Warnings: Slash (Colt/Punk), AU setting, Profanity.
'I should go.' Scott wakes him up early with a soft kiss, the love in his eyes only matched by the warmth of it over the link. 'My mom'll be up soon.' Phil nods at him, and pulls him back for another kiss, clinging when Scott moves to try and get out of bed. 'C'mon Punkers, I'm supposed to be sleeping on the couch.' Scott gives up trying to pry Phil off quickly, concedes to letting Phil make himself comfortable on top of him once more.
'Take the block down.' Phil nuzzles against him, and slowly the World trickles back into Phil's mind. Scott's mother is awake, but she's debating getting up, she thinks it's too early, and she's surprised that Scott really did sleep downstairs all night. She'd gone to check at about three a.m. and he'd been snuggled up under the blankets she'd left for him. She's surprised by what a good little gentleman she's raised. If she'd been Scott, she'd have sneaked upstairs and slept with Philippa. 'Your mom's awake.' Phil stretches, moves off of Scott grabbing his sleep clothes from the floor, pulling them back on, then tossing Scott's to him. 'She's surprised you slept downstairs all night.' Scott laughs, and putting his pyjamas on, before pulling Phil back to him.
'I am too, especially as my cute little Phil was sleeping in my bed all alone. I should have come made sure you were warm enough at least.' He kisses Phil softly, his fingers touching Phil's face gently. 'Last night, I meant what I said, you know that.' Phil glances away from him, feels impossibly guilty for not being able to be more definitive in his own feelings, but he's never been in love before, isn't sure if it's love or just something very close to it that he feels for Scott.
'I know... And I-'
'Shh. I just want to make sure you know it.' Scott kisses him, wrapping him up tightly in his arms. 'So... The chances of this whole thing going to plan?'
'Slim to none?' Phil laughs softly, his own arms wrapping around Scott, trying to keep them pressed together as tightly as possible. He's not hopeful for this rescue mission, isn't hopeful that this whole thing is going to go smoothly, but there's nothing else they can do now. The plan is what it is, and they need to work with what they've got.
'Such an optimist, my little Punkers.' Scott squeezes him tightly, and Phil can hear Scott's mother's deciding to check and see if her little gentleman really did remain chivalrous all night.
'Your mom's coming. You wanna be here or not?' Phil closes his eyes, feigning sleep. He's pretty certain that Scott's mother would be slightly disappointed to find Scott hadn't come to cuddle Philippa in her sleep, but if Scott doesn't want his mother to know he's there, it's not great hassle to trick the woman into seeing only a sleeping Philippa.
'I can't remember the last time I pretended to be asleep to try and fool my mom.' Scott buries his face against Phil's hair, and the door cracks open. The only thought Scott's mother has is that she wishes she'd taken the camera with her. Her baby boy and his little girlfriend are ridiculously cute all wrapped around each other and it should be preserved for posterity.
The day they spend with Scott's family, his mother insisting that Philippa stays for breakfast, then lunch that ended up being a picnic in the park, and finally dinner back home. Phil's certain he's never eaten better in his life, is certain he's never felt more comfortable in a family setting either. He was told all manner of tales to go with the quilt, most of them had Scott squawking and pleading that he'd only been a child when all of these things happened. If this is his last day on Earth, Phil's entirely certain it's going to be okay. There's not another day he's lived through that's been even close to this good.
Eventually though, it's time to go, and it's the first time in his life that Phil's been given a goodbye kiss from a mother, it might not have been from his own mother, but it feels special all the same. The muffins he'd been gifted as a goodbye present are still warm, though not quite as warm as the feelings bleeding from Scott's mother as he'd climbed into the car, watching Scott try to duck out of a kiss from his mom.
"She loves you, you know that right?" Scott mutters as he straps his seatbelt on, and starts the car. Phil nods vaguely, unable to resist the considerable allure of the muffins, tearing into one before Scott's house is out of view.
"She loves Philippa, not me." Phil sighs, taking another bite of the muffin. Scott snorts, and steals the muffin from Phil, taking a bite.
