His feet pounded as he raced along the empty corridor. The room numbers flashed past--8012, 8013, 8015. Jerking open door number 8019, he shut the door with strange carefulness, locking it behind him before jumping down the stairs three at a time.
How could this have gone astray? Elijah wondered, shedding the white coat he wore as he ran down the stairwell. And at such a crucial time too!
Reaching the ground floor, he yanked open the door, skidding slightly as he went from carpet to waxed marble, turned right, and kept running. People stared as he dashed past, a few calling for him to slow down. Where were the others? Hopefully Holly hadn't left her post, but--
"Freeze!"
Elijah didn't waste time or breath swearing, but instead used both to put on a spurt of speed. Behind him, people were shouting and there was the sound of booted feet on the marble, a sound heavier than the slapping of his own shoes. There was a gunshot and someone screamed--adrenaline made him run faster, ignoring the stitch in his side.
Just as he hit an intersection, something slammed into his right side with such force that both he and his interceptor went crashing through the large window on his left.
Elijah blinked away stars as someone pulled him to his feet.
"That was lucky, eh?" asked a familiar voice.
"Keth!" Elijah gasped for breath, the stitch turning into a fiery ache. "Car?"
"This way." Keth led him around the side of the building, both sprinting for their lives as gunshots rang out behind him--the single shooter had obviously gotten some help.
There was a black van waiting, one that both recognized. "Hurry up!" shouted the driver, someone in the back yanking open a door and standing out of the way as they barreled inside. Slamming the door, the van tore away as the driver hit the accelerator.
*
"Elijah. How long has Holly been positioned there?"
"Over a year."
The contrast between the two brothers was striking. Elijah was dressed outlandishly in green and pink, his long hair tied back in ponytail. Jason, on the other hand, was attired soberly in the black and white uniform-suit of his company, if it could be called such a thing. His dark brown hair hung over his eyes as he glanced down at the report again.
"Did you get her latest list?"
"Yes."
"Good. Luckily, your silly mistake didn�t affect her--no one was killed, her cover is safe, and our association cannot be linked to this little escapade."
Elijah stayed silent, waiting solemnly. He knew that there was something else his brother wanted to say to him.
Jason sighed, pulling the folder that held Elijah's report towards him; flipping it open, he proceeded to read over the report, ignoring his younger sibling entirely.
Bored but not showing it, Elijah looked over the room for the fiftieth time. Many would say that his large study reflected his personality; darkly paneled with equally dark furniture, there was nothing to say that there was anything to his brother than pure business--no pictures on the wall, no mementoes on the black desk. There were two filing cabinets in one corner of the room next to a bookshelf packed with books on magic and mythology, although Elijah knew that there was an entire shelf crammed with science fiction and fantasy paperbacks and well-worn thrillers at the very bottom where no one bothered to look. Other than the cabinets, bookshelf, a few leather-backed chairs, and a cream-colored Persian rug, the entire room was very Spartan.
Finally, Jason looked up at his brother, who snapped back to attention. "The amount of information you collected on this assignment was unsatisfactory. We may have her latest list of patients, but you failed to get the location of the wing and the passwords to unlock the doors, as well as the types of procedures."
"If I may be so bold, I'm not sure if she even knows the procedures yet."
Jason stared at his brother reproachfully for a second. "There's also the matter of your 'school research'." He arched his brows at the words. "Your last report was only half-finished, and what you did manage to do was riddled with code words. Why did you even feel the need to bring up that code?"
"I was interrupted. By...a friend."
"Tim."
"Yes."
He sighed. "How ironic that your best friend and my prodigy keeps interrupting our work. Are you quite sure that his power hasn't erupted yet?"
"You say it like it's a tooth. And no, I haven't seen a spark of it."
"That doesn't mean anything," Jason said, putting the report back in the folder and pushing it to one side of the desk. "The department still doesn't know what I can do. This stuff doesn't have to be flashy."
Elijah shrugged. "He seems like one of the people where it would be. What about Holly? She could always--"
"We can't afford another visit after what you did, and pulling her out so soon after your sloppy escape is out of the question."
Elijah scuffed his shoe nervously against the rug. "I said I was sorry about that."
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Elijah!" his brother snapped. "You were lucky as hell that they didn't figure out the connection between you two, and there's still the risk that they will."
"How was I to know that�"
"Enough. I've read the report." Jason reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a large manila envelope. "Take a seat."
Elijah did so gratefully. It was one of his brother's tricks to keep him standing for prolonged periods of time while they were discussing business, but whenever he was allowed a seat, it meant there were going to discuss more personal work matters. Any more personal and they could speak freely in the waiting room outside.
"It's been too long, Eli," Jason rubbed his eyes. �"hree months since you brought the possibility to my attention and we've yet to see anything real. Are you quite sure that--"
"Positive. I get the same feeling from him that I get from you. He's got a really powerful gift; I just don't know what in."
