Disclaimer—See Chapter One
A/N: I'm again so sorry for the slow update! I just finished the ending of this chapter a few hours ago and will start working on the next chapter immediately. With the coming holidays, time will be even more hard to find, but I will do my best to update whenever I can. Thank you so much to those staying with me, despite my pathetic slowness. Thank you to Fiery Feral, Anamalia-fear, blackpanther2288, CatJerica, Rain (thank you! I was worried about that!), Tunder28 (sorry for making you wait so long!), Rena (I didn't get to the dialogue scene between Nicholas/Shalimar as originally planned for this chapter, so it will be in the next instead!), Cassidy Wich (I'm so glad you liked the mix of eps in here!). Thank you all so much for your comments and encouragement! Mayra, you'll see some more connection with 222 in this chapter as well. The rest of the story will branch off more, but I had to add a Naxcon scene before doing so. Thank you! Glad you're liking the J/E as well! (You too, Ana!) Susie, I think you'll be happy in the end, I just have to make the journey a little bumpy. :) Thank you! Kitty Invictus, I love all your comments! Thank you! I haven't really thought about it much, but I suppose if I were to name this chapter, I would call it Dancing on the Edge or On Edge or something along those lines. I probably should name my chapters; I've just been too lazy. :) I only managed to make it about half way through my original outline for this chapter, so didn't get to the dialogue and original ending as planned, so I'll have to squeeze one more chapter into this story. Still have no idea how long it will be! But anyway, here is the next chapter for you. Thank you!
Traveling On—Chapter Twelve
Prelude:
The lobby to Naxcon was quiet, a few missed papers still scattered on the floor from where the intern had fallen, the leaves on the potted palm shivering ever so slightly against the hot air blowing from the vent above it. Copper light from the glow of the western sunset was spilling through large glass windows by the time the elevator finally dinged, doors sliding open once more. Footsteps echoed across high-gloss marble, heels digging into the floor, picking up tempo the last few paces to the entrance. Cold air swept in twice---once when a blur of blonde hair and denim left and once again a few minutes later when someone slipped inside. Paper crunched loudly under the fall of a heavy boot, kicked back unheeded and sucked through the closing door just as the sun disappeared into the horizon and the world was left behind, awash in darkness.
Shalimar stood alone in the doorway, watching.
Brennan moved quietly across the room, seemingly at a loss for a moment as he restlessly cast his eyes about, finally settling his tired body down on the couch. The whole way home, she had been distant, not wanting to accept his touch, not wanting to hear his words.
Her world had been turned upside down yet again in too few of days.
She had met her father.
He wanted to talk about it, but she wouldn't let him. And so he watched her as she watched him, and withdrew further inside herself. Several times he started to say something, and then stopped. He sighed, fingers finding the remote and turning on the TV, flicking through channels.
She pushed off the doorframe, crossing the room to sink onto the other end of the couch.
Flick. Flick. Flick.
She was silent as Brennan continued to mindlessly flip through channels, reruns and news casts flashing across the screen. "That one." She finally spoke up when he began his third rotation through the channels, nodding at an old movie.
His thumb paused on the remote, pushing up the volume until soft voices filled the room. He tossed the remote onto the floor, leaning back against the overstuffed cushion. The movie droned on, but neither paid much attention, lost in thought. Several times more he opened his mouth, only to snap it shut. Finally, after watching her from under half closed eyelids as she shifted on her end of the couch, failing to get comfortable, he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her up the length of his body. She stiffened, but he simply twisted until his back was against the couch, shifted some more until they could both see the television easily and wrapped his arms around her.
Then he grinned.
She glared at him mutinously, not wanting to accept his comfort, but unable to resist him. He knew she had a penchant for using his body as a hot water bottle. It was unfair for him to use that knowledge now. She grumbled as she settled herself more comfortably, and Brennan wisely refrained from commenting. They finished watching the movie in amicable silence and by the time the credits rolled, Shalimar could almost pretend their world was back to normal. Back before she had been haunted by an insane psionic, back before her mentor had lain broken in the lab, back before dreams kept her awake at night, back before she had met her father. In the end though, reality intruded itself and it was too painful to ignore.
He held her when the first tears started, and held her still when the watery tears turned to silent sobs. Though she tried to deny it, the past few hours had impacted her hard.
