Morrison grunted slightly, blinking his eyes open a little blearily, then stretched and yawned, scratching at his head. He heard a faint mumbling nearby, and glanced over to see Jeff and Beth were already awake and dressed in jeans and similar flannel shirts...purple and blue for Jeff and white and gray with a hint of sparkle in the fabric for Beth...and were working on microwaving something that smelled faintly of bacon, talking quietly as they did. When Morrison moved to sit up, they looked over to him.
"Hey..." he murmured, brushing his hair back, then rubbing his face some, trying to finish waking up.
"Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Josh's voice said, and Morrison glanced over at the other bed to see him sitting at the end in khakis and a green sweater, sipping a bottle of soda while he was jamming his feet into a pair of black boots. "Glad you could join us."
"What time is it?" Morrison asked, as Jeff came over and set a duffel bag on the bed next to him.
"It's almost ten. I peeked in the next room and they're all still asleep, so we're just getting cleaned up and dressed." Jeff tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom door. "Chavo's probably almost done."
As if on cue, the door came open, and Chavo came out, wearing a pair of black slacks and carrying a white button-up shirt in one hand, rubbing at his head with a towel. "There's still plenty of towels and all," he said, going over to the bed, keeping from directly meeting Morrison's gaze as he went to the other bed, dropping the towel down and starting to pull on the shirt.
"Mmph." Morrison got to his feet, digging in the bag Jeff had given him and taking out a pair of jeans and another flannel shirt, this one a more classic red and black color. He wrinkled his nose, but draped it over his arm anyway. "This is what I get for letting Cena pick out the clothes."
"As long as it's warm and it holds up until we can find a media outlet to get here," Jeff said, opening the microwave and taking out four of what looked like breakfast burritos. "First batch is up. Hurry and get your shower."
Morrison nodded, walking over, patting Jeff on the shoulder once as he went by, then went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, only to open it a second later and whip a handful of dirty towels and washrags out, muttering something about a mildew smell, before shutting the door again.
Beth snorted some, starting to unwrap more of the burritos to start them cooking. "Do you think we should wake the others up or just let them sleep? I mean, we should probably move soon, before the whole world starts crapping it's pants. Surely to God someone noticed an entire building exploding, even out in the middle of the woods."
"Give them a few more minutes, then we can-,"
"NOOOOO!"
They stared at each other at the scream, Rey's voice screaming, then rushed to the door, shoving it open and almost stumbling over each other in their rush to get through. "What is it? What's happening?"
There was a loud thud, and they saw Batista jumping up from where he'd just fallen out of bed, eyes bulging. "What? Rey? Rey, are you all right?"
"What's happening?" another voice broke in, and Morrison pushed his way in, dripping wet, hair hanging in clumps around his face, only barely clutching a towel strategically in front of him. "Are we getting attacked again?"
"Calm down, calm down," Eddie's voice broke through the din, and they looked over to see him sitting up, hugging Rey close, despite the smaller man's struggling and squirming. He wasn't even addressing them. "Calm down, Rey, it's okay. It's over."
"No, no no no, he's here, he's here, he's going to hurt me, I saw him, I saw him!" Rey wailed, trying to push away from Eddie, obviously still in a panic. "Kane's here, he's here! He's in here! He's coming to get me!"
"Shhhhh..." Eddie hugged him close, rubbing his arm reassuringly. "No one is out there, Rey. No one's coming to get you. You're safe now, you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you." He looked up, finally noticing all the others standing and staring, and gestured vaguely at them. "It's okay. He'll be fine."
"It's not a nightmare! It's real...it's real, Eddie, it's real, he's going to get me!" Rey sobbed, clutching at Eddie, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. "Please don't let him get me, please, please..."
"No one will get you, Rey, I won't let them." Eddie rocked him slightly, rubbing his back, even as Rey continued to cry that he was in danger from Kane.
"God...he's a mess, isn't he?" Morrison said softly, watching.
Batista sighed and nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose slightly. "Yeah. It's just gonna get worse."
"What do you mean, gonna get worse?" Josh asked, narrowing his eyes.
Batista shook his head, looking over. "The things they've done to him...they erased a lot, managed to scrub it from his conscious mind. But...they implanted a lot too...and none of the techniques are even close to perfect. So there's a lot of things in his subconscious, a lot of images and memories, stuff like that. They had tactics at the hospital to kind of keep all that under control from experiment to experiment, but out here without the doctors and scientists and psychologists constantly monitoring things..."
"He's just going to steadily get crazier?" Chavo finished.
"That's not exactly the phrasing I was going to use...but he is going to have trouble keeping his focus and...staying rational."
There was silence from the others, until Beth looked around, raising an eyebrow at Morrison as he abruptly realized where he was and quickly wrapped the towel around himself more completely, blushing faintly. She glanced around as Eddie soothed Rey, then over to the others. Finally, she spoke.
