by P. S. Power
Double fuck.
The hard thing of course, Rachel explained quickly, being that while they had to stop Alpha, doing that didn't fix the world. Each day that passed brought them all closer to the war between the Infected and the normals and no one could win that.
“There are a lot more of them than us, true, but...” The hot woman said sighing a bit. She stopped talking, so Penny, back in the dining room now, finished the thought.
“Um, but the truth is the military can't beat the Infected. Not if the Infected band together at all. They know it on some level, but the politicians don't really seem to get it. Not those in Hooper's camp at any rate. So all we can do right now is try to keep things calm, even as we face greater and greater attack.”
Well, yay, Den thought, what a wonderful way to do things. It made wonderful and perfect sense. Of course, he didn't have a better plan to offer either. Keeping the peace wouldn't be enough, but what else could they do really?
He kept his mouth shut. It wasn't the fault of anyone at the table here after all. Taking his fear and anger out on them wouldn't be fair. Taking a deep breath he tried to relax and go Zen. The conversation went on around him, and the information got absorbed, but no one asked anything of him in particular until the end.
Then Marcia spoke to him directly.
“Right, so for now that means that the riot squad has to make everything work and keep working and that we can't count on anyone in the world to help us. Maybe not even the other people in the IPB. That means we need you on board Den. If we don't have you we might as well kiss keeping the masses contained goodbye.” Her tone held entreating sounds, her eyes looked nearly scared, not a common thing for her at all.
Denis paused for about ten seconds, thinking, as everyone else stared, looking more anxious with each passing moment.
“What? Yeah, of course I'm in.” He smiled. “I just figured everyone knew that already. I'll do my part if I can.” Did the jerks think he'd just walk off and leave them to face the whole world alone?
Yeah, of course they did.
Morons.
He could leave maybe, go get a job or even live on the streets again. But he couldn't just leave people to face monsters alone. These may not be his friends, but they were still all the people he had. His kind, if there was such a thing. Family. It was a freaky thought, but it didn't seem wrong. He'd already abandoned one family to a monster. It wouldn't happen twice.
Brian smiled at him.
“Good. We need all the help we can get now.”
Then, as if they'd accomplished something, the whole thing broke up and everyone just left. Everyone except Marcia, Brian and Denis. Both of the others looked at him, then each other, then back again. No one spoke, so finally he did.
“So, is this when I learn the secret club handshake? Or I get my super-special Dick Tracy decoder ring?” He'd always wanted one of those, of course. After a few seconds his hopes were dashed, yet again.
The short haired brunette shook her head and chuckled.
“No such luck. Just wanted to say good job on subduing those police earlier.” She got up and patted him on the back and actually said “Atta-boy” when she did. For a second anger flared at the words, then got stuffed down. Just a joke. Playfully teasing like someone might do with a friend.
Yi leaned back.
“Yeah, between that and the airplane thing I have to say I'm feeling pretty proud to have you on the team. Marcia told me how you put the only parachute on Karen without even blinking, even knowing that you'd probably die if you did, that it was your idea too and how you just told everyone that was what was going to be happening. That took guts. Leadership. Thank you.” He sounded grateful which was a little uncomfortable.
Denis had to just shrug. After all it wasn't some big deal. Karen had the best chance of making it down with the chute alive. All gymnasticy and shit. Light too. It all worked out. Plus, she really had to survive, didn't she? Oh sure, he woke up three times a night screaming, thinking he was about to smack into the ground, but other than that, he assured Brian, not a problem at all. Denis did manage to add a wide eyed chuckle to it, so it seemed real enough.
He did mean it.
Brian nodded, “I know how the dreams can be.”
“Yeah, I bet that's true.” Den said softly, thinking about what the man must have seen already, in just the last few months.
Proxy looked up and to the left, his face going dark. Dangerous. For a second Denis wondered if the guy was about to beat him up for what he'd said, even though it hadn't seemed bad in any way. Instead he jumped up fast and hard then ran out into the hall, top speed. At the door he... vanished.
Right, his power to go and fight for someone else. The guy didn't even have another ability. Just a regular guy like he was physically. It had to be the most screwed up power ever. He mentioned this out loud to Quartz who stared at the door as if willing Yi back into the room.
“No shit. Some of the stuff he's had to fight too... Sixty-three class fives at once one time and Tesseract, you heard about that?” She didn't look at the man with her, not at all.
“Yeah, Lancaster mentioned that. Not the class fives...”
“Trapped in a Canadian lake for a week treading water surrounded the whole time, by these... creatures, then he finally managed to drown them all, one by one. Thank God they didn't have the ability to hold their breath. We call it the Canadian incident now. A little girl, Melanie Miller, was turning people into zombie-werewolf things. Not bright creatures, but strong and tough as all get out. Canada finally had to hit her and an army of them that were trying to eat her with ten fuel air bombs. Bigger explosion overall than a small nuke. She was eleven and had no control over it.”
“Fuck. That's what Hooper used to...”
“To screw us all into war, yeah. Dumb-ass. His people have vilified her in the press, but in the end she begged the Canadians to drop the bombs, to kill her, because she didn't want anyone else to be hurt. Someone like her is worth ten Hoopers and those creeps of his keep badmouthing her like she was evil or something.”
