Chapter Five - Don't Panic

Co-written with Renegade Vic

A/N: Thanks again to teenageroadkill for reviewing the last chapter! We love you! :)

Mike winced as his arm, covered in first-degree burns, brushed against the still-hot mouth of the furnace. Xavier was definitely not wasting any time in getting him out- in getting the antidote out.

If he thought this one was his ticket out of here, though, he was in for a surprise. There was no way in hell Mike was giving up the syringe to that psychopath- and if he had to fight him off again, well…that was an outcome that didn't look so bad after last time.

"Gimme the needle," Xavier demanded, "and my knife back. You had your fun."

He wasn't serious.

It was all Mike could do not to burst into laughter at Xavier's ridiculous demands. He honestly thought he was in a position to lay claim to an antidote? What had he done to earn it?

"Fuck off," Mike spat, his fist clenching around both the syringe and the knife instinctively. "What did you do to earn it? I didn't see you climbin' in there and getting roasted!" His grip shifted on the knife, to the combat stance Dave had shown him nearly a year ago after K2K thugs had tried to jump them in an alley after a race.

"I'm gonna say this one more time. Give. Me. The needle." Xavier took a step toward Mike, taking full advantage of his height to try and intimidate the shorter man.

It wasn't working. Mike simply chuckled, glancing up at Xavier contemptuously.

"Remember what happened last time you tried to push me around? Remember that knife you 'let me borrow'?" Mike launched into a sweep-kick, but Xavier leapt back and lunged at him, sending both sprawling in a disorganized heap and knocking both needle and knife from Mike's hands.

Attack dog learned a new trick.

He'd still made a simple, amateurish mistake in trying to pin Mike- two mistakes, actually. He had focused most of his attention into stopping his arms…and had failed to think about his own positioning above Mike. A swift knee to the groin, however, drove the mistake home better than any amount of instruction could have- and as Xavier rolled to the side, groaning in pain, Mike stood and dusted himself off before grabbing the knife that had slipped from his hand.

The needle was nowhere to be seen.

Obi stood a metre or so away, his eyebrows furrowed in something that was definitely not concern and his lips set into a hard line.

And the syringe filled with the precious antidote was held loosely in his hand, practically dangling between his thumb and forefinger.

There was deadly quiet, all eyes on the needle and silent voices roared with hunger for it. Ava was sure she was salivating.

It was there. The thing she needed to survive was right there in that motherfucker's hand. And so loose…it'd only take a moment…

Slowly, Obi turned to the blonde woman sobbing at the back of the room, something akin to pity, or guilt, written across his face.

He took three steps toward her, stopping when he was within arm's reach of her. For a second, Ava was certain he was going to hit her.

Obi knelt down so he was level with Laura…and held out his hand. Blinking in astonishment, Laura looked at Obi, and then at his outstretched hand. It was the hand that had held the antidote syringe…and he was giving it to her.

"It's my fault that you're here," Obi murmured. "You're not gonna survive this house unless you take that. Trust me."

He tilted her chin up with a finger, Laura too shocked to fight him off.

"You'll die otherwise."

And then he moved away like nothing had happened, retreating to the shadows. Ava looked from the needle to Laura, biting her lip.

What now?

Laura clenched her fist around the needle, looked up at Obi through her hair and moved the needle to the inside of her elbow.

"Thank you…" she whispered, sliding it into her skin and depressing the plunger.

He'd saved her.

Ava was in a state of wonderment. The woman that had more or less accused him of kidnapping them all, true or not, had been given the antidote. No fight. No quarrel.

Nothing.

He had willingly saved the life of another…

She glanced sideways at Amanda, who had her head down and appeared to be in some kind of quiet meditation. From here, Ava could almost read her thoughts.

He was learning…

Mike stood, nearly transfixed as he watched the scene unfold before him. Who was this guy, this 'Obi,' really, to decide what happened with the antidote he had earned? The one he had almost died for?

But who was he to say Laura didn't need the help? She had been looking weak, already- more so than the others. It made sense- if they were all going to survive, they'd have to work together like this.

Sacrifices would have to be made, sometimes. And people were going to be pissed about that- Xavier in particular.

He could sweat it out. Bastard.

"Hey." Mike's hand found its way to Obi's shoulder and gripped firmly. Not forcefully enough to be a threat, but more than enough to guarantee he'd stay put. "Warn me next time, that's all I'm askin'. I could've been dead."

"No. You think too fast. You don't panic," Obi replied, shrugging out of Mike's grasp and pushing past the others on the stairwell as he left the basement hastily.

Yeah.

Panic was what would get people killed. If they couldn't stick it out as a group, the stragglers would get picked off by the gas- or by the traps.

Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing…if Xavier got fed up with it and left.

Maybe…

Mike turned his attention to the rest of the group, pacing amongst them in the shocked silence that seemed to have fallen over the house.

