Emergency Quarantine!

[Bo Salvatierra]

Gun was on point, around every corner.  The unknown Toby was obviously better trained, rifle constantly at his shoulder and allowed the Czech to move quickly.  He’d heard what he thought was emergency before his phone cut, along with a pretty pissed off doctor.  Basement.  Had to be the ER.  Emergency rooms in every hospital were clearly marked.  Gunfire rang loud, not sparing any shots to take out moving zombies.  There was simply no time to hand to hand anything, body suddenly skittering backward and sliding as he turned a corner.

 

[bodhan]Maree![/bodhan]

 

What the hell had she just done?  She was altered, he knew… but this?  Nothing was moving in the hallway anymore.  He was stumbling back to his feet to close the distance as she fell, hopping over corpses to get to her.  Within seconds, the shudder of explosions made him grab a wall, eyes assessing everything.  Plastic sealed room, dead zombies on the floor, more skittering from hallways further down.

 

Were they going to blow up the building?

 

Shit, it wouldn’t be the first instance that frying everything was resorted to in order to keep something contained.  He was terrified for his sister as he scooped her unconscious, unbitten form up from the floor and pulled her through the doors… oddly what fell over his thoughts was not the world, or his sister… but Gabe.  He hadn’t said a word to the man as he’d left off on his valiant horse to save everyone.  The feeling struck his chest like a firestorm, exhaling quickly.  All the things he should of said and didn’t.  Didn’t.  Regret.  He'd just gone and hurt him again without a second thought...

 

Brow furled, there was no time, she was still breathing as he laid her carefully hidden behind the nurse’s station and barked at Toby.

 

[bodhan]Stay with her!  Kill anything that comes through those doors![/bodhan]

 

He leapt over the counter and sprinted for the plastic, unabashedly tearing it apart and bursting in, already pulling a bag off his shoulders and snapping zippers open, surveying the room quickly.  Patient zero, of course, and two others.  He was unsure who he’d spoken to, CZ was holstered as two cases hit a stainless steel counter, the first flipped open.  There were three more doses.  He hadn’t time or supplies to make more.

 

[bodhan]I synthesized this cure for what I devised was the advanced form of this virus.  I hadn’t had time to test it yet, so I tested it on myself five hours ago.  The toxicity period is three hours.  I’m not dead. It works.  If either of you need it, it's there.[/bodhan]

 

He pushed that to the side for later, the other case snapping open as he assessed what they were doing and began opening cabinets to find what he needed.  The case contained very tiny vials of a quivering purple liquid.

 

Eyes immediately spotted a microscope, tearing his glasses out of the front pocket of his backpack… one of the rare moments he remembered where they were… focusing on whatever the doctor had been looking at.  Hand smacked the counter.

 

[bodhan]Souložit!  They actually did it.[/bodhan]

 

He started cracking the tops off the vials and lining them up for use as he spoke quickly.

 

[bodhan]I developed this three years ago to boost the efficacy of anti-virals.  Either it will work, or it will kill all of us.  Just wanted you to know the risks.[/bodhan]

 

He took a deep breath, finished, and was finally still, looking over their progress.  Despite the frenzy of activity before, he was suddenly calm. 

 

[bodhan]Dr. Bodhan Marin, I don’t think we’ve ever met.[/bodhan]  the quirkiness was obvious before he went strictly back to business.  [bodhan]This will work.[/bodhan]  Eyes blinked at them both, pushing his glasses on top of his head. [bodhan]I swear to you this will work.  Mix ratio is one to two each of your mix.  One five part dose aerosolized will cover a MINIMUM hundred thousand square feet.  There are enough of mine for... [/bodhan]  he looked across what they had.  [bodhan]Twelve doses.  It needs extreme heat and access to the ventilation system.  A… a blowtorch, or..  bunson burner with a fan blowing into the vent system.[/bodhan]

 

His brow quirked at the oxygen canisters.  What a fucking good idea.

 

[bodhan]...or oxygen canisters.[/bodhan]

 

Who were these two?

 

Gunfire outside flicked his eyes back to the door.  His CZ was pulled again, leaving the men to it as he peered out the windows to make sure Toby was good, not aware that the keys to the kingdom hung from Maree’s belt to get to the air system.

 

[bodhan]..and they're blowing holes in the building.  I can't help with that.[/bodhan]

[Gabriele Salvatierra]

The place was disheveled. It had the earmark of a place that had been tossed, or someone having left in a hurry. The place wreaked of Bo's adrenalin which gave credence to both as well. Either scenario petrified him.

 

In the first, someone had finally caught up with them, somehow managed to get through his ironclad security and whisked the Czech away to do god knows what to him.

 

In the second……….

 

…………..in the second……..

 

Anyone who didn’t believe that Sheut were living creatures with beating hearts should have put their hand on his chest at that moment when the thought that Bodhan had left him crept in to terrify the Nation's Executioner. Ever since getting married had somehow gone from an amazing idea to dust forgotten on the winds in Scotland, the distance between them had grown. He had backed off, given the Czech his space, but it had only resulted in more space between them. Back of his head hit the doorframe of the closet as he tried to pull air into his lungs. The duffle and some of Bo's clothes were gone.

 

He had left.

 

A call ten minutes ago had pushed Sheut business into their lives again, he was supposed to go to Oregon to investigate another possible rogue vampire infestation experimenting with the z-virus. He had come to tell Bodhan only to walk into…. this. For all his strength, he wasn’t strong enough for this. He had spent his entire life denying what he was, denying himself companionship of any kind. Bo had changed that. Now…..

 

The phone caused him to nearly jump out of his skin. Hand fumbled to get it out of his pocket, the small device bobbling a moment in large hands before he slid it open and put it to his ear, his "heart"s name almost escaping his lips before Jacob's voice came across the line.

 

Bodhan had flew off to New York?.... Maree?.... what the hell?! Why didn’t the Spaniard know all this first?!?

 

[gabriele]…I am on my way..[/gabriele]

 

He was already pivoting to head down the stairs to the empty club below when Jacob's "No" caught him off guard.

 

[gabriele]…huh..?[/gabriele]

 

[jacob]Chief, you ever thought that you running to save his ass all the time might be the reason he… you know….seems to be resenting your relationship?[/jacob]

 

Feet had stopped moving. Lips parted but only silence met his Regulator's words. Jacob had a cruel way of putting to words the dark thoughts the Spaniard had been harboring for some time now. The distance between them, the lack of communication. The thought that Bo resented him had already crept into his conscious thoughts.

 

His silence must have been very transparent.

 

[jacob]Hey, I got this one Chief. Won't be a hair harmed on him.[/jacob]

 

That tightness in his chest now strangled. Nod going unheard on the phone.

 

[jacob]….I got this. [/jacob]

 

The reassurances didn’t ease the tightness but he managed finally an "ok" before he hung up the phone. Dying a little more inside.

 

Oregon it was….

[Jacob Minor]

What a fucked up mess this was.  If his relationship with the man had been a bit better, he could actually teach him a thing or two about taking care of himself.  Here he was again, saving the guy’s ass.  For the amount of brains he had, you’d think he’d know better.  It was his kneejerk head strong charge into battle despite his own personal safety that could make him feel almost respect for the guy.  He had a pair on him, that was for sure, and he admired that.  It was his treatment of his boss that had him up in arms.  The Czech didn’t treat him poorly in any sense, but Gabe needed more than just a hello every morning.  The Sheut Regulator looked up at the older man like a brother, and that was saying a lot.  An intervention was in order when they got back.  IF they got back.  He’d promised him they would, but if the small amount he knew was any indication of what he was walking into- a punch wasn’t going to get them out of it.  He’d preemptively taken an antiviral- he still wasn’t immune.

 

[Jacob]Jesus!  What the fuck man![/Jacob]  the normally easy going bouncer quipped as the plane dipped in a jerk.  If it there was a dashboard, he probably would have grabbed it.  Granted, it wasn’t Eris -that chick was fucking unbelievable in the air- he was beginning to understand Gabe’s distaste for flying.  His annoyance with the Czech was multiplying by the minute.

 

Hours.  Hours and hours.  The plane wasn’t near as sleek as the ride Bodhan had hitched, but when the buildings came into view on the horizon, he suited up.  He hadn’t had a lot of time to grab things he needed.  A few military knives, his Browning.  The man’s deadliest weapons were his hands.

 

“It takes a great man to change the world.”

 

The words were fresh in the front of his thoughts.  Gabe was a great man.  So was Bodhan, he just couldn’t find it in his conscience to admit that yet.

 

The plane dipped low, without the regulations of the old world they could do whatever the hell they wanted.  Fingers kept dialing, finally getting through to the person he wanted to hear.  She was pissed.  Piece of junk on her runway.  A bike to boot.  He used all the grease he could.  If it weren’t for a soft spot he’d seen with Gabe, the Viceroy would never have let him land.  It was quick, a bit bumpy, but he was on the tarmac before the wheels had even been chocked, a dead run to the bike waiting.  No helmet, no nothing, the engine revved and he was off without a second nod, not even waiting for the gate to open completely as he barely fit.  In and out of cars, through red lights.  He knew exactly where he was going.  Smoke was hazed in the air, evident in his nostrils before he even got close.

 

He should not  have made promises he couldn’t keep.

 

This was a shitstorm.

 

Explosions had blown out doors, the place surrounded.  Parking the bike, he squeezed through the barriers.

 

*npc* HEY!

 

[Jacob]Shoot me or get the fuck out of my way.  You’re here to make sure nobody comes out, I’m going in.[/Jacob]  he hissed.

 

*npc*  Your funeral.

 

[Jacob]Thank you,[/Jacob]  eye flicked down to the man’s chest patch.  [Jacob]Officer McMillan.[/Jacob]

 

The run intensified, pulling the tags from beneath his flak jacket to bring to his lips in a quick kiss before tucking them back in.  Gunfire through the smoke.  Shadows from nowhere.  Adrenaline on point, the mixed martial arts master left a trail of broken bones, catching a rifle as the owner went down.  On point around corners as he crouch-crept toward the sound of more gunfire.  Trained by the Nation, a master even before the world went to shit.  Pile of bodies.  Zombies and otherwise.  Normal people were being gunned down too.  He was not alone.  Why the hell had the doors been blown?  For someone to get in?  They wanted something.  Were retrieving something.

 

Scope snapped around a corner only to duck back.  The group moving away from him weren’t the guys outside, they were something else.  Precision.  After Bo?  After something else?  He didn’t have time to figure it out, peering back around the corner to listen to the controlled communication.

 

Patient zero?

 

Okies.  He wasn’t a genius but that didn’t sound good. 

 

Emergency room?