"I'm sorry—"
"Hey, shh, no." He protested at her whisper, pressing a string of kisses along her shoulder, her temple.
"I've hated him for so long, Brennan. Seeing him again…"
"Brought it all back, yeah, I know." He tightened his hold on her, tucking her more firmly against him, resting his cheek against her. "It's ok, Shal." His whisper stirred her hair
"He promised that he isn't working with Eckhart, but Adam was so sure there would be some connection—" She shook her head. "He claims that the company car was just stolen."
"But that's a good thing." Brennan gently reminded, tucking her hair behind her ears.
She smiled faintly. "You should have seen the look on his face when I told him we're working with Adam. He's convinced that Adam has some plan, but I told him everything Adam told us. I'm not sure he really believed me though."
"I think he hated me," Brennan chuckled ruefully.
"Well, only after he found out we live together." Shalimar couldn't help but chuckle as well, glancing back over her shoulder to meet his eyes.
"Every father's nightmare," Brennan grimaced back, nudging her nose with his.
"Yeah, that and the fact that you're a new mutant." Shalimar's smile dropped. "Guess I'm still not that normal little girl he always wanted me to be."
"Shal—"
"No, Brennan, don't say it." She twisted in his arms, facing him. "I don't want to think about that right now, ok?" She stroked his cheek, feeling the stubble. He hadn't shaved this morning in his haste. She ran her palm down the plane of his face, the rasping loud in the silence. She heard him breathing, felt his pulse surging beneath her. "I love you, Brennan."
He smiled, taken back by her intensity. "I love you too, Shal."
She kissed him, seeking normalcy, suddenly realizing as he kissed her back that the way he made her feel was anything but normal, and she wouldn't let anything, not her father and most certainly not some psionic, take that feeling away from her. All these years, she had thought Sanctuary was her one safe place in the world. But it's here, she decided, breathing in his scent, this is my normal.
When Jesse walked through the room a little while later, he found them sound asleep, wrapped in each others arms. He smiled at the sight, pausing to turn off the neglected television before leaving as quietly as he could. Adam had wanted an update on her father, but it could wait for a few minutes longer.
An explosion brought Brennan abruptly awake, heart pounding as he found himself waking on a gurney. He tried to move, pain racketing his body, fingers tightening on a stiff golden yellow blanket. He blinked, sound rushing in, loud and chaotic, the heat of fire and the cold of the air searing his face. He heard screaming, a voice rising in anger, panic, and realized it was Shalimar, something about her father. Another explosion rocked the ground, and he stared in shock as the remains of Naxcon sunk below choppy waves. This was how it all began, he realized, stomach twisting in fear. He pushed himself off the gurney, legs almost collapsing when through the smoke and the din, he suddenly saw his brother. The dark-haired man was standing on the edge, silently watching the confusion around him. As if on cue, he suddenly turned his head, eyes boring intensely into Brennan's. He opened his mouth, words forming, but Brennan's couldn't understand what was being said. Behind him, a medic turned on a flashlight, and it blinded him. He threw up his hands instinctively, hearing Jesse's strangled call for Emma, overwhelmed at the feeling of despair that struck him as the light continued to grow brighter.
His eyes flew open, staring in the dark. Air surged into his chest, as he suddenly gasped, bolting upright, grappling to catch Shalimar as he almost knocked her off the couch. The couch. He sank weakly back down, realizing it was only another dream. He lay still, heart pumping like crazy. It took him a moment to realize he was shivering.
The Naxcon explosion, it had still happened.
He groaned, pressing his nose into Shalimar's neck as the tremors began to build.
He had failed again.
And his brother had been there.
In her sleep, Shalimar had barely felt the jolt, locked in a nightmare of her own. Fear. Claustrophobia. Three little faces staring out through slitted bars, trapped. Footsteps running by, a sigh of relief and then new panic as the grate hiding them refused to open, becoming their prison. A shadow passed by, a strange crackling laugh and then there was only one face left staring through the bars, owlish eyes grotesquely afraid in the pale face. Panic. Terrifying panic. Tiny arms rose, banging against steel bars until the tender skin of baby fists ripped and the blood ran freely down trembling arms. Her own arms fought for him of their own accord, instinctively, reactively.
"Shalimar!"
She struck out again, fists striking Brennan's chest as he fought to shake her awake.
"Shalimar, wake up!"