"There are only a few people who I deem as having 'really powerful' gifts, and Timothy is not one of those people yet. Is it possible to arrange a meeting sometime so I can judge him for myself?"
Eli shrugged. "I can try, but I'm not sure what I can do. Lately he's been really tense, so if we're lucky, the power will show itself soon."
"Let's hope so," Jason grumbled. "Is he the kind of person who hates?"
"Yes. Oh goodness, yes." Eli shivered, remembering some of the things his best friend had written when he was in a rage. "What, you're not afraid that it will turn out to be the wrong kind of flashy?"
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"Oh dear."
*
Another bad day. Eli sighed, unlocking the door to the house where he and his brother lived alone. Tim was in an even fouler mood than yesterday, were such a thing possible--it had to be soon.
Shutting the door, he tossed his stuff on the floor next to the door and took off his shoes before heading into the kitchen for a bite to eat. What did they have...� Aha! There was fresh bread on the counter--Jason must have gone shopping recently. Slicing off a couple of pieces, he buttered both and headed upstairs with the plate in hand to check if his brother was in his study.
He was, and rolled his eyes at Eli's snack. "At least you're carrying a plate."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, you hate crumbs getting all over the place."
"I hope you're not taking that in your room."
"Nah, just checking on you. Tim was in a pretty bad mood today, and I get the feeling I'm gonna get a call soon."
"For a regular human, you're pretty technologically attuned," his brother said laughingly, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Say that only after my cell phone rings, 'kay?" Eli headed downstairs again, searching for the book he�d been reading that morning and plugging his cell phone into the recharger while he was in the area.
A few minutes had passed before he found the paperback novel wedged between the cushions of the living room couch. Getting another few pieces of buttered bread, he snuggled down and got ready to read when there was the unmistakable video game music ringtone.
Putting the book and plate of food on the coffee table, Eli got up and raced to his cell, answering it as normally as possible. "Heya Tim. What's up?"
"Hey Eli. Uh...I...I need to tell you something. Is your brother at home with you?"
Eli leaned against the counter. "Yeah, he's up in his study. Why?"
"Uh...just asking, no reason."
"You wouldn't have asked if there wasn't a reason."
"Oh, can it. Look, I really need to talk to you and---possibly your brother. So, can I come over there?"
"Yeah, sure. Ten minutes?" He gave the directions to the house.
"Gotcha. See ya later." There was a buzzing sound and Eli knew that Tim had hung up. Closing his own phone, he left it charging and went upstairs to Jason's study again.
His home environment was a great deal more personal than his business one--personal effects were scattered about the room and there were three bookcases, two packed with paperbacks of any and all genres, the last filled with graphic novels and manga. Jason glanced up as his brother poked his head in and knocked on the door.
"That was Tim. Something's happened--he's coming over and I think he wants to talk to you."
"Really." He put down the novel he was reading. "Any specifics?"
"Not really, unless you count 'I need to tell you something' and 'Is your brother there?' as specifics."
"Mmm. Okay, thanks for telling me. I'll try to clean up a bit."
"Need some help?"
"No. Go read or something." Jason got up and started shifting the papers on his desk into different drawers. "I'll holler if I need a hand."
"'Kay." Eli went back downstairs and settled down to read.
Two chapters later, the doorbell rang. Eli put down the book and vaulted over the back of the couch to the door, yanking it open. "Hiya Tim!"
His friend was unusually pale, but otherwise normal. He must have had the fright of his life, Eli thought, letting his friend of and directing him to take off his shoes.
"Nice place you two got. Cozy."
"What, you thought it would be a two, three room apartment?"
"Kinda. Didn't really know what to think, truthfully." Tim scratched his head under his beret, then resettled the hat.
"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Eli picked up his empty plate and went to the kitchen, Tim trailing along behind.
"Yeah. Is there anywhere we can talk that's...y'know...private?"
"You're welcome to use my study if it's that important." Jason had exited the room and stood at the top of the stairs. Tim jumped a little at the sudden interruption, but nodded at the offer.
"That'd be nice."
"Want a snack?" Eli offered. Tim shook his head.
"Nah, I'm cool."
Moments later, the three were seated in Jason's now somewhat cleaner study, the stacks of paper having been filed neatly away in cabinets to leave the desktop clear. "Are you positive that this place is private?" Tim asked, looking around at the various bric-a-brac scattered about the room, eyes lingering on the small glass unicorn on one of the shelves.
"There are no listening devices, technological or otherwise, and no possible ways of placing them in this room. Rest assured that there is--to be poetic--a blanket of silence wrapped around this place, muffling the voices of the speakers."
Tim arched a brow. "You write poetry in your spare time? If not, you should."
"Eli dabbles in the art. Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?"
Tim glanced at Eli, who smiled reassuringly, nodded, and waved his lollipop in a circle before sticking it back in his mouth, all three actions clearly stating that he was merely an observer in this. The writer sighed and turned back to Jason.