"She loves you." He says firmly, setting the muffin back in Phil's hand. "I've such a bad feeling about this." He sighs, and Phil rests his hand on Scott's, squeezing it around the steering wheel.
"Me too, but we can't leave those kids there, we can't back out now, Colt." Phil takes his hand back, and squirms in his seat, bringing his heels up to rest on it. "This is going to go so very badly wrong, I can tell. Just promise me, if it does, don't do something stupid." Scott turns to him as they sit at a traffic light.
"That should be my line, Punkers." He laughs, his talent forcing Phil to look at him. "You keep yourself safe, okay?"
"I'll promise if you do." Phil smiles at him, there's no way he's going to focus on keeping himself safe, Phil's entire concern is going to be with Scott, and he has the feeling that the reverse will be true. He thinks that if nothing else they'll keep each other safe.
"Ah... Well, how about I look after you and you look after me?" Scott laughs again, and Phil nods, holding his hand out to shake, Scott takes it, shaking firmly.
"Deal."
Behind the warehouse, Amy left several gas cans and a lighter. It seems a little overboard, and more than likely the first in what Phil thinks is going to be a series of bad decisions, but they've got nothing else. He doesn't want to use the gas, but getting the fire going without it would be too difficult, so he carefully pours some out, hesitating not entirely sure this is a good idea.
'You got that fire started yet?' Scott sounds antsy, he keeps fidgeting, and Phil glances up at him. He lights the gas, and stands back, watching the flames licking over the ground.
'Yeah, it's started... I guess we should get round the other side, and go say hi to Heyman.' Phil smiles slightly. He's not sure how long the fire's going to take to be discovered, not sure if it's going to get out of hand quickly or not, but it's started now and there's nothing much they can do about it. Scott grabs Phil suddenly, kissing him fiercely. The link is brimming with all kinds of contradictory emotions, a thousand things that make Phil feel giddy and he tries to ignore the feeling in favour of focussing on kissing Scott back.
'If this all goes to hell...' Scott's hands frame Phil's face, his eyes warm and soft. "I love you." He whispers softly, kissing Phil on the forehead. 'My ridiculous, awkward little Punk, no matter how this goes down, remember that.' Phil nods, swallowing thickly. He's not sure he can say those words back, no matter how much he's certain he means them, saying them is difficult.
'I... I-'
'It's okay. I can feel it.' Scott smiles at him, and Phil pulls him into another kiss, not resisting when Scott breaks it to take his hand and start walking to the front of the warehouse.
"Good evening, gentlemen." There's a drone guard at the front door, a vacant blank look on his face, the other kids who'd been here two weeks ago are milling around, looking anxious, Amy's leaning against a wall, a grin on her face.
'Report boys! We good?' Phil nods at her, and her grin manages to get bigger, her mind is buzzing with indistinct energy, and Phil hopes he's done a halfway decent job of shielding her from Heyman, because if there's a weak link in this plan, it's Phil's shields on anyone not named Scott.
"Evening." Phil nods at the guard, and squeezes Scott's hand. It's not much, but it's about all they can do somewhere so public. The guard watches Phil strangely, like there's someone else looking through his eyes, and Phil supposes Heyman is observing the group from a distance.
"This way." The guard leads them inside the warehouse, through a maze of imaginary corridors. Phil can hear the buzzing of the kid in the cell's mind. The bundle of black memories pulsing in time with his static thoughts. The link with Scott is fizzing; it seems Amy's nervous energy is affecting more than just her. The group is led to a large, empty space through a maze of not really there corridors; in the middle of the space is a big black bus. Heyman's nowhere to be seen, but Lesnar is, leaning against the bus with a scowl on his face.
"So, the ones who want training, get on." His voice is too high for his size, and Phil has to resist the urge to snicker. Several of the group approach, boarding the bus. "Heyman'll be down to talk to the rest of you." The bus lights up, and pulls away, through an open garage door, that shuts loud and ominous behind it. One of the drone guards comes running up to Lesnar, and whispers in his ear. The man's eyes narrow and he takes off, the guard following at his heels.