She abruptly stopped struggling, collapsing against him as she panted in relief. Brennan blew out a sigh of relief as his own nerves relaxed. He tried to get her to look at him, but she dug in deeper, and he sighed, resting his chin on top of her head, eyeing her with carefully concealed concern. She was not losing weight. If anything, the strenuous missions and workouts she insisted on doing were continuing to add to her muscle tone. Physically, she was as healthy as he had ever seen her. Mentally…
Brennan felt his lips flatten.
It had not seemed so bad a few weeks ago. She had been a bit more cautious, a bit more on the edge. He should have…damn it. He should have known better. She had promised she would tell him if it got too bad. She finally lifted her chin, and he glared at the blue smudges under her eyes suspiciously. Was she getting any sleep at all? His hand grabbed her wrist as she ran it down his chest, and he managed to keep his voice soft enough so that his words went no further than her ears.
"Nightmares, Shal?"
Her eyes widened, startled. Then surprisingly, she blushed. Her reply was little more than a mumble. "No, just some trouble falling asleep."
He watched, strangely fascinated as the tips of her ears flushed purple. That was an interesting reaction. He had figured out rather quickly that her anxiety level skyrocketed the minute she felt something was outside of her control. He was fairly certain it came from a paranoid conviction that the minute she appeared weak, something would happen to the rest of them and she would no longer be able to protect them. He should've been upset, but couldn't help the sudden grin that quirked his lips at the irony. Self-preservation instincts kept his head ducked, but the grin got wider. They really did belong together.
"Yeah, me too."
Her eyebrows climbed into her hairline as she took in his sweat-soaked shirt and pounding heart rate, shaking her head as their eyes met in mutual understanding.
"Shalimar."
Jesse's quiet voice interrupted them, the apologetic look on his face telling them he had waited as long as he could, "Adam is awake and anxious to hear what happened."
Shalimar nodded at him, and Brennan watched as her expression faded into something he found suspiciously bland.
"Hey," He tugged on her fingers as she stood to her feet.
"It's ok, we'll talk later," She pulled him off the couch, laughing as he groaned in protest, resting her head against his shoulder as his arm settled around her waist, following Jesse into the lab.
"Come on, Adam, move already." Emma rolled her eyes at the older man, tired of waiting.
Adam shot her an easy smile, fighting the urge to yawn, feeling remarkably better since the last time he had awakened. It was amazing what a little sleep and morphine could do. He nodded his chin, indicating which chess piece he wanted her to move.
"It's about time--" Emma smiled back at him as she pushed his knight for him. "Hey wait a minute." It suddenly sunk in what he had just done.
"Checkmate." Adam's smile widened at her look. "Remember what I once told you about always knowing your opponent's weaknesses?"
"Yeah, yeah," Emma glanced over her shoulder as the lab doors pushed open, standing up to gather the chess pieces.
"Lost again, huh," Jesse squeezed her shoulder as he came up behind her, helping her pick up the board.
"One of these days I will beat you guys," Emma walked backwards as she grinned at a yawning Adam, jostling her armful of chess pieces.
Jesse followed her out, lying the chess board back onto the side table it was kept on. "He's doing really well."
"He is," Emma tilted her head for a moment, concentrating as she touched the minds of her team. "Everyone actually is considering what's going in."
"We're a strong team." Jesse caught her hand as they headed back toward the lab. "Especially you."
"Jess—"
"I mean it, Emma." He pulled her to a stop, turning to face her. "Adam's in horrible pain, yet you took him away from that for a moment. He was actually smiling! And this despite your own confusion. I don't know what we would do without you."
She smiled tenderly, placing a hand on his chest. "You're the one that reminded me about choices." She ran her hand up his chest, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck as she kissed him. "We better get back." She whispered regretfully when he lifted his head, eyes dark with emotion.
He nodded, watching her for a moment as she began walking again, shaking his head as he ran to catch up with her.
The conversation had turned to Alex when they got back into the lab, slipping silently into the room and joining the rest of their team.
Shalimar glanced at them, smiling distractedly as they settled next to her. When she had told Adam they hadn't found any connection between her father and Eckhart, he had nodded thoughtfully, letting it go. She was surprised, curious…relieved. She shifted restlessly, not sure what to believe. Adam had thought Eckhart was using her father. Her father said he hadn't seen Eckhart, but he still carried a hatred for Adam. Why did family have to be so painful sometimes? She sighed, watching Brennan's face as Adam asked him about Alex. Her father, his brother. She pinched her nose in frustration.