"Well, I was bored and couldn't think of what to write. I mean, ever since..." he paused, glancing at Eli again. His friend merely stared back until Tim resumed speaking. "I was writing my story and a couple of characters popped up out of nowhere. Perfect description, characterization--it's almost like they were real people. I was interested, so instead of deleting it all, I tried writing some more. And then this really creepy thing happened."
Jason steepled his fingers and leaned forward, patiently listening.
"The paragraphs started writing themselves. I would be staring at the screen wondering what to write next and the words just started appearing letter by letter." He threw his hands into the air. "I don't know how the hell they did it, but there were real people in my story! Living, breathing people! But it was like they were fictional--they could do things I couldn't." His hands were flailing about in the air, trying to express his energy in a way his voice couldn't. Jason glanced back at his brother over Tim's shoulder--Eli responded by nodding and pointing mutely to the voice recorder in the corner.
"And then, they were gone. I wanted them gone because they were ruining my story--I mean, all I was doing was writing responses to the paragraphs they'd write, and that hardly made me a writer at all! But then, after they were gone, what else did I have to write? I couldn't think of anything!"
He fell silent, hands flopping to his sides.
"So you stopped writing that story?" Jason asked.
"Well, yeah. Writer's block, man--nothing was coming to me."
"And this afternoon?"
Tim bit his lip, thinking of the best way to phrase what he was going to say. "Well...I was bored because I wasn't writing, y'know? So I decided to scribble a little description to keep my writing skills sharp. Took a scrap of paper and started writing a detailed description of the kitchen rug--how the fringe would get caught in the vacuum cleaner, that kind of thing. When I was done, I just tossed it behind me and pulled another piece of paper up so I could try a description of the fridge. But I'd forgotten the flowers that went around the outside, so I turned around to get the paper and add that."
He paused again, ducking his head down and staring at the floor.
"What happened?"
"The paper...was stuck to the rug. I couldn't get it off! And the flowers were gone. I think that, somehow, my little description altered the rug's appearance."
Finished, Tim fell silent, but it took a minute for the other two to realize that. Eli got up quietly and turned off the recorder before slinking back to his seat while Jason leaned back in his chair, tapping his index fingers together thoughtfully.
"That's all?"
"That's all. I freaked out for a while before calling Eli, but I left the rug untouched, so if you wanna see it we'll have to go back to my house."
"I would like to see it, but maybe later." Jason paused, then reached down and pulled a laptop from the stacks of yet to be filed folders around his feet. "In the meantime, would you like to know what exactly is going on?"
Tim blinked. "Yeah, that would be nice. Actually, that would probably be the best thing to do at the moment."
"It's too much to explain all at once," Jason explained, booting up the laptop, "so I'll just let you read the file I've got on this and you can ask me questions later. That sound good to you?"
Tim nodded, waiting as Jason accessed a file and turned the laptop around so the younger boy could read it. Rising to his feet, he gestured to his brother. "I need to speak with Eli outside--just read it and knock on the door if you finish before we do."
Another nod and the brothers left the room, shutting the door carefully behind them.
Sighing, Jason leaned against the door and stared at his brother, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "So, what's your impression?"
Eli crossed his arms. "Professionally? He's untrained for the most part, but the fact that he's gone this long without an outbreak of his power shows amazing control, and the example of what he's told us shows that he's extremely powerful. We're going to have to be careful--aside from his initial nervousness, he's the kind of person whose arrogance and hatred would make him a dangerous and nasty foe."
Jason nodded thoughtfully. "And unprofessionally?"
"Personally, I have no idea how he knew to contact us. Me being told I can understand--I'm his best friend. But he shouldn't be so trusting of you unless he already knew something."
He shrugged. "Writers tend to pick up on extraworldly things. Maybe it's just a hunch that turned out to be correct. Maybe he's a Department infiltration attempt. It doesn�t matter."
"I can vouch that he's not a spy," Eli said softly.
"I know you can. And seeing as he's gone directly to the top for help, it's only fair that I teach him personally, especially with his power levels."
"What about them?"
"They're almost on par with mine. Don't you dare tell him I said that--I don't want the power going to his head."
Eli smiled wanly. "I won't tell him, no matter how unfair it seems."
"It's not unfair--it's a safety precaution."
Eli held up his hands defensively, uncrossing his arms. "No need to lecture me on the safety guidelines; I proofread them for you. Okay, I won't even hint at how strong he is. What's our next step?"
"If he accepts what he's read, then he go to his house and look at the example, then try to undo it. If he doesn't accept it, we convince him."
"And if he learns to control his power, will you force him to join?" There was a certain sadness to Eli's voice.
"As an Adept, yes." Jason sighed, seeing the expression on his brother's face. "We can't help it, Eli. He's already gotten himself involved merely by coming to us. But if it's any consolation, he'll be a last resort, okay?"
"That's not reassuring! The chances of him getting hurt are more than tripled than if he were doing regular Squadron work!"
"Lower your voice! I won't send him in alone," Jason snapped. "Even Adepts work in teams of at least two, and if a major development occurs, then he'll be with one of us."