 

They were going the long way, and there was no way in hell he was getting out in front of them without becoming perished.  Hand to hand was one thing, twenty feet away from a half dozen rifles was just asking to be worm food.  Shadow had corridors.  Employee only cross throughs.  He unfortunately knew an ER better than most.  An ER had them.  Places where bodies were ferried to wait until staff could retrieve them.  Janitorial.  Halls without placards and general traffic.  Eyes scanned the placards.  Elevators.  Likely shut down.  He trotted down the hall parallel to where the group had passed, a scanner panel catching his eyes.  His kick could break a skull, but steel door locks would break his foot.

 

Aw fuck it, rifle raised and fired several shots through the lock.

 

That was going to get some attention.  Pushing through, he barricaded it from the other side with a knife through the handle.  Fuck.  He liked that knife.  Lights were on emergency, the odd red reflecting off gurneys and sheet covered beds, pace picked up. panic bar hit at the end of a rather narrow hall.  Rifle snapped up instantly, straight at a face he recognized, both his hands went in the air at the same time as Toby’s.

 

[Jacob]We’re about to have some shitty company.  That door.[/Jacob]  he pointed at the main double doors the zombies were littered around. [Jacob]Half dozen.  Heavy firepower.  Looked like military.[/Jacob]

 

Toby nodded toward the door Bodhan had disappeared into.  The charmer’s head appeared in the window with a snarky wave.  Tough shit if he didn’t like it.

 

He took a position, Toby didn’t move, nodding toward the floor behind the nurse’s station he was positioned at.  What the fuck man?  The bouncer trotted over, putting two and two together immediately.

 

Good god.  Could this get any worse?  His brain seethed… ooooo….  he should not have thought of that.

 

No time. He scooped her up, elbowing the door the three were fucking around in and setting her in the corner, checking her pulse.

 

[Jacob]We got company coming.  Half dozen through one blown door.  No clue how many came through the others.  Rifles.  Military.  Definitely not friendlies.  Were talking about a Patient Zero.[/Jacob]  Eyes flicked to the bloody body.  Great.  They were coming here.  [Jacob]Toby and I will hold them off as long as we can, but we need another plan.  We got minutes, I came through dead man’s tunnel, we can go out that way.  We can't stay here, we need another plan now.[/Jacob]

 

He ducked back out, taking a position and waiting, aiming carefully.  There was nothing he could do but wait, aim, and fire.

[Atticus Gale]

A discarded doctor’s coat in his wake, the black clad stranger confidently made his way out of the hospital while communicating with his contact via a handless device. A device which despite the hospital’s signal security had continued to work throughout.

“What’s happening down there?” A phlegmatic inquiry.

“I’m not sure.” The stranger replied, remaining equally stolid and calm in his exit. “It’s of no matter. The virus is free.” Or it soon would be. What could stop it?

“Good work, Kyzheer.” The controller complimented, “We will continue to monitor.”

The stranger stole into the shadows, his dark form seemingly melting into the blackness, vanishing from sight.

——

Atticus was in full stride before Quinn asserted his authority over the situation. The vehement order stopped the giant in his tracks, a few feet from the makeshift barrier.

‘Damn! It was a good thing Dr. Elf brought him to his senses before he…’ Right at that moment a red haired man pushed through the plastic right in front of him! ‘HOLY SHIT!’ Was all that went through Atticus’ head as the man burst in. He might've laid the guy out right there too, if he hadn’t recognized him. He knew Marin’s face from a biography picture and he’d been expecting him, although, not so dramatically.

Marin hadn’t batted an eye at Atticus’ flinching fist, going on about toxicity periods and a recently synthesized anti-viral. He so much as admitted to his own research giving rise to this new strain. A wild boast for many, a realistic claim from the likes of Marin, though a surprising one.

Trailing the man back into the room, Atticus felt invisible. Marin fervently surveyed Quinn’s work and when he introduced himself, Atticus stood back and conceded to DeClan to make introductions and confer. This was his show and all Atticus had done, was what he was doing now, assisting in producing an aerosol and a dispersal system. Not that Atticus really needed a mechanism to disperse an air borne element.

When another member of Marin’s party entered the room carrying Maree, Atticus couldn’t make heads or tails of what the man was saying. As far as he knew it was either the police or the Vanguard out there and why in the hell would they be breaking protocol? Unless it was some outside militant faction, but what in the hell were they hoping to accomplish?

‘Escape through what? Deadman’s tunnel? Who the hell was this guy? More importantly, how was he associated with Marin?’

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

Chaos. His ER was being turned into chaos and that was something he didn’t tolerate well. Overly expressive ears snapped down and back as an explosion offended their sensitive reception. Silver glare snapped to the door and whatever was going on beyond. Mutter was half under his breath.

 

[declan]…wont have much time…[/declan]

 

He couldn’t think in all the noise, normally he could focus and shut everything out. It was a sign…a sign that the poison in his veins was struggling against the antivirals….perhaps even winning. Back of his hand was just wiping the moisture from his brow when the plastic Maree had so meticulously put up was carelessly ripped apart. Snarled swear under his breath met the "great" Dr Marin.

 

[bodhan] I synthesized this cure for what I devised was the advanced form of this virus. I hadn’t had time to test it yet, so I tested it on myself five hours ago. The toxicity period is three hours. I’m not dead. It works. If either of you need it, it's there.[/bodhan]

 

Containers were looked at with a great deal of skepticism. He would say he didn’t believe him, but Asher had himself "improved" on the antivirals several times and tested them on himself. It was the nature of dreamers and passionate healers. All but pushed away in his own ER, he scowled as the redhead took over his microscope.

 

[bodhan]Dr. Bodhan Marin, I don’t think we’ve ever met. This will work. I swear to you this will work. Mix ratio is one to two each of your mix. One five part dose aerosolized will cover a MINIMUM hundred thousand square feet. There are enough of mine for... twelve doses. It needs extreme heat and access to the ventilation system. A… a blowtorch, or.. bunson burner with a fan blowing into the vent system. Or oxygen canisters.[/bodhan]

 

The smoldering molten silver studied the vials before flicking back to the "kid", then to the blond giant in his ER. What a fucking mess this had turned into.

 

[declan]Dr Asher….. [/declan]

 

Thumb jutted over his shoulder at the Nord.

 

[declan]….CDC…[/declan]

 

It was said as if the simple title explained everything about the man. The good doc clearly had a loathing for the CDC. Lips parted to say something else only to clamp shut when the door opened yet again. This time a different head of curls came through. Carried. She was hurt? Dead? Muscle through his cheek quivered, the elongated ears curling downward at the tips as they flushed a honeyed rose. The breath in his chest fought to escape before it breathed from his lips softly…

 

[declan]….Maree…..[/declan]

 

The way the man set her down was too gentle… she was alive….had to be.

 

Eyes darted to the full room, agitated once more, relieved when the latest entry made a hasty exit, though the news he left them was unsettling.

 

He started making his cocktail with the anthrax ingredients first, head tilting towards Maree's unconscious form. His words still were quiet, ears drooping almost shyly as the rose deepened. What the hell was wrong with him?

 

[declan]…if we are going to get to the main air shafts, the keys are on her belt.[/declan]

[Bo Salvatierra]

The larger man blinked at him, an odd recognition to his eyes.  Great.  He didn’t know this man from Adam, he certainly seemed to know the Czech.  It could be a good thing, it may also be a disastrous thing.  Fingers were deadly honed on his CZ, no problem pointing and firing into the hulking man’s forehead if the twitching fingers became anything more than that.  A decade ago, he may have talked his way out of it.  The scientist hadn’t stayed alive talking his way out of things, shoot first- ask after.  It became quickly apparent they were all working toward the same end. Hopefully, the version where they all walked out not dead.

 

The other, elf? was pissed and skeptical of his sudden verbal barrage of information.  It rolled off the man, tangled with so many other things he hadn’t time to figure it out.  Twins made one empathetic, special powers or not, the nuances of body language were never missed.

 

"Dr Asher…..   ….CDC…"

 

Ah yes, a clusterfuck.  He could do clusterfucks.  Wares laid out, there was nothing more he could do while they prepared the aerosols.  The other two components were clearly in Dr. Asher and CDC's control, and he’d worked in teams enough that people worked in thought processes and sequences.  If you screwed up somebody’s sequence, there was hell to pay- from them AND potential chemical booboos. The man from the CDC was familiar to him somehow...

 

CZ jumped to a point the second Jacob came through the door, lowering with an annoyed huff.

 

"We got company coming.  Half dozen through one blown door.  No clue how many came through the others.  Rifles.  Military.  Definitely not friendlies.  Were talking about a Patient Zero.  Toby and I will hold them off as long as we can, but we need another plan.  We got minutes, I came through dead man’s tunnel, we can go out that way.  We can't stay here, we need another plan now."

 

He had no words.  Gabe?  Why hadn’t Gabe come?  He always came.  First thoughts admittedly were what had happened, then pissed since it was Jake.  It was no secret the two kept a quiet distance.  It was almost as if Jacob was an incredibly loyal puppy… an incredibly dangerous, chew your face off and dance on your bones kind of puppy… but a loyal one at that.  Bo had simply proverbially stepped in to take the puppy for a walk.  It hadn’t been a good meet. BUT, Maree was safer with him here…and he was thankful the suave brute had come.

 

What really threw him off, was Dr. Asher.

 

Eyes slid to the side with silent venom of their own.  Protectiveness.  Possession. Maree was his sister, and he’d just gotten her back.  Where she’d embraced and adopted Gabe, the scientist was woefully behind- almost aggressive at the man's seeming soft spot for her.  Maree had moved on with her life, looking for him, hoping he was okay… but she had continued to live.  The Czech, had not, almost feverish in his search for her.  She was always the free spirit.  Who was this Dr. Asher?

 

Eyes still narrow, he knelt next to her again, making sure she was okay.

 

"…if we are going to get to the main air shafts, the keys are on her belt."

 

His face flushed again with prickling, there was affection there and he was livid.  Jealous almost.  Fingers patted her cheek, lifting her hand to study the odd fractal pattern on her skin.  She didn’t talk much about what she could do.  He hadn’t asked in Glamis, he didn’t want to ruin their reunion.  He wished he had.  Why had they left her out there with those things?  She was somewhat conscious, more so than several moments ago.  She was exhausted.  Of course she was exhausted, she was a mage. The Czech knew enough to know she was tapped out.  Tapped out protecting this room, these people, and the hospital.

 

He lifted her keys from the clip in her belt and tucked them into his joey pocket on his hoodie.

 

[bodhan] Maree budete muset probudit. Musíme jít , musíte se dostat na nohy.[/bodhan]  he patted her cheek again and glared at the patient. [bodhan]We’re a fucking experiment.[/bodhan]

 

Consonants were percussive.

