to go and say something, didn't you?" David sighs.
They pick up the pace, moving through the rapidly diminishing crowds and trying not to run anyone over.
"Slumbering slothpandas!" Wes grunts. "This is heavy! How many bodies does he have in this thing?"
David tilts his head and jumps up onto the cart (making it even heavier), peeking under the cover. "Oh… you are kidding me."
"What?" Wes asks.
"Good news and bad news. First, the good: there are no bodies in here. The bad: I think we've just wasted the past several days tracking a blazing drug mule," David grunts.
Wes pulls the cart to a stop, nearly sending David toppling off of it. "Excuse me?" he asks.
The stopping proves to be their fatal mistake. Jesse and his associates dash up behind them. The airbender recognizes them immediately, and cries, in a voice loud enough to be heard through the entire city…
"STOP, THIEVES!"
"Oh, fuck," David says. He jumps down, and the two of them try desperately to push the cart away from the thugs and the airbender. Unfortunately, the thugs are smarter than they look, and they manage to form a human wall, trapping Wes and David on an arch bridge over the Long River.
Jesse leaps over the muscle and gives a mighty death glare to the two of them. He yanks off their bandanas, revealing their identities at last.
"I knew it!" he growls. "Two firebenders fall out of the sky and just happen to land on my bison? And then I just happen to get harassed by thieves for the rest of the week? That's too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence!"
"You might be surprised," David says.
"I assure you, this is another misunderstanding," Wes explains.
"Monkeyfeathers!" Jesse growls. "You're spies! Saboteurs! Which temple do you work for? Who hired you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Wes says. "Really, we have no idea who or what you are!"
"We thought—well, he thought—" David starts, trailing off.
"Enough!" Jesse barks. "If you won't give me the answers straight, then I'll just have to beat them out of you."
"Ah… ah…" David says.
Wes immediately realizes what's coming. With no time to lose, he grabs David and pulls him onto the cart.
"Stop!" Jesse shouts, raising his staff.
"ACHOO!"
The explosive sneeze sends Jesse sprawling backwards. Even better, it propels Wes, David, and the container of drugs through the handrails and into the river.
The two boys land in the container, which floats quiet well. They rip off the cover, and soon, the two of them are floating merrily down the river on a makeshift raft, smiling smugly at the roaring, angry thugs they're leaving behind.
"Ha!" David says, cocking his head back. "We are untouchable. Unstoppable!"
And then half the thugs fly off of the bridge in an explosion of air as Jesse recovers. He slams his staff into the ground, and two large, batlike wings unfold from within.
"…you just had to say something," Wes echoes.
The airbender runs and jumps off the bridge, taking to the skies, and the chase begins.
Wes and David try to be rocketmen, blasting fire to up their speed, but St. James is far faster. As they raft through the city, the airbender dives at them. They try to intercept him with fire, but he pulls up at the last second, sending a gust of wind that knocks them both down. Fortunately, the city guards have noticed the commotion by this point, and as it turns out, they are far more likely to side with a couple of firebenders than a crazy, attacking airbender.
"Stop where you are!" the guards shout, launching a volley of fireballs at Jesse and forcing him to bank wildly to avoid them.
Wes and David pull themselves up and dust the greens off of their clothes, watching as Jesse is repeatedly forced to abandon attempts to attack them to dodge more fireballs. As the river picks up speed beneath them, the boys join the fun, hurling fire blasts of their own at the errant airbender.
"Wait for him to swerve, and shoot ahead of him!" Wes advises.
As Jesse pulls to the side to avoid being roasted, Wes and David fire in the direction he's heading. David's shot goes just a bit wide, but Wes's is a direct hit, punching a giant hole in one of his glider wings.
"You little shiiiiiiiits!" he cries as he goes sailing off to the side, crashing into some pottery. Wes and David watch with a measure of satisfaction as the guards start to surround him.
"Surrender!" they order.
