Title: Power Behind the Throne 09

Author: Ethiercn

Rating: MA

Disclaimer: Marvel owns them; I'm just borrowing them.

Nova flew as quickly as he could. Despite the title of human rocket, he reached the accident scene after EMS. "Fuck," he breathed as he took in the wreckage of Bart Jones' car. He flew down to the gathered workers. "Need some help?" he asked as he landed.

A dark haired EMS worker looked up at him and shook her head. "He's gone."

Oh God, poor Red, Nova thought before asking, "What happened?"

A cop gave him a why do you care expression, but replied, "Looks like a heart attack and just lost control."

Nova nodded and studied the accident scene. Thrash could get the reports and figure this out. Then, whether Thrash wanted him to or not, he was going to call Justice.

Vance entered the mansion and made his way though the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and walked quickly down the hallway. He should be able to sneak a couple minutes with Angel. He walked quietly down the hallway and then paused when he heard voices from Shaw's office. He moved closer to the door.

"How do we keep this from her?" Thomas said sounding worried for a change.

"We say he had a job offer and is out of town for an interview," Shaw replied with a cough.

"And then?" Thomas challenged. "It's going to be like holding a tiger by the tail."

"We'll think of something," Shaw coughed. "Or we'll have proof that it wasn't us. We spin this the right way, and she could be far more willing." Shaw broke out into a coughing fit.

Frowning, Vance moved quickly away. His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Nova? Why was he calling, Vance wondered as he headed for the door. Once outside, he answered. "What happened?" he demanded after making sure no one else was around.

"Vance," Nova said his voice funny. "It's Angel's dad; he's dead."

Vance leaned asked a wall and closed his eyes. Shit, he thought.

"Vance?" Nova asked.

"How?" he forced out. He would never have a chance to make things right.

"Not sure yet, but the cops think he had a heart attack and crashed the car. He had been seeing Professor Xavier. I'm not sure . . ."

"Trying to find Angel, most likely," Vance supplied.

"Thrash is going to take care of . . . well, things," Nova supplied lamely. "He's monitoring the investigation."

"I'm not sure if Shaw is behind it," Vance thought aloud. "He was talking with Thomas." He opened his eyes. "They have a cat."

"Who?"

"Angel and her father. They have a cat."

"Oh," Nova sounded slightly confused. "We'll take care of it." He paused. "Thrash's thinks that you shouldn't tell Red."

Vance felt a flash of anger. "He does? And we tell her afterwards, what, you saved everyone else, but, sorry, your father's been dead? Right."

"I didn't say I agreed with him," Nova sounded defensive. "We did get her birth records and Shaw is listened as her father. We also found the team that is watching Speedball's family and Chord." He made the news sound like an offering. "Tell Red, we're thinking about her.

"Got to go," Vance hung up.

Vance nudged the camera slightly and then ducked inside Angel's room. Angel rose as the door opened and relaxed slightly when she saw him, but she tensed quickly when she saw the look on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked. He shook his head, took her hand and led her into the bathroom where he closed the door and ran the water in the tub.

"Vance," Angel asked her hand going cold in his. "What's wrong? Are the others okay?" She didn't like the look in his blue eyes.

He turned to her. "Angel, it's your father," he began as gently as he could.

Her hands clutched at his shirt. "No!" she whispered. "If they hurt him. ..."

"Ang. There was an accident. Your father was driving, and he had a heart attack. He's dead, Angelica."

"No!" she pushed Vance against the wall. "You're wrong! It's a trick!" She hit at him with her fists.

He grabbed her hands before she could lash out again, "Angel, hon. I'm sorry. He's dead."

She crumbled then, and the only thing he could do was hold her. It felt like she was shattering, as if the only thing keeping her together was his arms wrapped around her. He couldn't tell if the heat he felt radiating from her was due to grief or a portent of something more dangerous. Then she stopped crying.

"I'll kill them," she coldly declared eventually.

He clutched at her, "Ang, no."

"They killed him," she pushed aside his arms and started to get to her feet.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her back. "Shaw didn't know. I heard him talking to Thomas," he whispered urgently. "I don't think they had anything to do with this. It makes no sense for them to do this now."