 

[bodhan]They’re coming to get him.  This isn’t an attack, it’s a goddamn lab-rat trial run![/bodhan]  he pushed to his feet, starting to gather anything they had touched.  If they took the man, they just had him.  If they took what they were concocting, including the slides, Asher’s notes... he assumed were the scribbles on papers- he had a ton of his own, they would have...  SHIT! 

 

[bodhan]They can’t get any of this.[/bodhan]  he was moving fast, gathering his things, slides the doc had prepared.  Were things completely mixed?  Canisters ready?  [bodhan]We have to go, now. Leave him.[/bodhan]  It was crass, and it was heartless, but it was necessary.  [bodhan]They know what they have.  They can’t know what we have,[/bodhan]  the implications were obvious.  If they knew, they could mutate it again.  [bodhan]They can’t know who we are.  Jacob and Toby will cover us.[/bodhan] 

 

The implications for that were also obvious, if they knew who they were... they would be familiar with their work.  Also an advantage he didn’t want to give them. He hoisted Maree up, one arm over his shoulder. She was holding her own weight. Groggy.  He looked expectantly toward the two.  Canisters, mixes, notes... damn... they had too much to carry.  Waiting...  for their lead.

 

Maree had to start moving on her own power.

[Atticus Gale]

Atticus momentarily glanced over at Marin as he attempted to wake his sister. He said something to her. Sounded like Czech. From his knowledge of Russian he could make out ‘rise’ or ‘wake’ and that was about it. A desperate urgency permeated the room but Atticus was far more concerned with killing the virus than being killed by the approaching gunmen. One might have even thought the big man brave but in truth he simply hadn’t accepted the reality of the situation. What would a militant group hope to gain by storming a quarantined hospital? It simply made no sense… until Doctor Marin summed it all up in a few words. “… it’s a goddam lab-rat trial run!”

‘Well, shit.’ That actually made perfect sense. ‘A dry run.’ Now the worry began to show. He began to work faster, taking a few more risks with the preparation, but there simply wasn’t enough time.

[atticus] Quinn, I got this.[/atticus] Atticus told the Elf, [atticus]Gather your notes and get the hell outta here.[/atticus]

He grabbed one of Marin’s antiviral’s and tucked it in his pocket, picking up another and placing it in front of his fellow doctor. [atticus]You’re not looking so well. Trust me, I can disperse the aerosol faster than anything.[/atticus] He assured him, gathering up the aerosol canisters in a bag to further dissuade the Elf from coming with him.

The men, Marin referred to as Jacob and Toby looked like they knew what they were doing, as did Marin for that matter. He wasn’t the same man he’d read about. Quinn had to go with them. He couldn’t risk being captured.

Making his way toward the door, bag in hand, Atticus stopped before Marin and the woman from his past. She was on her feet, but dazed, he’d have his hands full. Atticus could carry her so easily but he wasn’t her brother and he was best suited to disperse the antiviral.

[atticus]I’ll take care of this.[/atticus] He told Marin, holding up the bag, [atticus]You just worry about getting out of here.[/atticus]

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

Hands had begun to move, meticulous calculations occurring in a brilliant mind that was weighted under the chaos of his sanctuary. Tubes were being blended with what the Czech had brought. A single batch first that was quickly dripped on a new slide and pushed under the microscope. The scientist in him didn’t trust words, he needed facts and those he could only believe with his own two eyes.

 

Silver orbs locked on the slide, counting variables, checking enzymes. The ears snapped down in annoyance as they were invaded once more. These were hardly proper working conditions.

 

Good news. The concoction seemed stable and non-lethal. Would it actually prevent the spread of the engineered virus however..?... that remained to be seen.

 

Steely orbs shifted over his shoulder to look at Maree again, a tickle downward of the dark brows before the pupils flicked to her brother, the features so transparently alike, only his held a flush and a gaze that seemed to flick daggers at the elf. There was a slow lowering of the long ears, almost centering, as though he were setting his stance for what might come. But instead of seeking a confrontation the gaze flicked back down to the peach curls and instantly softened to a heather gray before he turned away to focus once more on his work. Left ear twitched at the sound of her keys being stolen and tucked away.

 

[bodhan]We're a fucking experiment.[/bodhan]

 

[declan]No shit Sherlock…[/declan]

 

The response was only half under his breath as the brain was ticking off ratios as fast as his fingers could uncap vials and begin mixing batches even as the Czech came to the conclusion that it was a lab-rat trial. For one of the most brilliant minds, he caught on quick didn’t he. Sarcastic thought was this time kept to himself as he didn’t want to waste the limited resources they had. Adding the Czechs concoction to his own wasn’t as easy as dumping a vial in a vial but the elf made it seem just that effortless as long fingers snapped sets of two vials into the stand again and again.

 

[bodhan]They can't get any of this.[/bodhan]

 

Again with the obvious.

 

[atticus] Quinn, I got this. Gather your notes and get the hell outta here.[/atticus]

 

This time a faint growl murmured in his chest. He didn’t particularly care for the amount of orders being barked at him from all directions in HIS er. As the giant grabbed one of Marin's antivirals the elf's fingers followed into the pocket and yanked it back out, glaring at the Nord before using the antiviral in the last of the batches. The last of the concoction was finished and set into the last rack before long strides took him to the medicine fridge. Syringes were pulled free, several filled with the new batch, one capped and dropped into the Nord's pocket with a soft "humph". The rest he filled were for himself and Maree and potentially their rescuers. The treasures were lightly dropped into his own pocket before he returned to the fridge. The vial brought out had a skull and crossbones on the front, the jaw firmly setting as a needle jammed into the top, syringe pulling out the poison to fill the clear tube.

 

Standing over patient X…..no…. Kyle Turin……

 

The pause was poignant.

 

Do no harm. His entire existence was built on that solemn oath. Warfarin was a life saver to so many, an anticoagulant that could help in heart surgery patients. But in the dose he was about to administer, the kid would bleed out internally, harming the contagion he was carrying and likely rendering him useless to those that sought to retrieve and study.

 

Shoulders lifted with the slow breath before the needle went into the vein running down the side of Kyle's neck, pumping the deadly dose quickly through the unconscious body. Swallow was thick as he dropped the syringe into the hazardous waste bin.

 

[atticus] You’re not looking so well. Trust me, I can disperse the aerosol faster than anything.[/atticus]

 

Frown was deep and pained, a faint shimmer over steely gray betraying what he had just done had killed a bit more of the good doctor. They shifted to Maree. He had done what he could. He could stop now. Look after her now.

 

Nod was faint as he glanced at the mixed tubes on the counter. Words were quiet.

 

[declan]…careful…. we can't make any more.[/declan]

 

With that he pushed the pages back in the binders and closed them up, the stack hoisted under his arm as he moved to the door, he paused as he reached Maree's side. She was coming around but slowly. Without hesitation, he reached for the hand dangling at her side, not caring what her brother was going to think. Turning it over long fingers slid over the marks, thumb affectionately stroking her palm before nodding slightly to himself as he let it go. Clearly he assessed something others didn’t know about.

 

Feet moved into the hallway to glare a bit at the gun-toters waiting for them.

 

[declan]….lets get moving.[/declan]

[Bo Salvatierra]

The doctor was double checking everything he did.  Goddamn it they didn’t have time for this!  Even CDC was busting his ass while the doc had to question the Czech.  The weight of the situation was not lost on him, tighter and tighter in his chest as the situation flayed outward into critical mode.  He almost wished Gabe was here, at the same second thankful he was not.  He didn’t want him to see this, THIS.  This was the end result of his infernal tinkering, the genius that wanted to save the world and asked no questions along the way. He was so fucking smart now wasn’t he? So eager to crack the next code, solve the next problem…

 

"No shit Sherlock…"

 

..came the reply to his outward realization.  Eyes were vicious at the man, so much anger starting to bubble- at himself. Purely at himself.  He’d been so concerned that he could, he didn’t stop to think about whether or not he should.

 

He’d heard that somewhere before when he was a kid.

 

Another something itching at him registered at the same moment while a flurry of hands were working to save the lives they could . No.  No.  This elf bastard was NOT someone he approved of having a soft spot for his sister.  Whether or not Maree knew it, he knew that glance.  Fuck!  Fingers gripped her tighter in a possessive tantrum.  He was coming apart at the seams. He would remain logical, level headed in an incredible crisis, but when this was over his world would crash.  It would be over.  They would get out of this.

 

"Quinn, I got this.  Gather your notes and get the hell outta here."
 

Flurry was quick, the doctor seemingly either buckling to the peer pressure or knowing it all was lost.  Then, the pause.  The Czech’s eyes slammed shut, teeth tightening before releasing and watching the product of his naivety.  This was his fault.  Patient X’s blood, was on his hands.  His sister’s near-death.. whatever this was, was on his hands.

 

 "You’re not looking so well. Trust me, I can disperse the aerosol faster than anything."  

 

Attention snapped back on the present. Was the elf immune?  Was Maree immune? Was.. ”CDC” immune?  He would go on the assumption of no until he saw otherwise.  By the Nord’s words, he was leaning possibly toward otherwise.  Something about him, Maree… he knew Jacob and Toby were different… he was pretty sure he was the only human in the whole fray.  The big man had plans for this… they all had a part.

 

The glance again at Maree from the doctor snapped his brow down. Ginger rage was not a myth, neither was the bond that twins had… it would have to wait, getting ready to move as they all took their respective roles.

 

"…careful…. we can't make any more."

 

“No shit Sherlock” was on the tip of his own teeth… blazing green on the man the second he lifted Maree’s hand.  He knew more about her than her own brother…

 

Bodhan… get your head in the game.

 

"I’ll take care of this.  You just worry about getting out of here."

 

He nodded at CDC, sister held tightly to him as he supported her weight.  The Czech believed him.  After this was over he needed to sit down with the guy.  Foot slammed into the door to open them and lead the way out.

 

"….lets get moving."

 

[bodhan]No shit Sherlock,[/bodhan] percussive voice snapped, unable to stop it this time, CZ already up.  [bodhan]Jacob!  We’re moving!   Retrace![/bodhan]

 

His finger squeezed the trigger at the first shadow of a helmet around the corner, practiced aim snapping the target's head back before they fell.  It was the same they’d seen coming in.  The bouncer immediately snapped off several shots and moved to lead the way, Toby bringing the rear and jam the door after they were all safely inside the sterile looking, yet macabre hall.

 

[Jacob]We got company at the entrance point…[/Jacob]  the bouncer was unfazed.

 

[Maree]…service door… right, freight elevator just inside…[/maree] voice was quiet, arm tightening slightly on her brother’s neck. 

 

The scientist's eyes immediately softened.

 

[maree]…morgue downstairs… ramp goes out to the parking garage for mortuary pick-up… bisects the hall to the boilers and the air systems.  [/maree] fingers were fumbling on her belt.  She’d been listening.