Marcia went on for a while, covering how every few days Brian fought someone, or several someones at once, about half the time Infected and about one in ten so powerful that he really should be losing, if they were going to be honest. Technically he had a class two ability, at least as far as all the testing had shown. A regular guy with a knife and some training, only boosted to that high a power class because of the element of surprise. Just like Denis had thought.
“But he keeps coming back. He spends a lot of time in medical, though his new armor helps a lot there. Every time he leaves we all wonder if we'll ever see him again...”
They did this time, almost as if he heard them talking about him and timed the entrance. Denis gave a little wave and tilted his head. Brian had blood on him, a lot of it, but seemed unharmed. It wasn't his, he assured them, not even waiting to be asked.
“Three guys trying to rape another one to death in prison. I need to go have the Director call that in so the guy I saved doesn't get blamed for it. I killed the attackers. I made the last one tell me the name of the prison first. It's his blood.”
It came out... cold.
Like all emotion had gone out of the guy. Marcia nodded and went with him for some reason, worried it seemed.
Denis just sat and waited until nearly nine, then went and sat in his room with the door open, since someone should be around to give him a shot of something. That someone turned out to be a mildly plump cutie that wasn't even as tall as he was and had a medical bag filled with enough drugs to keep a junkie happy for weeks. Or days, depending on how fast they dove into an overdose.
“Hi! Denis? I'm Doctor Sara. Mind if I have a look at your arm then stick needles in you?” Her voice held good humor at least.
Denis sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to check him out. It hurt a little, since she needed to take the splint off to check for swelling and give him three more shots in
the arm. Then he got some Band-Aids with little smiley faces, even though he didn't need them, which was cool, and a single tablet to help him sleep. He took it, because it was free mainly, not because he needed it.
For all that work, sleep didn't stick around too long, tossing and turning he just felt uncomfortable all night. It probably explained why Den felt so grumpy when he got up. No pounding at the door at least, four-thirty or not, so he showered carefully with the splint off, then dressed in team three sweats and headed to the restaurant on one. At least he thought it was the day of the shoot. He might be wrong there, because so much had been happening lately. Not that he needed to show for work, since Prime had his old job now, but still, moral support and propping Kerry up if needed on the air. The hostess took him to a table off to the side, one with more than enough space for everyone if they showed up and got him a pot of coffee and cups for everyone, just in case he wasn't a moron.
He was.
Sort of at least. Right day but, as Warren informed him as he came and sat next to him, wrong time by a lot. They didn't have to meet until noon for show prep. Oops. Well, no one had told him about that, not that it would matter.
“So... why are you here this early then? Trying to pick up that cute hostess? I can't blame you there, if I thought she'd go for it, I'd try myself.” The tone Denis used was light, but Warren shuddered.
“God no. Nothing against Darla, she's a sweetie, but... eww, women.” The man shuddered convincingly enough that it didn't seem to be a total act.
Ah. Gay. Well then.
Taking a breath, Denis smiled. Cool enough. Wasn't like the guy had been trying to pick him up or anything.
“Alright then... trying to pick up a cute waiter?”
“Nope. I work here. Head chef don't you know. How else do you think I'd rate being on television? Luckily Mark likes the idea of not everyone on board being Infected and so does Director Moore. Works for me at least. It's hard to get your own cooking show, but just being on one can basically make a chef's career.”
It all fit. Why Warren was second in command for the show and all that too. He actually had skills. The two men could have carried the show on their own he realized, one Denis Tompkins wasn't needed at all. Prime could make cocoa for them all and it would probably work just as well or better. Good enough. Still, he was signed on. That meant showing up and cheering for the team if nothing else. Get the crew water and stuff. He'd just borrow a rolling cart from the restaurant.
Den mentioned this to Warren who didn't say anything, just waved over a friendly looking heavyset woman and waved to the man across the table making introductions.
“Jan, Denis. Vice versa and all that.” This got done with a smile and some gesturing back and forth.
“He's got an order for this afternoon. Denis? Jan will get you what you need. Brilliant woman, so pick her brain a bit. Right now I need to get back to work, since the morning rush is about to begin.” The man patted Jan on the back and gave her his seat.
“Later Den.”
Jan, it turned out, really was brilliant, her idea in setting up for the show took two rolling carts and sounded like enough food to feed a small army. She promised it wasn't really that much. Incredible though. All he had to do was come get it at about two. The woman hopped up efficiently and then winked.
“Now get out of here before the morning crowd gets in. All the team one people will whine if they see you coming to breakfast not dressed properly, because they have to “be presentable” all the time, which is a pain for them, then Charlot Chambers will come and yell at Warren, who will spend the rest of the day sniping at us, even though we can't do anything about it. You see how that works?”
“I do. Here...” Denis downed the rest of his black coffee and stood.
“Um, in case I don't see you later... thanks. This really means a lot, you bothering to help me like this.”
This got waved away, “ha, good, you'd be surprised how few people actually thank us here. But leave now... I'll have everything ready for you later. No worries.”
