Warnings: Mild Slash (Colt/Punk) AU setting, Profanity.
"Well, Mr Brooks... Now that you've returned, shall we continue?" Heyman turns from Phil, and resumes droning about the many benefits of training.
'Where were you?' Scott's voice over the link is dripping with concern, his thumb moving over the back of Phil's hand in a slow absent circle.
'Not here... I'll tell you but not here.' Phil keeps his eyes focused on the back of Heyman's head, silently hoping that his cobbled together and untested shields will hold should Heyman decide to try and breach them. Those brothers keep playing on his mind, he can feel the little knot of something that represents the relay point for the link he set up between them throbbing slightly, trickles of biting pain bleeding over to him. There's nothing good in this place, between the child strapped to the table and the one in his dark cell with the even darker mind, nothing good at all. The only child that seemed even remotely normal was the one who asked for help. He wants to know what Heyman's doing here, what's the point of keeping these children locked up in a facility that seems full of nothing but drones and rows and rows of classrooms, all filled with talents without thoughts. 'Scott...'
'What is it?' More concern and a tight squeeze of his hand.
'Have you passed any dormitories?' Phil has a terrible, awful thought, and he doesn't want it to be true, doesn't want to think about just how powerful Heyman is if his idea is the truth. Surprise bleeds over the link, and Scott stops walking, his eyes wide.
'No...' He turns to look at Phil, the colour draining from his face. 'No dorms, no canteens, no bathrooms... What'd you think it means?' Phil frowns and tugs at his hand to keep him moving, not wanting to draw Heyman's attention to them again.
'Fuck not now... Just not now, Scott... Later, once, fuck, if we get out of here.' Phil can feel himself beginning to panic. There's no way. There's no chance that Heyman can be powerful enough to be convincing all of them that this place is real when it's not. There's no way that every one of these rooms aren't really there, that they're all a construct Heyman has them convinced is real to lure them into his clutches, there's no way that can be true. Yet, it would explain why there are no thoughts outside of the group, would explain why every corridor looks the same, why there are no bathrooms, nowhere to sleep, nowhere to eat, illusions don't need these things. What if those kids weren't real either? What if they're just Heyman playing with him? It definitely seems like something Heyman would do, definitely the sort of trick he'd play, but why? Why go to all the trouble of toying with Phil like that?
"Well, ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our little tour." The group has arrived back at the little holding room, and Heyman turns to face them with a broad smile. "I hope you found it informative." He smiles, his eyes flickering over the group. Curiosity gets the better of Phil and he peeks at Heyman's mind, the cool, smooth shields are firmly in place, nothing's out of place, nothing out of the ordinary, at least for Heyman.
'Is Heyman's brain wired like mine?' If they're wired the same then Scott should be able to see if the parts of Heyman's brain currently working are similar to the ones Phil uses when he playing the invisible man trick. The two tricks are similar, both are illusions, it's just this place, if it isn't real, is on a much grander scale than fooling some people into not seeing him and Scott sitting on a park bench.
'Well, mostly, it's a little more... Uh... Busy? But on the whole, it's the same. Why?' Scott sounds confused, his lips set in a firm little frown.
'You know when I make people not see us? You know the bits of my brain that use, right?' Phil squeezes Scott's hand and knows he's practically broadcasting hope over their link, he needs the answer to this riddle, needs to know as much as he can.
'The same bit of Heyman's brain's been lit up the whole time...' Scott says softly over the link, managing to look even paler. Phil nods tightly, almost certain this whole place is nothing more than an illusion woven by Heyman, but now the question remains: what's behind the illusion? What is he hiding?
"It would of course, be unfair to ask you all to make your decision on whether to accept our kind offer of training on the spot." Heyman's greasy smile hasn't slipped, his eyes narrowed as he stares at Phil. One of the drones walks up, carrying a large box, filled with pamphlets. He hands one to each member of the group. On the front of the pamphlet is a picture of a large school building, written inside is some spiel about a training facility, and how the holder of the pamphlet has been offered a scholarship there. Phil doesn't doubt that this is the cover story for what ever this Developmental really is, also doesn't doubt that if he looked into this further it would all check out and seem wonderful. "Ladies and gentlemen, the minibus is waiting to take you all back home. Now please remember, whilst you have two weeks to make your decision, if you change your mind at a later date after refusing this offer, we will always welcome you with open arms." The group files out the door, the little holding room emptying of all thoughts but Scott's buzzing quietly over the link.