Addison, stand-offish and doing her best not to panic. Laura, finally starting to calm down a little- but still very much afraid. Daniel, lurking. Jonas, on edge and looking like a deer in the headlights. Xavier, nursing his pride with death-glares. Ava, confused, but no longer as hostile as she seemed to be before. Amanda, silent. Distant.

They had something in common, now. They had both played one of Jigsaw's "games," and come out alive. What else did she know? There had to be something…

Ava watched Obi disappear up the stairs, her mind in a whirl of confusion and fear. Two had been cured. There were only a few antidotes left now, and she had her doubts that Xavier was going to allow himself to miss out on yet another one. By intimidation or by actually going through his own test, she wasn't quite sure. And she was definitely in no rush to find out.

Glancing around at the group, Ava swallowed heavily, realizing her throat was drier than she first thought. But she was positive it was not due to a lack of water.

"Come on," she murmured, looking over at Laura and Amanda. "We should get out of here. It fucking reeks of gas."

Like a sleep-walker, she ascended the stairs, her footsteps sounding heavier than they had when she'd walked down them for the first time.

A series of quick steps behind her announced Laura's presence. She was following her. Or Obi.

"We've got a chance now, don't we?" she asked, her voice strained with desperation. Ava glanced over her shoulder at the blonde, an eyebrow raised. She'd been cured. What did she care about the rest?

"Believe whatever the fuck you want to believe," Ava muttered in return, pushing open the basement door.

"We're all gonna die one day, anyway."

Defeat. Ava hated that word and its corresponding emotion with a passion, but it was all she was feeling right now. She was tired, so goddamn tired it was killing her. Like the nerve gas was.

Slumping against the nearest wall, Ava slid down it to the floor, her eyes half-closed.

"Half dead already," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "Fuck."

"You look cold. Here." Mike slipped his jacket from his shoulders, setting it on the warped step just below where Amanda sat. The sudden sound seemed to jerk her from her reverie, and she turned to him, her face an unreadable mask.

"So you think that, because you passed this test…one that wasn't yours, we've got something in common?" Her question was harsh, her tone even more so.

"No, I…fuck. I guess. What's it matter if I 'pass my test' or help someone else? If it'll get me and everyone else out of here-"

"You don't get it, do you? He didn't earn it. He…didn't…earn it!"

Was she on the edge of another breakdown? If she was, being trapped in the furnace with Xavier was probably a safer state of being than sitting this close to her- but it didn't matter. He had to know what she knew.

"All right, all right. Doesn't mean someone has to die, though. There were two needles in there, and for all we know, there might only have been eight anywhere else. That might've been someone's only chance…you get what I'm saying?"

"No, Mike…you're the one who still doesn't get it. He wouldn't just…" Amanda's voice broke, and when she spoke again, it was barely a whisper. "Just take someone's chance away."

She said this like she understood this…psycho, this "Jigsaw." Maybe her life really had been fucked up, back before her first "test"- who knew? Maybe she was putting this sick fuck on a pedestal because whatever he'd done had been a wake-up call for her.

"No. I guess not," Mike sighed. "But if we can all get outta here…why not? Not like most of us deserve to die for whatever we did…I mean, I don't make a habit out of hurting people who didn't make the first move, and last I checked Addison's not some fuckin' mass murderer…hell, you don't seem like you belong here either."

"You'd be surprised what I've done," she replied, picking up the well-abused leather jacket and sliding into it. It had fit Mike like a glove, but was a little loose on Amanda's tiny frame. "But…thanks. I think you get it after all."

Without another word, Amanda climbed the stairs into the rest of the house, followed closely by Daniel and Jonas, and after a moment's hesitation and another venomous glare, Xavier. Addison filed in a few paces behind him, but another coughing fit rooted her to the spot just behind Mike.

"Fuckin' hell, Ad. You need the antidote," Mike murmured, swinging around into a standing position and guiding her up the stairs.

There wasn't any hiding it anymore. She was coughing up blood- her hand was covered in it, almost black in the wan light of the basement stairwell, staining her lips as well as her hands.

She needed help- and soon.

Ava's eyes flickered as she fought to remain conscious. There was no fucking way she was gonna allow herself to succumb to the desperate need to sleep. The desperate need to die…

No!

Shaking herself out of the depressing downward spiral, Ava struggled to her feet, holding the wall for support. Her knees felt weak. She could barely stand…

In a few moments, she'd be unable to stand at all. Only lie down and accept the inevitable truth that she was going to die in this house. After everything she had done in her life, she was going to die this way. After all she'd done to cover up--

"Hey, are you okay?"

Someone was holding her arm. She couldn't see who. She didn't care.

"Stupid fucking question, isn't it?" she snapped, pulling away from them and nearly falling over in the process.

Fuck it all!

"Fucking hell, Ava. Actin' like this isn't helping you."

Mike. Dammit.

Glaring at the rocker, Ava's upper lip curled in distaste.

"And what the fuck would you know about helping, huh? Maybe I've just accepted the fucking inevitable."

