Horrideously late update, I'm aware....trying to fundraise for my move to a volunteer center in Vera Cruz, Mexico (it's not going very well). Anyway, managed to cough this baby out. So please review it for me and enjoy it!
-- Tyler
"You know, this is a hundred percent illegal." Normal ranted flatly from his position bound to a chair inside a darkened room, underneath the glare of a single spotlight flooding down on him. "Whatever illicit operation you got goin' on here's not gonna involve me or my staff. We're fully covered by our constitutional rights here."
"Is that so?" Ames White's smirk was bordering on a grimace as he paced slowly around the chair to which Normal was tied, hands clasped firmly at the small of his back, "Because I think you'll find, if you stop to ask yourself a simple question, you might want to rethink your stance."
"Really? And what question might that be?" Normal was less then fazed by the third-degree, apparently (likely he had developed immunity to intimidation due to the fact that he was a carrier of the airborne scourge).
"Where exactly is 'here'?" White raised an eyebrow and his smirk became crooked as he paused directly in front of Normal, "Take a look around, Mr Ronald." He waved a hand absently at the blackness surrounding them, "Do you see civil servants prepared to guard your 'constitutional rights'? You're on your own."
At these words, a band of well-muscled men and women stepped out of the shadows, falling into place behind White with feral gleams dancing in their eyes. Normal's mouth fell open ever so slightly as he recognized the faces of the sudden newcomers.
White's grin completely left his face and a menacing shadow shrouded his countenance as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, "Remember them?"
"Uh, truth be told, we were never formally introduced." Normal stammered slightly, and his heart began to pound in his chest as the tall, red-headed leader of the pack stalked directly towards him. He heard a whooshing noise, a sickening crack, and microseconds later the stinging burn of pain was pouring from his broken nose and dripping onto his slacks.
"That was a 'hello'." The woman stated with a wry smile on her thin, painted lips before bending down and tickling Normal's ear with her breath, "And if you don't start talking fast, you and me are going to have a lengthy conversation in the same language."
Normal felt nausea mounting an offensive in his gut at the throbbing of his nose and took deep, steady breaths to maintain his calm.
The lightbulb above him was buzzing, Normal noticed – the grainy sort of tune that ancient, burned-out bulbs hummed when they were coming to the end of their days.
"Mr. Ronald, meet Thula – Thula, Mr. Ronald." White swept a finger back and forth between the two of them, and Thula's smile widened.
"It's a pleasure."
"All yours." Normal muttered tightly, his gaze focused on the droplets of blood crusting on his beige-colored slacks. Focus, Normal, focus – on anything but them, that is.
"Thula's team leader of the Phalanxes," White informed him as he waved the others forward, "You remember them, I'm sure. Hasn't been that long since they were storming your Podunk little joint and handing you your asses."
"Not the way I recall it goin'." Normal snapped with far more boldness then he felt as he raised his eyes to glare into White's.
Thula's hand clamped down on Normal's shoulder and the strength of her grip would have stunned the man had he not received a slug to the nose from the woman earlier on.
"Oh that's exactly how it was going, Normal…" She paused, "I can call you 'Normal', right? Although," Thula was far too close for comfort as she stroked the back of his head with a mocking sort of tenderness, "you're about as normal as the rest of those cronies who work under you."
"You're clearly a…great judge of character." Normal cringed and shirked away from her uncomfortably as easy breathing became a thing of the past, "Shame you managed to underestimate those cronies working under me though, cuz uh…as I recall, they were the ones handing you your asses."
"452's a menace." White snapped, swiping out a hand to stop Thula in her tracks as the woman lunged forward to attack Normal once more.
"Right, congratulations, you just lost me there." The Ordinary furrowed his eyebrows, and White rolled his eyes.
"Max," He almost spat the name, "as she is now calling herself apparently, is little more then a number. Her barcode's last three digits…"
"452." Normal mused, "It's catchy." Bet she'd find it real aggravating if I called her that…
"…are a representation of what she is." White's tone had thickened with added bite at the interruption, "She's a walking cocktail of DNA, my friend – believe me, she's less human then she is cat."