"It's not him, Adam." Brennan crossed his arms.
"I don't want to believe it either, Brennan." Adam kept his voice calm, knowing the tumultuousness of Brennan's emotions. "But we have to consider all possibilities. Alex did spend years with Eckhart."
"Not by choice." Brennan glared in his general direction. "And besides, why would he have helped us find Dr. Shaw's work then?" Brennan shrugged his broad shoulders. "He hates Eckhart."
"He destroyed Dr. Shaw's work." Adam gently reminded.
"Because he didn't want any one else to suffer!"
"Or maybe because he didn't want us to have the knowledge or the information." Adam pressed his lips together, suppressing a cough. "I watched him during our last mission, Brennan. I saw hints of darkness within him, I saw Michael smile in approval at Alex's rage and his easy ability to kill without remorse."
"The same could be said of any of us." Emma softly interjected.
"Alex is very powerful," Adam glanced at her, but continued speaking. "It's possible some of that power has corrupted him---"
"No!" Brennan abruptly stood up, chair clattering as it fell onto the polished floor. "Don't say it, don't you dare say it. He is nothing like Ashlocke."
"Brennan—" Shalimar jumped to her feet as well.
"I know, I know," He held up a hand, keeping her at bay, mouth twisting sarcastically. "We're just considering all possibilities, aren't we Adam?" His jaw flexed as he bent to pick up the chair, wrenching it around and slinging his body back into it, straddling it backwards, arms leaning on the backrest.
"Yes, we are." Adam's voice remained calm, turning his face away as pain creased across his forehead.
Jesse stood, silently pushing more morphine until the vein standing out in Adam's temple relaxed and his teeth unclenched. He looked up, meeting Emma's eyes.
Shalimar tentatively sat again as well, watching as the muscles in Brennan's forearms coiled tightly. Guilt lined his features as he watched Adam, along with deep frustration. Fear. She understood all too well. "So what now?" She finally broke the silence.
"I think you said it before, Shal." Jesse looked at his teammates one by one. "Since we learned nothing for now at Naxcon, we need to go back to the compound."
"Danny." Brennan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he stood to his feet again, it was calmly this time, crossing the room. He bent over Adam, cupping his shoulder. "You just concentrate on getting better, ok? We'll take care of everything."
Unspoken, the apology was in his voice.
Adam cracked open his eyes to accept it, asking for one of his own in return.
Brennan squeezed his shoulder again, clearing his throat as he straightened, leaving the room.
Jesse stayed behind for a moment, waiting until the others had left.
"What is it, Jesse?" Adam spoke without opening his eyes.
"Adam, in the end, back on that island, those super mutants died way too easily."
"What do you mean?"
"It was like they had the metabolism of old men, Adam. They were so strong, but yet so weak. It was weird."
"That makes sense." Adam nodded wearily. "Eckhart's been using selective mutation from a set of blueprints, but he doesn't have the required DNA to perfect the process."
"The names on the list…yours." Jesse understood, glancing over his shoulder at the door before turning back around. "Do you really think Shalimar's father is not involved?"
Adam's eyes opened again at the question, meeting Jesse's steadily. "I don't want to believe that either her father or Brennan's brother are involved. But Eckhart needs some way to get the needed materials for his latest project. His current experiments are weak, and he knows it. With what I've been able to learn about Naxcon, the company has access to those materials."
"So what are you saying?" Jesse gently shook Adam's shoulder, rousing him awake as the muscles in his neck relaxed, head sinking into the pillow, eyes drifting shut.
Adam didn't move, but managed to mumble before falling unconscious from the drugs. "If Nicholas or Alex are not involved, then it has to be coming from someone close to them. Keep…an eye on them…"
"Jesse, let's go!"
The molecular quickly glanced over his shoulder again at Shalimar's call, frowning when he turned back around. He still had more questions, but they would have to wait. Adam was out cold.
"Ok," He called to the others as he ran up the ramp into the helix, "Adam will sleep for a while, but I've got his monitors looped into the helix's computers so we'll be able to keep an eye on him."
"You guys ready?" Brennan threw a quick glance around the cabin as he pushed forward on the throttle. Already, he could feel the pull of adrenaline on his system, heart pounding in anticipation as it did with every mission.