Eli glared at his older sibling for a while before sighing deeply. "Fine. I don't like it, but I'll agree."
"Oh, and one other thing, Eli," Jason murmured as he turned around and put his hand on the doorknob, "I understand that your friendship will make you more emotionally involved than usual, but if we're on business, try to act professionally."
"But--"
Jason opened the door and Eli fell silent, following his brother into the room and shutting the door behind him. Tim was still reading the computer document, so the two brothers took their seats and waited in silence. Finally, he pushed the laptop away and put his head in his hands, shaking his head. The silence remained, nearly tangible as the young writer gathered his thoughts.
"So...are you telling me that--" he rubbed his hand across his face and stared evenly at Jason. "Are you saying that I have...magic?"
"No. Magic doesn't exist here, Tim. What you have are powers. Other than that simple fact, you're a perfectly normal human being."
Tim groaned and put his head in his hands again, mumbling, "But I'm not perfectly normal. I've got this ability."
Jason sighed. "What I mean is that there's nothing in your genetic code to say otherwise. It�' not a mutation that gives you this ability."
"Then what is it? What...what the hell is going on?"
Eli spoke for the first time, gazing distantly at a painting. "We don't know what causes this. Jason's got a theory, and it's the only one we have at the moment, so we're building off it as best we can. But we still haven't found a pattern."
"This�" Tim exhaled shakily. "This has happened to other people?"
Jason nodded. "Yes, and to children younger than you. I..." he glanced at Eli, who continued to stare at the painting, stubbornly avoiding his gaze. It was his decision to make.
"I'm running an organization to find and shelter people like you, to help them hone their gifts and use them for the good of mankind. Kind of like a mix between X-Men and Men in Black."
"And you want me to join?� Tim finally looked up.
"Yes. It would mean intense training--by me, no less--and you would need to memorize the rules, regulations, safety precautions, and other miscellaneous guidelines before even being considered active for the field, but it would mean complete control over your power."
"However," Eli interrupted, "the risk of being injured or killed would be slightly more than 70 percent. And these injuries--they're not merely to your body. Your mind could be destroyed."
"In short, the cons are higher than the pros," Jason finished.
Tim sat still for a moment, hands in his lap, staring blankly ahead. "...and if I say no?"
Jason steepled his fingers and gazed coolly at the young writer. "I'm afraid that's not an option. You�'e a danger to yourself and everyone around you if you refuse."
Tim threw his hands in the air. "So I don't have a choice?"
"No."
"That sucks. Fine, I'll join your cult. Why not?"
Jason arched a brow. "Nice way of thinking. I'll start instructing you now, if you want, and Eli'll go take a look at the...uh..."
"Rug." Eli rose. "Tim, can I have a key?"
Looking somewhat bewildered, Tim shrugged and tossed a key ring to his friend. "Kitchen rug."
"Got it." Eli waved, grinning, and left.
*
How the hell had it gotten to this? Eli wondered for the fiftieth time. It had been a full year since Tim had discovered his powers, and with daily training from Jason, he had gained Adept status and gone on three missions with Jason and Keth. Eli couldn't help but wonder if he was bad luck--this whole thing was going down the drain.
"Eli, the Denver faction's increasing. We�'e got a tip to her whereabouts, but I can't send Sophia in."
'Gas on a fire."
"Literally. I'm going to send you, Tim, and Adrian to meet her--if Adrian can't get her to come quietly, let Tim take care of it."
Eli gulped. "I thought you had a no-kill policy."
"I do. She's not going to be killed, but Tim is the only one who can take care of this--I've informed him of the procedure to take and he's agreed to follow it."
"Then why do I have to come along at all? I'm like a third wheel."
Jason rubbed his eyes wearily. The newly created faction following the rebel Maria Ann Denver had been growing in strength and numbers, and dealing with them--or attempting to do so, really--was making him lose sleep, especially with the recent kidnapping of a new member. "Because that was the deal with Tim. That either you or I would accompany him on missions, and quite frankly, I'm much too busy here to join him, no matter how dire the situation."
Eli nodded. "Okay, I see. So I am a third wheel."
"Sorry. Tim won't go without you and it is essential that he go."
"He still doesn't trust Adrian?"
Jason shook his head and sighed. "I'm not entirely sure if he trusts me, and I've been instructing him for a year. Good luck, Elijah."
Adrian knocked on the door.
"Come in."
The three males trooped into the room and there she was in all her fiery glory: Maria Ann Denver, leader of the faction and archenemy of Sophia. She smiled when she saw Adrian.
"Adrian! This is quite a surprise. Had I known you would be coming, I would have gotten refreshments of some sort."
"We wouldn't dream of bothering you with that," he replied. As the two chatted, Tim scribbled a hasty but detailed description of the young woman in a long notebook.
"So, what brings you three here? Decided to join my little group?"
Tim walked forward, hands still busy writing. "You've got fire powers, correct?"
She frowned. "Yeah. You asking for a demonstration?"