Jesse just bounces up and pulls a small, white, oddly-shaped instrument from inside of his cloak. The airbender takes a deep breath and blasts into it as hard as he can, and… nothing happens.
"Ha, and ha again!" David says proudly. "His whistle is broken."
"I'm honestly not sure what good he thought a whistle would do to begin with," Wes comments, shaking his head.
The guards close in on Jesse, and the airbender seems to surrender, calmly placing his hands on his head.
It is just as the river takes them beyond the city limits that the purpose of the whistle becomes clear. Before any of the guards can lay a hand on the airbender, a tremendous white blur streaks down from the heavens and demolishes them, blasting through and sending them flying like a bullfallo destroying a house of cards.
"Oh, fuck!" Wes shouts.
"Balls, balls, a thousand times balls!" David curses.
Jesse perches proudly at the reins of his bison as it flies through the air, quickly gaining on them.
A jolt from the river nearly knocks them over. "Shit," Wes says, looking ahead. "We're about to hit the rapids!"
"Plan? Is there a plan? Do you have a plan? Because I don't have a plan!" David shouts, pulling his bandana back up.
"You watch our front!" Wes orders. "Steer us clear of the rocks! I'll defend our backs!"
"Got it!" David says.
The river plunges them down their first steep incline, and the chase begins in earnest.
David turns to the front and uses rocket-strength streams from his hand to guide them through the water, dodging large clumps of rocks and keeping them from being smashed against the shore during turns. As they speed down the river, David is pretty much the only thing that keeps them afloat.
"Rocks!" he warns, so Wes can brace himself as he swerves around them.
Meanwhile, Wes has his hands full with Jesse. His bison is well-trained; it knows they have something that belongs to it. Without needing to be guided, the enormous creature keeps pace with them easily, freeing Jesse to send bending attacks their way. He pulls his staff out again—wings now retracted, and slices a couple of crescent-shaped wind blades at them. Wes deflects them with a well-timed explosion, and counters by creating a flame between his hands, enlarging it, and blasting it towards Jesse in the form of a spread of five simultaneous fireballs. The airbender has no trouble deflecting the blasts himself, but the beast takes a couple of burns to its fur.
Wes feels a little guilty about hurting the animal, which probably doesn't have much of a say in all this, but his guilt is quickly assuaged when the gigantic beast banks to the side, taking a deep breath and releasing it. The blast of wind that follows is so strong that it actually breaks off the trunk of a tree, sending it screaming towards them. Wes whips out his fire-ropes and expertly lashes it apart, winding up with only a few scrapes against his face from the shrapnel.
"Turn!" David shouts. Wes braces himself as they round a corner, and Jesse catches up with them again.
"The temples are just jealous!" Jesse accuses, using his hand to blast out thin, highly focused beams of air at them. "They know their time is up. They can't stomach change, so they're trying to drag everyone down with them! Well, fuck the temples, and—as an aside—fuck you! You can't stop the future!"
"You might as well be speaking whale!" Wes shouts, bobbing from side to side to dodge the gusts as David weaves them around some rocks. "I have no clue what you're saying!"
"Liar!" Jesse says, throwing a two-handed burst of air down at them. Wes buffets the convex wind-shield as hard as he can with continuous flame, weakening it significantly. But he can't blow it apart—the thing still hits him and knocks him into David, sending them both to the floor.
"Ow!" David grumbles. "Watch where you're landing!"
"I'm sorry!" Wes grumbles back. "The next time I'm attacked by an airbender, I'll politely ask if he can bend me away from—SHIT! HOLD ON!"
That's all the warning he can give before they plunge down a series of small waterfalls, painfully jolting them each time and making it impossible for them to get up between them.
When they finally reach a more level section of the river, Wes kicks back to his feet only to find ten tons of terrifying staring him down from only a few yards away.
"Give up!" Jesse orders from atop the bison. "Give me the drugs, and I might consider maiming you instead of killing you."
"You know what?" Wes says. "No. I don't even know who you are or who you work for, and I don't care. I feel like being contrary. You, sir, are a jackass!"