"You think they've-" Phil nods at Amy's words, not really wanting her to say too much.
'I'll try and find the kids.' Phil closes his eyes, trying to hear through Heyman's illusions; trying to find the kids they're there to rescue. There's a strange rumbling noise, something like thunder, and then the loudest noise Phil's ever heard. The explosion rips through the warehouse, a gaping hole in one wall, smoke and dust floating on the air. Phil scrubs at his eyes, coughing. He can't see Scott, but he can feel him over the link. There's people screaming and scrambling everywhere, and Phil still can't see Scott, it's beginning to worry him. Heyman's illusions have all dropped, the warehouse as it really is, is visible to everyone. Amy's screaming for him from a distance, and Phil can feel something frantic inside of him, something like the frantic beating of moth's wings in his chest. Scott's nowhere to be seen.
'COLT!' It's not really panic that has Phil screaming over the link, its urgency, its necessity, its possibly panic.
'I'm here, I'm okay... Where?' Scott collides with Phil's back, and Phil spins around, clinging to him, knowing that he's probably bleeding relief and the remnants of his panic over the link. 'I'm okay... I'm okay.' Scott's hand starts running through Phil's hair, his lips against Phil's own.
"Fuck... This isn't what was meant to happen." Phil gasps, the smoke in the room is thick, and he can hear the buzzing of the kid in the cell mind loud and incessant. There's the sound of boot-clad feet running towards them, the others from the group start shouting loud and desperate, trying to get the drone guards attention.
"I got this. Go find your kids, Punkers." Scott kisses Phil's temple, and the sound of boots stop. 'Thirty... Right?'
'Yeah... I think so.' A quick check through the warehouse confirms there's only twenty-seven of the drone guards left, all of them converging on them. "Twenty-seven." Phil squeezes Scott once, and leaves, trying to find Amy in amongst the panicking minds of the other talents. 'Be careful, Colt.' The link is briefly flooded with amusement, and Phil can feel one of the drone guards minds snap out of existence. This mess, and it's nothing more than a mess at this stage, has dragged Scott down to his level. They're both murderers now. That's going to be a fun conversation if they make it out of this fuck up. Phil can't say he's looking forward to having to discuss how killing someone made Scott feel, if only because he knows how it made him feel.
'Punkers, just don't do anything too stupid. I'll catch up when I'm done here.' Another mind is snuffed out, and Phil desperately hopes that Scott doesn't end up killing all of the remaining twenty-five, killing one man was bad, killing twenty-seven will be impossible to deal with.
"Punk!" Amy's voice comes loud and slightly hoarse, she's crouched beside a large container, the little sequencer cradled in her arms shaking and sobbing, the shifter standing beside her, looking tense, like he wants to run away.
"Where's the other one?" Phil slumps against the container, coughing. The smoke is getting thicker; the other talents are all panicking, one of them trying to freeze the fire, another trying to use their power to direct the flames.
"He's in the big room." The little sequencer says, looking at Phil, something calculating and hard in his eyes, as though the weeping had been an act all along.
"The one with the doctor?" Phil squints through the smoke, trying to see where the room might be. 'Kid?' The soft buzzing gets louder, and Phil winces, the kid is at least somewhat awake and fine.
'My light?' The kid's monotonous voice trickles into Phil's mind. 'Where are you? You're supposed to save me.' He sounds mildly resentful, and Phil rubs his temple, pain building in his head.
'Things aren't going to plan.' Phil tells the kid, wincing at the odd chuckle that answers his comment. "Got him." Phil shoves off the container, starting to walk forward, but realising he has no idea where the kid is. 'Are you on your own?'
'The doctor...' Phil finds the doctor's mind easily, and tries to replicate what Heyman does to his drones, commandeering the man's mind, forcing him to walk to the window and look out so Phil can find the room. The man's mind is strong though, he seems to have some talent, or Heyman is fighting Phil for control of the doctor's mind. It's a strange fight, trying to maintain control over someone else, and it seems like Phil's winning when the man's mind dies. The shock has Phil turning and puking, his head aching. Being connected a dying mind was not an experience he'd ever wanted to experience again. Amy glances up at him; shock on her face, the little sequencer squirms out of her arms, and squints up at Phil, watching as he struggles to keep himself together.