'Heyman, we didn't come in a bus.' Phil glares over at Heyman, and the man laughs quietly, rubbing his hands together with that slimy smile still on his face
"No, Philip, no, you didn't... You see and your friend there." Heyman steps closer, and before Phil can protest, Scott has stepped in front of him, keeping himself between Heyman and Phil. "You're special." Heyman pats Scott on the head, the expression on Heyman's face patronisingly smug. "You two... Really you're one of the few reasons we're even in this city." Heyman steps away and Phil can feel fury bleeding over the link with Scott.
'What? What did he say to you?' He asks, the anger Scott's feeling is dark and stormy, alarming considering his normally cheerful disposition.
'Nothing... Nothing, Phil.' Scott tries for reassuring but fails miserably, and Phil snorts, resting his forehead on Scott's back, knowing it's foolish to ignore Heyman, but needing his friend to stop being so very furious, it's clouding Phil's own thoughts, the storm of Scott's rage is almost all encompassing.
'We need out of here in one piece, Scott... Calm down.' The incredibly stupid urge to wrap his arms around Scott's waist comes over Phil, he's none too sure where it came from, but it's undeniably there, this need to offer his friend some paltry physical comfort, but he resists, instead steps away from Scott a little to lean against the wall.
"I'm sure I told it you was rude to have two conversations at once." Heyman drawls, bored irritation oozing from his voice. "But no matter. This offer is most specifically for you both. I won't lie." At this he moves, casually leaning against a different wall, his arms folded over his chest. "Telepaths are... Rare." He laughs at this, and Phil steps out from behind Scott, moves so he can watch Heyman, utterly unsurprised when Scott grabs his hand, hauling back close. "Well, that's not exactly true... Do you remember what we talked about Philip?" Heyman smiles lazily, examining a fingernail with bored detachment. "Most of us get lost long before they reach your age, Philip, and those who don't get lost... Well hearing voices isn't normal, is it?" He straightens up, a wry smile on his face. "Of every talent known to my organisation, telepaths have the highest... Mortality rate." Phil swallows heavily staring at Heyman, as something almost like a real smile settles on the face pudgy face. The scenarios he just described don't exactly sound appealing.
"So you're saying, Phil's choices are join you or die?" Scott growls, tugging Phil behind him once more and Heyman shakes his head, that wry smile still on his face.
'Down boy.' Phil murmurs over the link, stamping down the little part of him that's almost ecstatic over being defended so staunchly. If this is friendship, he thinks he could get used to it, the fierce protective stance of Scott, the almost burning warmth of emotion coming over the link, these are things he could definitely learn to live with very easily.
"I'm saying that Phil's choices are your choices, Mr Colton." Heyman shakes his head again, moving back to the wall, watching them with a bored expression. "Telepaths are powerful, but we're intrinsically..."
"Flawed?" Phil mutters, peeking over Scott's shoulder. "We're too vulnerable, too often... We need someone else to help us..." He trails off. Him to find Scott, that's what they were waiting for. Telepaths need a biopath to keep them sane, incredible power but with major gaping flaws that only someone who can manipulate their brain can fix for them. Forget friendship, Heyman is telling him that he needs Scott for the sake his sanity and more than likely life.
"You are a smart one, Mr Brooks." Heyman laughs. "All I want is to help you... Both of you. Your Philip is a rather precious creature, and in the right hands, with the right training, you both could be very wealthy men." Over the link something odd bleeds from Scott, something dark and angry, but warm and soft, a feeling that is thoroughly contradictory with itself. One of the drones scurries up to Heyman, and a scowl forms on his face. "Gentlemen, Mr Lesnar ca-"
"We'll walk, it's all good." Scott cuts in. "Two weeks, right? We'll let you know. C'mon Phil." His hand wraps around Phil's bicep and he tugs him out the door, all but running from the warehouse. Several blocks away, Scott stops and pulls Phil into a hug. His arms wrapping around him tightly, a deluge of relief comes over the link. 'Don't do that again. Don't ever fucking do that again, you stupid little punk.' Phil stands there, returning the embrace, because it truly is less of a hug and more of an embrace, shaking slightly. Adrenaline coursing through his veins and the whole mess of what just happened and the un-rebuked words of Heyman to Scott your Philip dancing through his mind.
'Do what?' He asks, tucking his face against Scott's neck, feeling one of his hands coming up to rest on the back of his head, the left over pain from the kid in the cell's attack fading. He tries very hard to ignore just how safe, how comfortable he feels in Scott's arms, feels as though is the only place he's ever really belonged, because it's a stupid idea, not one to be indulged.