He smirked. "As much as I would enjoy seeing one, no, I'm afraid not." Ripping the piece of paper with the description off the notepad, he twirled it in his fingers a couple of times, then darted forward, grabbed her wrist, and slapped the paper down on her forearm.
She shrieked and shoved him away. "What the hell was that?"
"A precaution."
She glared, and then flipped her long and vividly red hair over her shoulder, cool and collected once more. "Silly kind of precaution. What good will sticky paper do?" Grabbing the edge, she tugged at the piece of notepaper but it stayed stuck firmly where it had been placed. "What the--"
"We're here to bring you in, Maria," Eli explained. "Jason would like to speak with you on a variety of subjects."
She smiled. "Bring me in...you can't be serious."
"We are. And if you refuse to come quietly, we'll use force."
"Then go ahead and use it!" She raised a hand, obviously attempting to conjure a fireball, but Tim's spell held. "What the hell!?"
"Amazing." Adrian's belief in Tim's abilities had boosted them.
"Guards! Guards!" Maria shrieked. "Attack!"
"s**t." Adrian grabbed her wrist and dragged her, still screaming, into the corridor. Rolling his eyes, Tim wrote something on a scrap of paper and slapped it over her mouth, silencing her cries. The action came a bit too late, as a gunshot ricocheted off the wall and shouting was heard.
They fled, Eli and Tim taking one route noisily to lead on their attackers, Adrian and a resistant Maria silently taking another.
Sure enough, thudding footsteps were heard behind them as Tim and Eli sprinted down a hallway.
"Do you--think--they got away?" Eli panted, lagging behind his friend.
"Hope--so." Tim skidded around a corner, Eli determinedly on his heels, their pursuers on his.
"Halt!" There was a gunshot, giving both boys a boost of adrenaline. Another corner and Tim slammed into a wall, Eli skidding to a stop behind him.
"You're cornered! Don't move or you will be shot!"
Eli spun to face the figure that advanced slowly towards them. "Tim, run! I'll try and hold them--"
There was a gunshot and he staggered, crying out in pain--Tim stared, frozen where he stood.
"I said don't move!"
Blood dripped down the pale blue shirt Eli wore as he pressed his hand against the wound in his shoulder, grimacing. "Dammit, Tim, get outta here!" he shouted, looking over his shoulder.
"Be quiet!"
Another gunshot. Eli jerked and fell to his knees, coughing up blood that pooled red on the concrete. Tim twitched as the person fired again, then shouted and ran forward, jerked out of his shock.
"Eli!"
He stumbled and dropped to his hands and knees when something thudded into his chest, bringing a sharp thudding pain with it. Only when his face met the pavement did his mind register the second gunshot. There were three more shots but he didn't feel them, his mind already fuzzing away into painful darkness, the echoes of the shots rippling about as the last thing his mind consciously grasped.
Eli. Oh god, Eli.
*
"Adrian found us?"
"Yes, and the only reason you're both still alive is because he believed you couldn't possibly be dead. Still, I'm pretty sure Tim's heart stopped for a minute."
"Is there any damage?"
"Woah, careful. Lie down, Eli. He's fine, but it's still not safe to take him out of the coma yet, so we can't assess whether or not his mind was affected. Just calm down."
A moment's silence.
"...do we have her?"
"Yes, Adrian got her here. Since you've been out of action, I've been having Adrian interrogate her--she's more open to him than she is to anyone else."
"How much longer till I can get up? I want to see Tim."
"About that."
"What? Jason, what�"
"I don't want you to see him anymore."
"What? I don't--"
"I'm going to tell him that you're dead. I don't want you--"
"Jason, don't do that--"
"--getting mixed up--"
"--he'll go crazy!"
"--in what he's--will you--stop that! Eli, lie down! Dammit, I don't want you getting mixed up in what he's doing!"
"You don't understand! You don't know what he's been saying!"
"Go to sleep, Eli."
"But--"
"It's better this way."
*
The infirmary was a rather desolate place, Tim thought. No windows to let in sunlight. The harsh florescent lights, along with the bare off-white walls, gave the place a dull, lukewarm atmosphere.
"...how long has it been?"
"Two weeks. I...I have something to tell you, Tim."
The invalid writer kept his eyes closed, fearing the worst. He'd been awake for three days, slowly shaking off the painkiller-induced fog that gripped his mind. Every day he had asked about his best friend, but had gotten no replies. And now his brother was here...this had to be bad.
"...where's Eli?"
"...I'm sorry."
Tim squeezed his eyes tightly shut, willing himself not to cry. It was no use--he could feel the hot tears welling up, his throat tightening up. Jason stood awkwardly beside the bed, watching his prodigy silently.
It was oddly painful to watch, such a strong person breaking down into tears.
"I'll let you get a hold of yourself. Ring when you're ready to talk." Jason turned and left the room, letting the infirmary door close behind him.
Eli was waiting in the hallway a few doors down. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, looking the most furious his brother had seen him for a while.