"Where the hell is John?"
"I'm right here. You were just gawking at my package," Morrison sniffed, turning to head back into the other room to retrieve his clothes.
"Not you, you idiot. Cena. Where is he?"
"He was supposed to be on guard," Batista said, standing from the bed. "He was gonna wake me up to take the rest of the night at some point..."
"Maybe he just went to get another coke or something," Jeff said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I'll go check," Batista said, stepping over and picking up a shirt, starting to tug it on. "And chew his ass out for trying to play superhero and stay awake all night like he can do everything." He shouldered on a coat as well, taking hold of the door and pushing it open-
BANG!
"Motherfucker!" Batista grunted, stumbling and falling backwards as a bullet hole appeared in the door just to the left of his head. He kicked the door shut at another shot, which slammed through the wood and into the wall near the bed.
"It's Kane! It's Kane, he's here, he's here!" Rey shrieked.
"What's going on?" Morrison called from the back room, as Batista crawled back to his feet, moving towards the window and peeking out.
"Son of a bitch, it's Krugman," Batista grumbled.
"Who's Krugman?" Beth asked, coming over to look from the other side.
Batista pointed to a man in the parking lot, near a green car, with wild hair and thick glasses, who was adjusting the grip he had on a pistol. "Walter Krugman, the lead psychiatrist in the study," Batista said. "Also apparently has had some experience in shooting."
"Why is he shooting at us?" Chavo asked, as Morrison stumbled back in, hair still dripping but fully dressed otherwise, buttoning up the plaid shirt.
"I'm not sure, but I'm not opening the door again to find out." Batista turned, gesturing. "Eddie, get Rey ready to go, I'm going to go check out the other door. Maybe we can run out that way." He pushed past the others, moving towards the back.
Jeff chewed his lip slightly as Eddie slipped out of bed, pulling Rey along. Then Jeff moved forward towards the door.
"Jeff, what are you doing?" Morrison hissed, reaching out to grab his arm.
"Hang on," Jeff said, pulling away. "Stay back." He took a deep breath, gripping the door, then pulling it open, staying back out of the way. After a moment, when there was no shot, he inched closer and peeked around the corner, towards the man Batista identified as Krugman.
"Hello there," the man said politely, still aiming the gun but not shooting. "You're Jeff Hardy. I have a file on you."
"What do you want?" Jeff yelled back.
"It's less what I want and more what my boss wants, and that is to salvage whatever we can of our study. So I've come to collect Rey and bring him along to our next position, and presumably to insure you and the rest of your band's silence."
"And how are you planning to go about doing that?" Jeff called, keeping as much behind the door as he could.
"In your case, I was going to mention knowing where your family is and making some sort of threat against them. For some of the others, I'm afraid just killing them is the only option I have."
Jeff snarled. "You stay away from my family!" he yelled, but Morrison yanked him back and slammed the door shut again.
"Come on, guys, we need to get the hell out of here," Batista hissed, coming back in. "We've got a clear shot through the backdoor, we can be gone before he realizes anything's happened."
"But what about Cena? We still don't know where he is!" Jeff protested.
Batista gritted his teeth. "I don't know...maybe he..."
The room phone rang, causing them all to jump, then stare at it. Finally, after a second and third ring, Josh stepped over and pushed the button for the speakerphone.
"I hate to bring this up," Krugman's voice came through, still as unfailingly polite as before. "But I do have something else that you might like to know about."
"Fuck you, you fucking thug wannabes!" a familiar voice screamed in the background of the call. "Just wait till I get up from here!"
"John..." Beth said softly, biting her lip. "How did they...?"
"Forget me, take Rey out of here, don't give these bastards anything!" Cena yelled, before his voice seemed to choke off.
"He's here, of course," Krugman's voice continued, completely composed. "We have a couple of my compatriots waiting to see if he can be...talked into giving up his crusade against us. As so."
There was a moment of silence, then a faint sound arose, like that of a faint grunt. It quickly rose to a steady growl, and finally, unbidden, Cena let out a short yelp of pain, though his suddenly heavier breathing and a strain in his voice when he yelled again told them he was holding back his shouts as much as possible.
"Goddamnit, take Rey away from here, take him away from here now, get out of here!"
Krugman's voice broke in over the sound. "The option is your's, of course. Batista, you and Rey will need to return to us, and your friends will all have to agree to a very simple procedure to ensure that none of you can recall or do anything to interfere in our experiments again. Beyond that, there will be no more harm done."
Cena called out again, the pain more evident as his voice cracked when he spoke. "Don't any of you fucking dare, don't you-," His words cut off in a shrill scream of pain, accompanied by a faint buzzing sound of something vaguely electrical.
"Stop hurting him!" Beth shouted.
