A/N: Up late marathoning a show that was canceled in its prime years ago and may possibly see resurrection in the near future. The world is a crazy place and just about anything is possible, even Jimmy coming back from the dead, come on TNT, make it happen. Yes? No? Fuck you.
Thank you to the readers, reviewers, whatnot. I understand season 3 is coming out soon? I guess? I hope it's enjoyable for you people still watching.
Thank you to Greg for beta-ing. He didn't enjoy this chapter, you'll see why.
XLII.
Though lying to Ben had been the only way, Jimmy couldn't help the guilt that swarmed him at the sound of Ben's frantic pleas that he stay as he raced through the damp sewers towards his set up point. Getting to the place where he needed to set his bomb wasn't necessarily going to be more difficult than the other areas; there was a short trek involved and it was on the only side of the alien structure that Jimmy wasn't certain of conditions. He couldn't see that side from the roof hours ago, and they hadn't passed it during their run through the district. Although Ben and Rick had the super hearing and speed, Jimmy had the greater experience slipping through urban areas dense in alien troops, there wasn't enough time for him to argue that point with Ben.
Jimmy counted off time in his head, it wouldn't be accurate but at the very least he could detonate his bomb around the same time as the others. He reached his ascension point with less than four minutes, lungs on fire and gasping for breath, and then he raced up the ladder and peeked out at the surrounding street. There was nothing immediately in sight, but he could hear a Mech screaming nearby. Securing the explosive bundle under his arm, Jimmy crawled out of the sewers and gently slid the manhole cover off the hole to make it easier for him to jump into and climb back down after setting the bomb. He rushed between cover, bracing himself and listening intently for any nearby enemy. He nearly tripped once, throwing himself to the ground behind a car when a pack of five Skitters suddenly rushed by, darting at a breakneck pace towards the structure.
Jimmy carefully picked himself off the ground and hurried the same direction, pausing at the end of the street where he would find the structure and poking his head partially round, expecting to find those Skitters waiting for him, but save for the iridescent mass stretching skyward the street was empty. He wrinkled his brow and stepped towards the structure, breath hitched in his throat. The structure, up close he couldn't call it that, it looked almost organic, like a large pile of mold creeping across the street and crawling over buildings, consuming everything in its wake. He bent near its edge, prepping the bomb, and fell onto his backside at a brush to his cheek, staring wide-eyed at the thing. It curled out a piece of itself, like a hand, towards him and he furrowed his brow, carefully picking himself up and eyeing the limb wearily. It stretched for him, and then sank back into itself, rippling and gurgling.
An urge came over Jimmy, and he stepped tentatively up beside the mass and brought his hand, trembling, towards it. Shuddering, it began to slowly reach back until it touched his fingertips, and a chill raced from that point the entire length of his arm and splashed into his chest, drilling cold like an icicle straight through his heart, as a million and one thoughts, voices, screaming, shouting, crying, whispering, soft, sweet, images, terrains all at once alien and familiar, creatures miraculous, people unknown, memories, some his own and some very certainly not, emotions, sorrow, happiness, anger, rage, pride, triumph, depression, joy, serendipity, love, everything rushed into him, through him, berating him all at one. He gasped, jerking his hand back and hugging it to himself, falling to a knee, crying out in shock and pain.
Black inkiness dripped across Jimmy's vision, a sickness swelling in his gut and threatening to spew his innards onto the street below. His body grew cold and his limbs heavy.
"Not now," he pleaded, "Please not now…"
Fumbling hands, Jimmy struggled to light the fuse and push himself to his feet. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe. He felt as though he was floating as he stumbled one foot in front of the other and he didn't realize he was collapsing until he awoke who knew how long later, a hand at his cheek gently prodding him to wakefulness.
"…mm…Ben?" he murmured, peeling his eyes open.
"You with me, kid?" greeted an entirely different, yet still familiar voice, and Jimmy forced his bleary vision to focus on the face staring concernedly down at him.
"Anthony?" Jimmy vaguely recognized.
"Great, now ask him how many fingers," a gruff voice muttered from the background, and with a great deal of pain, Jimmy tilted his head to get a better look at his surroundings, Pope hovered nearby glaring down at Jimmy. Jimmy was seated on the floor, and they were in a partially destroyed store of some kind.
"Jimmy, you okay? Look at me. Drink some water," Anthony insisted, lifting something to Jimmy's mouth.
Jimmy parted his lips slightly and a warm liquid, wondrous in its taste, tumbled across his cracked lips, dried tongue and down into his sore throat.