'Punkers? You okay?' Scott sounds panicked, and Phil closes his eyes, trying to imagine Scott's finger running over his forehead, trying to summon the soft feeling of relief Scott's gift can give him.
'Worry later, Colt.' The imagined caress has to be working, because Phil feels a little better, his headache subsiding slightly. The link is a strange and confusing mix of love, worry and determination, it's strangeness comforting though, it's more disconcerting when Scott only feels one thing at a time.
"This wasn't supposed to happen." The sequencer says quietly, his eyes narrowed. He looks pitifully contrite, and Phil shrugs at him, not willing to place any blame on a child. This isn't his fault, it's Phil's, entirely and completely Phil's own doing that things have turned out this way.
"You're a kid... It's no surprise there's a few kinks in your talent." It's understandable that there's some flaws in his planning, the future is a tricky thing. It's not really something Phil believes can be fully mapped out. From Piper working for a visionary, to the little kid staring up at him, all this belief in precognition isn't something he's overly comfortable with; the future is far too fluid and unreliable. Phil start walking, moving to where the third of the children is being held, the flames encroaching, the heat in the warehouse growing more and more intense, the others following along behind him cautiously.
"Everything's on fire, and we're a man down. This is more than a kink." The little shifter's voice is horribly dry, and he nudges his little brother, his eyebrows raised.
"Something that wasn't supposed to be here is... Something I didn't see." The sequencer mumbles, his little eyebrows knit.
"Wha-" Phil starts to question what the sequencer means, when there's a strange whistling noise, and a piece of metal comes hurtling at the large window. "AMY! NO!" The glass shatters, the metal ramming through the back of the room, breaking a hole in the wall, leading outside of the warehouse. Phil turns to Amy with a scowl, she could have hurt the kid if she wasn't careful, but she doesn't seem worried.
"Now we have an escape route too." She grins at Phil, but it looks off, not quite like her. It's probably the smoke inhalation clouding her judgement; at least Phil hopes it is, because the other options are too horrible to consider.
"C'mon!" The little sequencer scrambles through the shattered window to where his brother is strapped down, ripping the ties from him. The kid stands, staring at Phil, his pale eyes riveted on Phil's face, a tiny, strangely unnerving smile on his lips. His brothers start tugging on his little arms, trying to drag him with them and Amy out through the hole in the wall, but he stays staring at Phil.
'When it's time... I won't put you out, my light. I'll make you shine even brighter.' He turns and leaves, his mind fading back to the soft animalistic buzzing. Phil shudders; he still doesn't know where he's heard all this light shining in the darkness bullshit from before, but now isn't the time to puzzle over this, now isn't the time to worry about cryptic words from fucked up children. Now is the time to focussing on getting the kids to Piper, finding Scott and getting the hell out of this warehouse in one piece.
'Lita, you know where the kids need to go?' Amy doesn't answer, her mind is blank, and something like dread settles in Phil's stomach. Her mind's smooth and glassy just like Heyman's. She's shielded, shielded as well as Heyman's mind. It dawns on Phil then that they've fucked up; the kids have stayed in Heyman's control. This whole thing was pointless, people have died for nothing, the only real goal they'd come here with has been missed. He should have paid more attention to shielding Amy, he should have paid more attention to shielding himself, he shouldn't have started any of this in the first place. He tries to find any of the children, tries to find someone near them to see what's happened, but there's nothing, he can't find a mind to hijack. This whole thing is a failure, and it weighs heavily on him. Phil slumps against the table in the middle on the room, chocking back frustrated tears. This isn't the time to be weeping like a child, he needs to find Scott, he needs to get out of here, needs to find Piper, explain what happened, explain how badly he fucked up. There has to be a backup plan, he has to believe that Piper won't be putting all of his faith in a barely trained bunch of teenagers. Behind him comes the sound of someone large stepping on the broken glass from the shattered observation window, a chill flows down his spine, and the realisation that he's fucked up on a more personal level comes to him.