 

Bodhan snapped the keys from his joey pocket, there were so fucking many.

 

C’mon genius.

 

All the keys had stamped numbers that corresponded to the stamped numbers on the keyhole to unlock the elevator.  Eyes squinted at the core on the elevator panel.  Fuck his eyes.  FUCK. It took a moment, snapping it in and turning it, doors opened.

 

Thank god it was already on their floor.

[Atticus Gale]

Atticus had remained silent during Quinn’s execution of Turin. The man was dead already, perhaps one might even convince themselves it was an act of mercy. ‘Perhaps.’ At the time he was aware of what the Elf was doing. It made sense. Neither of them were going to get their hands on the body anyway. He had, however, denied him a few extra doses of Bodman’s antiviral with his asinine move. He’d be a little pissed off about that for some time. ‘Easy come, easy go.’ He tried to convince himself.

Under the cover of Bodhan’s trusted colleagues Atticus followed the three down the hall, cringing as a few bullets ricochetted off a wall not two meters away. Burdened with the canisters he couldn’t rely on the security of his non-corporeal form. He was a big target, but made up for it with uncharacteristic speed of foot.

He paused for a moment, waiting while Bodhan fumbled with the keys. He wanted to make sure they made it and once the doors opened he offered them a nod and, [atticus]Good luck.[/atticus] before pressing on toward a stairwell door, just down an adjacent corridor. He needed to get to the highest floor to properly disperse the antiviral.

The bundle of canisters in hand, Atticus sprinted for the door. He almost seemed to fly, as long powerful strides carried him swiftly down the corridor. A few more stray shots narrowly missed his legs, the rounds punching holes in the walls behind him, but he didn’t break stride. Another bullet whizzed past. Two of the gunmen were pursuing him out of a sense of obligation or something like that, he figured. He wasn’t too worried.

Gripping the handle, he threw open the door and flew up the stairs to the next landing in one great leap. The unnatural display was then repeated for each set of stairs, his feet only touching upon the landings. It took only minutes for him to scale the several floors, arriving at the top without a sweat or heavy breath.

All he had to do now was find a central junction in the air vents.

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

He didn’t miss the glare from the Czech as he compared the guy to an English mystery character but the nasty expression fell on emotionless eyes. The elven ears tipped back like a wolf that had just bared its teeth at the man. If what the kid had said was true, this outbreak might damn well be his fault and that held a prickle of ire up the back of the elven Doctor's neck.

 

Strong hands were gathering his supplies and binders, silver orbs flicking to watch the redhead clutch his sister like a toy he refused to share. And why should he…. the good Doctor had no claim on her either.

 

As he moved into the hallway and advised the muscle they needed to get going, the "No Shit Sherlock" got a quirked brow from the Doc…. he had struck a very raw nerve with the kid. Were the siblings….more than… was there…… the world was different now so….

 

It was a weird stomach turning thought he dismissed immediately. The guy was just a protective brother. That was all.

 

Muscle through his cheek flinched as gunfire exploded against sensitive eardrums. The very sound nearly seized his movement forward. He had spent his entire life putting back together what that sound did to flesh and bone. He had to mentally tell himself to keep moving as the big Nord wished them luck and slipped down the corridor.

 

As the gun-toter mentioned they had company at the entrance point, his lips parted to mention the service door only to clamp shut as her soft voice broke the silence. All the tension the gunfire had built up through his shoulders melted at the very sound. She was awake…alive…..and at least coherent enough to know what was going on. Soft, relieved eyes nearly were a mirror of her brothers as she continued to speak.

 

Silver traced the line of her jaw, a peach curl dangling over her eyes as her brother fumbled with the keys. He wanted to protect her. He hadn't wanted to protect anyone in a long time. Heal them yes, play god and make the near dead live again…yes. But not personally to protect.

 

The thought drew focused attention on a fact the Nord had already picked up. He wasn’t well. How many anti-virals had he taken?....one…no wait… two. He had the concoction from Bodhan he needed to still take. Who was to say it would work, particularly after the previous doses…. particularly on a doctor who had taken anti-virals of all three viruses on a regular basis because he was one of the very few in the medical practice willing to work on the infected.

 

He might be the very thing he needed to protect her from. As the doors opened he felt the weight of the decision press in on him from all around. The very air seemed to thick to breath.

 

He got in with them all, guns and people filling the void quickly. Hand slid into his lab coat pocket to pluck the 4 syringes he had kept for them, the fifth left in the pocket just in case it might work on him. He waited. He knew the timing of this thing as well as she did and she wouldn’t be able to move fast enough. With Bodhan on the other side of Maree, the Doctor was afforded a bit of cover as hand slid over to hers, the syringes were folded into her palm, thumb gently closing her fingers around the vessels before stroking her knuckles with an affection he hadn't shown anyone but his dying patients. As the doors slid closed he waited until they were half shut before turning abruptly sideways to slips out of the steel doors within an inch of his life. The safety on these big ones was not that responsive, he knew they would not shift back open. Turning to face the decreasing opening the skin had grown grayishly pale, perspiration dripping down his temples like rivulets of falling water. The infection was spreading quickly.

 

As the space dwindled to nearly nothing lips whispered to her "Be Safe" before the doors closed completely with an ominous clang.

 

Heel of his hand rubbed at his eye socket, trying to clear blurred vision. He needed to get to the lab for the rest of his notes. These were not his only binders. The others held ominous predictions of the lycan virus and a third virus he had come across only once. A blood virus so ominous he was hesitant to even experiment on it.

 

First thing first.

 

Moving a bit unevenly he slid into another OR, binders dropped on the metal table as he rummaged for the last syringe. He wasn’t sure he trusted her brother totally to have this thing right… but then again, he had run out of options. White coat was dropped off his left shoulder so he could administer the dose directly in his vein, fingers flexing hard to bring it up to the surface before plunging the needle. Air sucking sharply at the tell tale burn that seemed to accompany all the anti-virals.

 

Needle fell to the floor as hips leaned against the cold metal, back of his right hand wiping at the moisture thick on his brow.

 

He would wait a minute. Then get moving again. Wait a minute…. then get to work.

 

The sound of grunts and stumbling feet itched at his ears. They were not far away now.

[Bo Salvatierra]

Not pleased was an understatement.  Skipping off half way around the world to answer a cryptic message from his sister without a second word to anyone seemed insane, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.  Arriving to find a babysitter had been sent again to save the Czech from whatever dangers lay ahead only added to the frustration that was building to a boil within.  He had a hand in this, his work, his blind work. Enjoy himself more, take away the stress… work with a suit and tie instead of in the thick of things in deadly and dangerous countries.  It had just made him a patsy, a mouse, a workhorse for those with obviously sinister intentions beyond what he could fathom.

 

…and this fucking doctor.  The ginger had a temper, he’d always had a temper where Maree was the gentle and happy soul of the two.  Yin and Yan.  But this guy, something about him was making him the focus of the Czech’s ire…  and it could be vicious when the safety of people he loved were threatened.  But, they seemed to work like a well-oiled machine, after the doctor had started to get with the program.  Suddenly he was grateful for Jacob’s intervention, and the availability of Eris’ sidekick that could only stay with them for so long.  He would have to find another way out.  It was doubtful that Ahanu had stuck around.  The man was like Gabe, resourceful with the options he was given. He wasn’t worried for Eris’ employee.  He was however, worried as the “CDC” decided to take off on his own mission…  they had to stick together, the two on point couldn’t protect them all if variants kept changing the game.  If they left, they were on their own…

 

"⚖ Good luck."

 

NO!

 

God damn it!

 

There was no way the two fore and aft could cover the man as he took off toward the door with the canisters, he was on his own now.
 

DAMN IT!
 

The moment Maree spoke however, the world changed.  It always did.  What he was not expecting was the seeming prick of a doctor suddenly mirrored his own relieved expression. Trying to ignore what was buzzing through his thoughts as the flip through the keys halted their escape by only a matter of seconds.  He’d also become very acutely aware that the man was showing signs of infection.  The doc didn’t trust the scientist.

 

[bodhan]The anti-viral works, just take the fucking thing,[/bodhan]  he snapped to the doc as they all piled into the elevator and he keyed for it to go down.  Missing it.  Missing IT!

 

Hand slammed the doors after him as they closed beyond what he could grab the doc through. He'd decided he hated the ass, but it didn't mean he deserved to die.  Maree’s sudden inhale gelled the realization just how infinitely dark the situation had become. Her fingers snapped closed on the glass vials, clink gentle.  The doc had passed off the vials, at least there were less than there were before.  The man wasn’t a complete idiot, but he hadn’t looked good, and he, like the “CDC” had chosen his own fate.

 

[maree]No. No… no..[/maree]

 

She was coming around.  Eyes flickered to Maree as the elevator moved, it was so damn slow.  Freight elevator.  Something was happening.  She was so fucking warm. Was she infected too?  Hands grabbed one of the vials from her lucid fingers, tossing it to Jacob, Toby… one for him but the man didn’t need it.  The doc or CDC wouldn’t have known anyway. Jacob wasted no time, the ass was fearless.  He flicked one for Maree, finding the vein quickly.  Remnants were put into his bag. Nothing could be left behind. Could she even get sick? He had no idea.

 

Then her weight on his shoulder was light.

 

She was standing on her own, forehead tilted slightly downward as she stared at the door, her palm suddenly on the elevator door indicated she knew what the doc had done.

 

They opened, the empty, dim hallway waiting for their escape.  Jacob first, Toby, then himself, turning to help her out.

 

Keys snapped into her hand from his a foot away.

 

No. How the fuck had she done that?!

 

[maree]I know what to do now. Wait for me in the boiler room.[/maree]

 

[bodhan]NO!!  MAREE!![/bodhan]

 

The door groaned, snapping shut, his fist slamming on the impregnable doors, leaving the three of them to their dim hideaway.

 

She had done that.  SHE had DONE THAT.

[Maree'Anca Marin]

Be safe.

 

Be safe.

 

The words pounded in her head past the agonizing pain that threw her return to consciousness for a loop.  Someone had touched her hand, someone she didn't know well.  Sadness… no, sorrow. Unending, never ending, deep and crushing sorrow.  Pain.  Protectiveness.  Sick to her stomach, shivering, itching.. chills and cold all echoed through her brain.  A flush of warmth in her own body.  A burn of veins.  Rushing freedom of breath that seethed through every pore and opened the world beyond her realm of consciousness. She was undaunted.

 

Finally unafraid.

 

Then.

 

Keys… and the frantic eyes of her brother that stared at her so incredulously she thought she would drown in their fear.  Hers returned with a lack of it.  She would return.  She knew he knew she was telling the truth.  She would return.