"Did it work?" Jimmy asked when he was done drinking, still dazed. He tried to sit up straighter, nearly blacked out again, sinking back and Anthony placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Steady…just stay right there…you took a good hit to the head, looks like," Anthony instructed, and Jimmy could feel the knot throbbing at the back of his head and thick, warm, ooze sticky in his hair and slick down his neck, "Did what work?"
"Bomb…the thing…alien thing…is it gone?" Jimmy stammered, the world becoming more painfully solid. He felt the sudden need to vomit, swallowed the bile back down, gagging somewhat, and making a face.
"That must have been the explosion we saw earlier," Anthony said over his shoulder to Pope and the other man gave a disinterested nod of his head, "Where did you get a bomb, Jimmy? Did you take one from camp?"
"No…would've been nice if I had, though...easier," Jimmy murmured, making another attempt at sitting up completely, but slower this time, "I made them…with fertilizer and…" he furrowed his brow, his memory was a bit fuzzy, "Other stuff."
Anthony gaped momentarily and Jimmy looked sheepish, shrugging.
"Regular junior chemist, we got here, huh?" Pope grumbled, shifting restlessly where he stood, pacing a few times.
"Well, whatever you used, it worked. That alien structure is gone and a huge chunk of the enemy is gone with it," Anthony said, flashing a quick grin of approval, then training his features stern again, "What the hell are you doing out here, Jimmy? We retreated from the community center, took cover in a church, mustered units, did a roll call…when you weren't there, everyone thought…shit, we all assumed the worst. Everything thinks you're dead."
"I really wish that would stop happening to me. I left during the first attack…wasn't by choice," Jimmy explained, gently inspecting his injuries, "Roman…the four I was training, they basically hijacked me. They wanted to go after Ben and Rick, I don't know why, and they needed me for…I don't know what…wait, why are you here? And where are we?"
"We're still in the city, in one of the abandoned shops. Looks like it used to be…a café, I guess," Anthony supplied, then clarified, "When we retreated from the center, Pope took off with a bunch of others…probably to escape."
"Well, excuse me, but I had plans and they didn't involve my dying with the lot of you," Pope muttered from the background, his words were slurring and he looked crankier than normal, "And for your information, mister former police officer turned nagging Nancy, our plans were to kick some ass. Go down in a blaze of glory, as opposed to your plans, which were…correct me if I'm wrong, cowering with the little children and waiting for the aliens to come and massacre you."
Jimmy furrowed his brow at the older man and then darted an uncertain glance at Anthony.
"He alright?" Jimmy wondered quietly.
"He's drunk," Anthony answered; a hint of reprove and slight amusement in his words, "They all are."
"Why?" Jimmy returned, though he knew the question was a little foolish, he suddenly found himself more concerned for his "saviors" than himself.
"Why? Well, why the hell are you short?" Pope snapped.
"Because I'm fourteen," Jimmy said, slightly indignant, "Wait…are you saying you're drunk because you're old?"
"No, I'm saying you're annoying because you're a kid," Pope replied smartly.
"Jimmy, just stop," Anthony recommended, "You shouldn't fight with drunks, you can't win."
"Which is why we got drunk," Pope pointed out, "To win."
Anthony sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose and Jimmy rubbed a hand over his face haggardly.
"Sans the drinking, they actually had a good idea. We had to abandon the heavy artillery truck during the community center evac, Pope and few others thought to go back and retrieve it then blast a path through the aliens. While the aliens were busy with the bulk of our fighters, they went around the long way," Anthony continued his explanations, "But things were too hot at the center, so they found some liquor and celebrated like it was their last night on earth instead. That's how I found them, wasted, and still planning to storm the enemy."
"All got to die someday," Pope grumbled.
"The kamikaze route was admirable, I admit, but I suggested we take some C4 bundles and carry out Ben's plan, at least there was a chance of survival in that, and if we got lucky, then it would draw the aliens off the 2nd Mass, give them a chance to retreat for real, and our lives wouldn't be sacrificed in vain," Anthony concluded, "We were about halfway here when we saw the explosion."
"Why'd you keep coming then?" Jimmy asked.
"We were still too far away to know what the fireworks were about, genius," Pope said.
"We didn't know the structure had been destroyed until we were actually in the district," Anthony clarified, "We wandered around a bit, Pope couldn't quite remember where the thing was supposed to be, and we happened to find you in the rubble…Tector spotted you, actually."
"Tector?" Jimmy repeated, he didn't put a face to the name.
"He's outside with the others on watch, you can thank him for saving your life later," Anthony said.