"So that's it? You're just going to lie your way out of this?"
"He can take care of himself. You told me yourself that when you were in danger, he froze up. The two of you together are a liability, and I cannot afford to have that happen again."
Eli sighed. "You really don't understand. He'll go insane if he thinks I'm dead--he's the kind of person who will actively hunt for revenge!"
"Then I'll let him take it out on the faction. Any news on them, by the way?"
Eli bit his lip, scowling, and then forced himself to speak. "Secondary leader's popped up. Calling themselves the Ember."
"Catchy. I take it Ember's demanding the release of Denver?"
"Yes. There's a full report on your desk." Eli turned to walk away.
"Eli, stop sulking. This is for the best."
His brother paused, but didn't stop "He'll make you eat those words."
Jason stared after his brother for a moment, then a nurse tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir, Timothy's asking for you."
Jason nodded and went in. Tim was sitting upright and staring at the opposite wall, hands limp at his sides.
"Paper."
"What?"
Tim looked over at his employer, gray eyes dull and dark. "Give me paper and a pencil. My old equipment would be best--unless you lost that?"
"What are you planning on doing?"
"Making myself better. Now, are you going to get me something to write on or should I use my own blood?"
Jason gestured to the nurse. "Get me a notepad and a pen."
"Pencil. I don't write with pens."
The nurse nodded and hurried off while Jason pulled up a chair and sat down. "What are you planning?"
Tim didn't reply, but returned his gaze to the wall.
"Are you planning on revenge?"
"...would you stop me if I was?"
"I guess it depends on who you'd be planning to take revenge on."
"Does it? That's interesting." Tim glanced over at Jason. "What do you plan on doing with me now? Using me against that little bunch of rebels?"
"You've read my notes, you know how serious this is, Tim."
"Yes, it's important that you crush this rebellion before the evil spreads."
"Dammit Tim, if we let them go on like this they'll undermine everything I have worked so hard for. I cannot allow them to do that, and despite my no-kill policy, I will not hesitate to kill any and everyone who attempts to destroy HAPGI."
Tim arched a brow. "And you're planning on using me for that?"
"If you would, then yes."
"Piss off," he growled. "I'm nobody's puppet."
"Are you reneging?" Jason's voice was soft and dangerous, but Tim brushed it off like water off a duck's wing.
"Maybe."
The nurse returned with a pencil and a notepad of unused paper, both of which she handed solemnly to Tim. Without so much as a glance at either her or Jason, he started scribbling on the paper.
"What are you doing?"
Tim ignored him, but Jason knew better than to attempt to snatch the writing utensils away from him. The last person who had tried that had ended up with a pencil through their hand and an extremely annoyed writer.
Finally, he dotted the last period and rolled up his left sleeve. Jason stared.
"Tim, what are you--?"
Tearing off the paper, he slapped it onto his bicep. "I'm healing myself."
"Healing yourself?"
Tim didn't say anything, merely unbuttoned his shirt and showed the older man his chest--the wounds were gone.
"I don't have any time to waste in this hell," he said, eyes narrowed dangerously. "I need to get out, and I don't care what you say."
"Tim!" Jason stood at the same time Tim did, an equal fire in his eyes. "Just where are you going?"
"Chill. I'm just going to my house for a wardrobe change. That is, if you would be so kind as to let me go?"
"You're not going anywhere."
Tim felt his body stiffen as it fell under Jason's power. Glaring, he boldly took a step forward and felt his feet drag. "Don't tell me what to do." Already his pencil was busy writing, and he tore off the paper and put it on his chest, where it stuck like Duct Tape. The instant his feet were loose, he began getting dressed.
Jason sat down again, hard. A year-trained teenager had broken his persuasion, had crushed a talent that years on years had given him. How�
Tim left the room without as much as a single protest from Jason. Exiting the building, he whistled at the scenery--downtown. These folks sure knew how to hide a building. Smirking he headed home. His green beret would be waiting for him on the desk, but it was not that piece of clothing he wanted.
*
"What the hell is he doing?"
Eli, Jason, and Keth stood across the street from the local high school, watching warily. A dark blue car was parked nearby. Tim had systematically written something on each of the pillars around the school entrance, creating a small shield, and without knowing what was written on the pieces of paper creating the shield there was no way to combat whatever the teenager was doing.
"Eli, do you have any idea what he's doing?" Jason asked again, this time slightly more impatient. His brother lowered the binoculars and shook his head, the harsh wind blowing his long hair in his face.
The same wind flared out Tim's new piece of attire; a long black coat belted at the waist.
"We won't know what he's doing until someone walks into that web he's spun." Eli glanced over at his platinum-blonde companion, then at the violin case at his feet. "Is that what I think it is?"
"He has shown himself to be dangerous. If necessary, I will give the order to kill."
"A case of killing the spider to save the butterflies? That's rather drastic," Keth commented dryly.