 

The doors slamming shut was her own doing.  Engaged at such a high level her thoughts rippled almost too fast for her brain to keep firing.  Keep up… keep up.  Keys to her belt.  Air shivered on her skin, she could feel… everything.  The moment the doors opened, a hand pushed forward, fear.  She could feel it, feel their minds bleed it as several that had been in pursuit had their foreheads slammed with her palms.  A finger in a light socket.  Their worlds scrambled, equipment, outfitted killers, guns clattering to the floor… brains rebooted as seizures on the floor until they moved no more.

 

So many minds, so many feelings of fear.  Shadows inside of muscles still firing electrical impulses.  Dying.  Anger.  Predators. Where was he??

 

Predator.  Burst of light before the pop of a gun, clink to the floor of a melted projectile.  Predator breath quivering before he fired off several more rounds to strike the same fractals against something they couldn’t penetrate as she approached.  Palm again.

 

Down.

 

Clattering and limp.

 

They always went down.  This time, no movement followed the man's collapse. No breath either.  Before, she’d felt a pulse leave her in a fit of anger and fear.  Gone now. It was the quiet.  Composure.  Moving on her own, no stagger, only purpose.

 

There were more, yet to find the doctor and the janitor, frantic their companions were not answering their hails.

 

Where was he...?

 

Pain, she could feel it.  Burn.  Disoriented.  Fingers pressed a darkened ER door open, the pallor of the doctor bringing a soft blink and a lack of urgency that fell softly around her.  She felt as if… floating.  Body felt no weight, world was a book she could read without effort.  Footsteps were quiet toward the fading doctor.  Fingers lifted without pause and slid to hold both sides of his jaw sans permission, feeling the heat, the moisture of his stress and sickness… thumbs on his cheekbones, the pale jade searching silver for nothing more than calm.  Nobody knew she could do this. Nobody but Ardal.. and now the good doctor Asher.  He was altered, would her suggestions work?  She wasn’t sure, but she could feel him through her touch, searching for signs of the infection within him.  It was there.  She could also feel… duty.  Guilt.  Pain.  Physical yes, also something else… different… but the empty anti-viral on the floor spoke volumes.  Calm.  He needed calm.

 

[maree]You do not have to fight this fight alone.[/maree]

 

With that, she just pushed gently through her palms.  Pushed on his world, his blood, the anti-viral that burned as it scoured because it was potent, she was opening everything… vessels, arteries… flowing… allowing it to flood his entire physical being faster than it ever could have, if it ever would have in time to save his life.

 

THIS was her gift.  The fighting, the belief that her abilities somehow made her a violent and impenetrable god of power like everyone else gloated, sought after and flashed- it had all been wrong.  THEY had been wrong...  Hers was beneath.  They -even she- had tried to trigger it with anger and violence… and it responded in kind with anger and uncontrollable violence.  The doctor had triggered something else, and it was more potent with that than THEY could’ve ever imagined.  It was the gift of life over death.  Fire scalded, but it also was necessary to live.

 

[maree]The vaccine will work,[/maree] words were quiet.  Eyes searched again through the silver.  [maree]It’s time to go.  They will wait for us in the boiler room until you’ve done what you needed to do.[/maree]

 

She truly had no idea why he’d left, long breath drawn in as she let go, arms back to her sides and waited for his lead.

[Atticus Gale]

Moving quickly down the hallway sweat began to bead Atticus’ brow. It was the infection but he didn’t have time to suffer the effects of Bodan’s anti-viral to remedy the symptoms. His first and foremost priority was to distribute the aerosolized vaccine through the building. A feat best served by…

Bright blue eyes fell upon the sign on the door before him. ‘Roof Access’ accompanied by ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. The air circulation fans on the roof, through which he had originally entered, by far offered the best method.

A single, forceful kick sunk into the metal and the door swung open, revealing a single steep stairway leading up. When he got to the top the heavy duty door was locked tight, it even had an airtight seal preventing the Zephyr from sifting through.

Groaning with displeasure at the obstruction Atticus placed down the canisters, mustered some strength and put one of his massive shoulders to the door. The hollow bang of impacted metal echoed across the roof top. He hit again, then again, powerful strike’s rippling through billowing barrier until the hinges popped and the heavy portal toppled to the ground with a loud clang.

The effects of the virus were more noticeable now. He had to wipe his brow before bending down to pick-up the canisters and that’s when he ‘felt’ it. Like the responsiveness of a person to the near imperceptible sensation of a mosquito treading upon their skin Atticus reacted to a fluctuation in the air pressure around him. The extension of his external awareness to the world registered a severe distortion, one he knew to possess fatal potential.

As the distant sound of a gun shot reverberated, Atticus phased, his body shifting from flesh to the non-corporeal elemental form of air. The bullet would pass right through him, that is if he shifted quick enough. He was too slow to react to the detection. A scream of pain muffled by the dimensional shift was cut silent as he transformed, but the high speed projectile had already ripped through the remnants of his physical body.

Atticus reappeared behind the rooftop entry structure, sprawled on the ground while the unknown sniper stared quizzically through their rifle’s sight. From their perspective their target had vanished upon impact and so they were frantically scanning the rooftop to reacquire.

“Agent, report.” Requested a voice over the sniper’s comm. “Have you re-acquired the target?”

“Negative.” Reported the sniper, unable to see around the roof-top entry way behind which Atticus was hidden.

[atticus]Shit. Shit. Shit.[/atticus] Atticus cursed as he inspected the vicious bruise on the right side of his chest.

The impact had occurred at the precise moment of the dematerialization, meaning that the path of the bullet had disrupted rather than destroyed the cells in the area. The result was a painful bruise tunnelling through his body and injury that could be likened to an instantly cauterized wound.

It hurt like hell.

‘Who was shooting at him?’ He wondered, all the suspicions that this event was orchestrated suddenly validated. He wanted that bullet, but first things first. He had to deliver the antiviral, a task of which had just gone from routine, to near impossible.

The shooter was obviously somewhere in the building across from the hospital. Probably the roof considering it was only a story or two taller. Atticus pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning his back up against the wall of the entryway. He saw white, catching himself as the building wavered under him.

Taking Bodan’s antiviral out of his pocket he gripped the syringe tightly as he debated it’s use. He needed it, but it’d knock his socks off and he needed his wits. Unfortunately he was already suffering viral symptoms and getting weaker by the minute.

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

….just a minute…….. a minute…

 

Fever was flushing elongated ears vibrant crimson while the rest of his coloring had turned an ashen pale gray. Silver was consuming pupils that had shrunk to desperate pinpricks. The good doctor was decidedly "out" of it. Breathing was shallow as the anti-viral fought to combat the engineered curse that had already spent a fair amount of time coursing through his veins.

 

Sensitive ears itched at sounds in the hospital but the man struggled to understand their meaning, or even where he was. Heat was making the mind fuzzy even as the body shivered from chills. Weight sank heavy against the counter…waiting…..waiting…

 

Hands felt cool against the heated jaw, the blink of thick lashes betrayed a lack of focus from the pupils. But something changed. Ears drooped downward, relaxed as shoulders fell as well. The sigh that oozed from his lips invoked a trust and calm he never displayed to others.

 

[maree]You do not have to fight this fight alone.[/maree]

 

Silver closed as his head dipped into the touch of her hands, as though the cold indifferent man gave himself over to her. As blood vessels began to swell and open under her touch his forehead shifted forward, resting against hers in highly uncharacteristic affection.

 

[declan]…I know Sam…..I know….[/declan]

 

The softly whispered words betrayed everything. The man that stood so cool and aloof in life, who let no one get close… that was who the Nevus had made him. THIS man…. this man who rocked his flushed forehead gently against hers…. whose words held warm passion…. this was the man he once had been.

 

The shoulders hung as though the weight of the world had just floated off his shoulders, breath oozing gently in his chest as a hand moved from his side to lightly cup her hip. Forehead pulled away, eyes still closed as his head fell back, lips parting to pull a much deeper breath into his lungs. Fog was not quite as thick as his very pores seemed to open up, accepting her gift. Fingers curled gently but firm on the flesh of her hip, intimate and familiar.

 

[maree] The vaccine will work. It’s time to go. They will wait for us in the boiler room until you’ve done what you needed to do.[/maree]

 

Nod was slight. What he needed to do….. needed to do…..

 

Head straightened and silver opened, pupils finally shifting, dilating and focusing on her. The blink hinted at familiarity even as he stared at her in the silence. Pupils traced up the side of her cheek, resting on the disheveled peach curls on top of her head before tracing down the other side. Frown hinted on his brow as his hand released her, this time the blink was clearly washing away the last of fog that was clouding his memory. Throat cleared softly as his weight shifted backward and the cool posture of the doctor she knew returned.

 

[declan]Maree…..[/declan]

 

Name was soft.. a hint of warmth still in the sound before his throat cleared again, eyes suddenly searching the room as focus returned and he recalled why he was here.

 

[declan]…. my other notes… need to get my other notes. They can't get those.[/declan]

 

Pushing from the counter he scooped up the binders he had been carrying and stepped around her towards the door. Turning his expression had lost the last of the lingering fog.

 

[declan]Need to get to my office on the second floor.[/declan]

 

She had the keys to the freight. It was their best chance to get up there without getting spotted.

[Maree'Anca Marin]

His eyes closed as she felt his muscles release into her hands.  He wasn’t there, no no NO!  Moment of panic was suppressed.  She was not too late, she couldn’t be too late.  It wasn’t until he moved and his forehead leaned against hers that she took a long breath and spoke.  Lashes were low, feeling the odd effects of her gift.  With telling a body to heal, she too felt what they felt, took on the sensations of what ailed them if only for a short time.  Sympathy pains, sometimes disorienting, emotions and physical reactions so strong they could occasionally bring her to her knees; never however, expecting an answer to her words of letting others help him in his fight.

"…I know Sam…..I know…."

Tickle in her chest was affectionate, odd.

 

Sure, the doc was attractive, but... she'd never been in that game.  Hadn't thought of him that way before.  It was an effect of what she was doing... had to be.  He'd said a name, and where most women would feel a twinge of anger, possessiveness, competition, offense, she did not.  The artisan had a sprite-like demeanor. Calm, playful… ultimately free, she took ownership of nothing.  People were not things to control and own, and that’s why she’d been the brunt end of a lot of spiteful female ‘competition’ when she first arrived.  The magus was never in a competition.  People were not a game, and she never wanted to be in the ‘game’.  He didn’t want to be either...  the moment he spoke through his delirium, she knew why, and understood everything.

 

Absolutely everything about him. 