Wes is prepared to fight to the death, but David has other plans.
"You want the drugs?" he says, picking up a huge clump of z-leaf with both hands and holding it up.
Jesse's eyes widen. "Don't you dare…"
"Take them!" David grins, setting the leaf light. Wes pulls up his bandana to shield himself from the fumes as the smoke trails behind them, flying into the bison's face and choking it. It coughs (the gusts giving them a short speed boost) and shudders, banking away from the smoke and putting distance between them once more.
"Nicely done, David!" Wes says, slightly impressed.
David grins and turns back to his steering job. His jaw drops. "…you'll likely be taking that back shortly."
Wes turns around, only to see another waterfall ahead of them, this one larger than all the others.
The boys immediately rush forward and start firebending at the water, trying to push themselves away from their imminent demise, but it does almost no good at all.
"We'll just have to try and cushion our fall!" Wes says. "When we go over—"
At this point, they go over.
Oddly enough, something is already there to cushion their fall. The boys and their drugs bounce off something large and fleshy, and promptly land in the water, none the worse for wear. Upon recovering from the fall, Wes looks behind them to see what they bounced off of, and is shocked to find nothing less than a giant poison Dragon Frog sleeping under the waterfall, the liquid soothing what appears to be several burn marks on its face.
"Bridge!" David warns.
At this point, Wes has his own stroke of genius.
If this week has taught him absolutely nothing else, it's that one should never underestimate the value of playing one's enemies against each other.
And though it seems kind of cruel, Jesse is quickly catching up to them, and there are precious few options available.
So Wes decides to make a new enemy.
He hurls a two-handed fireblast right into the giant frog's face, startling the beast awake and enraging it beyond measure just as Jesse and his bison pass overhead.
The timing could not be more perfect.
The outraged amphibian leaps into the air at the exact right moment, slamming directly into the bison and nearly jolting Jesse off of it. The dragon frog lands back in the river in a disgruntled heap, while the flying bison now finds itself living in a very different world. As David guides them between the supports of the Long River Bridge, Wes watches with satisfaction as the bison bobs, weaves, and lurches in the air.
Jesse's panicked attempts to wrangle the creature back under control only make matters worse, causing the animal to dive at the worst possible time. The impact is inevitable. Wes can only wince as the bison slams headlong into the bridge, completely and utterly blasting it apart.
"…ouch," Wes says. "That is going to be a considerable local tax hike."
The airbender tries as hard as he can to get the confused bison under control, but it's completely useless. He has been thoroughly juiced, and the inebriated creature happily spirals off into the sky, swerving unpredictably, looping around and carrying a wailing Jesse with it off into the distance.
David steers them to the shore.
"Well," he says as he watches the bison do a barrel roll with Jesse holding on for dear life. "That was cathartic."
"I feel like this is karma coming to bear," Wes says. "Maybe he'll hit a barn or two on his way."
Artie can no longer contain his laughter. He shorts and falls over, smacking the ground and cackling to the heavens. "Oh, man!" he says. "Wow. Dude was not kidding when he said he had a rough week."
"He deserved it!" Rachel says, crossing her arms and looking thoroughly upset. "Honestly… delivering drugs! Working with criminals! Attacking people for no reason!"
"Well, technically, he was right about our being thieves," Wes starts.
"DO NOT INTERRUPT MY INDIGNATION!" Rachel yells, pointing at him. "He just… I just… oooooohhhh! He makes me so angry!" She slices her hand through the air as she slams it to the ground in rage. A considerable breeze kicks up in its wake, ruffling Blaine's hair and waking up Pavarotti.
Rachel gapes at the sight. "Oh, my," she says.
"Yay," Kurt says lightly, offering her a golf clap. "Airbending!"
"Oh?" Wes asks. "Another airbender?"
"I assure you," Rachel says, crossing her arms. "I am nothing like Jesse St. James."
"Besides being an airbender," David corrects.