'Vanish.' Scott hisses over the link. 'You were... Gone! For a few seconds in there, you were gone. What ever it was you did, don't do it again.' Scott holds him out at arms' length, fingers digging into his shoulders. "I'm serious. Don't ever do that again." Phil nods slightly, he doesn't doubt that it was when the kid in the dark cell attacked him that he was gone, and he's in no hurry to be attacked like that again, Scott doesn't need to worry about that.
"C'mon, let's just get out of here." Phil starts walking, not really focussing on anything, just wanting to put as much distance between himself and that warehouse as possible.
"Wait up." Scott jogs up behind him, bumping into his shoulder lightly. 'Wanna tell me what happened in there then?' The familiar flood of concern comes over the link, and Phil sighs, shaking his head. He's not sure how to explain what happened in there, he's not sure how to put it into words for himself, nevermind someone else.
'Lemme think about it.' There's a grim little church just up the street that Phil's wound up in several times in the past. 'Scott, do me a favour? Meet me in the park about twelve, okay?' Scott glances over at him, concern on his face. 'I need to think... Some stuff happened and I need to think about it. I'll be... Bad company till I've got this sorted.' Phil manages a half-hearted smile, and Scott nods.
"You got till twelve sharp at the park, I'll feed you." He pulls Phil into another tight hug, that feeling that Phil's certain must be friendship fills him as he returns the hug, his face pressed against Scott's neck again.
'Good, now piss off.' Phil steps away, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling rather stupid once he realises he's doing it. Scott's nervous habits are rubbing off on him, but he's no reason to be nervous around his friend.
"Later." 'Don't do something stupid, you dumb little punk.' Scott crosses the street and is lost in the sea of humanity, even if his thoughts remain a happy little hum in the corner of Phil's mind, he can't see his friend at all.
'I'll leave being dumb to you, Colton.' A snort of amusement is all that comes back over the link, and Phil walks into the church, taking a seat near the back and closing his eyes. Years of concentrated piety make churches very different to most other places. He's not sure if bricks and mortar can store thoughts, but different places tend to inspire different mindsets in people. Malls are always tinged with boredom, subways stations with manic panic and churches with the blanketing air of dulled reservation. There's not many devote people in on a Saturday morning but Phil isn't really here to play god, he's there to think. He and Scott, they're one of the reasons Heyman is in the city, but only one of the reasons, there has to be others and he wants to know what they are. How long have he and Scott been on the radar for Heyman's organisation, the idea that somewhere there's a dossier on him scares him slightly, and how did they find out about him, about Scott, in the first place, are there spies hidden throughout the city? These aren't really questions he can answer just by sitting trying to puzzle them out, only Heyman knows the answers, and that poses a whole host of problems. There's no way Heyman is going to tell him anything willingly. It doesn't seem to matter what Phil wants, Heyman and his employers want Phil, and it seems they're willing to go some way to ensure they get him. How far they're willing to go he isn't sure, but this whole set-up is kind of elaborate just to fetch him. The answers are in that warehouse, the only solution is to go back. He needs to go back, there's no question of that, but he needs to go back when Heyman isn't expecting it, when he's off guard so Phil can see the truth of the place, because there is no way what they were shown around today is what's really there, there's no chance of that at all. He needs to know what is there. What it really comes down to, is he needs to know if those kids are real. He needs to know if the pain burning through the boy strapped to the table's vein was real, if the horrors of the mind of the kid in the dark were something that a real person has to live with, if the little boy who asked for his help really is that scared. If these kids are real, if they're not just some clever ploy, then there's no question of what he has to do, there's no question that he has to help them, he has to bring down Heyman, but that brings up how. He sighs, glancing at his watch, he needs to leave, needs to get back to Scott. His friend who he needs so he doesn't go insane, an interesting revelation from Heyman, about the only thing he learnt in that warehouse that didn't fill him with dread. That the deficiency of his power calls out to Scott's own, that he needs his friend. It explains the strangely at once comfortable and uncomfortable warmth that fills him when he's near Scott make sense, kind of, sort of at least, but that explanation doesn't feel quite right, it feels lacking somehow. He catches the subway, standing uncomfortably close to a young couple, their thoughts screaming newlywed and stupidly in love. At least that's how they interpreted the warm, comfortable feelings towards each other, warm comfortable feelings desperately like the ones he feels in Scott's arms, desperately similar to the feelings he as when he lies in Scott's bed at night, his hand clamped tightly in Scott's. Phil sighs, and scrubs at his eyes, love, potentially another problem to add to his list, yet feelings are fickle things, and he's not entirely certain love does exist, it's something that people like the couple he leaves behind on the subway use to explain their mutual need for each other's attention, but doesn't he want Scott's attention too? Doesn't he enjoy the constant closeness brought about by their link; doesn't he keep clinging to Scott's hand because he wants to feel close to his friend?
