Disclaimer: Have you ever heard of writers block? It's a very dangerous illness I've been having for a few days now…
Chapter Three: Family Bonds
Tressa-Ca the Echidna didn't know what time it was; it could have been day or night, raining or snowing, she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered to her right now was the wounded and bleeding male she was kneeling next to.
Spectre had managed to sit against the metallic wall thanks to his efforts and his wife's help. He was now conscious; awfully aware actually of the searing pain burning in his wide open wounds. The black echidna could now breathe rather normally although his head was spinning like mad. And when Tressa put a caring hand on Spectre's forehead, she found out her husband was getting a fever. She then tried to make him sleep but Spectre wouldn't allow it; either he was too worried or pain was keeping him from dozing off.
Thunderhawk wasn't helping matters. He was sitting next to Spectre against the wall, his little head resting against his father's good side. The boy was tightly squeezing Spectre's flesh hand in both of his. But Tressa couldn't blame their son for showing concern; she was at least as worried as Thunderhawk was.
"Spectre," she said softly as she slipped her hand behind his head to relieve his tired neck. She inwardly winced when she felt the torn and raw flesh under her fingers, but Tressa cast that thought aside and gently smiled. "You should really sleep, now. You need rest."
Spectre only managed to grunt something, but Tressa knew him enough to know it had been a negative response. She sighed; she'd known, long before they even married, that Spectre was stubborn when it came to important things. That was a part of him she had learned to appreciate at times and dislike at others such as now.
As for Spectre… let's say he was in a semi-conscious state. Part of him wanted to sleep and possibly never wake up whereas another screamed at him to stay awake and alert – though he couldn't do much in this state were their captors to come back. He just had to protect Tressa and Thunderhawk, he had sworn it many times and not only in his marriage vows. And it wouldn't be told he had given up without a fight.
The black male closed his tired eyes just as the now all too familiar sound of a metallic door sliding open was heard. Spectre couldn't help but groan, for he knew without his sight who was now standing in front of the cell. As Tressa softly shushed her husband down, Lien-Da began to speak. "So, handsome, still recovering?" She giggled when the said echidna growled. "That's what I thought. But anyway I'm not here for you this time."
Spectre didn't even have time to register what she had said: the red female was in the cell in an instant, and grabbed Tressa's arm.
"Come on, pretty face. My brother wants to see you."
Spectre growled menacingly as Thunderhawk clung to him even more, frightened. He had the feeling he knew what Kragok wanted to see Tressa for, yet he couldn't do much in his current state. Spectre's anger grew, directed towards himself and his helplessness. Even lifting a hand to cradle his son's head was causing him intense pain.
Tressa followed Lien-Da with no resistance; she knew that if she refused to cooperate, the female Legionnaire would take her anger out on Spectre and Thunderhawk. So she just compelled, trying not to look back at the two boys she loved more than anything else in the world. The female kept telling herself she was protecting them; but still, as she stepped out of the cell, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned. Tressa saw her lavender boy nestled in Spectre's clothes and looking up at his father. "Dad, is Mom going to be all right?"
Spectre never answered. He just put his hand on his son's head and stared at his wife. Tressa gave him a weak smile before she was roughly pulled out of the prison bay.
That's when she felt fear. Fear of what Kragok wanted to see her for.
As soon as Tressa-Ca was out of the prison bay, Thunderhawk closed his eyes and buried his head in Spectre's side, squeezing his father's black robes for all he was worth.
Spectre found himself unable to comfort his son; telling him things would be all right would be lying, but the Guardian couldn't bring himself to voice dark thoughts now. So he just caressed Thunderhawk's back and head soothingly. "Ssh, calm down, son," Spectre whispered softly.
"What are they going to do to Mom?" the boy whimpered. "I'm scared, Dad. I-I just don't want Mom to get hurt! What are they going to do, Dad?"
Spectre was about to answer on impulse when he suddenly remembered that Thunderhawk was only six years old. Almost seven. And his innocent soul had already seen so much awful things it would be the last straw to tell him what an evil male would want to do when alone with a female. "I don't know, Thunderhawk," he reluctantly lied. "I really don't know."
"But… these two soldiers… What did they want from you, Dad?"
