Odd question: I'm debating rewriting the entire series. Not changing anything, but just the way I wrote some things makes me wince now. Updating, I suppose. The other half of me wants to keep it the way it is, because it has its own charm. I'm on the fence about it. Should I rewrite it? If so, should I just update the chapters here, or post it elsewhere, so this version can remain the same?

I don't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. It you don't recognize it, it's probably mine.


"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity"

Sun-Tzu


Douglas

He was pretty sure Tasha – and at least two of his guards - thought he was crazy.

Their hands were bound, he had four gunmen on a hair trigger, they were being marched straight back to Mission Creek, and he couldn't stop smiling. Kevin was on the other end of this trip, and if he could just get to his boyfriend, he could work things out from there. Them dragging Tasha along was a kink in the hose, but he could work with it. It wasn't like she was an idiot.

More importantly, he was right about the desk clerk. He would love to see the look on Donald's face when Tasha backed him up this time. See if his brother called him irrational again!

Douglas resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. He didn't doubt that their absence had been noticed by now. Knowing his brother, Donald was likely trying to track them down already. Yahn would be helping as much as possible, too. With his sensitive nose, it wouldn't be a shock if at least one person was hot on their heels by now. If they were lucky, a bionic someone would be on their heels.

It would be nice if Bree was still around to speed people to where they needed to go.

Douglas hoped that when their rescue party arrived, they at least let Douglas demand some answers. He doubted James – or anyone else – would talk without a bit of force involved.

Douglas shifted his gaze to the side a bit to see where Tasha was. He managed to get them to treat her with some dignity, at least. She didn't have guns aimed at her. She got to walk outside of the ring of guards, right beside James. She didn't look comfortable by a long shot, and she kept giving him pointed looks, but at least she wasn't as much of a target. So long as she didn't blow their cover story, she would be okay. He wasn't worried they would die before they got to Mission Creek – these guys had gone through a lot of trouble to get hold of him – but he wasn't so sure that he wouldn't get his ass kicked a few times. The knot on his forehead was testament enough to that.

They hadn't hurt Tasha, though, so that was better than he could have hoped. He was pretty sure that she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time when they nabbed him. If he had been in charge of a kidnapping that caught an extra person, said extra person would have been shot just to spare himself the effort. Tasha being a "victim" of his was likely saving her life right now.

Douglas let himself focus on the horizon again. They wouldn't see Mission Creek for another day or two, at least. They had time for things to change. Time for Donnie to catch up. Time for these guys to mess up in one way or another. Time for something else to happen.

Time for him to figure out exactly what that smudge in the distance was.

He stopped whistling, squinting at the little speck he could see in the distance. His smile dropped away at last. He couldn't make out any details, really. An abandoned car, maybe? A burnt tree? This far from Mission Creek, he couldn't see how it would be any of those, but you never knew. Maybe someone else was walking to Los Angeles? If they crossed paths, it might be three against four instead of two. That would be better. He was pretty sure he could take a couple of them out on his own. The guy he killed back in the sewer when they were first captured had gone down so easily. Granted, he was perfection incarnate when it came to fighting, but it wouldn't hurt to have backup. He wasn't confident in Tasha's skills, but after she took the Arm of Raziel to Krane in Marino, Italy, and decked Sandra, he didn't want to underestimate her. She had a fighter in there somewhere. This situation should be enough to drag it out.

James was the one he would have to worry about, really. The guy seemed just as resourceful as Douglas, with an extra dose of…how to describe it? Anger at the world, he supposed? It was a smoldering rage of some kind, but Douglas couldn't tell the source of it. Maybe he wanted vengeance for something? He didn't know. All he could tell was that James was motivated by something big, something that made him desperate to get his way. For someone supposed to protect the world from demons and Summoners, he looked ready to shoot Tasha just to get Douglas under control. That glint in his eye had just been too familiar. It was a big reason why Douglas had surrendered. James wasn't bluffing.

A desperate man with a reason was always more dangerous. If Douglas was right, James had nothing to lose here. Douglas had people James could use as a leash. As long as Tasha was at risk, he wouldn't fight as hard. Kevin back in Mission Creek was a deterrent to plot their escape too seriously. He would need at least one of them alive, and that one couldn't be James.

He drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. He could get them out of this. He was Douglas Davenport, after all. What couldn't he do? He just needed more options than he had right now. He needed to know what that travelling smudge in the distance was. He needed to know where Kevin was, so Douglas could bring him out of that ruin of a city, where it was safe. He needed James out of the picture. He needed just a split-second of opportunity, and things would be okay.