"Phil, you're heading for the wrong bench, buddy." Scott's voice shakes him out of his thoughts, and he turns round, realising he'd wandered past their usual spot.
"Sorry... Was miles away." He perches on the bench, watching as the sparrows hop over hopefully; their little minds all animalistic chirping.
"I noticed... I see what you meant about people never stopping thinking. I could hear you the whole time." Scott laughs, and starts rooting around in the paper bag between them. "Food for you, and food for your birds." He hands Phil a sandwich, and a bag of torn up bread.
"My birds?" Phil mutters, opening the sandwich wrapper and taking a bite, far hungrier than he'd realised.
"They ignored my ass, till you showed up. They like you way more than me." Scott laughs, stretching out his arms along the back of the bench, his thoughts taking on that melodic hum. It's nice sitting like this in the sunshine, eating, watching the birds hop around pecking the ground in case they've missed any of the bread Phil's been throwing to them. It's so far removed from the horrors of the morning that it'd be easy to forget they even went to that warehouse.
"You could hear me?" That little throwaway comment had lodged in his mind, he's more than a little worried that he'd been broadcasting every little thought to Scott, worried and more than a little embarrassed by the idea, especially about him hearing his musings in the subway.
"It's... It's like there's this little... I don't know... Buzz? Hum, maybe... It's..." Scott rubs the back of his neck, and laughs nervously, mild embarrassment seeps over the link and Phil nods, he knows how it feels from his side of the link, and it's basically the same. "I... I like it though, lets me know you're okay." His hand very carefully brushes the back of Phil's neck, and that warmth trickles through Phil once more. 'I worry... You're a fucking mess.' Scott laughs, and Phil scowls over at him, throwing a handful of torn up bread down for the birds. 'I... In a good way.' Scott's fingers brush his neck again and Phil frowns, turning to watch the little brown birds flapping at each other in territorial disputes.
"Whatever, Colton." Phil mutters, eyes narrowed, staring at the birds. "We need to go back to the warehouse." Phil says calmly, throwing more bread to the birds, watching them fight and bicker over each crumb, the buzzing of their minds reminding him of that dark little cell and its occupant. He knows he's only focusing on the situation they're in to distract him from the sting offence at Scott's almost insult, because there's no reason to be offended. Phil is a mess, he knows this, and Scott often points it out, but he'd wanted something else to be the reason for all of Scott's concern.
"Like hell we do, Phil." Scott snorts, the hand of the arm resting along the back of the bench ruffles Phil's hair. "There's no chance in hell, I'm going back there." Phil stands, turning to him with a scowl. He'd hoped Scott would trust him, would understand, but friends don't exist, he should have known at the end of the day he'd be on his own in this.
"Fine. Thank you for the help." Phil starts walking away, his chest feeling oddly tight, and his mind heavy, he'd probably over-reacting, probably being overly dramatic, but he wanted Scott's trust, wanted Scott's help. He gets all the way to the park entrance before Scott catches up to him, and spins him around, crowding him up against the park's parameter wall, his eyes narrowed and focused, staring at Phil with incredible intensity.
"Phil... Are you insane? You can't go there again... I won't let you go back." Scott's fingers dig into his shoulders, sharp firm little points of pressure, concern warring with something Phil doesn't know streams over the link. 'You'll get hurt... Again. Phil... Heyman wants your talent or at least whoever the fuck he works for wants it and I don't think there's much they won't do to get it. You can't just go walking back into the lion's mouth, you stupid punk.'
'Colton, I have to know. I need to know how much of that place was... Real.' Phil sighs, his hands resting on Scott's wrists. "I need to know if those kids were real, or just part of Heyman's game."
"Kids? What kids? It doesn't matter, Phil, the whole thing reeks of being a trap." Scott lets him take his hands; lets Phil tangle their fingers together.