Spectre winced; he'd seen that question coming from a mile away. "Nothing, son. They just wanted me to tell them where Haven is, that's all." He decided not to add anything about Lien-Da wanting to sleep with him and instead set for a weak smile. "But they couldn't make it through your old man."
A brief smile flashed across the boy's features, but then he nodded and closed his eyes once again. Spectre ran his flesh fingers through Thunderhawk's dark lavender hair. His son should as well sleep, he needed all the rest he could get.
But then the metallic door slid open with a mechanical hiss. Can't they lock that thing for Edmund's sake? To Spectre's dismay this was Lien-Da once again… only now she was alone. "Where is Tressa?" he asked angrily.
"Your whore? She's with my brother." The red female smirked evilly. "The lucky dog. Kragok might just get some Legionnaires to come over."
Spectre felt rage beginning to built up in his heart, but he decided not to lash out in front of Thunderhawk, who was now awake and staring rather nervously at Lien-Da. Although he was utterly furious and disgusted he managed to keep up a stoic face. Only his bloody red eyes reflected the rage he felt within.
Lien-Da looked down at Thunderhawk, now frowning. "I'm still wondering how you were able to have a kid, Spectre. Is your female blind or something?"
Spectre growled and pulled his young son even closer. "Well, at least I was and am able to have and love a child. Which isn't the same for everybody as it seems."
"This can be easily corrected, Guardian."
"Not even in your wildest dreams," Spectre hissed.
"Dad, what is she talking about?" Thunderhawk asked innocently as he looked up at his father.
"Nothing worth your attention, my son," Spectre said rather calmly considering the situation. He released the iron-like grip he didn't know he's been maintaining on Thunderhawk. "You can sleep. I won't let her do you any harm, I promise."
The young echidna, although eyeing Lien-Da from the corner of his eye, rested his little head on his father's chest and attempted to sleep. Lien-Da smiled in mock awe. "Isn't it cute? A real father-son moment. The boy is so naïve he believes every word his father tells him. Hmm, I wonder what it would be like to hold him and pat him," she suddenly said.
"If you lay a finger on him, you're dead," Spectre spat protectively. He couldn't bear the thought of that… madwoman mistreating his son. Or abusing him for that matter.
"Like you can do something to stop me."
"Haven't you got someone else to bother? Why don't you go and "have fun" with some Legionnaire?" Now Spectre was literally fuming with rage; they could do whatever they wanted to him but Chaos help them if they dared to touch his Thunderhawk.
"Nope, I'll wait until Kragok is done with your female then we'll see," she smirked.
Thunderhawk squeezed his father's arm harder; he hadn't quite understood what that woman had said, but from the way Spectre stiffened he could tell it was bad. Very, very bad.
There are different kinds of bombs. First there is the one that blows up immediately, powerfully deadly. This one causes surprise and pain, although sometimes the first overcomes the second and when you realize what's happening, it's already too late.
Then, there is the one that takes its time, as deadly as the previous one but more painful. It eats you up slowly, ever so slowly, until the suffering leaves you begging or dying. Or both.
Finally, there is the vicious one. You know it's there, somewhere, but you don't know where nor when it's going to blow up. Worst of all, you know that you will feel pain, when the time comes, but the problem is, you don't know when and it frightens you. No matter how long you wait, you don't know when until you die.
The latest could apply to the situation Tressa-Ca was in. She was actually standing in a dark room, as she has been doing since Lien-Da led her in, fifteen minutes before. The darkness was so thick she couldn't make out walls, furniture, or anything else for that matter. Surely nobody was there, this was just another trick to scare her and-
"Hello, my dear," a deep raspy voice suddenly said from somewhere to her left. Tressa jumped nearly out of her skin at the voice and turned around, scanning the darkness but still unable to see through it.
"Who is there?" she asked in a frightened voice. She began fidgeting nervously when she heard feet padding on the ground and clothes rustling. Somebody else was there, but she couldn't see where he – a male certainly, by the sounds of it – was. She knew nothing about him, expect for the fact that he was Lien-Da's brother. "Who are you?"
"That, my female friend, is none of your business," the voice sweetly said. The male seemed closer now.
"I think it is," Tressa retorted, determined not to let herself be scared off. "After all you dragged me here and I'd like to know who you are, and why I am here." She did her best to hide her fear but her voice still held some hints of her frightened state.