"Which is technically more than 'nothing,'" Wes adds.
"Oh, just shut up and finish your story!" she grumbles.
Wes smiles. "Well, after Jesse went sailing off into the wild blue yonder, David and I parked our improvised boat and stashed it under some vines."
"Intending to turn it in to the proper authorities later, of course," David says in a way that lets everyone involved know that he intended to do no such thing.
"By the time we got back to Fenghuang, however, the adrenaline rush of our momentary triumph had worn off, and we realized something very important…"
"We are so stupid," Wes sighs, banging his head against the wall of their tiny, incredibly cheap room at the inn. He's pretty sure it was intended as a closet, but beggars can't be choosers. "We've wasted the past few days chasing no one. I don't think he was connected to the others at all. And now we're back to square one—we have no idea where to even begin to look."
"Wesley," David says softly from the bed. "What are we even doing, man?"
Wes looks over at him. "I thought that was obvious."
"No, I'm serious!" David says, and for once, he truly is. His sad eyes leave no doubt of his sincerity. "Let me see if I have this right: you and I, technically still considered schoolboys, are—with no back-up, no support, and no one who even knows where we are—chasing after dangerous assassins and criminals who appear to be fully supported by our new government. We have no more money, and nothing but the clothes on our backs and this dinky little knapsack. And we expect to find one person—who may not even be alive—with an entire country to search through. Do I have that about right?" he finishes.
Wes blinks, shaking his head. "Well… I suppose when you put it in those terms, it does sound…"
"It sounds…" David presses.
Wes rubs his eyes, sits on the bed, and sighs. "Stupid. It sounds stupid. We are stupid—wait, no, I am stupid," he says, dropping his head into his hands. "This entire fruitless escapade was my idea. Going out on our own, following Jesse, stealing from him… I'm sorry, David. I just…" He looks up. "Do you really want to just… give up on him?"
"No," David says. "But I never wanted him to be hurt at all. Sometimes it doesn't matter what we want." He pauses for a bit. "You know what I want?" he asks. "I want to go see my family. I want a hug from my mother, and I want to squeeze my little sister and tell her how much I love her, how happy I am that she lives."
"I…" he says quietly. "I miss my family, too. I do. But Blaine essentially is family. I can't give up on him yet."
He reclines on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this, David," he says quietly. "I'm sorry. If you want, you can take the lizard and go to your home. I… I don't mind being alone."
David does not respond. Well, not in any way Wes can hear.
WHUMP.
A pillow smacks into his head, causing Wes to sputter and sit up.
David looks at him flatly. "You're right," he says. "You are stupid. And…" he adds, a little softer. "…it is for precisely that reason that I refuse to let you do this by yourself." He smiles. "You're not alone."
Wes smiles back. "Well, I'm glad you're so charitable."
And that's when it hits him.
"Not alo—"
Pavarotti screeches loudly and dives off of the mantelpiece.
That's all the warning they get before the boulder slams into the living room.
It is a testament to their reflexes that they can even react at all.
In the span of a split second, Kurt thrusts his hands out to create a cushion of air to soften the blow. Blaine at the boulder, using the firestream to buffet Kurt's air and add to the force. Mercedes and Artie immediately start trying to bend the rock, and while Wes and David jump in and throw two of the most explosive fireballs they can muster on such short notice.
With their combined efforts, the boulder that probably would've crushed all of them becomes a small flood of sand that gets all over everyone's clothes.
The gang is up and ready to fight in a second, but their faces fall just slightly when they see their opposition.
Through the massive new hole in the wall, Blaine counts Quinn, Puck, Santana, six Chi-Ryus, and ten other soldiers.
"Oh, Blaine," Quinn says, stepping forward and crossing her arms. "Today is much too nice to waste indoors." She smirks.
"Come outside and play."
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: ;) We're not quite finished with Wes and David yet, but we have some… other things to attend to first. Dragon Hawks, Intermission: A Scuffle with Assorted Ruffians is next. :P