"As ready as we'll ever be." Shalimar spoke softly, fingers unconsciously gripping the arms of her seat, seeing the face from her dreams. "Let's go find Danny."
The call for help came before they even arrived.
In a confused garble of panic and fear, Shalimar heard her father's voice.
Brennan heard only the words.
Explosion.
Naxcon had exploded.
In the co-pilot seat, Jesse had taken control from Brennan's numb fingers, already having turned the helix around and roaring toward the fated disaster before Brennan even realized it.
"No—" Brennan snapped awake, eyes meeting Shalimar's as he spoke, seeing the torture in her expression.
She had to help. Even if a part of her still hated him, he was still her father.
By now, Nicholas' voice had cut out, but the connection was still there, muffled horrors played out in real time detail.
There was a moment of silence in the cabin, a quick exchange of anguish and uncertainty.
"You knew about the explosion?" Emma broke the silence with a sharp intake of air, glancing between them, eyes settling on Brennan. "What aren't you telling us?"
Brennan shook his head, not making eye contact. "Nothing, I just—"
Emma frowned, interrupting. "Brennan—"
"You died."
"What?" Out of all the possibilities, she hadn't expected that one. Her fingers gripped her thighs, feeling the overwhelming emotion.
"What's going on, Brennan?"
Brennan could feel Jesse's eyes boring into him now as well. "Look," He sighed, "I've seen this explosion already, in my dreams. I can't explain it, but all I know is that Adam and Emma…die from an explosion at Naxcon. We can't go there."
"Brennan," Jesse raised his eyebrows. "It's just a dream."
"So was it when I dreamed about that mist back in the cave, but yet it would have killed Shalimar. I know it's crazy, but—"
"It's not." Emma had a strange look on her face.
"What?" Jesse abandoned the controls this time, turning all the way around in his seat to look at her.
The helix dipped sharply, and Brennan grabbed the throttle, evening it out. The line crackled; a muffled scream. Shalimar flinched.
"It's not crazy." Emma finally looked up, catching Brennan's gaze. "But we have to go anyway."
He sucked in a breath, feeling the sense of panic whither, a false calm taking over his body and recognized it as Emma's presence. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Shalimar watched their exchange intently, making a small strangled sound in the back of her throat when the line went dead. "Guys—"
"We're going." Emma turned her face away, staring out the window.
Jesse watched her for a moment, jaw flexing as he turned back toward the front, retaking the controls. "Then let's go."
It had been an exceedingly long day for Nicholas Fox, the wonder and confusion of meeting his daughter mixing with the more practical demands of a looming deadline. Even after the sun had long gone down, the air growing chilly, he had been bound to his desk, his team with him, despite the prospect of another long night without sleep. And so when his intern had staggered into his office, in shock for the second time that day, he had felt a flicker of impatience. His mouth had opened, intent on barking an order, when the alarms began to ring. A frown of annoyance, the utterance of her words before she fainted, and he knew he was in trouble.
"He th—threw fire from h-h—his hands!"
Heavy footprints sounded outside his office just as his hands reached for the phone, fumbling for the number his daughter had given him a few mere hours ago.
Death was almost instantaneous.
Almost.
In a searing blast, an explosion of fire roared through the building toward Nicholas Fox and his unconscious intern, leaving behind a string of seared corpses and lungs empty of oxygen in its wake. For all its speed relative to human perception however, this was a deflagration, not a detonation, and was what saved Nicholas' life. Instinct dropped him to his hands and knees behind the desk, the phone abandoned as he hid from boots that he could see circling the room under the three inch crack between the floor and the frame. A secondary explosion rocked the room and caught the attention of the boots before they walked the two more feet that would have brought him into view, pausing and then turning around, hurrying from the room just as the ceiling splintered, partially collapsing from above. Nicholas heard the next explosion a bare instant before he felt the flames. There was no time to run. He was physically lifted off his feet and thrown into the window. Assaulted by the pressure wave as well as the weight of an unconscious intern, the glass shattered.
The slower shockwave allowed for shifting, cracking, and venting; material in the path of detonation blasted to oblivion. The walls of the great building heaved and groaned before buckling in despair, giving way. Once through the window, Nicholas fell below the path of the blast, protected by the shell of his office and escaping the hungry flames chasing after him. He was burned in places, but it wasn't enough to kill him. Water closed over his head before he could finish the thought.