 

Bodhan and she had lost before the Resonance.  They were a pair, alone before the world became barren.  Then they lost each other. Twins, of course it was more putrid of a terror than most.  To lose, Sam- most likely a spouse, made everything else pale in comparison.  A mate was someone you chose, not someone you were placed with by fate.  The darkness she’d felt the moment she touched him pooling in the pit of her stomach, was that piece.

 

That was the missing piece.

 

Maybe she was taking advantage, maybe not… but her words seemed to hit a place where he was listening through an impenetrable fog, getting a response where she’d been losing him before.  Was this what it felt like to save a life?  Did he feel this every day?

 

Keep him thinking.  Keep him talking.

 

[maree]…then let people share your burdens.[/maree]

 

Touch, contact… when she volunteered at hospice, it was the difference between a peaceful sleep and truly being alone…  As his head tilted back, lips pressed against his cheek and then her cheek followed suit to rest against his, holding the weight of his head in her hands… worried he was going to collapse, listening to his breathing, speaking straight into his ear.

 

[maree]C’mon DeClan.  You’re stronger than this.[/maree]

 

She’d never called him by his first name.  He was simply, basically… her boss.  Even if just for a moment she could take the weight away, lower lip chewed quietly as he relaxed, and she in turn felt the tension in her chest.  Heat, pallor, chills, the sickness and sadness, a disjointed torsion between what she was feeling now and the empathetic impulse she had pulled from him.  He was settling back to consciousness, and she… was reeling in the echo of a deep melancholy, chest seizing panic at… at… gunfire… and the sickness itself.

 

Her own lashes fluttered as his wits seemed to pull back around him.  His breath was stronger, she was still fighting with hers… the echo.  It would pass, debating whether to move his hand that had found itself on her hip.  He was clearly still hallucinating. It was okay.  It wasn’t about her, and it was allowing him to come around.

 

[maree]C’mon.[/maree]

 

Though needing to get back on his feet, they didn’t have all the time in the world to wait.  Head pulled back, pupils focusing in and out as he found the coordination to look at her.  Almost immediately his posture changed and his throat cleared.  He was uncomfortable.

 

That was okay too.

 

Lips pursed, a soft smile at the conscious silver as she lost the formerly groggy doc to his shift backward, her hands pushing back through the pepper at his temples to pull the locks away from his face, to help clear his mind, and..  admittedly, sneak her thumbs over the ears she was fascinated with.  Okay, a selfish move, but a harmless one in her book.  She released him back to his own space he seemed to suddenly need.

"Maree….."

[maree]You’re  not the only one that knows the timing on the elevators.[/maree]  words were almost a whisper, tired, but also avoiding attention from anyone outside.

 

"…. my other notes… need to get my other notes. They can't get those."

He was moving, to put distance between them, and thankfully so.  Palms moved to press to the tops of her thighs, leaning slightly forward on them.  She was fighting through her own, well his, fog.

"Need to get to my office on the second floor."

Definitive nod preceded the deep breath.

 

[maree]I need a moment.[/maree]

 

She didn’t even try to explain what had just happened.  If he wanted to know he would ask.  The magus was trying to shake off the effects faster than was probably prudent.

 

[maree]You might get a headache… like nitro.[/maree]

 

Truth.  She’d just basically done the same thing that the pills did.  Another breath was drawn, shaky exhale before she stood straight again.  Maybe it was too soon, but she did it anyway, senses flushing wide.  The world was a book.  Looking for danger, the others… Gale was on the roof and he was in pain.  More panic, shadowed consciousness.  Should she help?

 

[maree]Notes, then the rest are waiting for us in the boiler room.[/maree]

 

Gun.

 

She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the way of the doors.  The heated burst from before, wasn’t… spent.  Shove of her hand forward instead sent the doors cracking into the face of a fourth gunman, the force enough to clatter him backward.  Some things still worked, she tossed the good doc the keys from her belt, feet quick to take care of the fallen jerk the old fashioned way.  She was still human after all, and the human had the capacity to kick ass… though the butt of a rifle to knock him out wasn’t something they’d taught her in Aikido.

 

Oh well.

 

Eyes scanned the dim hall, meeting him at the elevator.

 

She needed rest to make it work again, or calm. Neither of which she had at the moment, she was still fighting off his residual panic, his sickness.   She had to find that composure again, there was a true sense it would be needed.

 

Whiff from her lower lip blew a stray curl out of her eyes… the odd need for elevator music as the slow as hell freight had to decide it was okay to open its doors.  She’d complained about it to maintenance before… seems, of course, they never fixed it...

[Atticus Gale]

If he smoked, this would be the perfect time. The canisters were right in the direct line of sight of the sniper, or snipers, he couldn’t be sure. An all around shitty situation. His chest throbbed, his right arm severely hindered by the injury but with every minute that went by their antiviral concoction became less effective.

‘Damn he hated guns. Coward’s weapon!’ Atticus cursed to himself, grimacing as he tested the mobility of his arm. The same old debate raged on in his head every time he’d been forced into a situation with ‘shooting metal penises’. Few things pissed him off more than to be at the mercy of a killing-device and it was that hatred that drove him to the most extreme of his options.

Across from the hospital, perched over the edge of one of the roof top structures the sniper pondered the significance of the canisters left behind. Zooming in with his scope he could only conclude that they were designed to somehow counter the airborne virus in the hospital. Just how, he wasn’t exactly sure, until he noted the nearby ventilation system. If they had created an aerosol delivery system the air intake would make for the perfect method of distribution, except for one thing, the filtration system. Realistically, it shouldn’t work. Even he realized that, not unless the guy had a trick up his sleeve. Speaking of which, he wondered where the hell that tall guy had taken off to? When he shot him, he figured he must have fallen or something. Seemed like he vanished but what were the odds of running into one of the ‘altered’. Realistically pretty slim. Better to accept that he fell behind the wall at the edge of the roof and simply tripped right out of sight. Yeah, the world had changed. The black tendrils of the Nevus above bathed in their violet glow was a constant reminder but the ‘freaks’ that came with it weren’t as common as most would had lead people to believe. The agent knew this for a fact, unfortunately one still always had to be cautious. To account for the supernatural. Then, something caught his eye. Sticking out from behind the roof access way was the sleeve of the yellow coloured hazmat suit the guy had been wearing. It was only a few centimetres of material but the colour was unmistakable. He zoomed in closer, hoping to spy signs of blood. If he could be so lucky. At least the guy wasn’t moving. A good sign in itself, but as seconds dragged into minutes the fraction of the whole had remained perfectly still. No one stayed that still unless they were unconscious or dead and the sniper seriously doubted that either of those applied to this situation.

CRACK!

The attack came out of nowhere. One moment the sniper had been sweeping the rooftop with his scope, the next, a spastic mass of arms and legs spinning through the air.

Nine feet below his perch he struck the rooftop with a heavy thud, teeth and blood spilling from his busted mouth. He should have been dead, but the Vampire had been hit by worse. As the sniper rolled over, shaking off the impact from a kick that should have taken his head off the tall Nordic attacker peered over his shoulder and realized that he was no human.

Atticus knew well the effects of the nocturnaeximius-virus, recognized the fangs right away. The dark skin bore the typical ashen paler, making it almost appear grey. His eyes flashed a bestial shine.

‘Crap.’

Atticus just couldn’t catch a break. Of all the goddam things, a vampire! He’d be strong but he was far more worried about his speed. They were unnaturally fast beings and the quickness of their thought wasn’t far off. Suffering from the injury to his chest Atticus had to act while the vampire was still groggy if he was going to walk away from this fight.

It was obvious to the inhuman sniper what he was dealing with now. Some kind of ‘altered human’ that could fly. How else could have come out of nowhere like that? Wasn’t flying now though. He was just standing there like a fool. ‘Did the guy actually think he was take him on hand-to-hand?’ The vampire laughed, sprang to his feet and drew his sidearm. The high-powered handgun flashed to shooting position in a fraction of second while the large man remained helplessly frozen.

BOOM!

Gun powder flashed in the night.

The bullet impacted the side of the air conditioning unit the tall man had been standing in front of. He had vanished but there was the momentary glint of his form moving to his right. A ghostly blue image bearing the soft, faded tracings of wings briefly appeared. It was like viewing something through a veil, then it was gone.

The tall pale haired man reappeared then vanished again like a diver coming up for air and descending once again. The analogy wasn’t far from the truth, Atticus couldn’t sustain the form for very long and literally began to lose his breath. Something the sniper could take advantage of. The wind-man, whatever he was, left a trail and all the Vampire had to do was calculate where he’d solidify and put a bullet through his head.

As Atticus darted here and there, the barrel of the gun followed, readjusting, calculating the next ‘reappearance’. It wouldn’t be long. Just a few more passes and he’d have him. Gusts of wind in his wake stirred the loose gravel surface of the roof betraying his movements even more. The ‘wind thing’ was tiring, slowing down. Soon he’d need to reconstitute. The phantom image streaked across the vampire’s path, he easily averted it. Wind rushed by. The sniper anticipated whipping the gun quickly to his left and fired.

Smoke from the barrel of the gun slithered into the wind. The bullet had found it’s mark but Atticus had not adhered to his established pattern. As the bullet harmlessly passed through his ethereal form, he slowed his movement, the tell-tale image of the zephyr was only made visible by the use of force to move unnaturally. Drifting upon the natural course of the wind Atticus was completely invisible and able to endure much longer behind the veil. He also didn’t need hover about the rooftop. Atticus could have gone anywhere at anytime but before the Vampire realized it he solidified directly behind him. Subtle taunted near to the edge it was time for Atticus to strike. Grabbing the sniper by the collar his leather jacket he hired the vampire off of the roof in one tremendous and irresistible throw.

Vampires definitely didn't fly. Atticus cooly watched as the vampire’s body crumpled against the pavement, bouncing in a lifeless heap. As resilient as these creatures were he doubted he’d be walking away from that. ‘Good riddance!’

Floating into the air, Atticus slowly flew back to the hospital’s rooftop and to the canisters. Tired, sore and ready to collapse he still had to deliver the antiviral.

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

A whisper in his ear. The tickle of long mahogany hair on his cheek. Breath that always seemed to smell of strawberries. Memories….sensations… from another life…..another world. He was drowning in them until the warm tones of another voice cracked the shell of illusion.

 

[maree]….then let people share your burdens.[/maree]

 

Gentle touch along his cheek drew a shudder up his spine. Memories. Deep, potent memories were fighting through the chains he had buried them behind. But even as the weakest links began to pull apart, the lid slammed closed once more as the foggy haze of infection began to lift.

 

Silver orbs were focusing in and out at the woman that stood uncomfortably close to him. Elongated ears dipped in shy confusion as he shifted his weight away from her.

 

[maree] You’re not the only one that knows the timing on the elevators.[/maree]

 

Corner of his lips ghosted upward as he recalled finally where they were and what he had been doing. But muscle through his cheek stiffened as her fingers pushed up into his peppering gray temple locks, the trace of her thumb over his ears causing them to shy even further downward.

