See, the thing about stories is, they're fractal. Each little bit develops permutations of its own, following the main pattern. And the finer the detail you look at, the more of the pattern pops up. Sorry. Didn't mean to wax all philosophical. ...And many thanks for the reviews of that last little fluff bit. Tikatu, Creative Girl and Whirl Girl, you keep me pointed in the right direction. ;)

51

London's GDF Hospital, in the "secure" ward-

Only, someone went and pulled the bloody fire alarm! Must've found the hostages, or something. Havok started to charge forward, meaning to kill Tracy, trank that Special, and get him back to the Chaos Cruiser. Except, as she raced past the nurse's station, something happened to the floor. Amid hooting alarms, shouting people and flashing lights, the concrete beneath her feet simply disintegrated; crumbling away to sand in a few jerky heartbeats.

Havok plunged two stories, badly wrenching her left leg, and knocking the wind right out of her for several long minutes. When her vision and breath returned, she looked around. Saw other people lying nearby, covered in dust and blood. Some of them were moving, some of them injured or dead. Bloody h*ll! Spitting fury and screaming curses helped the girl to get on her feet, and stay that way. So did shooting the other survivors.

She could have set off the rest of her bombs, then… meant to, eventually… but that wouldn't have been very wise; not while she was still in the building, herself.

Didn't find Tracy or the time-bender among the people she'd shot down. Upstairs, maybe? Looking overhead, all she could see was swirling grey dust and sparking light panels. A few pipes, too, dribbling water and sludge. Too late to go after Dos Santos, now, but with any luck at all, he'd at least have killed Tracy.

Clinging to the walls, cursing in a fluid, bitterly inventive stream, Havok limped her way to the emergency stairwell. She remained invisible. Easier like that, because the stairs were packed with EMTs and frightened patients. Simpler to stay hidden and move with the crowd, but Havok hadn't reckoned on her brother.

Fuse turned up like a bulldozer in a field of ripe grain, shouting her name as he vaulted the stairs three at a time. Big, stupid lummox hadn't waited below, with the Cruiser. Instead, he'd come after her, tossing patients and guards over the rail as he came. Shook the entire stairwell, he did. Cracked the walls, too, just barely not going seismic.

"Havok!" he bellowed, spotting his sister. Invisible or not, Fuse could see her through his implant.

"Geroff!" she raged, fighting not to be hauled up and thrown over one of his broad, meaty shoulders like an armoured corn-sack. Didn't work. "Uhn…! Stupid! You was supposed t' stay with the ruddy Cruiser!"

Fuse managed to get himself turned around on the stairs. No small thing, as large as he was, while holding a struggling sister.

"'Eard the alarm and thunk: bet she could use some help with th' time-bender," he panted, starting back down, again. "Tucked 'im away somewheres, 'ave you?"

Havok cursed again, partly because those GDF pop-guns actually hurt, when they pelted her unarmoured face. Partly from rage and embarrassment.

"No," she snarled. "Sprung him, right enough, but we'll have t' come back f'r 'im, later. Reckon 'ees killed Tracy, though."

Fuse shouted with laughter. By this time, the trank-effect had worn off completely, leaving her brother shark-hungry and reptile-cold.

"Well, that's another one f'r the corpse-count," he congratulated her. "Only four Tracys t' go now, innit? Five, if we wants th' girl, too."

Havok was too busy to reply, shooting Peace Officers, as Fuse charged down the crowded and booming stairs. Rather soothing, that was; helped work out her frustrations with Tracys, Time-benders and the ruddy Hood. Havok's favourite form of therapy.

Her brother set her back on the concrete deck, when they reached the hospital's basement delivery dock. Checking their ride, she saw that there were dead workers posed all around the Chaos Cruiser like big, ghastly toys. Fuse had been busy.

Stepping back a few paces, he looked her over. Scanning through his implant for injuries, most likely. Started to reach over, meaning to help Havok walk, but she slapped his arm aside.

"I'm ace! Leave off!" She wasn't, of course, but d*mned if she'd let her brother know that. Started back for their ship at a business-like limp, snapping, "Back in th' cruiser. Let's go. The time-bender won't have got far, if 'ees still alive. We c'n track 'im through 'is powers."

"Wot if 'ees dead?" Fuse rumbled, kicking a few stiffening corpses away from the cruiser's main hatch. "Wot then, Havok?"

"Then, Sib-dear, we cut t' plan B. And don't ask me what it is, neither. I'll figure that out, when we gets to it. Now, move, ya big lump! Y'r blockin' th' d*mn hatch!"

Somewhere inside of her, Havok was glad for the rescue… So, she gave him some food that she'd pinched from the hospital kitchen, tossing it at him with a gruff,

"'Ere. Don't say I never gave ya nothin'."

Less than five minutes later, they were back in the air; cloaked and hunting.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Earlier-

They'd just passed through the corroded door, when the hospital's fire alarm went off. Charlie wasn't ready for that. He reacted by lashing out with his power, aging the floor into complete non-existence. Screaming, the boy fell.

So did Gordon, but the aquanaut managed to twist himself in midair and seize hold of a rusted beam-end. With the other hand, he held tight to the boy's arm. Shouldn't have been able to hang on like that, but somehow, he did; locking onto the crumbling beam, and not dropping Charlie.

Over that shrieking alarm, the screams of frightened people, Gordon shouted,

"It's okay! I got you, Big Guy! You're safe!"

And then, he hauled upward with his right arm, pulling Charlie along, till the shaking boy could clamp a thin arm around his neck.

"I got you," he repeated. "Shh… it's fine. You're okay, Kiddo. That's just a noise to tell people they need to get out, and that's what we want to do, right? We still want to get out?"

The boy's brown eyes were closed, but he nodded, pressing his face hard to the aquanaut's neck.

"Want to get out," he repeated, sniffling.

"Okay, then. You hold on tight, Charlie. I'm gonna swing us down to the next floor. Nothing to be scared of. I'm here, and I won't let you go. Promise."

From somewhere below them, Gordon heard gunshots and shouts. Havok… or Charlie. He could not deal with both situations, at once; and a terrified, brain-scraped time bender was more of a threat than a single, bomb-tossing assassin. Especially with Rigby and the other hostages still trapped and in danger.

Holding the kid, Gordon began easing his way down to the next floor; using beams, pipe-ends and sparking cables as a complex, sagging ladder. Saw that his wrist comm was flashing, at one point, but wasn't sure it was smart to take his concentration off Charlie, or the climb.

He talked almost the whole way down, too; about the Olympics, IR, his brothers, and how to tell a joke that John would actually laugh at. Toward the end, there, just a few feet from safety, two floors down, Charlie fell asleep.

Gordon stopped climbing for a while, needing to shift his grip and let the boy rest. Looking down at the kid, he couldn't help wondering what sort of awful, scary existence could have made this seem like a good place to pass out. Thought of his dad, the Colonel, and of how, once upon a time, he'd felt that safe and protected, too. Weird mixture of feelings. Wasn't sure how to sort it all, so he just shoved it away.

Anyhow, he had to find Kayo, and let her know what was going on... without using the wrist comm. Havok had tapped into it once. She could probably track him, that way. With a decision to make, and a killer on the prowl, Gordon did what he hoped was the smart thing. He left his wrist comm strapped to a leaking, vibrating pipe, took a firm, soothing grip on the sleeping boy, and resumed climbing downward.