A driver passing by had the sense of mind to use his cell phone to call 911 and help arrived just as the building began its final collapse. In the arms of a shocked co-worker, the intern bled to death from a severed artery two minutes before the fire trucks pulled up the driveway. The Mutant X team arrived just as firefighters with hose and axes forced their way into the portion of the burning building that had not sunk below the choppy waters, hoping that someone may have survived the blaze. Despite the angry cries of blame that would later fall on various shoulders of responsibility, there was no way that any of them could have really known. No way for them to have realized they were facing a shadowy enemy hardened by soullessness. As far as they knew, this had been just another fire. That actual knowledge died with the poor intern. They were not to blame. It was not their fault.
But ignorance does not protect the innocent.
As the team looked on in shocked horror, the roof exploded. Driven by a titanic fury of a concussive blast wave, the non-reinforced concrete ceiling literally tore itself apart in an agonizing rending of concrete, earth, and sod. Even as the earth ripped apart with the wet sound of ripping silk, flames shot through the gaping wound.
Bleeding from the ears, Nicholas Fox crawled out of the water and out from behind the twisted wreckage of a car that had taken the brunt of the blast and sheltered him in its shadow.
Later, Brennan would recall thinking how eerily silent it was. How he should have been able to hear the screams of people over the flames that he could see as only a bright orange glare reflecting off a scene that could have been cast from a vision of hell. But it hadn't been.
It had been cast in his nightmares.
He blinked numbly as, beside him, Shalimar whimpered and ran forward, catching her father just as his legs collapsed beneath him.
They were alive.
Naxcon had exploded, and Adam and Emma were still alive.
The relieved chuckle died in his throat as his mind's eye again saw his dream, saw Alex as he stood beside him in the shadow of the flame. His mouth again moved, but no sound was coming out. He leaned down close to his ear.
"I am him," The vision of his brother whispered, breath cold against his ear. "I am him."
"Brennan." A hand on his arm startled him; Emma's upturned face writhed in concern as she watched him. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah." He blinked, shaking his head. "Yeah."
"We have to help!" She shouted in his ear about the din, gesturing to the chaos around them.
"Be careful!" He forced his legs to move, carrying him forward to the first of many people injured even as he lost contact with the rest of his team. And all the while, amidst the noise and the heat, his heart was still thumping from his dream.
Shalimar was torn.
Protective instinct kept her on her feet, trotting back in forth in agitation between her father as he was treated on the back of an ambulance and between Emma as she tried to help those hurting around her. They died. Though it was seemingly over, and though Jesse stayed close by her, she couldn't bear to let her out of her sight. Haunted by Brennan's words and fueled by feral desire, she couldn't sit still. Though finally contained by sweat-drenched fireman, the fire didn't help any, flickering teasingly, seductively, in the cloudy night, keeping her on edge. She didn't know what time it was when it suddenly occurred to her she hadn't seen Brennan for quite some time. She stopped abruptly.
"Where's Brennan?"
Jesse looked around. "I thought he came back here." His stomach turned over. "He's not here?"
She mutely shook her head, feeling the familiar sense of dread swirling in her gut.
"I'm sure he's fine," Jesse saw the rising panic, quickly gesturing to Emma a few feet away from them. "Emma would be able to tell---Hey!" He broke off as she darted away. "Shalimar, wait!"
But she was already gone.
The mass of people outside the ruined building was thinning, sirens still wailing as emergency crew battled around them. The air was thick and wet and smelled saltier than before. She licked her lips nervously. Something was wrong. The water had finally settled, and in the moonlight, was black as death.
"Brennan!"
He was not there.
Her breath kept coming in short pants, and she was vaguely aware of her own mind screaming at her to think. To calm down. But she could not. Her mind felt as if she was trying to run through thick syrup and all she could hear was the single phrase ringing over and over again. It was too late. Panic tried to strangle her, and her chest seized as if being crushed by a giant hand. She had to slow down. She to calm herself down before she failed Brennan. A wail of despair tried to break free and out of reflex, she tried to hold it back. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to give in, give up, give him over.
Fury and terror ignited.
Be damned if she would.
