unrecovered: (Recovery One)
Agent Washington ([personal profile] unrecovered) wrote in [community profile] hfm_logs2015-08-20 07:10 pm

And I Ran [Closed]

Warnings: Violence! Also probably swearing.
Location: Near the warehouses
Characters: Wash, Greg, Casey, and Bones
When: About a week after Bones reemerges from the subways
Summary: The usual morning jog turns into a Nox fight, because literally everyone in this group has terrible luck.

There was something to be said for routine, especially when the rest of your life made a point of being in a constant state of upheaval. Even though Greg had moved out, and Bones had recently come from a month-long bout in the subways, Wash made sure that the morning jog still happened every day, like clockwork. It meant that, for an hour every morning, he could go as hard as he wanted, enough to get the day started and the cobwebs shaken from his brain and to let him feel like he still had some semblance of control over his situation; it also meant that he could share his cooldown with someone (though it was a full workout for Greg; he had to remind himself of that sometimes).

For the past few days, Bones and Casey had taken to joining them. They kept up, and it was good to have them around; Wash wasn't going to complain.

"Another mile or so and we'll call it good."
oldfashionedfutureboy: (Thousand yard stare)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-21 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
Back home in savannah he'd take a walk every morning that he could. It didn't do to be a town doctor and not be fit. Then the Academy had their goddamn hellish fitness regime to stick to and when on a ship? Well. Sometimes jogg'n was the one thing that made the Enterprise feel a little like home. The apartment got so damn quiet when everyone was out- before he got lost? It didn't bother him.

Now? Now he chugged along, hanging back with Greg to offer encouragement- it's not easy on him, he can see that. but he's doing it anyway, working hard and that? That's more effort than he'd ever seen in half the idjits he had to work with in Georgia. "Hold up Wash."

Bones slows to a stop alongside Greg- he'd been adamant about giving the man a chance to drink, walk, or just breathe. FItness is well and good but not when the chase kills a man.
oldfashionedfutureboy: (What the hell man?)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-21 05:44 am (UTC)(link)
Rifts didn't really have a sound to them, Bones learned after that fateful day in the carnival. No. But they had a weight to them. Something that rippled through the air on a subatomic level that hit him like the shearing vibrations of the Enterprise collapsing. The visceral, bone deep terror of that moment was quite appropriate given what usually poured out of them.

He didn't look. He didn't NEED to look, the shock on Wash's face told him everything he needed to know.

Last time he was told to run he stayed and shit got way too uncomfortable. Now? He does just as he's damn well told, putting his shoulder to Greg's abdomen- the man was exhausted they couldn't expect him to run and like hell he was gonna sprint without knowing he and the kid were on the way with him- and lifted.

Oh his back would hate him later but for the ten, fifteen, thirty feet he'd need to get them out of the goddamn way? It would hold. It was a solid fireman's carry and he started running as soon as he had Greg secure with a grunted "Beg pardon."

Casey didn't get that same luxury. He reached out with his will, an invisible band around his middle, and hauled ass. Didn't pull the kid along behind him so much as it lifted him up, bobbing behind him and Greg as he sprinted like a spindly little balloon.
panspermia: (No shame in bailing)

[personal profile] panspermia 2015-08-21 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
What little luck Greg had to his name had allowed him from ever being around a rift before. In fact, he'd only ever been in close proximity to a Nox the one time at the carnival, more than enough to keep him from wanting to do it ever again. Today, however, his luck had finally run out.

Greg did look, as that heavy sensation of dread reached through the air to them. His face, flushed from exertion, lost its color. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this on a good day, and he certainly couldn't handle it now, down to his last dregs of energy. He'd barely made it out of his last encounter, and there were already so many--

Suddenly, there was a pressure, and his feet were out from under him, and he was moving. For a dreadful second, Greg thought something much nastier had him, before all the pieces came together. "Ahgh--s-sorr...thanks--"

Then, he went even tenser in Leonard's hold, craning his neck back to see. "Wait, Wash!"
jonesiseverywhere: ([69])

[personal profile] jonesiseverywhere 2015-08-21 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
Don't go anywhere without your hockey sticks. Fine, stupid city. Message received. But Casey would fight these things with his bare hands if he had to. He only had a few seconds to process things: Greg was down from his workout, Bones was helping him up, so it'd just be himself and Wash left to fight.

That's fine.

He's faced worse odds.

Offensive stance, crouch, lunge forward and CHARGE aaaaaaand be lifted off the ground and yanked backwards and what the heck-

"AUGH, are you kidding me?!" he shouted, mostly to Bones but also to the whole entire universe for letting him be in this position. He was off the ground because of Bones's LAME telekinesis and was being yanked behind like a DUMB kite, or a SUCKY wooden duck toy pulled by a STUPID-

Greg's shout refocused him. Oh man...