Douglas started whistling again. A guard to his left gave him a sideways look, something that drew the smile back out. They had the upper hand, for now, but they wouldn't for long. Not if he had anything to say about it.


We're momentary masters. We're false kings and bastards.

Poets of the Fall, "My Dark Disquiet"


Bree

Mors stopped showing up eventually.

Bree didn't know what she did wrong. Was she not improving fast enough? Did he think she was hopeless? Was it even her? Did Apollyon do something to keep him away? She couldn't be sure. She couldn't even ask about it. Apollyon would lie to her, and Chase was little better than Apollyon's puppet most of the time. Sure, she could draw him out with questions or reminiscing about their life back at home. There were moments, just moments, where his eyes would clear, and he would actually see her. Would actually talk to her.

Those fleeting moments were just that: fleeting. It didn't take long for Apollyon to take hold of him again. An ache settled in her heart every time his eyes glossed over again, every single time he lost grip with reality, every single time he recognized her, then instantly forgot her. She hated it, but craved it all the same. Chase was all she had left in this world. If she had only seconds with him when she managed to draw him out, they were seconds she would cherish. Seconds she would chase down, cling to with every fiber of her being.

Bree threw a crown into a pile, glaring at Apollyon's tail as he disappeared down the tunnel leading to the cave entrance. She ground her teeth when one of the heads laughed.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She hadn't asked to be thrown into this hellhole of a world. She hadn't asked for Chase to be trapped here, too. She hadn't asked to go traipsing across the land without her bionics only to wind up in the lair of the most powerful demon to ever exist. She hadn't asked to have her brother turned into a shell right before her eyes. There was something about the absolute control Apollyon exerted over him that made her skin crawl. It was like the Triton App all over again, and she was just as helpless against it now as she was back then. Leo had talked Chase down, but she couldn't do that for more than a moment at a time.

Bree picked up a large platter and set it across her lap, rubbing its surface with more force than she needed to. It wasn't like she couldn't see her reflection in it already. She had spent a crazy amount of time getting the grime off of it when she first arrived. Silver, she guessed, if nothing else in here was touching it. Why Apollyon would have silver in his pile of treasure, she couldn't begin to understand.

She huffed out a sigh, letting her rag go still as her gaze focused on her reflection again. Really, she wouldn't be caught dead in public looking the way she did. Strands of hair stuck to her sweat-soaked face or were a frizzy, disheveled mess. There was no middle ground. She leaned in a bit. God, her bangs had grown out. How long had they been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Her face had smudges of soot and dirt. If there was one thing she would kill for, it was a shower. She could sure use it.

In the background, she saw Chase climbing a pile of treasure, his half-tail flicking back and forth and his ears pinned. She frowned at that. Those were usually signs of discontent, but he wasn't lucid enough to feel that…was he? Or was he aware enough to know what was happening? Was he locked inside, screaming to get out now? Had he figured out Apollyon's game at last? Did he know that voice inside his head wasn't his own? Maybe that was why he could bubble to the surface sometimes; he was fighting. Could he be fighting? Bree looked over her shoulder at him. His wings flicked out so he could balance. Maybe she could get him to resist Apollyon's control long enough for…something. Getting out of the cave, at least. Long enough to maybe find their way home? That would be nice.

Bree set the platter down, and reached for her sword. Wherever they wound up going, she was taking it with her. Apollyon be damned, this blade felt like it was made for her. If no demon wanted to touch it, then it belonged to someone who wasn't a demon, right? That made enough sense to her. So far as she knew, she was the only human in the entire Otherworld.

A sudden intake of breath caught her attention. Her head shot up to see the demons near her scurrying away. She frowned at that and gathered her legs up under her. They never did that before. She stood up with a grunt, holding the sword with the point towards the ground. What was happening? She furrowed her brow and looked over her shoulder. Chase was facing her now, still halfway up the treasure pile and crouched low. His tail was lashing now, his fangs bared.

Bree turned fully towards him, taking a step back. "Chase?"

He let out a low growl. His eyes narrowed, a terrifying effect with his slit pupils. "I've had enough of you, human!"

The only signal Bree got was the ethereal glow around Chase's fingers. She yelped, jumping to the side just as a bolt of white energy shot towards her. She sucked in a breath, raising her sword. That wasn't Chase. He wouldn't attack her like that. No, Apollyon was trying to get rid of her now using the one person there she couldn't attack. She could hear the thunder of massive paws in the tunnel, coming to make sure Chase was successful.

As for Chase himself, he hopped off the treasure pile and landed gracefully on the cave floor, his hands glowing again. Bree's stomach dropped as she raised the sword again, this time with shaking hands. She didn't want to have this kind of fight with anyone, let alone her brother. The only way it could end was with someone dead.