"Yeah, just as soon as we're out of 'Cootie-Ville'," Pope added.
"Looking at the area where we found you, all of the damage nearby, I would've thought you were caught in the explosion, and there was a lot of blood, your clothes were soaked…hell, I was sure you were dead when I saw you lying there, out cold," Anthony continued, and Jimmy distantly acknowledged that his garments were hardened with dry blood, "I'm beginning to think I should just stop thinking you're dead. We took you in like a stray cat, clearly you got nine lives. What the hell happened out there?"
"I don't know," Jimmy admitted, flashing back to the alien mass in front of him, reaching out to him, touching him, "I planted the bomb and then…" he thought of the cold feeling washing through him, his desperate attempt to stay conscious as he staggered far as possible from the bomb, "I guess I didn't get far enough away…got hit with the blast and knocked out. I guess the blood…" He thumbed through his memories, searching for the right ones, and when he couldn't find a proper explanation for his appearance, he went with the best lie he could find instead, "We had to fight the entire way to the alien thing; most of it's not mine."
"What about the others? Where are they?" Anthony questioned.
"I don't know," Jimmy repeated, "We made four bombs, we needed to lay them at different areas around the mass, spread out the explosive force, maximize the impact, and we had to ignite them manually at the same time. So we separated. Rick and Ben had dangerous routes to take, so they had to go alone, and I knew the way I needed to go would be easier for me to reach by myself, so I sent Roman and his friends together with the last bomb, safety in numbers, you know?"
There was a sound nearby, someone shuffling into the room. Jimmy shifted to get a better look, a slight man stood in the doorway, scruffy, dark-hair clipped close to his scalp. Pope and Anthony gave him their attention.
"More Skitters are leaving the area," the man reported, "We should probably move soon. Enemy units are light now, and there's no telling if they plan on coming back."
"Right. We'll get moving soon as Jimmy is feeling up to it," Anthony returned.
"Really? Because I think we should get moving, and if Jimmy wants to come, he should put his feelings aside and focus on keeping up," Pope suggested.
"You know, Pope, he's pretty much the reason we have any chance of getting out of this current mess alive, I think he deserves a few minutes," Anthony argued.
"It's okay, Anthony, I can move if we need to," Jimmy said, struggling to his feet and putting all of his effort into making it look far less painful and strained a movement than it actually was, "But we have to find Ben and the others. How long ago did the bombs go off?"
"Almost three hours ago," Anthony answered, "Where are they? Do you know? You guys set up a rendezvous point or something?"
"No," Jimmy murmured, dropping his eyes and silently reprimanding himself for not thinking of that during the planning, "We used the sewers to get the bombs planted. They were all supposed to wait where I left them in the sewers to be picked up. I had Ben see where they all were so that if anything happened to me he could still round them up and get them out of here. Assuming Ben followed the plan when I didn't show up, he gathered the others and then they probably left the sewers and made for the 2nd Mass."
"You think your little green friend followed the plan?" Pope wondered, examining his nails as though the current conversation were not worth his time. Anthony fixed Jimmy with an inquisitive expression.
"I don't know," Jimmy murmured, shrugging, "He didn't know where I'd gone, so stumbling around enemy territory looking for me after all hell's broke loose wouldn't exactly be the ideal option but…"
"But Ben has a very different understanding of 'ideal'," Anthony finished, muttering something that sounded like a string of curse words under his breath.
"You'd think the sons of a professor would be a hell of a lot smarter than those three Mason brats are," Pope remarked distantly, ignoring the darted glances of reproach from both Anthony and Jimmy, "Hopefully the others have enough brains to abandon the half-Cootie to his fool's errand, and we only lose the one idiot and not the whole lot of them. Did I say hopefully? Reverse that, hopefully we lose them all. Less mouths to feed and whining little…"
"I'm not leaving unless I know for certain Ben went back to reunite with the 2nd Mass," Jimmy stated quick and firm, though his voice's harsh rasp and inability to rise above a decibel at that moment, not to mention his sorry state drenched in blood and the gaping wound in his head, made the vow a little pathetic sounding, "Otherwise, I'm staying here and looking for him."