"Because I need you, dear," the guttural voice growled right in her right ear. She gave off a startled cry at the proximity of the male, but then felt two hands circle her waist and held her in place. No wait… not two hands… a hand and some mechanical implant. "You're the only one who can do what I have planned."
The female took a big breath to try and calm down. She had the horrible feeling she knew what he had planned to do. Tressa was about to push him away to escape when he spoke again. "No, dear, I know what you are thinking. I won't lower myself to that, mark my words." Tressa felt relieved but confused at the same time; what did he want then? "However there are others who might, so you have better obey my orders for your sake."
An uncomfortable silence set in the dark room, and Tressa could almost hear the grin in the male's words when he pursued. "Very well. Now listen carefully; I want you to go back to wherever Haven is. And no, I haven't placed any sensor on you, I won't track you down to know where that forsaken base is. I don't need to. I just want you to inform the Brotherhood of Guardians that I have their current Guardian and his offspring in my clutches. Yes, you have understood, I will force the Brotherhood to reveal itself to me unless they want their Guardians killed."
Tressa asked the first thing that came to her mind: "Will you harm Spectre and Thunderhawk if I do as you tell?" But she then realized the full stupidity of that question; if the Legion wanted to capture the entire Brotherhood of Guardians it certainly wasn't to go on a picnic… no the Dark Legion wanted to kill the Guardians. All of them, and her husband and son were no exception. Which was how she could tell her captor's next words were lies.
"Of course, my dear, I won't even lay a finger on them. You have my words. But if the Brotherhood is not mine within the week, they're both as good as dead. Make sure you tell the others Guardians that as well."
The door opened, bringing in little light, and the Legionnaire released the grip he had been maintaining on Tressa. And before she was out, she heard his deep voice again. "Remember… Within the week;"
Two days. Spectre couldn't believe it has been two whole days since they were captured. Besides his injuries the Guardian mainly suffered from boredom and anguish; after all he still didn't know what had happened to Tressa-Ca. Not to mention Thunderhawk was more nervous than ever, and couldn't help but squeak each time a Legionnaire entered in the prison bay.
But all of these times, nothing ever happened. Still recovering from his two days old wounds, Spectre wondered why they had stopped torturing him all of the sudden. Not that he minded, far from it actually, but he thought maybe this had something to do with Tressa's disappearance. Maybe they're torturing her instead of me, he thought angrily. Those ill-brained bastards! Wait until I get my hands on them and I'll-
And you'll what? another voice, older than his own, rang in his head. It seemed familiar, and Spectre's eyes lit up when he recognized it.
Grandfather Rembrandt! Is it really you?
You bet it is. Now listen; you're going to tell me exactly where you are and things will be all right.
Spectre frowned in confusion. The mental link was so strong and clear it sounded like his fifth-father was standing only some feet away from him. Fifth-father, what do you mean? You can't possibly be… around here, right?
I'll explain later, for now just… oh crap…
As the mental contact broke, Spectre heard a commotion from outside the prison bay; shouts, gunshots and screams. He could as well hear some Legionnaires hurrying down the corridor, with soft or metallic padding of feet depending on the person. The dark male caught some orders being yelled by a high-ranked soldier, then several gunshots rang through all the base only to stop brutally.
Spectre winced inwardly. Please, don't let it be Fifth-father… Oh please don't let it be him… But his prayers stayed unanswered as, seconds later, the mechanical door of the prison bay slid open to allow entrance to two Legionnaires… carrying one wounded and bleeding Rembrandt. Thunderhawk gasped upon seeing his ancestor who was roughly pushed in the cell next to Spectre and Thunderhawk's. "That makes another Guardian," a Legionnaire smirked. "At that rate we'll have the others by the end of the week for sure!"
"You bet," the other replied. They burst out laughing a very creepy laugh as they walked off.
Spectre struggled his way to the bars in between his and Rembrandt's cells. Fortunately, those weren't electrical; what use would it be anyway? The dark male grasped the metallic bars and looked at his fifth-father. The said echidna was currently lying on his left side, facing him. Blood was flowing out of his mouth and from a wound to his right shoulder, probably caused by some gunshot Spectre had heard earlier. The red liquid was quickly forming a big pool on the hard metallic floor, which alarmed Spectre. "Fifth-father," he called, panic edging in his voice. "Fifth-father, please wake up! Come on, open your eyes!"