Normal eyed White sardonically, "Look – when it comes to laying that woman's faults down pat, you're preachin' to the choir here. But if you think I'm gonna let my personal revulsion for Missy Miss endanger the lives of thousands of other people, you've got another thing coming…" Normal's head snapped to the side as Thula's fists swiped across his jaw.
"This is no time for indulging your morals, Mr Ronald." White informed him caustically as he began to circle the man once more, "The safety of the nation is at stake. We're prepared to play dirty here."
"A shocking revelation." Normal spat copper-tasting fluid from his mouth and raised his eyebrows at White's form as it hunched to eye level of him.
"You think you're cute." The man smiled sardonically, "It's endearing in itself, I suppose."
"Yeah well hate to break it to you buddy, but I don't swing that way." Normal stated sourly before rustling up his courage once more, "Only thing you're gonna get outta me is more of my blood at this rate. I told ya once already, I'm not interested in cooperating with your grand scheme for transgenic slaughter."
"Who's talking about slaughter?" White demanded with an innocent arch of his eyebrows.
"Oh I'm sorry…I may have gotten the wrong impression, what with your manifest contempt for America's genetically-enhanced population 'n all." Normal snorted wryly and shifted in his seat in an attempt to avoid the blood dripping from his nose further sullying his trousers. Damn slacks cost him a good buck.
White's petulant sigh didn't bode well (not that the entire situation 'boded' anything but pain and possibly eventual death in Normal's mind), "Fine. We'll do this your way – you issue a statement," Here he reached into his suit jacket and produced a Dictaphone, "about the horrors you underwent, and I'll make sure your friends don't bite the dust."
"No deal." Normal responded in his matter-of-fact drawl, "'My way' would involve you buggerin' off."
White's lips twisted, "Fine." He motioned to Thula and she grinned, disappearing from the room briefly only to return with Original Cindy in tow, thick ropes knotted around her wrists and a gag wrenching at the corners of her lips.
"One of yours, I believe." White seemed amused by the sudden drain of color from Normal's face as Thula shoved OC onto her knees and pressed a .45 against the side of her temple.
"Whoa, okay, let's all just take a deep breath and compose ourselves here!" Normal was clearly staving off panic as Thula flicked the safety off her gun and OC flinched visibly.
"Not as much fun when it's someone else's life on the line, is it now?" White mused belligerently, striding to stand beside OC and place a hand on her shoulder, "Maybe now you're beginning to understand the severity of the situation. I want that statement." The last sentence was uttered forcefully, every syllable enunciated as darkness clouded White's features.
"You're not getting jack from me till every single one o' my workers is released into police custody." Normal raised his voice and followed it up with one of his infamous death glares.
The glare rolled off White's slick exterior like water off a duck's back – but the promise of cooperation on terms that were perfectly acceptable as far as he was concerned caused the Familiar to nod.
"Deal."
"There's a detective – Matt Sung, you know him?"
White's lip curled derisively. Of course he fucking knew him.
"Sure do."
"Arrange for him to pick my team up and once they've flown the coop, you can have your goddamn precious statement." Normal's eyes were glued to OC, who was glancing from him to White with unbridled hatred for the latter flashing in her brown orbs.
White dipped his head in acquiescence, "Glad we've come to an understanding, Normal."
Normal's response was flat and insipid.
"Name's Reagan Ronald, sparky, now get a move on! Bip, bip, bip!"
"Right, dibs on Bad Cop."
Max cast Alec an amused face as he adjusted his leather jacket and ran a hand through his scruffy, honey-colored hair.
"Say what?"
He smirked briefly, "Nothin' – just lead the way."
Max narrowed her eyes at the flippant behavior before she turned her back on him and headed towards the open side gate of TC, heels clicking against the concrete.