"Excellent. You stay here, look for your Cootie spawn – try the pound, they pick up mutts off the street all the time – and we'll leave," Pope declared giddily, "It's nothing personal, kid, but you'll only slow us down anyways, and that way we don't have to worry about your whining…"
"Pope, shut up," Anthony snapped, then setting Jimmy with a stern look, "That's not our best choice right now. I know you're eager to find out Ben's condition and whereabouts, but with no real certainty of whether he stayed or left, and no notion of a starting point to look for him in this place, you're just going to be walking around blind in an enemy stronghold. Our best bet is to return to the 2nd Mass, get our bearings straight, figure out where they are, if they're there than we don't waste our time out here and if Ben didn't return, and then we'll know for certain he's still here somewhere and we can figure out a rescue mission. Until then…"
The situation felt all too familiar, and a sense of dread spread thick through Jimmy, swirling in his stomach with a vile sickness. He thought of sitting in Dr. Glass's medical van, learning that the 2nd Mass spent two days, precious time that they could have used to relocate fast and far away, searching for him and the question that taste of bitter cotton that he had to scrape off his tongue: If it had been Ben…?
"And if no one wants to come back and look for them?" Jimmy demanded, shooting daggers Pope's direction, to the man standing awkwardly in the doorstep, to Anthony concerned and sympathetic, "Come on, Anthony, and think about it! Ben, Rick, the other four unharnessed kids, all of them together lost…no one back at camp wants them there, they don't like them, they don't care about them. And you know exactly what they're going to say, in one failed mission, the 2nd Mass dumps its entire razorback problem, guilt-free and hands clean. Fuck, nobody will want to come back and search for them."
"He's got a valid point," Pope noted, clapping his hands together and gleefully remarking, "Not that anyone here cares about those six half-breeds either. You're on a soap box preaching to the wrong choir, boy."
"You know Captain Weaver would never leave fighters behind like that," Anthony protested.
"And we both know Weaver will always ultimately make the choice that best ensures the group's survival," Jimmy returned heatedly, "If that means leaving Ben and the others here, then he'll have to make that choice, and you know…I know that's the choice he's going to make…to pull the group out of here, far, far away from here while there's still a chance…no hesitating, no looking back…if I leave here, and Ben didn't…I know…I know that means I won't ever see him again and that's not going to happen. I'm staying until I know where he is. If you and the others want to leave, than leave me, I can move through the city easier by myself anyways."
"Sounds good to me," Pope chirped.
"We aren't leaving anyone," Anthony argued.
"Then help me look for Ben," Jimmy cried, exasperated.
Anthony sighed and the man in the doorway shifted uncomfortably. Pope rolled his eyes.
"Um…" the man at the doorway began, all eyes turning on him, "You said you used the sewers to get around the district?"
"Yeah," Jimmy mumbled.
"Isn't it like a maze down there? How'd you get around…?"
"Oh…Tector, this is Jimmy," Anthony suddenly introduced, "He's the orphan from Dorchester…?"
"Ah, I see," Tector murmured, dropping his gaze again, a small semblance of realization spreading in his features.
"Yeah, that's right, I'm the fucking sewer rat from Dorchester," Jimmy muttered, turning his cheek and glaring at the far wall. He really was getting tired of people talking about him at camp, spreading his personal business around. He didn't even want to think about which of the men in that room, if not all of them, knew the full extent of his relationship with Ben and what they really thought of his determination to stay and find the missing 'razorbacks'.
"No, I was just thinking," Tector faltered, shrugged, "2nd Mass is still pretty bogged down if the numbers on those units is right in my head and a lot of those troops are probably going to be heading right back this direction soon as they get wind that their giant shiny ball is broken. Getting back to the group might prove difficult, unless…"
"Unless we can use the sewers," Anthony finished for him, and then smirked darkly at Pope, "I think we just found a reason why we can't leave Jimmy behind."
"Great. Now convince me why we don't just toss him down the drain and force him to show us the way home?" Pope demanded.
"Well, for starters, you'd have to get through me if you plan on 'tossing' him anywhere," Anthony growled.
"That one's easy enough, what's number two?" Pope sneered, leering at Anthony.
"Number two is, gun to my head, I won't leave without Ben," Jimmy spoke up, attempting to raise his voice as loudly as he could, despite the ripples of pain it shot down his throat.
"You're really starting to annoy me, kid," Pope complained, and Jimmy hid his grimace, last thing he needed in his life was to be on Pope's vindictive radar, "Great. I guess we're staying and mounting a search and rescue then. So how are we going to play this? We just wander through the alien infested streets screaming 'Marco'?"
"Jimmy, we have to think about this realistically, alright? This is needle in a haystack, right here. We'll stay for a little while, do the best we can, but we can't take too long," Anthony said, "I'll give you an hour, two at most, but then we really have to meet up with the 2nd Mass, and I promise, if it comes down to it, I will do everything I can to ensure that a search party comes back here."