 

His research!

 

That was what he had gone back for, the other notes. Moving to the doors he listened.

 

[maree]I need a moment.[/maree]

 

[declan]…you don’t have one….[/declan]

 

Response was quiet as ears twitched at sounds down the halls, barely registering her comments regarding the boiler room and the others waiting. He was about to lay a hand on the small of her back to help speed along her recovery and movement but she beat him to it, grabbing his arm to pull him from the doors.

 

Silver blinked as the doors snapped outward into the oncoming enemy and the woman tossed him the keys before knocking out their attacker. He was being rescued by an Amazon.

 

His stumble to the elevator was a bit dumbfounded as he fumbled with the binders in his arms before shoving the key in and recalling the beast as she came to join him. Silver orbs blinked at her again as she blew a curl from her forehead while they waited for the heavy steel doors to open.

 

The "janitor"….. was an amazon.

 

Stepping into the metal beast he pushed for the fourth floor and waited for the freight elevator to take action. Lips parted to say something only to close again as the ears perked up and dipped once more, flushed still from the touch of her thumb.

 

Socially awkward was the norm for the good doctor. He came to work, went to the bar where he was far too well known by the bartender only, and he went home. That was the extent of his life for the last eight years.

 

Amazon warrior janitors were not really in his wheelhouse of expertise.

 

[declan]…thanks….[/declan]

 

Soft word finally breached the space as the beast came to a halt and the doors began to open. Whether it was for taking out the guards… doing what she had done to him to flush out the infection…or simply for coming after him was uncertain. But the gratitude hung out there for her to take either way.

 

As the freight door rattled open they were greeted by a deserted hallway, lights flickering and sparking as the hospital remained under siege. Frowning he glanced down both ways before taking off for his office at the end of the hallway.

 

Hand lay on the side panel of the door, one of the only rooms in the entire hospital that had such security. He had insisted and when he threatened to leave and go practice elsewhere the board had capitulated, even to the demand that he installed it himself. No one in the hospital had access to his small office.

 

The space was ridiculously small, an insult even. But the doctor had never minded, he was rarely in the space that held only a small desk and a single chair with a massive safe beside it. Hand again lay on a pad until the light turned yellow. As the first of the lock separated he quickly punched in the code. A date that still haunted him. His wedding date. The second layer of security passed, he leaned forward to let the safe ocular reader verify the silver eyes of the elf were his own before breaching the final layer of lock to open the safe.

 

As the door swung open he pushed back the chair to grab the empty duffle under his desk, stuffing the binders he already had in there before beginning to empty the safe. Stacks of papers and binders were crammed into the bag before followed by samples sealed in airtight tubes. He struggled to zip the canvas before standing and pulling it over his shoulder.

 

Nodding towards the hallway his lips parted only to clamp shut as gunfire erupted again above them. The roof.

 

Silver looked at Maree, the expression soft. If that big Nord didn’t release the agent, all the rescuing of his notes was for nothing. Heavy duffle was adjusted as he grabbed her hand and moved back to the elevator with the woman in tow. Strong fingers wrapped with a delicate care around hers, thumb lightly stroking her palm as he pulled her into the elevator, the weighted duffle dumped at her feet as he fingered through her keys looking for the stairwell keys so he could access the roof. Pulling them free he handed her the rest, hand cupped over hers as the smile came with a soft affection he held for no one. Silver traced her features again, hand hesitating before lifting to brush the back of his fingertips against that stray peach curl that insisted on dangling over her eyes.

 

Stepping away he cleared his throat gently, pushing the button for the basement as he stepped into the hallway.

 

[declan]….dont follow this time Maree. Get those to your brother. You can guard them far better than I can. I need to help that dumb CDC goon. If we don’t get the antiviral released in the hospital…..the infection will get out into the streets and beyond hope of containment.[/declan]

 

Silver fell to the duffle as the doors began to close. He never entrusted his research to anyone. Maree was not anyone. Not to him. Flicking back up to her, he breathed deep.

 

[declan]….keep them safe.[/declan]

 

Lips ghosted a hint of a smile as the ears began to flush a deep crimson as he added even quieter before the doors closed.

 

[declan]….keep yourself safe…..[/declan]

[Maree'Anca Marin]

She was losing the barrier between where her emotions ended and his began, even after he’d stepped away and she was pulling herself together.  Winded.  Disoriented… used to being the grounded one, rested, not under stress, helping someone with a brush stroke or take a photo with hands that were almost too old to hold a cup.  This, was untraveled territory.  Was she picking up him, was she picking up herself, or some strange tangle of the both together?  Either way… it was coming from somewhere, and it baffled her.

 

She’d seen the smile.  Dr. Asher didn’t smile. She did.  Empathetic himself perhaps?

 

"…you don’t have one…."

The mage had been unaware she’d said anything, eyes snapping to him, trying to pull thoughts apart… like separating paint that was already mixing to become another brilliant shade of something new.  Sound, movement, her body did what it had been trained to do without a second thought.  She was hair-triggered, and it was starting to scare her.  Training as a human, also tangled inexplicably with the “not so human” part of her.  Unsure of what to think, no time anyway…

 

Until the uncomfortable wait for the doors.  Probably only a few seconds, but… Long breath pulled in, finally able to perceive the physical surroundings around her again.  Everything was ceasing to be an uncontrolled assault on her brain.  His ears hadn’t escaped her either, they were… animated, like a bird on his shoulder telling everyone around him his secrets.

 

The thought brought a corner of her lip up for a brief moment before they stepped into the elevator, and the weird felt even weirder in the sudden isolated silence of the chaos around them.  It still peppered on her skin, like a bat of air from an impending storm.

"…thanks…."

She blinked at him, chest seizing again as the doors began to open.  This was not the “somewhat” safe hallway they had just left.  It was an entirely new tangle of uncertainty, sparking lights catching her eyes like potential aggressors as they moved. Notes. They were going for notes.  Of anyone in the world, she understood.  Bodhan though, his notes were in his head.  He rarely wrote anything down in any intelligible, permanent or organized fashion, which was why he was always in such danger. To pry into his work, they had to have him front and center and find a way to make him talk.

 

She could feel it before she heard it, eyes upward just before the gunfire plinked holes in the silence, the man from the museum was familiar to her, she could feel him.  Breath sucked in softly as she was being hauled back to the elevator.  She didn’t want him to touch her. No.  She absolutely didn’t want him to touch her… with it came the reality of what he was planning to do. The empath could feel it, in more than just her creeping power, it was his touch.  Apologetic.  The touch of a man about to do some dumb ass shit.  It all happened so fast, leaving her holding the keys, the bag, lashes fluttering at the spring of a curl that was handled.

 

She was numb, so overwhelmed with everything from all sides it was the only thing her body could do to handle the onslaught shorting out her senses.  This was the price that was paid.

 

Brow furled.

 

Was she seeing actual expression or was that what her brain was forcing her to see?

 

Blink was quick.

 

Grab him. Grab him!

 

"….dont follow this time Maree. Get those to your brother. You can guard them far better than I can. I need to help that dumb CDC goon. If we don’t get the antiviral released in the hospital…..the infection will get out into the streets and beyond hope of containment."

Maybe it was panic, something streaked her expression.  He was giving her his research.  He was going to the roof.  Reality.

"….keep them safe.….keep yourself safe….."

 

No.  No!

 

Keys stuffed in her pocket, hand slapped the door, fingers fearlessly sliding in between to trigger the barely registering sensors to pause and bounce back.  She knew how to get the doors to open.

 

Silence.

 

The pale jade sparkled slightly, flicked with embers that died out as she stared at the silver.  She was fighting for words, there were none, she didn’t just save his ass for him to go up and die.  It was true; it wasn’t just her brother that had the spark of ginger temper, cheeks flushing uncharacteristically hot.  She had only seconds before the elevator bell would go off because the doors had been open too long.  It would draw attention.  They didn’t want attention.

 

[maree]Stop it with the death wish,[/maree] she hissed under her breath.  The scold wasn’t just a scold, it was filled with things too complicated to explain.  Cheek twitched.  [maree]He’s on the roof, near the AC unit.  He’s hurt.[/maree]  Dry lips rolled through her teeth, the concerned expression hidden by an impatient one.  [maree]Bo doesn’t like to read notes, he’s weird like that.  He has to talk it out.  He needs to talk it out.  He needs someone to talk it out with him.[/maree]

 

Which meant the elf better make it back alive.

 

Seconds.

 

She leaned out suddenly, free hand on the back of his neck as she pressed her forehead against his for longer than she should have, eyes pressed tight.  For her, a twin that could speak conversations with complete silence, the gesture was more intimate than words could explain- to the casual observer, a gesture of concern.  She leaned back just a quickly, letting go of the door just before it would start to scream.

 

[maree]Back stairwell.  It comes out close to the roof edge.  There’s cover there.[/maree]

 

Silver disappeared behind the closing of her own cold reflection.  Heel of her hand ground into each eye socket as she felt the elevator move, swiping the hot tears sluicing from dark lashes.  It was too much; she had to pull it in, raw nerves, an exhausted psyche.  It danced dangerously on the edge of losing grip with sanity.

 

Keep them safe. 

 

Focus.

[Atticus Gale]

The ventilation unit had a filtration system which would affect the delivery of the antiviral, but Atticus was aware of a bypass. It was initiated in case of a fire but with the whole damn hospital on lock-down that would probably be overridden. Fortunately, when it came to ‘air systems’ the good doctor had become somewhat of an expert over the years. It was hardly the first time he’d entered a building by way of secured vents and he’d learned a thing or two about the mechanics.

Both arms burdened with the canisters, Atticus made his way to a large group of enclosed fans at the center of the roof. Everything was spinning, he tripped and nearly fell a few times, over uneven surfaces, conduit lines and drainage pipes. All he had to do was locate the system’s control panel. It would be locked, but he was confident he’d be able to pry it open. He had to.

Just a few more steps and — the pebbled surface beneath his feet suddenly jumped up and smacked him. Flickering eyes focused on a rolling canister. Atticus had passed out; his injury was more severe than he thought. Sprawled out, canisters strewn about, he winced in pain as probing fingers inspected the ‘impact site’ of his chest wound. He felt warm, nauseated, all at once recognizing the signs of the ‘sickness’. He had hoped to stave off the use of the anti-viral but the wound it seemed has accelerated the symptoms.

Unable to stand, Atticus struggled into a sitting posiition, leaning against one of the ventilation units. His vision was blurry, it was getting difficult to concentrate. He blindly rummaged into his inside pocket for the syringe the Elfin doctor had begrudgingly gave him. He was so hot. Sweat dripped from his brow, stung his eyes. The anti-viral would save him but unfortunately it would also intensify his symptoms. What choice did he have? Wriggling a bare shoulder out of his jump suit, Atticus stuck in the syringe and squeezed the plunger.