"Hmm... The little mind reader... You little shits are always such fucking trouble." Lesnar snarls. In his rage his voice is even higher, but laughing at him would only make things worse, though really, the only way this could get worse is if Scott doesn't make it out of this alive. In that moment, Phil realises that he doesn't mind if he dies, so long as Scott's safe, so long as Scott's alive it'll be okay. He starts moving away from Lesnar, he might be okay with the thought of dying, but it doesn't mean he's going to rush into it headfirst, if only because Scott would kill him. He edges around the table, creeping towards the hole in the wall, cursing the fact that he left Scott to deal with the drone guards, cursing the fact that Piper never thought to teach him how to protect himself from a biopath, cursing the fact they never had a real plan in the first place. A goal isn't enough against a guy like Heyman; a goal is going to get him killed. Lesnar lunges for him before he can make it to the hole, a huge hand wrapping around Phil's throat, squeezing, pressing him against the crumbling wall. "I do like popping heads off. It's like squeezing zits." Lesnar laughs and Phil's fingers scratch against the hand around his throat, scrabbling desperately for his life, his lungs are beginning to ache, his face feels hot and itchy. The man laughs, and lifts Phil by the throat, thumping him against the wall once. "Nothing to say? Stupid little kids should know better than to mess with their elders." He laughs again, and thumps Phil against the wall once more. He can feel his grip on consciousness slipping; his head is swimming from a lack of oxygen, and the blows from the wall. Lesnar smirks at him, something ugly and vicious on his face. He's going to die in this room, he's going to die, and he's never told Scott he loves him, not properly at least, not without there being something like doubt in the words, but he's got no doubts now, he loves Scott, and that's going to be his last thought.
"That's enough, Brock!" Heyman's voice comes as a surprise, the man sounds harried, out of breath. Phil can hear his panicking thoughts, his shields weakened, not glassy smooth, instead they're rough and fragile like used saran wrap. Lesnar's hand tightens on Phil's throat, and he can feel himself slipping, the World greying around the edges. He can't let himself die without telling Scott the truth, can't let his last words to him be anything other than the full truth of how much he loves him.
'Scott... Colt... I love you.' There's nothing but blackness for a second, then a sharp shock of pain when he's dropped to the floor. Lesnar's on the ground, twitching and clawing at his chest, his eyes rolling, his mouth foaming. The convulsions last a few seconds and then he's still, leaving Phil, crumpled in a heap, staring at the corpse in confusion, and Heyman screeching, his nails digging into his scalp. There's another explosion somewhere else in the warehouse, the sound deafeningly loud, drowning out Heyman as he screams. The death of your biopath, even if you don't like them very much is a traumatic event clearly. When Heyman stops screaming, he's panting, glaring at Phil.
'Phil!' Scott's voice is beyond welcome, and Phil wants nothing more than to answer him, but he has more pressing concerns. Heyman's stepping closer, and Phil tries to back away, tries to crawl to the hole, but Heyman's in the way, his eyes narrowed as he presses a finger to Phil's forehead.
"Mr Brooks..." An ugly sneer spreads over his pallid face, sweat beading on his forehead, a slightly crazed look in his eyes. His mind is a mess, cracked and fractured, but focused and driven, intent on causing Phil as much pain as possible, intent of driving Phil as mad as he feels.
Many thanks to the lovely Ladies and Gentlemen who reviewed:
AshJoillette, littleone1389, Rebellecherry, shiki94, and Brokenspell77.
And I suck at writing action scenes... I'm sorry... I tried!
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
Ah reality really hates me! Like really and truly HATES me... I've had a shitty fortnight and I shan't bore you with details. I'm making no promises on timescales for this next chapter, perhaps that'll stop Life from seeking vengeance on me. (We'll aim for sometime before the 26th though!)