"If one doesn't, then I will," Jimmy replied grimly.
"I know," Anthony softly conceded, and then announced, "Our best bet is to get to higher ground and get a look around the district, see if we can't spots the kids wandering the streets. Jimmy, you're sure they would leave the sewers…?"
"They wouldn't know how to get around down there without me," Jimmy answered, shrugging and sheepishly noting, "I was their guide, without me their lost."
"There's no possibility they could've figured out how to get around in the sewers on their own?" Tector wondered.
"I don't know. I doubt it. Took me two months to learn the ins and outs of Dorchester's sewer systems, and I had someone teaching me at first," Jimmy explained, then winced, chastising himself for spilling too much information, and hastily moving on in hopes of hiding his slip of tongue, "I think if they are still here, the only reason for it would be to search for me, so they would probably be hovering somewhere around where the structure was, it would of been my last known location."
"Right, so that'll be our first stop," Anthony decided, carefully moving to help Jimmy towards the door, hand loosely gripping the young boy's shoulder, not too intrusive but providing a much needed support for the obviously unstable Jimmy, "Tector, take Boon and run scout. Pope, mind guarding flank while I keep an eye on Jimmy?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Pope muttered bitterly, obviously sore of the entire turnout, "But since you asked so nicely, mister police officer, I think I'll make an exception for you and rat boy."
They stepped outside where three other fighters were waiting, a couple men and a frizzy haired, stone-faced woman. The three straightened, at attention, when Anthony and Pope exited the building. Tector moving to stand with a scrawny looking blond-haired man, whispering something to him, most likely relaying Anthony's earlier orders. Jimmy recognized the gathered adults, though not by name, he knew them all to be some of the most vocally anti-anything alien around camp; they propagated some of the worst theories about Ben and the other unharnessed kids. Suddenly the air felt a lot colder, and a sickness swirled in Jimmy's gut, if there was any group least likely to want to stick around very long searching for the six most unwanted kids in camp, it would be these people.
"We have six missing teenagers in the area, and a general idea where they might be," Anthony announced, "We're going to spend a couple hours looking for them, then Jimmy here is going to take us back to the 2nd Mass using the sewers, the kid knows his way around down there, and we can get back to camp quick and easy."
The bulkier of the men gathered gave Jimmy a reproving, yet knowing glare and demanded, "What 'teenagers' are we looking for exactly?"
"2nd Mass teenagers," Anthony clarified, with a hint of a threat in his tone that made it painstakingly obvious the man's suspicions about those teenagers' identities were correct, "If you don't want to help look, you're more than welcome to head back to camp on your own, but I guarantee, you'll wish you'd come with us. Anyone want to go ahead and leave now then?"
The adults all shifted uncomfortably, some averted their gaze, but none volunteered to leave.
"Good," Anthony declared, "Boon and Tector are scout; Pope is on flank with Crazy Lee, Lyle, bringing up the rear. We're heading back to where that alien structure stood; looking for a building that can put us up over the area. You ready to move Jimmy?"
"No," Jimmy whispered, then set his jaw and evenly returned, "I'm ready to find Ben."
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A/N: So, this chapter is actually very important-ish. All the chapters are important, I think, if you're paying attention anyhow. Also, I got to write a lot of Anthony is this chapter, I love Anthony, so yeah, expect me to give him a bigger role in the 2nd Mass than he got on the show (in my opinion, anyhow...later rant for a later time, maybe).
Let me know what you think!
Reviewers: SassySavanna190, he is a git. I love your UK slangage. I'm tired and rambling, ignore. Yeah, no one's life is roses and rainbows in my world. Roses and rainbows are for dead people and leprechauns. All I can say at this point is what I think I've already said at some point previously, and that is this: they are not flashbacks. The end. Wait, nope, there's more. Plenty more. Look forward to it, I know I do. Cookie97, you and me both on that bullying front. I'm glad you liked it despite. Bullying is one of my biggest pet peeves, it's kind of why I get in so much trouble with trolls on the net, I can't stand people harassing other people, I just got to say something...I get myself in trouble. Sigh. Caswiee, where's chapter 2 of your fic? Are you still working on it? I'm glad you liked Ben's vision thing. I'm kind of trying to bridge his past with his present feelings for Jimmy, probably not doing a good job of it because other stuffs happening in those vision/flash/blackout things too that I'm trying to hint at and not give too much away on at the same time and all I can honestly say is that whatever you think is happening is not happening and I need to call it a night.
See you guys next Sunday! Peace and beef jerky.