"I would love to, madam, as despite what you might have heard, I do not particularly enjoy hurting people; however, I'm going to need you all to-,"
Batista bared his teeth, then lashed out, hitting the button to disconnect the phone. "Eddie, is Rey ready?"
Eddie nodded some, standing against the furthest wall, having already dressed himself and just finishing helping Rey shrug into his jacket. The smaller man's face was etched with fear, as he glanced between the phone and the door, and as soon as the jacket was on, turned to cling to Eddie, looking for all the world like a frightened child grabbing for his parent. "He's ready..."
"All right, grab the bags, we're bolting."
"Wait! We can't just leave Cena behind!" Jeff said.
"I don't want to leave him behind either but what other option do we have? Obviously Krugman's not alone, and if we wait too long in here, he'll just send in whatever goons he has to flush us out!"
Jeff shook his head stubbornly. "We can't leave him! I don't care what he said!"
"I'm with him," Morrison said. "If we leave Cena with those freaks, they'll kill him. I won't have that karma on my head."
Batista looked at the two of them and sighed, then glanced over at Eddie. "What do you think?"
Eddie tilted his head somewhat, then looked down at Rey, who looked up at him. After a moment, Rey nodded, and Eddie looked back up. "We gotta get John back first. These folks have definitely proven they're willing to kill anyone that crosses them."
Batista blew out a breath. "Okay, but we're hedging our bets." He strode over to the table and picked up the bundle of papers, stuffing them into a duffel bag. "Half of us take Rey and the files away to safety, half of us will rescue Cena."
"Chavo and I can get Rey to safety ourselves," Eddie said, nodding. "The rest of you better work on getting Cena."
Batista nodded, glancing around. "All right. Get going quick. We'll call you once we're clear and we'll all meet up as soon as we can."
Eddie nodded, looking to Chavo, who stepped in and picked up a couple of the bags, slinging them over his shoulders, and Eddie took hold of Rey's hand, pulling him along. The three of them hurried into the back room, where Eddie opened the door and peeked around before leading Rey and Chavo out, and they hurried out quickly. Morrison went over to watch through the door as they crossed to the Wal-Mart parking lot, hesitating only a moment before starting around behind the Wal-Mart to a back road to start making their way down it. As soon as they were out of sight, he shut the door and nodded. "Okay, they're clear."
Batista nodded, sending up a silent prayer to keep them safe until they could all get back together, then turned to the others. "All right. We need a plan. They've got at least one gun, and all we have is our wits and what's in this room."
Josh cleared his throat, then stood from the bed where he'd been sitting and listening. "I have a plan..."
( )
Cena grunted and struggled from the seat he was tied into, trying his best to break the thick leather belts buckled around him. The damn thing was apparently welded into the wall and floor of the van, and no matter how furiously he tried, he couldn't break it loose.
Thinking of how he'd gotten into this pickle just pissed him off worse. The kindly little old man who he'd gone to help with a tire instead stuck a needle in his neck the instant his back was turned, and the next thing he knew, a couple of muscleheads with gray outfits had brought him into the back of a black van and strapped him into this chair. Whatever the little bastard scientist had injected him with, it had been enough to stop him from putting up any kind of fight. He was feeling his strength coming back, but it wasn't quite enough to free himself.
The scientist guy, one of the two goons had referred to him as "Dr. Krugman," was now outside the van on a phone, wielding a gun. The door was open just enough for Cena to hear him basically taunting the others, and he'd tried to warn them away. Instead, the asshole on his left had stuck him with a cattle prod a few times. A goddamn cattle prod, of all things!
"When I get out of here, I'm going to snap your neck..." Cena growled at him, as Krugman, outside the van, closed the phone and stepped back into the van.
"Well, that's that, then," the doctor said. "Start the van, we'd better get moving."
"Get moving? I thought you were here to steal Rey back," Cena said, arching his back against the chair again, flexing one arm as hard as he could in an attempt to break the straps again.
"Oh, I am, my friend, I am. But I can't pass up the chance to make a quick note on some behavioral studies here. Your friends are a unique subset of humanity, and I have a hypothesis that they're going to come after you regardless of the danger I might pose to Rey's safety. I suspect if they think I'm going to try and make my leave with you, they will react most rashly." He drummed a finger on his chin, then turned and opened what looked like a toolbox at his feet, taking out a bottle and a syringe. He injected the needle through the bottle top and began to withdraw a thick red liquid, as one goon started the van. "It would be fascinating to be proven wrong, yet I don't think I will be..."
Cena struggled harder, but couldn't prevent the sharp pain as the liquid was injected into his bicep. "I'm going to snap your neck too..." Cena gasped out.
Krugman smiled faintly, even as Cena felt his vision beginning to dip and spin. "I suppose we'll see soon..."