The most horrible thing for someone as picky as me is to see that you have 49 reviews...SOMEONE REVIEW PLEAZE! DX Lol, no pressure...yet...

The guards tossed Jack and Stryker into the circular, industrial steel boiler, slamming the heavy door shut and locking it. Stryker bolted up and slammed against it, instantly regretting it when his shoulder just about popped out of place. Jack just sat on the floor, staring at the door with saucer eyes. Stryker slammed into the door again, his temper flaring when he heard their guards snicker from the other side.

"Stryker, we can't break out," Jack said, his voice hollow. "This is industrial steel. They could toss us off a highway in here and it wouldn't even bruise it."

"Well we can't give up!" Stryker shouted, trying the handle. It broke off in his grasp, the only thing not made of steel in the contraption. He snarled and chucked it across their prison. "We've got to think of something!"

A clank sounded above them, and then a steady buzz of something mechanical.

"What was that?" Stryker asked.

"...The boiler turning on..." Jack whimpered.

Stryker swore and raked his hand through his Mohawk, looking up at the zenith of the contraption. He could already see little waves of heat.

"It's already seventy degrees," Jack murmured. "If they crank it up by fifty every twenty minutes, we'll be wax in an hour..."

"Hey, don't talk like that!" Stryker ordered, coming over and grabbing his friend's shoulders. "We're gonna be okay! Zeph will distract them until we can figure a way out...or the girls will find us and get us out!"

"We don't even know if they're here, Stryker."

"They are, I can feel it!"

"Stryk-"

"I can feel it, Jack!" Stryker interrupted, giving him a shake and a firm glare. "We're going to get out and we'll all be okay! Understand?"

Jack gave him a look that clearly said that he felt defeated, but he nodded. There was a desperate, crazy look in Stryker's eyes; he had to believe that they'd be okay. He had to.

"Okay, do we have anything that can help us?" Stryker asked as he helped Jack to his feet.

"That's handle you tore off," Jack mumbled.

"Okay," Stryker said, grabbing it up and turning back to him. "What else?"

Jack shrugged, his coat sliding a little off his shoulder. It already felt like ninety degrees, so he unzipped it and took it off. Stryker did the same with his hoodie and tied the cloth together.

"Anything else?" he asked again.

"Brute strength?" Jack remarked, cocking an eyebrow at Stryker. "What're you so worried for? You're part snake. You'll be alright longer than I will."

"That's the point, I'm worried about you," Stryker said, attaching the handle to the sleeves of his hoodie. "The last thing I need is you dying."

Jack tried to be grateful for the true meaning of his statement, but it was getting hard to focus. Stryker stepped away from him, hefting his makeshift hook before looking up at the grate at the top of the boiler. He twirled the makeshift rope and released it, relieved when the handle clung to it.

"Okay, I'll climb up and see if there's a way to open this from the top," he said, testing it's durability. "Hopefully this'll hold."

"Hopefully," Jack mumbled, scratching his back; among everything else these jerks had taken, his helepack was on the list. If they did get out alive, revenge would be top priority.

Stryker hoisted himself up and made his way to the top, grimacing at every stretch he felt in the jackets. He reached the grate and moved to put his hand on it, but pulled back when he felt how burning hot it was.

"Anything?" Jack asked.

"No, nothing," Stryker sighed, adjusting his position and shaking his head. "I'm coming back-"

A sudden burst of extreme heat hit his face, raking against his eyes and searing his skin. Stryker cried out as the hook fell out of the grate and he plummeted to the boiler bottom. Jack snapped awake and dashed to catch him; Stryker landed on him with a thud that knocked both boys to the floor. They groaned in pain, sitting up slowly.

"You okay?" Jack asked as Stryker gingerly touched his cheek.

"Yeah, I think so," Stryker snarled; his face felt like it was sunburned, but he could deal with it.

"Zephyr was right, you do heal fast."

"What do you mean?"

"'Cause that blast was fire. It...it melted your skin, Stryker."

Stryker whipped around and stared at Jack, who had his head dipped but was looking up at him.

"I saw it...it was like looking at an x-ray..." Jack croaked.

"You were seeing things," Stryker said hurriedly, standing up and going to the entrance again. "It's all this heat. We've gotta get out of here-ah!"

He had touched the door of the boiler only to find it as hot as the grate. He looked down and saw smoke coming from his hand, then it vanished long enough to see his skin dissipate back to its normal size. He cringed; it was coming soon, he could sense it. He had to bite the anger he was feeling and try to think clearly, or...

"Stryker?"

He looked back at Jack and felt his stomach drop. Jack as heaving air in and out of his lungs, sweat starting to fall down his face as his hair flattened and fell over his goggles. The heat had kicked up another fifty degrees.

"We're...we're gonna be okay...right?" Jack huffed.

Stryker shook, feeling sweat start to run down his back. He swallowed hard and forced himself to nod.

"We're gonna be fine Jack," he hissed; oh no...he was hissing now too? "I'm gonna get you out of this."

Jack's vision was starting to weave, but even so, he knew he wasn't imagining what he saw. The golden tint Stryker's eyes were turning, he knew it wasn't his imagination.

"Okay..." he sobbed, falling back onto the floor. Stryker flinched towards him. "Yeah, we're gonna be okay..."