Feeling peppy from caffeine and happier than he thought he'd be for a while, Denis decided to take the stairs back to his room. He had six hours to kill now and at least an hour before breakfast. The exercise, he figured would do him good, even if it was all walking down instead of up. Maybe he could hit the gym too? Walk some laps on the track, even though he wasn't up to jogging yet? Making his way down the stairs was less than fun, the pain meds had started to wear off it seemed, but then, so had the worst of the pain. It kind of evened out. That just meant walking very slow and carefully, one step at a time. No big.
Or at least it wasn't until he saw the couple clearly having sex against the wall at the fifth floor landing. Denis froze and started to back away, taking a slow step back, not getting who it was really. Clark and...
At first Denis kind of hoped the vigorously bouncing red-headed woman was Rachel or even Karen, but it wasn't, no matter how much he tried to force his mind to believe that. It was Bridget. Little tiny, very, very young looking Bridget Chambers.
Fuck.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
8
His first thought involved running up and beating the hell out of Clark. Prime had busted his arm up though, so that would be out. Plus, skinny or not, the guy was huge. Nearly a foot taller than Denis. Instead he put them both to sleep. They just stopped what they were doing and laid down on the floor, barely twitching at all. Their clothes were still half undone, and the whole thing just left Denis with a disaster.
God it was a mess.
Not having a single clue as to what was needed, he decided to cheat and walked over to the level five door, keeping it behind him so he never lost visual contact with the two on the floor and started to pound on it. With his right hand.
Bad plan he decided, nearly going to his knees.
Very fucking bad move.
After he recovered, barely keeping the two asleep for nearly two minutes, Denis kicked the door with his heel instead, which worked a lot better, not trying to rouse the whole floor, just get a little help. What he got was Tobin, thank God, and the giant armored woman. Level.
The voice that came out of her sounded sweet at first. Like a young woman that taught Sunday school instead of a human wrecking machine. That had to weird some people out in a fight, Denis decided. Something that big should growl at you, not sound like she was about to offer you a cookie.
“Is everything alright? We heard the knocking and people normally just walk in if they want something...” Then she saw them.
“Bridgie? What happened, are they alright? Why is their clothing like that...”
Tobin snorted.
“Den's making them sleep. You get the clothes Lauren. You've seen porn on the internet at least, if nothing else. Plus you were all normal before you changed, so you probably even had dates and stuff. Not like me. I turned when I was two...” The tiny man sounded.... nearly as ticked and sick as Denis felt to tell the truth.
“Right, so Lauren, as a girl, would you be able to fix Bridget's clothes for her? I'll try to narrow the field here so it won't put you to sleep too.”
It took time to get that right, about five minutes then Tobin did the honors for Clark in about half the time with an incredibly small level of concern for the stork like man's dignity or health. Freaking moron that Ichabod was. If he just wanted sex Peggy probably would have done him. Or half the women on team two. Hell, there had to be hookers in town, didn't there? The guy didn't look that bad, just a bit geeky. He could have probably even picked up a woman in a bar, or at least just gone with that internet porn Tobin had mentioned. He had a lot of options. Which meant that screwing Bridget was just... sick on his part.
Without moving or indicating that anything at all might be happening, the giant brown and black armor spoke, sounding worried and angry. Denis got that big time. Especially since Bridget didn't seem like her biggest fan at the moment.
“What d
o we do? I...”
Denis took a breath, after all how the hell should he know? Then again, when in doubt, pass the buck.
“Level, we need you to get out of here I think. This shouldn't end up as a fight, but... yeah, if it does you can't fight against Bridget right now. Tobin, if you could get Clark and Bridget's team leaders and we'll let them deal with this I guess. Oh, Marcia too. She's one of Clark's team leaders now. I'll just hold them napping until everyone gets here. That seem a plan?”
Level, Lauren, he remembered, called out that she'd get Sparks, the team two leader and Tobin took a deep breath, then another. Then he ran up the stairs faster than Denis would have been able to go down them. Marcia and Sparks got there first, running, but only by about a minute. Then, dressed in a nice suit and shaved as if he'd started his day already, came the team one leader Torque. Rob, Denis had heard him called. Following him were Prime and Charlot Chambers as well. They both looked sleepy still at least.
Looking at the situation Denis wondered if Clark would make it out of the stairwell alive. He also kind of wondered if he should.
They all started talking at once. Loudly. Thank God he'd already had his coffee. This would have been one of those times that a good loud whistle would have really fit nicely. Denis didn't know how though, well, he could do simple tunes and all that, but not that ear shattering kind of thing that some people could manage. So he just stood and watched the sleeping couple. Waiting for someone to call everyone else to order. It turned out to be Rob, who could do that high pitched loud whistle thing using his fingers. Denis really wanted to be able to do that too.
Everyone got quiet then, so Denis quietly explained what had happened. That was all. He'd seen it and no one, oddly enough, doubted him. He'd have looked at him suspiciously given everything. Some guy happens to be holding two half naked people in a sleep state in a hallway? Yeah, that sounded normal. Rob, the team one guy looked at him and asked, very politely, if he could release Bridget for a moment.