She slammed past an approaching figure, her father she would later realize, at the moment seeing nothing more than an obstacle as she threw herself past the yellow caution tape and headed for the ruined remains. She had to find him. She had to find him before it was too late.
The first thing Shalimar saw in the scorched lobby was the blood. It splashed like paint splatters on the beach and spilled over into the water. A red hand print smeared the blackened wall. She groaned, nostrils flaring. The blood wasn't his, but his smell was there. She bent over, resting her hands on her thighs, breathing deeply. It's not his blood. The thought didn't make her feel any better. She pressed her lips together, doing an abrupt about face. It was darker near the water, the cooler temperature of the water colliding with the slightly warmer air and misty fog hung heavy just beyond the far side of the building. Mist. Her eyes locked onto it. Thick and murky over the sleeping ocean like a blanket sliding up to suffocate everything, even the billowing smoke of the fire. Fear coursed through her, heart slamming erratically in her chest. It's not the same. Despite the knowledge, she couldn't forget the dread, the memory. It was coming in fast. And Brennan was gone.
"BRENNAN!"
She leapt from the remains of the lobby, sprinting away just as the fog overtook her. One moment emergency lights pierced the smoky night, and the next moment everything was dark. The damp air choked her. There was no sound, save her own ragged breath.
"BREENNNAANN!"
"Shalimar?" His voice was distant and strained, and it came from her left.
She reached her hands out into the blackness and called his name as if it were a lifeline. Her knuckles hit the rough bark of a scorched tree, cracking and jamming in on themselves, causing her to cry out.
"Shalimar?" The pitch in his voice rose with concern.
"Brennan, over here!" She tried again to feel for him, walking blindly with her hands outstretched, her normal nocturnal senses scrambled by the smoke and the fog. His scent was strong, masked with the sharper tang of blood, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. "Where are you!" A hand came out of nowhere and grasped her wrist before it slipped down to her palm and squeezed. It was sticky. "Brennan?"
"It's me, Shal." He tugged her hand and pulled her beside him. His teeth were chattering. "I wa--was trying to help a few people find a missing co-worker."
His arm was just as sticky as his hand. "Brennan, what is this?" She played a little with the tackiness at his wrist.
"Uh," She could almost hear his face twist as he tried to dodge her question. "I—it's nothing. Where are the others?"
"Brennan, it's all over you." She placed a hand on his back to help guide him forward. He could see even less than she could.
He swayed a little off balance. "I'm fine."
She clutched him tighter as he stumbled, alarm bells going off in her head. Everything in her told him he was far from fine. The stickiness went all the way up his arm. "Brennan? Is this blood?"
He sighed, tripping over a cement curb. She reached out to catch him, fear rising anew when she felt the weakness in his body, the trembles running deep. He was going into shock. A flash of burning cold ripped through Shalimar's body, searing through her very bones, melting just as suddenly as she rammed into something solid in the darkness. She gasped, stumbling back, left with tingles and painful pinpricks. Her knees threatened to buckle for half a second, but she righted herself and plotted on, desperate to get them back to the others.
When they finally reached the taped-off zone, flashing red lights again pierced the fog. A few more steps and blinding overhead lights broke through, shining brightly. Brennan threw up his hand in reactionary instinct, quickly realizing it was real light and not the one of his dreams. Wetness soaked his shirt, the moist air and thick smoke catching in his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. When they stopped at last, he was panting, on the verge of hyperventilation.
Shalimar wasn't doing much better.
Blood.
Blood was everywhere.
"Brennan!"
She heard Emma's gasp of shock.
His arms, his chest, his neck and chin; his hands and middle and everywhere she'd touched him. Even his pale face was smeared with the countless attempts at wiping it away. A sheen of sweat was forming on his forehead. Not even Adam's gunshot wounds had bled with the volume of blood he was covered in. She didn't know what to do, the edge of the abyss slamming cruelly open and laughing in her ear.
She panicked.
The low growl that escaped her lips caught Brennan's dazed attention above the wail of the sirens. Even from where he stood next to her, the garish lights picked out the terror-driven desperation on her face. "Shal?" He blinked, staring at her.
She said nothing.