"Now come on – and watch your back. These guys are slippery bastards." Max's warning caused his grin to widen and his head to shake briefly as the two X5s stalked to meet the health officials standing outside the gate of TC.
"Miss Guevara." The stout, stocky man clad in a bio-hazard suit nodded at Max before turning his gaze to Alec, "Mr McDowell. I assume you're aware of the purpose of our visit here."
"Aware, yes." Max raised her eyebrows with a dangerous smile as she spread her hands, "In agreement, though? Here's where wires cross."
"Terminal City's been tipped as a potential biohazard for its vicinity."
Alec swallowed a scoff and watched Max judiciously for some cue as she tightened her smile.
"I don't recall your name, Mr…?"
"Harville, Kevin Harville." He extended a gloved hand which Max shook with skepticism ringing on her features, "Health and Safety Officer."
"So what's the deal then?" Max queried, arms folding over her chest despite her best efforts at diplomacy, and Alec noted the subtle shift in body movement which requested his immediate backup, "You cordon off the sector, then what? Blow us up?"
Kevin snorted as Alec moved to stand beside Max, the X5 male's shoulder's squaring in a casual display of the raw prowess Manticore's offspring possessed.
"I'd say it's a little early in the negotiation stage for those sort of accusations, wouldn't you, Miss Guevara?"
"Oh I'm sorry, this is a negotiation?" Alec took his cue flawlessly, his eyebrows arching up sardonically as he made a point of glancing at the ongoing investigation around them, "Cuz uh, from the looks of things, you guys went ahead and got yourselves a warrant."
"Alec." Mac's reprove was as plastic as Alec's caustic aggression, and they both knew it too.
Good cop, bad cop. Max and Alec. Something about their genetic makeup seemed to tirelessly weave the threads of their separate lives into a synergetic tapestry neither of them really understood.
"Last I heard, we were due to meet with the Ministry of Defense to draft up a settlement." Max informed Harville, feeling a shiver run through her body and cursing the jacket which was failing miserably at staving off the winter wind, "Mind telling us what went down with that?"
Harville flashed a wan, diplomatic smile, "I don't know – that's not really my department, is it, Miss Guevara?"
"Neither is interfering in politics in that case, I assume." Alec interjected caustically, brushing the edged of his thumb across the tip of his nose and sniffing disdainfully at the Health official he was dwarfing.
"My field of concern is public safety, Mr McDowell." Harville stated, his face still sporting the same smarmy grin as he spoke.
"And preventing unnecessary conflict is ours." Max's eyes flicked to the group of inspectors ambling to and fro behind the man, "Shutting off the sector when so far there's been no evidence of contamination outside TC's gates could damage our negotiations for a truce with the government…"
"Well that's certainly regrettable." Harville's tone suggested it was nothing of the sort, and Alec's eyes roll full-circle.
"Yeah, and avoidable – so let's just use our diplomatic glands once in this issue, alright?"
Harville snorted, his breath puffing against the visor of his biohazard suit as he did so, "And what would you suggest we do, Mr McDowell? You want my people to pack up and hit the road?"
"Well you could stay for a beer, but I don't see a drinkin' hole in that uh…" Alec's eyebrows scrunched up as he waved a finger at the suit, "whaddya call it, McFly gear you're wearin'?"
Harville blinked, "Not tracking."
"Michael J Fox, Back to the Future?" Alec prodded, "You know, where he wears that freaky suit thingie and convinces his dad to ask Lorraine…" He deflated slightly at the stony expressions both Max and Harville were sending his way, "Talk about no cultural education. Fine then, never mind."
"The situation as it stands, Miss Guevara," Harville focused his attention on Max and made a point of ignoring Alec (which sat just fine with the X5 male), "is that I have instructions to run a scann of the perimeter and determine the toxin levels and their possible spreading capacity. Soon as we're done here, we'll clear on out."
"Great, except you're glossing over the fact that this could seriously hamper the transgenics' negotiating with the government." Max repeated herself with a raise of her eyebrows, and Harville, she noted, had the nerve to shrug obnoxiously.