"Let go," she stormed though clenched teeth as her skin heated up.

That he would not do. Shielding himself a little, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her struggling form against him. "Angelica! The others! I know you don't want Rich or Robbie to feel this!"

She stopped struggling, but her body still shook.

"If Shaw did this, after the others are safe, I help you kill him," he whispered, knowing that he was lying; he never wanted her to live with such guilt. "But you can't let them know. You have to act like . .. "

Sobbing, she shook her head.

"You can," he countered, stroking her hair. "I'll be here."

"He's dead," she whispered, her voice sound weary, heart broken, and forlorn. He wanted to make things better. He wanted to, but knew he couldn't. He rested his head against hers.

"I'm sorry. I'll . . ." he eventually began, but the sound of the door to the suite closing cut him off.

They both froze. There was a knock on the door. "Angelica," Thomas called out. "Are you in there?"

Vance's hands tightened on her as Angel took a deep breath and managed a shaky, "Yes."

"Are you okay?" they could hear his feet outside the door. "You sound strange."

Angel swallowed and rubbed her eyes, "I'm about to take a bath." Vance reached out with his mind and closed the drain to the tub.

"Come out for a second. I need to talk to you," Thomas said, and his feet moved away from the door.

"I'll be right there," Angel called out, rising to her feet. Vance grabbed a washcloth and stuck it under the water as Angel turned her back to him. She removed her shirt, bra, and jeans before wrapping a towel around herself. She rubbed the washcloth over her eyes. Vance squeezed her shoulders before stepping into the bathtub and hovering an inch above the water. He turned off the tap.

Angel opened the door to the bath room and walked out. Thomas stopped pacing and turned to her. His eyes swept over her form, and while he licked his lips, his usually rejoinders were absent. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I thought you should know that your father is out of town, out of West Morris that is, on a job interview."

"Oh," she managed, staring at the floor, trying not to shake. If he said anything suggestive, she would fry him. She wouldn't be able to stop herself. She focused on breathing, on the knowledge that Rob and Rich still had family to be harmed.

"It means," Thomas continued staring at her, "that while he is still under surveillance, he is not longer accessible to the cameras." Thomas frowned; her skin was flushed, her breathing a little heavy. Did he do this to her?

She looked up at him, blue eyes peering into him. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she challenged.

"You don't. But the same rules apply," he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He felt a shiver around though her before she jerked away. Interesting, he thought.

"Can I go back to my bath?" she asked, moving away from him.

"Of course," he replied. "I'll see you at dinner." He turned and left.

After waiting a few seconds, Angel rushed back into the bathroom and reached the toilet just before vomiting. Vance knelt next to her and brushed her hair back. "Just a little longer," he said softly, cupping her face.

She pulled away from him a little, wrapping herself into a tight ball. "You should go before they realize . . ." she swallowed. "I can't lose. . ., " She couldn't finish, but simply rested her head on her arms.

Not wanting to leave her like this, he kissed her forehead and telekinetically pulled a blanket from the bedroom which he wrapped around her. "I'll be back," he promised.

She didn't reply, just hugged herself tighter.

Thomas pulled out his phone as he walked down the hallway. He dialed the number from memory. "Why?" he demanded.

"Mr. Jones you mean. He was digging. It would've been too dangerous not to."

"It was unnecessary," Thomas countered striding out onto the patio.

"Don't tell me you're going soft."

"You're risking my life!" he pointed out angrily running a hand though his brown hair. "So far everything is successful."

His boss ignored the complaint. "How is Shaw handling it?"

"We'll spinning a line about a job offer," Thomas' rage cooled slightly. "She seems to be buying it for the moment."

"See? No harm done."

Thomas snorted.

"Don't tell me you are succumbing to Shaw's matchmaking scheme," the voice said.

"She's not what I excepted."

"Don't make to the same mistakes your brother made," the voice said coolly.

"Hardly a concern," Thomas mumbled.

"But should you want play time, go right ahead," his boss continued. "Contact me tomorrow at the same time."

Thomas pocketed his phone, turned suddenly, and punched the wall.