The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and he drew a long, shaky breath as Nicholas Fox came to a stop a few feet behind them. Emma clutched Jesse's hand, standing tiredly next to him, face wreathed in pain. He had the fleeting thought of how hard it must be for her to be around all these people when he looked back at Shalimar and forgot everything else. She still had not moved, content to do nothing more than study him with wide, fathomless eyes. Brennan frowned as he turned to grab her shoulders, shaking her slightly, more easily recognizing the glassy expression this time and the way she seemed unable to do anything more than visually examine every inch of his body as if she were committing it to memory. "Shal, it's ok, it's not my blood. I'm here." He spoke slowly, carefully. "I'm here, I'm right here." His voice cracked, not quite able to hide the emotion. He caught Emma's eye as she stepped up, placing a gentle hand on Shalimar's shoulder, a shimmering wave stretching between them for a brief moment. When Shalimar finally blinked, his shoulders relaxed in relief, Emma supporting the feral as she slumped back.
Over her shoulder, her father stood motionless, his face a chaotic mixture of anger, terror, and annoyance as he stared first at his daughter and then at Brennan and Emma. "What the hell's wrong with her?"
"Nothing." Shalimar cleared her throat, answering for herself, a hint of red high on her cheeks, head down in acute embarrassment as she pulled away from Emma.
"Hey," Brennan caught her chin, wincing when his touch left a smear of blood on her pale skin.
She stared at him, at the blood on his hands as he dropped them to his sides, slowly reaching out and running a finger up his arm and to his shoulder. He stood still, letting her examine him, understanding her need to touch him, to feel him. His t-shirt seemed to frustrate her as she tried to examine his collarbone, and he didn't resist when she tugged the bloodied garment over his head and dropped it at her feet. Her father stood in shocked silence not twenty feet away. But all he saw was the catalogue of horrors swimming in her eyes.
She had seen him die.
Horribly.
Her hands swept across the clean, unbroken skin of his stomach.
"Shal?" He finally whispered her name.
"I'm sorry." She trembled. "I just—the fire and the blood—" She suddenly met his eyes, one hand reaching out blindly, and he caught it, placing her palm gently against his face. Her answering whisper was broken. "I—I was too late—again."
"I know." His own voice was hoarse and low.
She found the tears then, eyes filling, refusing to fall. They came, not from fear, but because he had not tried to tell her that it was just a dream. That it had not been real. That it was just imagination.
He understood too well.
The abyss was a construct of imagination, born from terrible reality, becoming its own reality in imagination. And in it, she had seen him die.
Just as he had seen her die over and over again as well.
She brushed her fingers over his lips as his fingers dug into his shoulders.
"Shal—" He reached for her when her hand pulled back abruptly.
"I'm fine." She bit her lip, voice gruff with shame. "Just dancing on the edge again, Brennan."
His thumb traced the sensitive underside of her wrist. "Don't fall."
She smiled slightly, turning her wrist so their hands were palm to palm, silently studying the difference in shape and size for a long moment, marveling at the different shades of strength in each. She interlaced their fingers, feeling every muscle in his hand flex as his fingers tightened around hers. Then she met the shocked gaze of her father standing alone a few yards behind them.
"Never."
They turned their back on it all.
Leaving the fire and destruction, the pain and the fear, they walked hand in hand toward the helix without another word.
For all the emotional havoc of the day, that was the hardest thing of all for Nicholas Fox. They had almost disappeared into the smoky darkness before the man finally found his voice. "What the hell was that?"
Jesse ignored him as Emma's hands started to shake, overwhelmed by emotion. Not completely sure how she would react, he reached a hand slowly out toward her. Her eyes dropped to it, a measure of reality and relief. Her body shuddered as she drew in a long sharp breath, grabbing his hand in a painful grip.
"She lost it." Nicholas still stared after them. "And he just stood there and let her. I don't understand—"
Emma's grip gentled at Jesse's involuntary grunt, hooking her other arm around Jesse's waist, pausing, face lifting to the older man as she gave him the answer.
"Because it's her."
And that just about summed it up.
In all the world, there was only one her.
And there was only them.
Watching each other.
"And because if you make a mistake, someone dies." Emma held Nicholas' eyes, the brutal truth held open on her face. She almost saw understanding in the answering twitch of his eyes. Almost. But not quite. "That mistake will not be each other."
For a split second, Nicholas did not react. Then startled eyes looked into blue. Searching. And the psionic finally saw him comprehend that the irrational fear he had witnessed was not about just about love or family. It was about choices.
You can only take one bullet.
Shalimar had chosen hers.