"Let's hope the results are clean."
"And if they're not?" Max resisted the urge to smack the smug expression of triumph Harville was wearing right off his face and into the nearby gutter…she was playing Good Cop at the moment.
Max cast a sly glance at Alec from the corner of her eye in the hopes he wasn't warding off similar urges. Tragically, the man was wearing his poker face and it was wholly impossible to read.
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?" Harville twisted to look over his shoulder as one of his unit hollered for his assistance, "Right, if you'll excuse me."
"Oh please," Alec held up a hand with a farcical smile and eyebrow-raise, "Get right on with facilitating America's next Civil War…" He coughed as Max jabbed him viciously in the ribs, effectively silencing the rest of his statement.
"We'll be in touch." Max called after Harville, who was already traipsing away from the pair, before she turned and cast Alec the most acerbic glare she had in stock.
"Warmonger."
"Lick-ass."
Both X5s rolled their eyes at the other as they turned and headed back inside TC's walls.
"Hey, are you alright?"
The question threw Max completely off-skelter, and she frowned at Alec as the gate clamped shut behind them.
"Yeah, why?"
He was eyeing Max with a scrutiny she found unnerving, "I dunno. What's goin' on with that rune thing – still hangin' around?"
"If by 'hanging around' you mean are they still there, then…" Max hiked up her sleeves and raised her wrist with a sardonic smile, "yeah."
"Wait a second," Alec reached out and gripped her hand in his, turning it palm-upwards and brushing his fingers across a spinal cord of lettering near Max's elbow, "These are new."
Max felt the warmth of Alec's fingers on her bare skin and wondered absently when the last time she'd had her hand touched without the protective leather of a biker glove had been.
"Are they?" Max squinted at the fresh runes cluttering her forearm, "Huh. Wonder what Sandeman's on about this time."
Alec's grunt of agreement was distracted as he studied her arm briefly before releasing it, "Any luck with getting it translated?"
Max's eyes swept the ground as they headed into Central, "Logan was workin' on some stuff. Think he found a lead on some ancient language that could be a mutated spin-off."
"Great." Alec dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket and scuffed his boots across the dusty flooring leading to the staircase, "Sooner we find out what White's got going on here, the better."
"Yeah well, right now we got bigger fish to fry." Max sighed, tucking a strand of thick brown hair behind her ear and resting a hand on the banister of the basement staircase as she turned to lock eyes with Alec, "Did you get in touch with Sung's guys yet?"
Alec nodded grimly, "Apparently White's set up a meet to hand over the Jam Pony gang at an old pier outside Sector Two."
"Normal must've dealt." Max rubbed at her face and flicked a grey speck of sleep from her eye, and Alec's shoulders lifted briefly.
"Maybe. Least they're safe though," He scratched at the back of his neck and glanced at the busy transgenics thronging about them, "We can take of ourselves, Max."
"I know." She dipped her head forlornly, "I just wish we could take care of them as well."
"Max?" Tanker's voice sounded at the bottom of the steps, "Alec? You guys up there?"
"Kid talked." Max informed Alec as they headed down the stairs, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yeah? So what'd he say?"
"White's got a whole stock of Psy-Ops, X-series merger kids holed up somewhere. He's using Manticore technology to brainwash them, turns'em into good lil' spies and then plants them here." Max nodded at Tanker, who looked indeterminably exhausted and was swinging his legs from his perch on a desk, a beer clutched in his hands.
"How'd it go?"
"Well, the good news is…" Alec paused and scrunched his lips momentarily before shrugging, "Actually there isn't any good news, but the bad news is they're goin' ahead with the sweep."
"Peachy." Tank grumbled as he took a gulp of his beer.
"Where's the kid?" Max queried, noting that Mia was apparently absent in the stale-aired basement, and Kid's chair was empty.
"With Mia, asleep." Tank ground the bottom of his palms into bleary eyes before glancing at Alec and Max, "All that cryin' finally did him in, apparently."