"It does." Phil squeezes their laced fingers and lets Scott go, slipping away from where he was pinned. "But I can't not go... I..." Phil sighs, and wraps his arms around himself, walking away once more. If those kids are real, he can't just leave them there, he promised them he'd help them, and he won't break that promise, he can't, even if he's on his own, he's managed fine on his own so far, and if he does go mad, or get lost or something else, he wants to have at least tried to help those children first.
"Phil!" The way Scott says his name has Phil freezing in his tracks, a shiver running down his spine. No one has ever made his name sound like that before. "Stupid damn punk..." Scott's arms wrap around him, his chin digging into Phil's shoulder. The people walking past stare at them, in an experiment Phil plays with their perceptions, trying to make them perceive him differently, to make them see something more normal than two boys standing around hugging in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday. It's kind of depressing how every one of these people expect him to be a hormonal girl fighting with her boyfriend, at least they imagine him to be a halfway good looking girl, if a little flat-chested.
"I have to know, Scott." He says softly, as he tries to free himself from Scott's arms, he's rather sick of the old ladies walking their dogs wondering why such a nice boy is dating such a scruffy looking girl. "I can't not know..."
"Fine, but what are you going to do? Find out and then what?" Scott lets him go, but catches his hand refusing to let go, even when he tries to pull it back.
"I don't know!" Phil scowls giving up trying to free himself, and glares at Scott. "I've got no fucking clue alright, but I can't just leave them there. They're kids, Scott, little children locked up in there, I can't, I just can't."
"If these kids are there in the first place." Scott starts walking, dragging Phil along with him. "This might all be a mind fuck from Heyman. This might be his fucking ploy to get you to go back there, Phil. I... We... Damn it, just think about this." He stops and turns to glare back at Phil. 'You could get hurt... Again... I don't... I can't let that happen, Phil, you're my friend.'
'Then come with me.' It's a simple statement; one Phil hopes covers the sting of misplaced disappointment that came over him when all Scott said he was Phil's friend. He's no reason to feel disappointed, having a friend is a good thing, a wonderful thing, but not too many friendships he's witnessed have involved this much hand holding, not many friendships are wrapped up in warm soft emotions like theirs is, yet friend is how Scott sees him.
"Phil..." That tone of voice is one Phil is either going to have to ask Scott to never use again or more often so he gets used to it, so it stops making electricity dance up his spine. 'Fuck... This is a stupid fucking idea, you know this, you manipulative punk.' Scott pulls him in for a hug, wraps him up tight, and seems to sway slightly from side to side. 'When?'
'Tonight... He won't be expecting it. I... We need to catch him off guard.' Phil reluctantly pulls away from Scott, carefully ignores the part of him that wants to be back in Scott's arms. "C'mon, let's head back to your place, I'll explain more there." Phil starts walking, knowing that Scott will be following.
Phil flops on Scott's bed and stares up at the ceiling, his limbs sprawled messily in every direction, taking up far too much space really, leaving barely enough room for Scott to perch on the edge of the bed and stare down at him.
"You gonna tell me what happened then?" Scott's finger trails over his forehead, the tangled mess of his brain is soothed under that gentle touch, there's a soft smile on Scott's face, something fond in his eyes, the link humming peaceably. It's almost enough for Phil to want to forget Heyman, forget that warehouse and those kid, almost enough to make him want to lie like this forever.
'When I left you, it was cause someone asked me for help... Some kid, so I went looking for them.' Phil closes his eyes; Scott's caress is quite distracting, but he needs to share the story so he forges on. 'I didn't find the kid I was looking for though.'
'No? What happened?' That gentle touch moves down his cheek, almost to his lips, before Scott takes his hand away, and stands. Phil can hear him moving around the room, but doesn't open his eyes to watch; instead, he focuses on his memories, and not how much he wanted Scott's fingers to trace his lips, how much he wanted Scott's lips on his own.
'There was a room... A cell really, in it there was another kid and...'
'He attacked you? That's when you were... Gone?' Scott lies down beside him, takes his hand, and strokes the back of Phil's knuckles.
'Uh-huh... I... I set up some kind of link between the two of them, and went looking for the third.' Phil opens his eyes to look at Scott, the pressure on his hand had increased when he told him he'd set up a link between the two kids. He's lying glaring up at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tightly. "It's not the same as our link, Scott." Phil says softly, not sure why but he feels the need to explain that. "It's like being a phone mast really." He laughs softly, and Scott's jaw relaxes.
"So the third kid?" He says tightly, still glaring, still looking tense.