"We can't bail on him!" He was kicking and struggling like a fish on a line. It seemed wrong, Casey Jones running out on a friend, so wrong it was like he was seeing out of another person's eyes, someone totally foreign to Casey who would watch a friend about to get swarmed and ripped apart and run away from and not towards him.
oldfashionedfutureboy: (Weight of the world)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-21 07:44 am (UTC)(link)
What about Wash? Wash should be running. He didn't have his armor, he didn't have his gun, no one had any clue as to what kinda magic he had- if he had magic, and he was a soldier. Soldiers knew when to stand and when to fall back-

Didn't they? He couldn't spare a look over his shoulder but the yell'n from Greg and the frustrated struggling of Casey told him that no. Wash was not, in fact, doing the rational, reasonable, MILITANT thing and fall'n back. He was hold'n the line to what? Buy time? He was in goddamn JOGGING SHOES for christ's sake! What the hell was he gonna do to the Nox, bullrush 'em? Stupid self sacrificial blondes that kept mak'n his life hell. Stupid kids that kept strugg'n against his grip and mak'n him slip. Stupid goddamn Nox that screamed in the back of his head and made it hard to focus.

Get gone. Get 'em home. Get 'em safe.

It'd be simpler if his lizard brain wasn't screaming bloody, terrified murder. He hadn't tried this kind of sprint while carr'n another body in well over a year. He sure as hell never tried it while also keep'n a struggl'n body safely away from the fight with the power of his MIND. Somth'n had to give.

Unfortunately, it was his knee. Or ankle. Or something. Something slid and something went sideways and maybe he didn't keep his legs as straight as he should- but a good fifteen, twenty feet away from the fight he lost hold of Casey- but had enough sense to simply let go instead of accidentally flig'n the kid into the pavement. He and Greg didn't get that luxury. He tried us'n his will to catch him but it only really softened the blow on Greg, he twisted and landed hard on his side. No heads cracked, no limbs busted- just. Exhausted and terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.
panspermia: (Running out of family members)

[personal profile] panspermia 2015-08-21 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
For as long as Greg could remember, there was one simple tactic for dealing with monsters: run away, and let someone more capable handle it. It wasn't shameful, it wasn't cowardly. It was logic, plain and simple. People who had magic would take care of it, and those without needed to keep themselves safe and out of the way. You had to know your limits.

He'd been acting on that instinct, the knowledge that this was not his wheelhouse, he was in no place to handle this, he had to get out of here and get out of the way. Craning to look around Leonard, though, something twisted, something deeply mortified.

He had magic, and Wash didn't. It was his duty to make sure Wash was safe, one way or another, but Wash was the one back there, brawling with those things, defenseless and determined, while Greg was getting hoisted off to safety. Wash took a hit, and Greg felt it like an impact on his own body. Wash went down, and Greg felt it like a knife. Wash, who had died once already. Wash, who had come to Greg for help after dying. Wash, who he'd asked not to face things alone. Greg had one responsibility, and he was leaving him behind.

"Leonard, we have t--"

The words were lost, along with his train of thought and orientation, as he was suddenly tumbled across the pavement. Leonard may have done his best to soften the hit, but Greg had a lot of mass to hit the ground, and it didn't hit well. A whole new set of pains burst out from the asphalt to join the aches from running, leaving him sprawled and groaning in the street.

With Wash down, the Nox were already stampeding past, all too ready to tear into the fallen trio. It was like wounded prey, out there for them to take. Darkness was coming. He had to find his magic, find his feet, find his courage. None of them came to him. He was too lost.
jonesiseverywhere: ([58])

[personal profile] jonesiseverywhere 2015-08-21 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)
It wasn't enough. He was trying but it just wasn't enough. If Casey could just get some fireballs going he could catch a few of the Nox right between the eyes and buy enough time for Wash to get out of there. But the small wreath of fire surrounding his left hand maybe was enough to roast a hot dog, not enough to save a friend.

But he'd jump in to burn those things with it if Bones would just put him down-

Suddenly Bones's grip failed. The sensation went from floating to falling with no warning and Casey couldn't correct his footing. He skidded backwards on his heel for a single moment, tried to run backwards a few paces and then stumbled. He landed backwards on top of Bones and Greg, disoriented enough to lose his flame.

Not quite quick enough to get it back before a Nox was on top of him. His hands darted out to grab the thing's hooked jaws before it could bite his head off, but the heat in his hands wasn't rebuilding fast enough and the Nox was just too strong for Casey to do anything but slow it. There were more almost on top of them.