"He's a rather drastic person," Jason countered, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "And with the faction still active, I think it's best to take care of the smaller problem first, before he turns into something we really don't want to have to deal with."
Eli scowled. "You do realize this is entirely your fault."
"Not now, Eli."
The younger boy opened his mouth to say something, but Jason cut him off. "Shh, there's someone coming."
"The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese," Keth murmured. Eli elbowed him, scowling.
Tim glanced up at the couple walking up the steps. They ignored him and froze upon reaching the top stair. In an almost bored manner, Tim walked them forcibly to the door and positioned the boy behind the girl, whistling video game music as he did so.
"Oh. A barricade of sorts," Jason said softly.
Tim took a few steps back and admired his somewhat sloppy handiwork, then readjusted the two so their backs were to the wall and they faced him. Stepping back again, he nodded to himself and pulled out a red yoyo.
Eli turned away, closing his eyes with a pained expression.
Ziiiip! Went the yoyo. Jason, watching through Eli's binoculars, jerked back and stared as blood spattered the wall.
"...a firing range, then," Jason amended his earlier statement, gesturing at Keth; the case came open and he swiftly assembled the sniper rifle. Overhead, the steel-colored clouds rumbled menacingly to mimic what was going on below.
"You think he whipped up the storm as well?" Keth asked, testing the sights.
"He's certainly dramatic enough," Eli said, keeping his back turned. "If he could figure out how to do it, he would."
The yoyo spun out again, leaving a second body crumpled against the wall. Keth crouched on one knee, steadied his aim, and fired.
The bullet hit Tim in the leg, making his stagger and fall. Jason smiled, but the triumphant feeling faded when the youth stood up again with no sign of ever being hit.
The writer crossed his arms and peered out across the street. Three figures--one was undeniably Keth, no mistaking that shock of pale hair, one was Jason, suit and all, and the last and middle figure--
Tim stared. It couldn't be. That long blonde hair...but their back was turned, so he couldn't tell. Jason must be toying with his head.
Severely annoyed, he stood in the center of the pillars and waited for the three to come to him.
Jason stared. "Didn't that bullet...?"
Keth nodded. "No way could I miss, especially at this distance. He must have put up some kind of a shield."
Jason glanced at his brother. "Eli, go home."
"What?" the younger boy cried out in indignation. "Why should I have to leave?"
"Because I'm going to confront him and I don't want you getting mixed up in this."
"You didn't want me getting involved in what he was doing originally, and look where that plan got you!"
"Not now. Go home." Jason used a drop of his power, which Eli noticed. Scowling, the younger boy turned and stormed off to the waiting car without so much as a last word or a backward glance. Jason watched him go, then gestured for Keth to follow him.
"Get your squad and Sophia's here as soon as humanly possible," he ordered Keth as they headed across the street. "We need to seal the perimeter and make sure that no one else gets hurt."
The sniper shouldered his weapon, nodding, and pulled out a cell phone, making a few calls. "Adrian's bringing over mine, and Sophia's reluctant, but she agreed."
"Good." Jason sighed. "I'd hate to have another one of my interests go astray as badly as Tim has."
"She won't go against you." Keth glanced at his employer in a supposedly reassuring way.
"We'll see." Jason replied grimly as they reached the steps and began to ascend them.
Tim waited patiently at the top, striking an impressive figure with the wind blowing his coat to the side and ruffling his hair.
Jason scowled at the writer's smirk. "I suppose this is what you meant by 'revenge'?"
"But of course." Tim arched his brows in a patronizing manner.
There were three landings in the staircase, and as the pair reached the topmost one, Jason held out a hand, stopping Keth. "Wait here," he murmured, continuing up the stairs alone. Tim stepped back as Jason hovered just outside the line of pillars.
"Well? Aren't you going to come in? It looks like it's going to rain soon."
"Take the spells off and I'll come in."
Tim thought about it for a second before walking to the pillar, getting as close to his former employer as he could without actually leaving his safety zone. "You don't understand."
"I think I understand perfectly."
"No, you don't." The smirk was back, more smug than ever. "I'm a god, Jason. I can do absolutely anything I want to now."
"Like killing innocents?" The man gestured towards the bodies. Tim laughed.
"They're hardly innocents. It was a necessary action--like I suppose shooting me was."
"You're too dangerous." At the bottom of the street, two black vans pulled up and people in uniform got out, surrounding the area quietly and efficiently. A young woman with short black hair glanced upwards at the two males before taking her station and watching for any civilians who might intrude.
Tim spun his yoyo in a lazy circle above his head. "Let's stop this. I'm bored." The yoyo suddenly shot out across the barrier. Jason blocked it with one arm--there was a sickening crack as the toy met his limb. Wincing, the young man cradled his broken arm against his chest and glared at the writer, who stared evenly back.
"I'm not afraid of you. Especially not with what I can do now."
"And what can you do now?"
"Would you like a demonstration?" Tim pulled out the pencil and paper and started jotting on it furiously, stepping back out of reach. "What would you like to see? Meteors? No--I've got something better."