"'Bout freaking time." Alec stalked behind the desk and pulled open the filthy, buzzing refrigerator, "Least he actually said somethin' useful before he hit the sack."
"What exactly did you say to him?" Max demanded as Alec leant into the fridge and produced two dilapidated beer bottles.
"Whaddya mean, what did I say to him?"
"This lecture I'm hearing about, he was freaked out of his mind." Max snapped as Alec straightened and tossed her a wry raise of his eyebrows.
"Nothin' – just told him what was what." Alec didn't seem to think it had any bearing on the situation as he popped the lid off his beer and took a swig, "By the way, did uh anybody call for me while I was gone?"
"You mean during your three-day hiatus?" Tank slipped onto his feet and threw Alec a disapproving frown before putting the bottle to his lips briefly, "I dunno, man, ask the techies. What am I, your PA?"
"Hey, what's with the attitude?" Alec snapped, his voice streamlining into a hardened tone so fast it made Max's head spin and Tanker's adrenalin boil.
"Attitude? What am I, twelve?"
"'What am I, your PA, what am I, twelve' – you havin' some kinda identity crisis?" Alec slammed down his bottle at the precise moment Tank did likewise.
"You havin' some kinda breakdown?" The bulkier X5 demanded with a seething scowl, "Cuz you're trippin' all over the place, man."
"Hey, guys!" Max's voice cut stridently through the static as she picked up both of their beers and shoved them into the men's chests, "Chill out."
There was a sturdy silence as the X5s exchanged stony glares before both gripped their beers and took a swig in unison. Max rolled her eyes.
"God, you're pack of children." She shoved past Alec's shoulder and back up the steps.
"Max, get your ass back down here!" Tanker called up after her, his voice echoing insistently up the steps as she pointedly ignored him, "We gotta lot of ground to cover on this health inspector crisis before Mole decides to come in swinging!"
"Hey leave her alone, man, okay?" Alec's low-throated rumble followed Max as she paused to inhale deeply at the head of the stairs, "She's got a lot to deal with right now…"
"Yeah well ignoring everything doesn't make it go away, Alec." Tank was huffing, but his voice was blurring and becoming imperceptible to Max. She felt a sharp pain in her cranium and barely swung out a hand to steady herself on the railing before a tremor ran through her body.
Fuck.
"I get times are rough," Tank was fading now, sounding decidedly far away (and possibly even underwater), "I do, but we all just gotta buckle down now."
"Don't gimme that crap."
"Alec…" Max tried to get the word out, but it caught in her throat like a nasty fish hook. The shaking was stronger now, and try as she might to regain control of herself, Max realized that she was standing at the threshold of a full-blown seizure.
"Max's done more then her fair share for the day considering the fact that she's sick…"
"Alec…" Max heard it leave her mouth in a painfully weak rasp as she slid to her knees against the banister, every muscle in her body beginning to seize up as she shook with a violence that was both foreign and terrifying.
This one was new…this one was bad.
Her vision blurred, pain pulsed through her brain in throbbing waves, and her entire body convulsed as Max tipped on her side and struggled to pull her knees to her chest.
"It's okay." The voice was young but not frightened, and Max squinted through the maze of colors clouding her eyes at the small figure crouching beside her, "It's gonna be okay, Max."
"Tryptophan.." Max ground out between teeth clenched together feverishly, sweat soaking her hairline and the collar of her shirt as her eyes began to roll up into her head.
"Max? Max!" This voice was different – it wasn't young but it was frightened.
"Hey, hey, hey…" Hands gripped her, lifted her from the floor and held her gyrating frame tightly against a warm, familiar-smelling body, "You're gonna be alright, you hear me? I gotcha."
I don't need you, you stupid idiot. Max wanted to scream as she became distinctly aware that Alec had just scooped her into his arms and was carrying her somewhere, an anxious Tanker at his heels, I just need some fucking Tryptophan...
I think.