The elder male seemed to hear him because after a few seconds he weakly opened one eye. "Spectre?" he whispered. "Is that you? Edmund, my head hurts." Rembrandt winced and tried to sat up, which he managed to do after some struggling. He brought his hands to his head and massaged his skull. "That darn Legionnaire knocked me out before I had the chance to do anything. I guess I'm just getting old."
"No, Fifth-father, you're not getting old. They're just much younger, that's all," Spectre responded, offering a weak smile to accompany his lame attempt at humor.
"Whatever you say. It's a pity I got caught, though, it'll take me longer to get all of us out of there."
"How did you know we were there?" Spectre asked seriously as Thunderhawk came to sit next to his father. "And most of all, why are you alone?"
"Well, the Brotherhood got your wife's message, so I was pretty sure I would find you there. And I'm alone because the others wouldn't come; you know your grandfathers, they don't want to "put themselves into trouble" as they like to put it. They didn't believe for one second that the Dark Legion would actually kill you, but I can assure you I know better-"
"Hold on, hold on," Spectre said, raising a hand. "My wife's message? What do you mean?"
"It's as simple as that; yesterday Tressa-Ca arrived in Haven and filled us in about what had happened to you," Rembrandt explained very quickly, making big gestures with his hands. "How come you didn't know?"
"You mean, she's at Haven? Safe and secure?" Spectre felt a burst of hope in his heart: Tressa was all right!
Rembrandt blinked a few times and leaned forwards a little. "Do I have to spell it out to you, Fifth-son?"
The dark Guardian released a deep relieved sigh as Thunderhawk grinned. "Mom is all right!" the boy said happily. "You heard that, Dad, Mom is all right! Is she hurt? Is she still in Haven?" the lavender echidna asked his sixth-father.
"You'll see for yourself in a few hours, for I have come to get you – actually us, but I didn't plan to get caught – out of there." At his sons' confused stares Rembrandt brought a pack out of his vest pocket. "I may not be a professional, but I learned enough from Hawking to know how to deactivate an electrical shield. Trust me and in a few seconds we'll be out and escaping."
As his fifth-father fumbled in his miniature pack to find the tool he needed, Spectre looked at him in confusion. One hour ago he thought everything was lost and had no hope left, and now he was told Tressa was safe and that there was a way to escape. No, it couldn't be, there had to be a catch. "And how are you planning to escape? We can't possibly casually walk out of there without getting caught."
"I'm aware of that," Rembrandt answered as he finally gave up on fumbling and emptied the pouch's content onto the floor. Scanning the scattered tools, he picked up a wire-cutter and some laser metal-cutter. Spectre watched as his ancestor made his way towards the wall. "There is an emergency exit just a few feet down the corridor, to the left. It leads to a forest, where we could easily lost pursuers should we need it. As for the Legionnaires in the corridor, I can only sense three of them, maybe four. All we have to do is blast them and off we go."
Spectre called on his Emerald powers, and nodded when he only felt three Legionnaires keeping guard in the corridor. "Those crazed fools," he heard Rembrandt chuckle. "What good could it do them to have the best technology ever imagined of the world if they leave control panels inside the cells." Rembrandt chuckled some more and turned his laser on and began cutting something on the wall. Now that Spectre realized it there was one small panel, hardly the size of his hand, on the metallic wall. He quickly scanned his own cell and soon found a similar panel, this one on the ground in the corner.
After some time of cutting, Rembrandt turned the laser off and detached a rectangular piece of metal from the wall. He gathered his tools and held out his wire-cutter before grinning in Spectre and Thunderhawk's direction. "Gentlemen, liberty is ours." Grasping his wounded shoulder to support his right arm, Rembrandt leaned over the bunch of multicolored wires that were once hidden under the panel. But then he frowned and studied the wired more closely. "Looks like I talked too fast once again."
"What? What's wrong?" Spectre asked, concerned.
"I can't deactivate all of the electrical shields from here. Apparently each shield is controlled individually from the cell it circles. I can't deactivate your shield by deactivating my own."
"That's not a real problem, you'll just have to give me your tools and I'll take care of the shield in my cell," Spectre suggested.