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

Her expression held that spark of panic as he told her not to follow, to take his research to her brother while he went up to help the CDC guy. At least she seemed rooter to her spot as the doors closed. Turning he was about to make for the emergency stairwell when the doors to the freight hitched and slid back open.

 

Damn. So close.

 

He should have known it would not have been so easy to have her go "quietly". But as he turned to face her, silver met jade and the world stood still. Silence lingering as her cheeks betrayed a deep flush that mesmerized the older eyes.

He blinked as she railed at him, dark pupils shifting as he took note of the twitch through her cheek and roll of her lips through her teeth. Roof…..AC……hurt…… he got it… sort of. Truth was his mind was wandering with the touch of fever that still warmed his skin… wandering to thoughts he hadn't had for nine years now.

 

What was that flutter in his chest….?

 

Her brother needed to talk. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but he got the impression it was said to reinforce that he was not to get himself killed up on the roof. Was that warning for her brother's benefit… or her own?

 

And why the hell did he even care!

 

Throat cleared as he gave a faint nod only to have her hand suddenly on the back of his neck. He froze as her forehead pressed to his, chest forgetting to breathe. And just as quickly she was gone, the elf swaying ever so slightly on his feet.

 

Fever…… must be the fever……

 

Blink back at her was inquisitive, a little lost but curious at the same time. Nod came as she reminded him of the back stairwell. And just like that the damn steel doors stole her visage from him.

 

Dry lips were licked before he shook his head to clear the fog. Stairs…back…. roof… MOVE.

 

Feet finally scrambled down the hall, hand slapping the back stairwell handle to throw the door open. Steps were taken two at a time, the white coat shrugging off his shoulders as he did, the doctor's garb fluttering down between the stairwell corners as he sprinted upward.

 

Door was nearly flung open but at the last moment he gathered his wits and was more prudent. Slamming the metal barrier open would likely attract the attention of whomever was firing. Instead it was gently cracked and the doctor slid out, crouching at the brick wall to peek around the corner. AC unit…. but where was Mr CDC?

 

The Nord wasn’t hard to miss as he stumbled with his arms full of the canisters. As he suspected, the aerosol had not yet been released. Eyes narrowed as the man struggled to make the fans. Shot? Or infected?

 

Didn’t really matter when the guy face planted on the blacktop roof. SHIT.

 

Feet were quiet as he crept quickly towards the downed man. By the time he got there the man was sticking the syringe into his shoulder and depressing the anti-viral into his own veins.

 

[declan]…. you should have taken that a while ago….[/declan]

 

Quiet words came from behind the Nord as he slid quietly in beside him. Skilled hands were pushing the shoulder back to quickly look the man over, seeking blood.

[Atticus Gale]

Atticus rolled his eyes toward the Elf, twisting his groggy expression into a ‘no shit’ smirk. His particular ‘kind’ of metabolism didn’t react so well to anti-virals, but he didn’t have to explain that to Quinn. His condition was obvious.

[atticus]It’s internal.[/atticus] Atticus grunted, wincing in pain from the pressure of the doctor’s probing fingers. [atticus]I’ll be alright.[/atticus] He assured him, reaching over with his good arm and weakly tugging at the small door beside him. The panel, about the size of a laptop was hinged on one side and secured with a pad lock on the other.

[atticus]We have to get this open and bypass the filtration system before releasing the aerosol.[/atticus] He explained.

All they needed was something to hit the damn lock with. Something heavy. Blurry eyes scanned the rooftop but from his lowered vantage could spy nothing of use. [atticus]Got any ideas?[/atticus] he posed to the Elf, while futilely trying to bend back the small metal door.

He had little strength left. At least not enough for feats of superhuman strength. It was up the quick witted doctor now, or rather he prayed the man possessed the problem solving skills he seemed to portray.

[atticus]Once it’s open. I can do the rest.[/atticus]

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

He got a rolled eyes from the big guy as he remarked on the lateness of the anti-viral. Truth was even he had been late with it, his brow still slick with moisture, neck and ears marked with a vibrant crimson as he looked for signs of injuries. He had heard the shots. He had been sure that the man was suffering from wounds as much as the virus.

 

[atticus]It's internal. I'll be alright.[/atticus]

 

Frown glanced up from inspecting the chest to the vibrant eyes of the Nord. Doubt flickering in the quiet grays.

 

Maybe. Somehow the large man looked worse than the doc felt though.

 

Eyes followed as the man tugged on the pad locked panel to the vents. Still the gray orbs looked skeptical. But truth of the matter is he knew how surgical equipment worked, how his bike worked, and how his boat worked. Beyond that he was pretty oblivious. He had to trust the guy knew what he was talking about.

 

[atticus] We have to get this open and bypass the filtration system before releasing the aerosol. Got any ideas?[/atticus]

 

Did he look like Popeye? He was a surgeon not a strongman. Hell if anyone could open it, it would be the giant on the ground.

 

Brow furled thoughtfully, silver orbs flicking around the rooftop before looking the man over again. Eyes flicked around wondering where the gunman might be.

 

[declan]….stay here. Got an idea.[/declan]

 

With that he made his way back to the stairs, legs still a bit wobbly. He had used his burst of energy coming up to the roof, down the steps he held the rail a bit tighter. His micro-surgery OR…fortunately only a few floors down. Ears twitched at the sounds coming from below. Fast…needed to be fast.

 

Feet stumbled as he slid into the doorway of the OR moving quickly to metal case by the wall. Canister was yanked out before he worked to get back to the roof.

 

By the time he made the blacktop he was heaving. Perspiration glistening down his neck as he fought for air. Keeping low he made his way over to the Nord, coughing as air fought to enter dry lungs. Words were elusive as he instead shook the long silver canister. The steel nozzle was placed against the lock as he pushed the long handle in, liquid nitrogen releasing in a gush. It was used in microsurgery, especially for cancer.

 

[declan]…. best I could come up with…[/declan]

 

Quiet words came as he used nearly the whole can before standing, hand against the wall as he drove his heel down on the lock.

 

Once…..twice…. third time was a charm.

 

As the metal plinked to the ground, he crouched beside the man, breath finally coming easier.

 

[declan]… now what?[/declan]

[Atticus Gale]

[atticus]Get the canisters.[/atticus] Atticus instructed before slowly rolling onto his knees and opening the control panel.

He felt like crap. Everything was spinning. His stomach rumbled, the back of his shirt was soaked through with sweat. The anti-viral was doing it’s work and all he had to do was keep it together for just a little while longer.

[atticus]Okay, let’s see what we got here.[/atticus] He said, peering into the box of wires, circuits and relays. A complex mess to the untrained eye but Atticus knew just enough.

[atticus]This oughta do it.[/atticus] He unconvincingly announced before pulling out a few wires and connecting them.

An amber light started blinking then suddenly a alarm sounded, the pulsating screech echoing across the rooftop.

[atticus]Don’t worry. It’s just a system purge. It thinks it’s flushing out contaminants. After a few minutes it’ll vaporize the filter and back draft. That’s when you’ll pump in the aerosol.[/atticus]

Atticus sat back down against the filtration unit, head falling wearily onto his hand. Thank heavens everything worked out, just another minute and…

Something caught his eye. A flash of movement in the partially open doorway of the roof access. [atticus]Quinn.[/atticus] he called out, just loud enough to be audible over the sound of the alarm.

Atticus drew the Elf’s attention to the doorway with a concerned look. A zombie was poking it’s head through the opening. It was attracted by the alarm and more were following.

[atticus]Well that’s just fucking perfect.[/atticus] Atticus swore.

He didn’t swear often but he was feeling especially vulnerable at the moment and the siren wouldn’t shut off until the purge was completed. About another minute. Unfortunately, the zombies were closing in fast.

[DeClan Asher Quinn]

Getting the canisters the frown remained over the gray eyes. The big guy said the right things to "sound" well versed in these things as the alarm went off but the elven doctor had doubts that he actually knew what he was doing.

 

How exactly was the surgeon supposed to know when the filter vaporized and the thing back drafted?? Lips parted about to ask as such when the highly developed ears twitched and head snapped to the side before the Nord whispered his name. Head shook to warn him to be quiet as the silvery orbs narrowed at the doorway watching the head begin to peek out.

 

This was a problem. He wasn’t like Maree. He didn’t have that sort of power or strength. But he wasn’t helpless either. Crouched beside the Nord the orbs were flicking around the roof looking for something, anything to get that damn door secured.

 

Canisters were set next to the big man as he kept low to the ground.

 

[declan]… you are on your own with the canisters CDC.[/declan]

 

The whisper came as he slunk around the back of the brick enclosure that held the door on the other side. The awning on the back had caught his eye, clearly protecting something and he wasn’t disappointed. The large coiled firehose was behind a glass compartment and the ax to break it and ventilate the roof in the event of a fire was hanging beside it.

 

One he could take on…. many?

 

Unlike others scarred by the Nevus he hadn't become an X-man.

 

The noise would only bring them quicker. He had to be fast. Ax was bounced in his hand a few times as he worked up the nerve to break the glass and snatch the hose. Firehoses were strong and would offer a decent "cord" to tie up the door. Trick was getting the door closed to do it.

 

He timed it. Feeling the count of the alarm in the hopes of drowning a bit of the sound out. As the next blast came the glass exploded with the head of the ax slamming through. Hand snatched the hose, cringing as his forearm scratched along a piece of jagged glass before he sprinted the back way around the brick enclosure. The door was opening towards him so offered some cover as his foot hit the metal, snapping it closed and on the head of the creature about to exit out onto the roof.

 

Damn.

 

The creature didn’t fall back down the stairs as the doc had been hoping but rather slammed into the door causing it to snap back at him, side of his forehead struck hard causing a set of stars to form before he caught sight of the creature attempting to clamor around the door at him. Steel was kicked again and as a decaying hand came around he put the ax to good use, its scream sure to bring more fast now.

 

Ax swung again as he now had a shoulder on the steel and dug his feet into the blacktop trying to force it closed. Nails ripped at the side of his throat as he grunted trying to keep the steel door moving in the right direction. A last wild swing of the ax took off the entire arm at the shoulder and allowed him to finally shove the door closed. The hose was yanked and woven though the handle on the outside and the latch on the wall before pulling it around the brick building, able to circle it twice before he was forced to tie off the hose. It wouldn’t hold long as the first bangs resonated as the metal door was struck from the inside. Stumbling backwards watching the door he held the ax ready to swing. Voice carrying over his shoulder.

 

[declan]…sure hope you know what you are doing![/declan]