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Title: Not Coming for the Kill
Characters: primarily Angel and Iceman, others
Warning: This one hurts. Not set in continuity -- I guess I just needed to write someone hurting at the time.
In the end, it was Warren who found him. Others might have said the cell was perfectly dark, but Warren's inhumanly sharp eyes saw something, somehow -- though he never could afterwards say what. Perhaps it was instinct.
The door was reinforced, but it had been meant to keep people in, not out. Warren took it off at the hinges. There were no light switches, no light bulbs, so he turned on the penlight he carried and shone it directly at the corner where Bobby was half-curled on his side. He was collared and shackled with the cruel power-blocking technology his captors used, and even just the shaky light Warren cast on him revealed enough damage that Warren fell to his knees beside him.
"Bobby! Bobby!" he murmured, trying to gently wrap him in his arms. At the same time, he felt for the telepathic link connecting the searchers, sent out the call that Bobby had been found and help was needed.
"No, g'way," Bobby protested weakly, his efforts to push Warren away just as feeble.
"Bobby, it's me! It's Warren!"
"Oh yeah? Prove it," was the slurred response. Half his face was swollen with bruises, and suddenly Warren realized that the way Bobby was holding himself meant the rest of his body was as bad, or worse.
He curved his wings up protectively, a reflex, but the knowledge that he could do nothing to shelter his battered friend from the things that had happened in the five-and-a-half weeks it took to find him weighed on Warren. He bowed his head until their foreheads nearly touched, and his tears fell onto Bobby's cheeks.
"God, Bobby, what did they do to you?" he whispered.
He received telepathically-relayed orders not to move Bobby until Kitty could check his bonds for booby-traps, and replied that nobody was moving Bobby without a stretcher.
"We'll get you out of here in a few minutes, Bobby," Warren swore, checking his friend over with light and careful touches.
"'ve heard 'at one b'fore," Bobby muttered wearily.
Kurt brought Kitty. Warren heard and smelled their arrival, and, recognizing it, didn't turn around. He blocked them with his wings for a moment, to finish his examination in what privacy he could, committing to memory every broken bone, every cut and bruise that he could find, so he could tell Hank as soon as they got Bobby to him. And so he could pile higher the stack of reasons for putting an end to the bastards who did this.
But they had to get Bobby out of here first, so he grudgingly moved to one side, absorbing the soft sounds of their reactions as he uselessly swiped a hand over his face.
Somehow, Kitty got the entire restraint rig off all at once -- he didn't see how -- and handed it off immediately to Kurt, who teleported away. Even the small, automatic movement his newfound freedom allowed him caused Bobby to hiss in pain -- but he didn't turn to ice, despite the removal of the inhibitors. It was a bad sign. Warren bent over him again, looking for a way to ease things.
There was a distant, muffled explosion.
"Kurt!" Kitty gasped in horror, but the name was barely out of her mouth when the teleporter was back. He laid a hand each on Bobby and Warren and took them both directly to the Blackbird.
"You're out," Warren told Bobby. "We got you. And I will be right here for as long as it takes for you to realize it's true."
"I guess that makes you my nurse," Hank said behind him, a catch in his voice. Warren nodded, and they began the business of putting Bobby together, while the compound below bloomed with its own self-destruction.
.
Characters: primarily Angel and Iceman, others
Warning: This one hurts. Not set in continuity -- I guess I just needed to write someone hurting at the time.
In the end, it was Warren who found him. Others might have said the cell was perfectly dark, but Warren's inhumanly sharp eyes saw something, somehow -- though he never could afterwards say what. Perhaps it was instinct.
The door was reinforced, but it had been meant to keep people in, not out. Warren took it off at the hinges. There were no light switches, no light bulbs, so he turned on the penlight he carried and shone it directly at the corner where Bobby was half-curled on his side. He was collared and shackled with the cruel power-blocking technology his captors used, and even just the shaky light Warren cast on him revealed enough damage that Warren fell to his knees beside him.
"Bobby! Bobby!" he murmured, trying to gently wrap him in his arms. At the same time, he felt for the telepathic link connecting the searchers, sent out the call that Bobby had been found and help was needed.
"No, g'way," Bobby protested weakly, his efforts to push Warren away just as feeble.
"Bobby, it's me! It's Warren!"
"Oh yeah? Prove it," was the slurred response. Half his face was swollen with bruises, and suddenly Warren realized that the way Bobby was holding himself meant the rest of his body was as bad, or worse.
He curved his wings up protectively, a reflex, but the knowledge that he could do nothing to shelter his battered friend from the things that had happened in the five-and-a-half weeks it took to find him weighed on Warren. He bowed his head until their foreheads nearly touched, and his tears fell onto Bobby's cheeks.
"God, Bobby, what did they do to you?" he whispered.
He received telepathically-relayed orders not to move Bobby until Kitty could check his bonds for booby-traps, and replied that nobody was moving Bobby without a stretcher.
"We'll get you out of here in a few minutes, Bobby," Warren swore, checking his friend over with light and careful touches.
"'ve heard 'at one b'fore," Bobby muttered wearily.
Kurt brought Kitty. Warren heard and smelled their arrival, and, recognizing it, didn't turn around. He blocked them with his wings for a moment, to finish his examination in what privacy he could, committing to memory every broken bone, every cut and bruise that he could find, so he could tell Hank as soon as they got Bobby to him. And so he could pile higher the stack of reasons for putting an end to the bastards who did this.
But they had to get Bobby out of here first, so he grudgingly moved to one side, absorbing the soft sounds of their reactions as he uselessly swiped a hand over his face.
Somehow, Kitty got the entire restraint rig off all at once -- he didn't see how -- and handed it off immediately to Kurt, who teleported away. Even the small, automatic movement his newfound freedom allowed him caused Bobby to hiss in pain -- but he didn't turn to ice, despite the removal of the inhibitors. It was a bad sign. Warren bent over him again, looking for a way to ease things.
There was a distant, muffled explosion.
"Kurt!" Kitty gasped in horror, but the name was barely out of her mouth when the teleporter was back. He laid a hand each on Bobby and Warren and took them both directly to the Blackbird.
"You're out," Warren told Bobby. "We got you. And I will be right here for as long as it takes for you to realize it's true."
"I guess that makes you my nurse," Hank said behind him, a catch in his voice. Warren nodded, and they began the business of putting Bobby together, while the compound below bloomed with its own self-destruction.
.