She slumped, looking at the others from under her fringe. Two cured, a bitch, a psycho, a 'leader', a kid, a corpse and…Mike. Where did that leave her?

"I'm so fucking…tired," she rasped, rubbing at her throat.

"I know. But we've gotta keep moving. Gotta keep the blood flowing. Where there's life, there's hope, and all that bullshit, right?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure just how badly Ava was doing, whether she was succumbing to the gas faster than the others- or if she was some kind of hypochondriac. Either way, she wasn't doing too great, either.

None of them were, with the exceptions of Obi and Laura- and they still looked about fit to pass out, too. What if the antidote was a lie? What if Jonas was right, or they'd inhaled too much of it? Maybe it wasn't Sarin gas, but some completely unrelated nerve agent that would fuck all of their worlds up at a moment's notice?

But Amanda seemed to think they could live. Maybe. She had done this before. If only she'd actually talk about it…

"Really, Ava, I mean it. We're gonna get out of here. All of us. Gonna figure this thing out, and get everyone out of here. You think I'm fuckin' around, that I don't get what's going on, well, I do. And I've seen shit where the mindset made the whole fuckin' game change. That's life for me. Can't die if you don't roll over and accept it-" Mike turned his attention to the others, clustered around the landing leading to the second floor. "And I'm not lettin' any of you accept just rollin' over and dying. You hear me? We're gettin' the fuck out of this place."

"Not if no one knows where we are," Jonas replied, an eerie note of solemnity creeping into his voice. Was it resolve or resignation? It was hard to tell.

"You think that matters? Someone's gonna notice one of us went missing. There's fuckin' ten of us! Hell, Dave and Mira probably got the whole crew together by now. I bet they're picking every back-alley shortcut apart."

"Yeah…and my dad's probably got half the city looking for me, just so he can kick my ass for disappearing," Daniel chimed in.

"Sounds like quite a guy," Mike quipped.

"Yeah, he's a…he's a real hardass."

Why did his face look familiar?

As much as it might have pissed her off, Ava had to admit that Mike was right. Someone would have noticed they were missing by now, or at least they would have noticed she was missing. Ava wasn't the type to disappear without telling someone where she was. She'd learned through experience that it was always the right way to go, for more than one occasion. Even if she didn't have that many friends, someone would have realized she was missing. But then, Ava didn't know how long she had been missing. An hour? Two? Three, maybe? Those weren't usually the time frames that made people panic about where another person might be.

Fuck.

Knowing the idiots she associated with, they probably wouldn't even know where to start looking, if they chose to at all.

Pushing her fringe out of her eyes, she glared at the kid. Fuck, his face was pissing her off, and not in the ways it usually would. She'd seen it somewhere before…but for the life of her, she couldn't place where.

"Your dad," she drawled. "Real hard-ass, huh? What's his deal, anyway?"

"I dunno," the kid replied, glancing over at her momentarily and dropping his eyes. "Just got a…a problem, I guess."

Ava's eyebrows rose.

"A problem. Huh…family," she hacked heavily into her hand, coughs racking her entire body as she covered her mouth with her hand, which in retrospect accomplished nothing.

Wet. Liquid.

Red.

Blood had stained Ava's palm crimson, almost black in the dim light.

"Jesus…" she muttered, wiping her hand on her sleeve and straightening to the best of her ability.

"So, what's the plan?" Addison snapped. "Stand around and wait for the fuckin' syringes to just drop from the ceiling, or what?"

"Seeing how fuckin' messed up this Jigsaw guy is, I wouldn't put it past him," Jonas said, making a mild attempt at humour to lighten the situation. Seemed rather inappropriate, but Ava was sure it was appreciated. Maybe. The glare Amanda sent the black man was quite an obvious indicator of her opinion.

"I think we need to start lookin' around," Mike spoke up. "Ain't gonna find those syringes just hangin' around here."

"We have no fucking idea how big this place is," Ava groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "And we've only got, what, forty-five minutes to go before we're meant to keel over and die?"

"You love lookin' on the bright side, dontcha?" Jonas muttered, shaking his head sarcastically.

Ava scowled.

"I'm a realist, asshole. Sorry if I can't see any goddamn bright side!"

"Yeah, whatever. Bright side or not, I ain't dying here. You guys get to checkin' around down here, I'm gonna look upstairs," Jonas shot back, already on his way up the creaking stairwell.

"Well, since you fucks took mine, I'm going with him," Xavier growled, shoving past Laura and Daniel and overtaking Jonas a moment later.

"Fuckin' psycho…" Mike muttered under his breath, as soon as the drug dealer was out of earshot. "I don't care what the fuck he says, that guy is fucking crazy. I've seen him around…heard the stories. Kinda hard not to when he's my rival's personal fuckin' dealer…"

"So you two are connected, huh?" The voice was female, but a wave of spasms doubled Mike over before he could identify the speaker- or respond.

It was starting.

Fuck.