"They were torturing him." Phil finishes quietly. "I... I can show you, if you want." Scott nods, and Phil closes his eyes again, plucking out the memories from his time away from Scott in the warehouse, letting them filter over the link, feeling Scott's discomfort and growing horror at what Phil witnessed. He's shaking slightly once Phil stops the feed, anger and concern bleeding over the link. 'You okay?' Phil asks softly, Scott nods, and pulls him closer, tucking Phil's head under his chin, his hands running up and down his back soothingly. The anger coming from him being replaced by that soft, warm emotion.
"Go to sleep, Phil, get some rest... It's... This is probably going to be an interesting night. We'll need you firing on all cylinders." The soft strokes to his back, the lowering volume of the voices in his head, the sound of Scott's heartbeat beneath his ear, it all soothes Phil to sleep easily.
"Urgh, okay, I guess we should go." Its pitch black out when Phil wakes up, Scott groans miserably and lets go of Phil, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah." He stands and starts pulling his shoes on, not watching as Phil gets ready, his shoes put on quickly, and he starts pacing, feeling restless, feeling like he needs to be moving somehow.
"Scott... There's a good chance this isn't gonna work out too well for us... And I..." Phil sighs, stopping his pacing and fidgeting slightly, this feels rather like a now or never situation. This idea is likely to go very badly, or very well, there's no in betweens, and on top of the Heyman mess, all day he's been forced to examine his feelings for Scott, because there are some kind of feelings there. He doesn't believe in love, doesn't think it's real, probably at least, but there's something between him and Scott, there's something more there, at least on his side, he wants more than their friendship, wants something extra. What he's not entirely sure, but he does. 'Kiss me.' Over the link comes an influx of shock, Scott staring at him in confusion, and Phil can feel a blush forming on his cheeks, he really needs to think things through more carefully really, he's quite sure that wasn't what he wanted to say to Scott just then, but he's not sure he regrets asking for a kiss.
'Kiss you? Phil...' Scott stares at him, his eyes wide, shock still pouring over the link. 'Phil... I don't thin-' It's not an elegant thing in the least, but then Phil's never kissed anyone in his life before, has seen the mechanics of it in people's heads plenty, but has never actually done it. He's certain there should be more to it than just this press of lips on lips, and banged noses, but what he's not entirely certain. Scott's hands come up and rest on his shoulders, pushing him away, an odd little smile on his face. "You're horrible at this." He laughs, drawing Phil closer once more and moves his lips over Phil's gently. One of his hands tangling in Phil's hair, as the other moves down his back, pulling him to Scott, their chests pressed together. It's a chaste thing really, closed mouthed and so very soft, but it leaves Phil standing, staring wide-eyed and a grin on his face. "There, one kiss. Let's go, yeah?" Scott lets him go, and turns back to finish tying his shoes. Phil's can feel his lips almost tingle, his fingers brushing over them, tracing the stupid grin he can feel on them. His first kiss. His first kiss from his first friend. Scott's a lot of firsts for him really, and that thought makes him blush even more. "Phil?" Scott's standing in front of him, an odd look on his face, waving his hand in front of Phil's eyes. 'You alright in there?' His omnipresent concern floods the link, and Phil snaps out of his happy little daze, the gravity and stupidity of what they're about to do, and possibly what they've just done, washing over him. He takes a deep breath and nods, focussing on the task at hand and not his stupid crush. He's rather grimly certain that what this feeling is, a stupid, childish crush, which is highly inconvenient if he's honest.
"I'm good, I'm good." He pulls his coat on, and scrubs his eyes. 'Right... Reconnaissance part two? Let's go.'
Many thanks to the lovely Ladies and Gentlemen who reviewed:
Rebellecherry: Ha, I don't think you'd be alone in having a few lewd thoughts. ;) The warehouse is a creepy place for sure! :-/
AshJohvillette: They are indeed little baby Hounds of Justice. ;)
littleone1389: Some more fluffy here, and more of Scott being Phil's firsts. ;) Okay... so yes, the kids are little baby Shield... As for saving, well something will happen I assure you of that! :)
shiki94: It was a rather small taste but one all the same. Eerie is a good word for the warehouse, for sure! Easy enough getting out this time, if nothing else. :)
Brokenspell77: I'm relieved you think so! :) I'm sure your suspicions are quite correct! ;)
alizabethianrose: You are finally all caught up! I'm very pleased! Gold star!
As ever trepidation haunts me with this fic... as such: Please leave a review, even if it's just "Hey, that didn't suck", I'd be so far and beyond grateful. Heck even if you thought it did suck, tell me too, something is better than nothing after all. :D