He wasn't afraid, he kept telling himself. His friends needed help. Being afraid would just make getting the fire back that much harder. He wasn't afraid. His fire wasn't coming back and dammit he wasn't afraid!
Edited 2015-08-21 13:54 (UTC)
oldfashionedfutureboy: (I didn't need to see that Jim)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-21 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Move. Move, move, he needed to get up and move- to cover the kid, to cover Greg, to get back to Wash who didn't RUN like he was supposed to, to stop this but he was a doctor, dammit, not a miracle worker and this wasn't something he could stop. Not when he was bruised and dazed and winded, not when all he could do was get his elbows under him just in time to see the first Nox bowl over Casey and the rest run for them.

He got a hand out. Tried to push but that cool, clean focus he needed just- wasn't there. All he could see was black, all he could hear were whispers and the subaudible whine of a ship breaking herself apart around him.

All he could hear was Marcus' voice and Khan's vicious chuckle.

Locked up like this he took the first blow right in the chest, a claw raking along his hand and wrist and this was it, he was done because he wasn't fucking good enough-

Then the air around them bellowed like an animal, a sharp crack of power that popped his ears and shredded the Nox on top of him. Shredded the next few sprinting for them, that cleared a path to Wash.

"...what the hell-"
panspermia: (This kid's gonna kill me)

[personal profile] panspermia 2015-08-22 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
Greg let out another sharp moan as he was hit with a teenager seemingly made entirely out of elbows. Other noises got caught on top of each other, tangling in his throat, as claws dug into his leg and teeth began gnashing all around him.

Well, he'd gotten his wish. Wash wasn't left alone. Casey, Leonard, all four of them were here to get themselves ripped apart, together. All of them out here because they had been looking out for Greg, trying to help him get stronger. Look how that had paid off. He curled up and kicked out, with what little he could muster. They were too far away from any plantlife for him to be any help, but there had to be something he could do aside from getting ripped to shreds--

There was a great burst of wind, so sharp and powerful it blew away everything else that was sharp and powerful, practically enough to send Greg skidding down the street again. Breath literally torn away, it took him a few seconds to lift his head, mouth agape and ears ringing.

"Is--did--uh. We're not... dead."
jonesiseverywhere: ([4] You been drinking brew for breakfast)

[personal profile] jonesiseverywhere 2015-08-22 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
For Casey the world had narrowed to snapping jaws and the roar of angry blood in his ears and arms unable to stay stiff enough.

And then the world went ka-CRACK, a sound that cut straight though to his brain.

And then it went WOOMPH as the air in his lungs was forced out by what felt like all the air in the world hitting him at once.

Casey's hands were yanked upwards by the Nox getting the exact same treatment, wrenching the monster out of his hands and up into the air, shredding it in the process. He watched, wide-eyed and completely baffled. He had been so close to death and suddenly the whole situation rearranged itself so he wasn't.

He stays there on the ground, breathing hard. But as his breath comes back, it gets faster as opposed to evening out. The adrenaline rush that came every time he survived a deadly situation was kicking in, and he makes the attempt to clamor to his feet, stumbling off the pile.

"That was so cool!" What it was, he didn't know, but it was cool!
oldfashionedfutureboy: (ACTION MCCOY AWAY)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-22 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
"No, no we ain't." He mumbled, stumbling to his feet. Up. They needed to get up and get away- coupla Nox were still wandering around and that wouldn't do. Now that they weren't being swarmed, now that he could breathe he could come down from that terrified high, snap out his focus, and shove.

It gave them a little breathing room while he leaned down to help Casey and Greg back up. "Everyone whole and accounted fo-"

His head snapped up at Wash's voice for the second goddamn time in as many minuets and, well, shit. Mother fucker. Rift. Rift, rift- alright, rift. Wash down. Breathing, but down, and there was an uncomfortable pain in his arm and shoulder but right now they needed to get that damn rift closed. From this distance he couldn't do much of anything, but that didn't keep him from starting back the way he came, shoving aside any Nox that stumbled into his path.
panspermia: (Almost waffled you)

[personal profile] panspermia 2015-08-22 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
For a few seconds, things were moving in slow motion, sluggish and disjointed. At least, it felt that way inside Greg's head, brain scrambling for purchase against stimuli from every possible direction. He was still trying to process how they weren't dead. Then, more things were happening, and everything rushed back to proper speed around him. Adrenaline was pumping through and blocking out the pain, enough for him to push himself onto shaky knees and process the important details.

Wash was down. He was alive, he was okay, but he was still closest to--to the rift. Greg grit his teeth. They were still counting him out of this fight. It made sense. He was tired, and weak. He could barely stand. His magic was, overall, pretty useless.

Greg hunched over the pavement, hands flat to the earth, grimacing. Through all this, they were still looking out for him. He needed to return the favor. It might take all the had left, but he had to help.