"I'm afraid you won't be able to," Rembrandt said slowly. "I see there that the red wire is the one controlling the shield system. Unfortunately, it is also part of the alarm system, so if I cut the red wire…"
"You'll turn alarms on," Spectre finished for him, losing hope once again.
"Not exactly," his fifth-father corrected him. "The alarm system is so important it is divided into two wires. By cutting one of them, I'm messing with the alarms' time of reaction. Which means alarms will rang at any moment. We would be out and already far away when they do as well as I wouldn't be able to deactivate your shield." Rembrandt sadly turned towards Spectre. "I don't know if it's a risk worth taking."
"Every risk is worth taking, now," Spectre muttered. "Do your best."
Rembrandt nodded and got back to work. In two snips the electrical shield was taken care of, and the brown echidna took a deep breath. "Now the real challenge begins." He promptly took his laser once again and began to cut one of the non-electrified bars. One should do it, I'm not that fat. Stressed out, and while seconds were elapsing in his mind, Rembrandt managed to cut the bar in ten minutes. "It'll be tough, but I think I'll have time to disconnect your shield as well."
But as the elder echidna walked towards the in between bars of the two cells, sparks began to crept out of the cut down wires. Rembrandt gave off an alarmed look and nervously turned to Spectre. "Me and my big mouth. The alarms will turn on anytime now."
To his amazement, Spectre only nodded calmly. How his fifth-son managed to keep a straight face when everything was crumbling down was beyond him. "All right. Run away, Fifth-father, but I ask you a favor." Spectre kneeled and placed his hands on Thunderhawk's shoulders. "Take my son with you."
The dark male pushed the lavender boy forward, and Thunderhawk amazingly was able to slip between two bars being small and thin. He landed right into Rembrandt's arms without registering what had happened, and turned to his father with surprise on his face. "Dad?"
"Take him home, Fifth-father," Spectre said calmly.
"I can't leave you alone here, Spectre!" Rembrandt replied, holding Thunderhawk close. "I promised myself I would bring you back home! I promised myself I wouldn't let another member of my family die like Aaron and Jordan did!"
"And I promised myself I wouldn't let my son die," Spectre whispered quietly. He looked down, but when he raised his eyes towards Rembrandt, they held no fear, no weakness. Just plain and hard determination. "Both of you escaping is better than the three of us dying. Go, Grandfather, and tell Tressa I love her."
Thunderhawk, still in Rembrandt's arms, listened to the exchange between the two males and suddenly got scared. "Dad, what are you saying? You're coming with us, right? Dad, please answer me!"
But Spectre wouldn't look at Thunderhawk. He didn't want to see the boy's crystal blue eyes filling up with tears because it might make him shed a few of his own. He knew it was probably the last time they could see each other, that he would probably die at the Legionnaires' hands, but he faced it bravely. Isn't it what a Guardian is supposed to do?
"Goodbye, Fifth-father," he said finally. "And probably farewell."
Rembrandt nodded gravely but as he walked out of his cell towards the mechanical door Thunderhawk began to struggle. "We can't leave him here! Dad, no!" The lavender young echidna began sobbing when his father didn't respond and when his grandfather tightened his hold on him. "Dad, I don't want to leave! I want to stay with you, please Dad listen to me! Dad!"
But his calls were suddenly cut when an awfully loud siren rang through the base. Rembrandt stifled some curses under his breath and, wasting no time, blasted the metallic door away. The last thing Spectre saw of them were Rembrandt's back and Thunderhawk's pleading eyes. The dark male let his head fall in his hands as soon as his grandfather and his son were out of the prison bay. He heard some energy blasts being delivered by Rembrandt, and some strangled noise emitted by Legionnaires as they died. Bodies fell to the ground, and Spectre intercepted screams, shouts, then finally a huge metallic clang.
The Guardian grinned in his hands; his ancestor had blasted the exit door.
Just outside the prison bay, Legionnaires were running wildly as the siren kept on screaming. Spectre caught fragments of phrases such as "He's getting away!" or "After him!", but he wasn't phased by them. He knew his fifth-father and his son were already far, far away from the Dark Legion.
As his grin widened, Spectre chuckled. Hell was over for his wife and son, but had just begun for him.