Jason gritted his teeth. If he stepped into the spell zone, he'd be affected, and he couldn't do anything to stop Tim from writing this far away.
He could see the white scraps of paper. One was on a wall by the doors--the only one within reach of the outside. Biting his lip, he turned and caught Keth's eye, then tried to direct his attention to the scrap of paper, to no avail.
Sudden movement from Tim caught his attention a bit too late--the writer had already moved forward and slapped something onto the back of Jason's neck. While his hand was still out of the spell zone, Jason grabbed it and pulled, yanking Tim out of the area and making them both tumble down the steps.
Dropping his gun, Keth jumped down and pinned Tim as Jason staggered to his feet, panting. Glaring at the writer, he felt for the edge of the paper.
"I wouldn't do that," Tim said, looking as arrogant as a person could when pinned to the ground by someone twice their strength.
Jason stepped back and, finally getting his fingers under the edge of the paper, yanked it off. It came off like a Band-Aid that had been on too long, dragging the skin off as it went and leaving a great red weal.
"I've put up with worse than this since before you were born. A piece of paper doesn't hurt."
"Good to see that. Now, how about you let me up and we'll have a proper one-on-one fight?"
Jason shook his head. "I don't trust you enough to think you'd keep your word."
"Have I given my word?" Tim seemed surprised. "I didn't think I had. Besides, even in boss fights there are certain rules."
"The boss doesn't always follow them," Jason countered. "Don't use that logic on me--I've played my fair share of video games."
Tim grinned darkly and shoved Keth off, sliding to the side and getting up in a single smooth motion. "Good. Then I don't have to pretend like I'm playing by your rules anymore."
In the act of moving he had gotten a second yoyo from an unseen pocket and now had one in each hand; they went up and down alternately.
"What are you planning?" Jason asked, taking another step back.
A third yoyo joined the others. "Oh please. I know better than to monologue like a classic villain."
"Do you consider yourself a villain?"
"You do." A fourth yoyo appeared, making it two on each hand. "Of course, it would probably be more politically correct to call me an antagonist."
Behind him, Keth pulled out a knife, ready to leap in and protect Jason at the slightest signal.
"It doesn't matter what I call you. You're going to hurt more people unless I put a stop to it."
"Unless you kill me."
"Or otherwise incapacitate you, yes."
Two more yoyos materialized in his hands. "Then let's see if you can do that." In a second, the six toys had become a whirling crimson maelstrom.
"Okay, now you know I have to ask how the hell you're doing that," Jason said, taking a couple more steps back.
Tim smirked and advanced, keeping the yoyos spinning around him at such violent speed that there was no way anything could get past them.
"I respect you, y'know. You're an equal both intellectually and power-wise--only two or three other people have managed that, ever. But if I have to fight you, then I will."
"Good to know we're on the same ground."
Jason dimly heard the sound of squealing tires. At the bottom of the steps, a sleek dark blue car screeched to a halt and the driver raced out, leaving the door open in their rush to get up the stairs. The woman with the black hair let them past, then walked over and silently closed the car door before resuming her post.
Tim stepped forward and Jason stepped back to keep the distance between them a safe one. Another step and he felt the wall at his back. Tim smirked evilly and moved in for the kill--Jason leapt off to one side and the yoyos clacked off the wall where he had been pinned.
"You can't keep jumping about forever!" Tim called. "I'll bet that arm's killing you."
"Tim!"
He jerked around and fired off a yoyo, the rest slowing in their dance until they zipped back into his hands.
Eli dodged, letting the weapon-toy zip past. "Hey! Do you have any idea how hard it is running up stairs in a dress without people throwing things at me?"
Jason groaned. Eli was wearing a long pink dress with a red jacket, a pink bow pulling his hair back, the entire outfit standing out like a flower in the concrete battleground.
Tim stared. "...Eli...?"
"I thought it would be appropriate," the blonde murmured, readjusting the dress.
The writer shook his head slowly in disbelief. "You're dead."
"I'm not dead. Jason only told you that in order to keep me safe."
"Actually, I didn't tell him anything," Jason retorted. "I merely paused dramatically at the right places."
"Shut up!" Tim turned to face Jason.
"Stop it, Tim." Eli caught his wrist and moved in front of him. "It's over."
Tim swayed, looking over his friend's shoulder at his opponent. "No." Jason stepped back, Keth moving in front of him.
"It's over, Tim," Eli repeated. "Please look at me. There's no need to fight anymore."
Tim looked at him again, meeting his eyes for the first time. Slowly, Eli saw the thunderstorm move out of his eyes, leaving them a clear gray.
"Eli?" His voice trembled. When Eli nodded, he stepped closer, then drew his friend into a hug.
Jason felt something on the back of his hand. Blinking, he looked up at the sky at it began to rain, first gently, then harder until everyone out in it was drenched.
"Bloody writers," he mumbled, gesturing for the people standing by to clean everything up. They moved silently past the two boys sitting on the ground, crying.