There was a long, exhausting few seconds where nothing evidently happened. Then the cracks in the pavement started. Long, sharp thorns shoved their way into the morning light, all around the street. The largest any got was perhaps half a foot, before Greg gasped for air and went down on his elbows.
jonesiseverywhere: ([24])

[personal profile] jonesiseverywhere 2015-08-22 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Why was just one fireball too much to ask?!

Everyone was still alive, and now they had to close the rift. That part was simple. But Wash was on his back and probably wasn't getting up, Bones was moving through the Nox like he was hurt and Greg was way too wiped to fight.

That left Casey to...do what? Follow Bones? No, no he had to get Wash out of there...no, should he protect Greg? Too many options, all of them important and urgent and immediate, and he needed an answer NOW his brain just couldn't settle on- Were those spikes?

"What th-" Greg was on the ground and now there were thorns jutting out of the pavement. Only barely long enough to impale the Nox but maybe if he-

This was Casey's element, the improvised, the spontaneous, the wild. The focus came. The answer was clear. Adrenaline filled his stomach, filled the tank, and both his hands burst into flames. He took off, skating around the field of thorns, low to the ground, hands out. The fire caught the thorns like a bunch of evil birthday candles and spread downwards.

"Bones!" He shouted as loud as he could, "Throw 'em!"
oldfashionedfutureboy: (I didn't need to see that Jim)

[personal profile] oldfashionedfutureboy 2015-08-23 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
Wash, down. Greg? Down. Casey was still up, still mov'n so two out of four ain't all that bad- they just had the one rift and the few scragglers. Destroy the rift. Kill the Nox. Get everyone home. Like any good surgery he broke it down into simple, manageable steps. Saw what was and what needed to be, imagined the steps in between.

The rift was presenting a problem for all that he was still sprinting forward and shoving Nox into the spikes Greg provided so well. Fewer and fewer on the way down- then Casey provides the answer. He'd never done this much before- but then again he'd never hauled someone up bodily and carried them before. It didn't matter if he COULD.

It mattered that he NEEDED to. COULD he or couldn't he wasn't a question. Failure was not an option, not now. Not when the scraggly limbs of more Nox started to drip down from it. Leonard didn't think. He swung his hands down (still sorting out what physical gestures got the best results, testing was still inconclusive) much like he was grabbing weeds back and the Ranch and yanked. It felt right. It felt appropriate and the spikes cracked free of the pavement. They hovered and burned, moving forward with him as he sprinted the last few steps, twisting and hurling his arm forward as though throwing a javelin.

Or a football. That was more muscle memory, he'd never HELD a javelin before.

They spiraled, they flew, they cracked into the Rift like missiles of doom and shred it to bits, sealing it off and ending the rest of the Nox in the area.

For a moment Leonard stood, winded and aching and staring. They'd just- done what they couldn't the first day.

They'd closed a rift.

With minimal damage.

With only their magic.

"...HELL YEAH!" Clearly a fist pump was appropriate. Then again that was probably just the adrenaline.
panspermia: (Don't abuse the sound equipment)

[personal profile] panspermia 2015-08-23 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
It all probably would have looked really cool, if Greg had been upright to see any of it. However, magic being as it was these days, Greg was too busy groaning softly on the ground. First fire, then getting torn up out of the earth... it didn't feel fantastic. Not fully painful, per se, but a lot of discomfort on top of everything else right now. It took away from properly relishing their victory.

Still, the sound of cheering did make it through to him, something he'd much rather hear than more battle cries or yells of pain or really anything he'd been hearing for the last minute and a half. Things were looking up, right?

Unable to move from his very heavy, very comfortable place on the ground, Greg lifted a fist weakly in celebration. "W-whoo." Groaning again, he tried to lift his head, to minimal success. "Everyone... all right? Wash...?"
jonesiseverywhere: ([12] First they curse)

[personal profile] jonesiseverywhere 2015-08-23 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
It did look really cool. Casey's head was swimming, like he was drained from the top down, kind of like when he had a concussion. And just like when he had a concussion at the end of a winning hockey game, he didn't even care.

"We did it!" He skated back around to where Greg was, whooping and hollering. He figured that Bones could grab Wash while he took care of Greg. It didn't even occur to him that Wash might not be OK, because that sonic boom thing was so freakin' metal and you just can't not be OK after you do something like that.

Speaking of, Greg was going to be OK too, but...later. Eventually. Sure, right now it didn't look like he could move, but after a hand getting home and some downtime he'd be able to appreciate how rad this all was. Casey held out his hand to help Greg up.

"Dude, wicked spikes!" He was going to gush about this the whole way home.